#her even more of that? guy turns good for girl then gets the girl??
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‘spencer’s “first” time showing you his jealous/possessive side’. bau reader and spencer just started dating and are a bit reserved when it comes to showing affection in the office. a new agent starts flirting/trying to get readers attention and for the first time spencer make sure everyone knows who his girl friend is <3 thank you !!!
the first time spencer gets jealous genre: fluff word count: 965 a/n: oh how i love this prompt!! thanks for the request
Spencer Reid wasn’t big on PDA, so it didn’t surprise you when he suggested keeping your relationship under wraps once it became official. You didn’t mind much—sure, it was a little frustrating when he’d pat your hand away at the round table or create distance the morning after a particularly fun night, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you—but in general, you were glad to keep things private. You had no problem avoiding the “no dating between coworkers” policy drama, and it gave you the opportunity to focus on the cases and enjoy Spencer’s company even more when you’d sneak off home together at the end of the day.
So, when you found yourself chatting with the new addition to the team—Agent Owen Rogers—you didn’t expect the effect it would have on your boyfriend.
“Of course he’s taken an interest in her. That woman makes everyone fall head over heels,” Penelope half-sighed, her voice a mix of awe and envy as she watched you talk to Owen from the office window. Her words caught Spencer’s attention, and he turned to the scene, spotting you mid-conversation. He recognized the looks his colleagues were giving Owen—those same dreamy, admiring glances they'd had for Hotch’s brother whenever he visited the office.
Spencer’s posture stiffened as the understanding sank in. If he were being honest, he’d liked the new agent when they first met, but now, seeing the way Owen was smirking at you as he moved closer, that initial fondness had quickly morphed into distaste. He could still hear his colleagues gushing over the agent as he quickly got up and headed down the stairs toward you.
“So, I was thinking Italian? Do you like Italian?” Owen asked, his voice upbeat.
Before you could even open your mouth to turn him down, you felt the familiar warmth of your boyfriend’s arms wrapping around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder.
“We love Italian.”.
You stood there, completely bewildered, as your boyfriend not only inserted himself into the conversation but also made the boldest display of possessiveness, wrapping his arms around you without a second thought. It was so un-Spencer-like—especially in the office—but you weren’t about to complain, your hands instinctively resting over his arms.
“Actually, Owen—I can call you Owen, right?” He doesn’t wait for confirmation before continuing. “You know, it’s fascinating how often people pick Italian food for a first date. Objectively, it’s a terrible choice. Think about it: you’ve got these long, slippery noodles—spaghetti, for instance—that are practically designed to humiliate you. The odds of splattering marinara sauce all over yourself—or worse, your date—are alarmingly high. And then there’s the garlic. People convince themselves that a mint will magically erase it, but we both know that’s just a delusion. Why anyone still thinks it’s a good idea is beyond me. Kind of stupid, don’t you think?”
You bit your lip, struggling to suppress your laughter as Owen’s face crumpled. You truly felt sorry for the poor thing—he really was a nice guy—but seeing Spencer get this sassy, especially when it was all because of you, was strangely entertaining.
“I—uh, yeah.” Owen gives a nervous laugh, his fingers awkwardly brushing the back of his neck. “Pretty stupid.”
“But we’d love to have Italian food with you! Right, baby?” Spencer gives your waist a subtle squeeze, his silent cue for you to play along.
You cough slightly, trying to cover your laugh. “Right! Yes, totally—Italian sounds great.”
“Yeah, that’s cool, guys. But, uh, now that I think about it, I’m swamped. You know, being a new agent and everything.” Roger’s voice wavers just enough to betray his weak excuse.
“So unfortunate. Maybe another time,” Spencer replied smoothly. Owen nodded stiffly, forcing a tight smile before quickly walking off.
You scoffed a laugh as Owen disappeared down the bullpen, the shock still lingering. You turned to Spencer, your eyes wide in disbelief.
“What in the world has gotten into that pretty head of yours?”
Spencer’s cheeks flushed a little, suddenly aware of how much of a spectacle he had just made in the middle of the office.
“He was asking you out,” he said quietly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
You chuckled, reaching up to adjust his collar. “And I was just about to say no.”
His arms found their way back around your waist, leaning into your touch as if he’d forgotten where he was. His eyes flickered from your hands to your face, his expression softening. “I know you were. But he should know not to ask you.”
You smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, amused by how the man who’s so intent on keeping your relationship discreet in public is now letting his clingy nature shine through.
“You know he can’t smell that I’m taken, right?” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.
“Well, maybe we should change that,” Spencer whispered, his voice low as he leaned in, his face brushing against your neck, causing you to giggle.
Unbeknownst to you, the whole team had quietly tiptoed their way down the stairs, and gathered around on the other side of the bullpen. They stood there, wide-eyed, like they were watching an episode of their favorite drama.
“Derek… Am I seeing this right?” Garcia whispered, voice dripping with curiosity as she watched Spencer's face disappear into your neck.
Morgan’s chuckle echoed through the bullpen. “Oh yes, babygirl. You’re seeing it just right.”
Spencer’s grip on you tightened as he sensed the peering eyes, but instead of discomfort, he radiated a quiet pride. He wasn’t hiding anymore—he was proud of what you shared, proud to be yours, and for you to be his, and he wanted the world to know it.
#loverrequests#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid fic#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x oc#dr spencer reid#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds one shot#criminal minds imagine
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uuuhhhhhm can i pretty pretty please with cherries on top request a Dae-ho x reader where the reader was also in the military? but its like that ep. where they revolutionized? if that makes sense? idk i think it be cool if reader eas good eith a gun
anyways HAVE A LOVELY DAY/ NIGHT love reading your stuff (i binge read it :p)
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
pairing: Kang Dae-ho x gn!reader
summary: As a former soldier, you know just what to do when all hell breaks loose.
word count: 3.7k
warnings: guns, death, blood, squid game stuff, panic attacks, ptsd
A/N: i've played so many shooting games i feel like i've been training to write this fic my entire life. i even named it after a shield from my favorite game (brownie points if you know which game). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3 tried to make this gender neutral but if you find any slip ups lmk so i can fix it
**this can be read as romantic or platonic**
You look at the woman standing between bunks with wide eyes. You weren't sure earlier when you saw her on the screen, but seeing her standing ten feet away from you, you're absolutely positive that you know who this is.
"Sergeant?"
Cho Hyun-ju turns and gasps when she sees you, a smile lighting up her face. She quickly embraces you, you happily hugging her back. You were always her favorite soldier (she never admitted it, being the sergeant of the Brigade, but you both knew she liked you best). You were one of the only people who supported her when she came out. You tried to fight against her discharge but, as a low-ranking soldier, you had no say in the matter.
"I knew it had to be you!" you say, pulling back with a smile. "When I saw someone go back into the playing field to help a guy with only ten seconds left, I just knew it was my sergeant!"
"It's good to see you," she says. "Though, I wish it was under better circumstances."
You nod solemnly. You had just watched at least a hundred people die while screaming and begging for their lives. As a former soldier, it was hard that you couldn't do anything to help the civilians. All you could do was stand there and listen to the screams and gunshots, and then the silence.
"How are you here? Are you not part of the Brigade anymore?" Hyun-ju asks.
You shake your head. "No, I actually left not long after you were discharged. It wasn't the same without you, and I just couldn't be civil with the others after how they treated you."
She nods, understanding. "Well, if I'm going to be here with anyone, I'm glad it's you. I trust you with my life, soldier."
You smile. "And I you, Sergeant."
<>
You and Hyun-ju had made it through the next two games together, along with some allies you made along the way. Together with Young-mi, Yong-sik, and Geum-ja, you had been the first team to succeed in the six-legged pentathlon.
You had also made it though Mingle with some new allies, though not all of your old allies made it. Young-mi's death was hard on your whole group, but Hyun-ju had been taking it the worst. While you had grown closer with Yong-sik and Geum-ja, she had formed a special bond with the young girl and had to watch her die right in front of her.
While you would like to take the time to mourn Young-mi, a lot has happened in the few hours since the third game ended. The vote on whether to go home or stay ended in a 50-50 tie, meaning you're going to have to redo the vote tomorrow. Then, a huge fight apparently broke out in the men's bathroom, leaving five players dead.
Both sides group together to count their numbers, and you find that there's now one more X than O. While the players around you celebrate, a feeling of dread shoots through you.
"Attention please. Lights out in 30 minutes. All players, please return to your beds and prepare for bedtime."
Shit.
Player 047 stands in front of the group. "Listen, you cannot change your minds. We have to win the second vote and get out of here tomorrow, alright?"
As the other players around you nod and move to their beds, you stay sitting, watching the O players. They're already looking at your group. Watching. Waiting. You look at Gi-hun, the previous winner, and know that he's thinking the same thing you are.
<>
"Those bastards are acting suspicious," Dae-ho says, returning to the small circle you formed on the ground. "It looks like they're up to something."
Jung-bae breathes out a laugh. "Whatever those idiots do, once we win the vote tomorrow, it'll all be over."
"You think we'll be okay?" Dae-ho asks, concerned. "They say things were really crazy in the bathroom earlier."
"We need to be ready," you say from your place between Dae-ho and Gyeong-seok. "They've been watching us since the moment they found out the prize money goes up if we kill each other."
The group around you tenses before Gi-hun speaks up as well. "Once the lights go out, people on the other side will attack us."
"Really?" Yong-sik asks from beside his mother.
Gi-hun nods. "Because if they kill us, they'll be able to win the vote and increase the prize."
"So what do we do?" Yong-sik asks.
"Let's attack them first," Young-il suggests. "They're probably thinking we'll just wait for the second vote. We can use it to our advantage. We'll attack them first once the lights go out."
"That's right," Player 047 says. "It'd be better to attack them first. We have more women and elderly on our side. If we get attacked we'll be at a disadvantage." You send him a glare that makes him freeze for a moment before continuing. "Attacking them first would give us a better chance of winning."
"I agree," Player 145 adds.
"We can't do that," Gi-hun says.
"But we have to get out of here," Young-il argues. "You said it yourself. Staying calm won't get us anywhere now."
"That doesn't mean we should kill each other," Gi-hun says. "That's exactly what they want us to do."
Jung-bae leans forward. "'They'?"
Gi-hun looks at him. "The ones who created this game." He turns to face the rest of the circle. "The ones who watch us play. If we're going to fight someone, it should be them."
It's silent before Dae-ho speaks up. "Where are they?"
Gi-hun looks to the ceiling. "Up there."
You all follow his gaze before looking around at each other.
"On the upper levels," Gi-hun says, "are the rooms they control the games from. The man in the black mask is their leader. Once we capture him, we'll be able to win."
"How are you going to fight them?" Young-il asks. "They have guns."
"We'll fight them with guns, too," Gi-hun says.
"But we don't have any," Jung-bae says.
Gi-hun turns to him. "We'll take their guns."
You and Hyun-ju look at each other. This is what you were trained for.
"From those masked men?" Gyeong-seok asks nervously.
Gi-hun nods.
"That's too dangerous," Young-il says. "Even if we manage to take a few guns, we'll still be outnumbered."
"What then?" Gi-hun argues. "Are you going to kill each other all night and hope you survive? Is that what you want, Young-il?"
Hyun-ju breaks the silence. "Do we... stand a chance?"
"We do if we catch them off guard," Gi-hun says. "Out of everyone, they're the ones who would least expect us to attack first. This is our last chance to end these games once and for all."
"How are you going to take their guns?" Young-il asks.
"Once the fight begins tonight, we'll have our chance."
<>
"Lights out in ten seconds."
"Ten,
nine,
eight,
seven,
six,
five,
four,
three,
two,
one."
The lights dim, then turn off completely, leaving only the red and blue lights from the floor.
You roll out of bed, getting under the frame. You feel someone else trying to get under your bed, and you move a bit to make room for Dae-ho. Just as you get in position, you see bodies creeping towards your side of the room, illuminated by the bright blue O on the floor.
There's a scream, and all hell breaks loose.
The lights strobe as you hear the sounds of screaming and bottles being smashed coming from all around you. Somewhere to your right, a bunk is toppled over, sending someone to the ground. Another player runs up to them, stabbing their fork into their neck.
You feel the ex-Marine next to you tense up and put a hand over his, trying to bring him some comfort, or at the very least trying to keep him from blowing your cover.
You hear the buzzer of the door and the lights come on. One of the soldiers fires into the air to stop the fighting as about twenty masked guards come into the room, all armed.
You quickly army crawl out from under the bed, Dae-ho following you as you lay down on the ground.
You hear footsteps getting closer to you, and your ear is moved as a device scans behind it.
You open your eyes, grabbing the soldier so they can't move. "Dae-ho! Now!"
The ex-Marine smashes a bottle over the head of the guard, knocking him unconscious. You take the opportunity to grab the submachine gun off of the soldier, shooting another soldier coming toward you and Dae-ho. You're so focused on the fight that you fail to notice the quivering boy holding his hands over his ears against the bunks.
Grabbing another gun, you quickly scale one of the bunks to get a better vantage of the fight.
"Sergeant!" You yell, gaining the attention of Hyun-ju. She looks to you and you toss the SMG to her. She drops her pistol and catches the weapon, turning just in time to shoot one of the pink guards coming for her.
You use your position to fire at the guards hiding behind bunks. You pull the trigger until you hear a click, cursing as the mag runs empty. You jump down from the bunk, using the butt of the gun to knock a guard out cold. You quickly take his ammo and reload your own gun, firing at a guard trying to shoot Gi-hun.
"Retreat. Retreat."
The voice over the intercom announces and the pink soldiers make their way towards the door. You're able to shoot two more, but most of the soldiers who are still alive are able to make it out of the room. The main guard with the square on his mask is too busy firing back to realize that the door has closed behind him, sealing him in the room with you just as he runs out of ammo.
"Stop! Hold fire!" Gi-hun yells.
Jung-bae and another player run over to the square guard, making sure he won't fight.
"You goddamn bastards!" you hear someone yell on the other side of the room and turn to see Player 047 aiming his gun at a bunch of O players.
"No!" Gi-hun yells, stopping the man before he can shoot. "This is not what we took these guns for. If we do this, we'll be no different from those masked men."
Player 047 lowers his gun, hanging his head and he softly cries.
Gi-hun steps to the center of the room. "Everyone! Don't be scared. Gather round, please! We're not trying to hurt you!"
You walk to stand by Hyun-ju and Gyeong-seok.
"Get the guns and ammo from the dead," she tells the both of you.
You nod, doing as your sergeant says while she takes out the cameras in the room.
<>
Placing one of the last guns on the mattress in the center of the room, you move to stand in line between Jung-bae and Dae-ho, handing the extra SMG in your hand to Dae-ho.
Gi-hun steps forward. "Everyone. We will now head up to the masked men's headquarters. We'll capture the ones who captured us, put an end to this game, and make them pay. Anyone who knows how to use a gun and wishes to join us, please step forward."
You look at the crowd in front of you, but everyone stays where they are.
"Hey," you hear a voice next to you say and turn your head to see Jung-bae stepping forward. "I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But this may be our last chance to make it out of this place alive. Fight with us so we can go home together. All together."
One of the players in the back of the crowd steps forward. "I'll fight with you."
Gi-hun waves at him to come and take a gun. Two other players come forward as well.
You watch as Yong-sik makes a move to step forward, but he catches your gaze as you shake your head at him. It's very brave of him to think about volunteering, but he hasn't even served his mandatory military service yet, and it would kill his mother if he didn't come back. You breathe a sigh of relief when Yong-sik stays where he is.
When it's clear that no one else is stepping forward, Gi-hun turns to you all. "Please check your guns and ammo."
"Let's take one radio each," Jung-bae says. "We'll use channel 7, the lucky number."
You put the strap of your gun around you, checking the mag and putting it back in place when you're satisfied with the amount of ammo that is left. You look to your right to see Dae-ho fiddling with his own gun. Just as you're about to help him, Hyun-ju steps forward.
"Attention," she says, holding up her gun. "This is the MP5, a submachine gun." She continues on the demonstrate how to load the weapon and set it to the mode you should be using. When she's done, she looks at you all. "Are we clear?"
"Yes," you answer, falling right back into the rhythm with your sergeant.
Hyun-ju nods to you, silently telling you to stay by her when you get out there.
"How do you two know each other?" Dae-ho questions, his voice a bit shaky.
You smirk, cocking the MP5. "I was in the 13th Special Missions Brigade. Hyun-ju was my sergeant."
Dae-ho stares at you, completely stunned. "You were in the Decapitation Unit?!"
You chuckle at his disbelief, nodding.
The man can't believe it. He's been bragging about being an ex-Marine while there's been two ex-Special Forces soldiers right next to him the whole time.
Gi-hun points a pistol at the square-masked guard. "Take it off."
The guard slowly removes his mask, revealing a boy no older than 25.
"Good God," Jung-bae says. "Do your parents know what you're doing here?"
The guard just stares at him.
Gi-hun cocks the pistol. "Take us to your captain."
<>
"All players, it is bedtime now. Please return to your quarters immediately. Otherwise, you will be eliminated from the game. Let me repeat..."
Gi-hun fires at the speaker, effectively shutting up the voice. Three guards are stood over you. "Get down!"
You duck behind the wall of the stairs. Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you turn to look at Hyun-ju behind you.
"Cover me!"
You nod, shooting at the guards while she sprints to the top of the stairs. From her new vantage point, she is able to take out one of the guards, causing their body to fall over the ledge and down to the floor.
When you duck down to reload, you see Dae-ho next to you. The ex-Marine is sitting in a ball, covering his ears and flinching every time a shot rings out. You look at him with concern, but your attention is stolen by Gi-hun telling everyone to hold their fire. Dae-ho gets a grip on his weapon and you all move, following Gi-hun and the un-masked guard.
As you move down an alleyway, Gi-hun stops the guard. "How much farther? Is this the right way?"
The boy points toward the end of the hall. "The entrance to the management area is around that corner. The control room is right above it."
Gi-hun pushes him. "Move it, then!"
"Wait," the guard says, reaching toward his pocket.
"What are you doing?" Gi-hun stops him.
"I need my mask to pass security," the guard explains. Gi-hun nods and the guard takes the mask out. He looks up, but before he can say anything else, a bullet goes right through his head.
You all take cover as more shots are fired at you. Something slashes onto your face, and you turn to see Player 072's lifeless body falling to the ground.
You drop the floor and crawl over to Hyun-ju, both of you taking positions in a green square area of the stairs. You nod to each other and duck out of cover, firing at the guards. You can hear the men speaking to each other at the other end of the line, but you focus on taking out as many guards as possible.
You and Hyun-ju alternate firing and taking cover, both of you shooting with deadly precision, doing your best to not waste any of the already low supply of ammo you have.
A player next to you screams and is shot. You turn, shooting at the guard approaching from your rear, taking out a few that are behind that one as well.
"Everyone! Check your magazines!" Hyun-ju calls out.
You take the mag out of the gun, seeing that you have about half of a clip left. Everyone announces that they're around the same.
"Young-il, Dae-ho, can you hear me?" The voice of Jung-bae erupts from your radio.
"Go ahead!" Young-il says.
"I think we're right below the control room." Shots can be heard in the background. "But we need backup and more ammo."
"We're running out of ammo, too!"
"There should be spare magazines in the soldiers' pockets in our quarters. Go get them!" Gi-hun yells through the radio.
"Did you hear that?" Young-il turns to the group. "They need backup! Three of us will go, and the rest will stay! Join us once you get the magazines! Who wants to go with me?"
Players 047 and ... volunteer and they run off towards the end of the hall.
"I'll go get the magazines!" Hyun-ju yells. "I'll come back as soon as I can, so just hold on until then!"
"Hyun-ju!" A voice yells. You turn to see Dae-ho raising his hand. "I'll go!" He hurries over to where you and Hyun-ju are taking cover. "I- I'm out of ammo."
"Do you know the way?" Gyeong-seok asks. Dae-ho nods.
"We destroyed the cameras on the way, follow them," Hyun-ju says.
"I'll go with him," you say. "I still have some ammo, so I'll cover him."
Hyun-ju nods. "I'll cover you. Go!"
You and Dae-ho take off down the stairs. He stops a few times, but you pull him along, keeping your eyes up to watch for the broken cameras. As you're running down the stairs, Dae-ho stops, and you turn to see him staring at a dead guard hanging over the ledge of a window.
"Dae-ho!" Jung-bae yells. "Can you hear me? Where are those magazines?"
You lift your own radio to your mouth. "We're getting them now."
"Alright! We're counting on you!"
You put your radio back in your pocket, grabbing Dae-ho's hand and pulling him along behind you.
You burst into the quarters, letting go of Dae-ho's hand as you sprint to a guard, taking the spare mags out of their pockets. You hear someone say your name and look up to see Yong-sik.
"What happened? Why are you back by yourselves?"
"We're low on ammo," you say, not looking up from the guard you're looting. "We need to get the magazines from their pockets. Help us!"
You look up to the boy to see him nod and run over to a nearby guard. Geum-ja and Jun-hee come over to the help, as well.
Once you've looted all the ammo from the guards, you place them into a jacket you found on one of the dead players. You tie it up and give it to Dae-ho, thanking the others as you lead him out of the room.
Gunshots can be heard as soon as you step outside. You keep moving but when you check behind you, you see that Dae-ho has stopped where he is.
"Dae-ho, we need to go," you urge.
He looks at you silently, but the fear in his eyes sends the message. You've seen soldiers like this before you joined the Special Forces.
Dae-ho stands in his spot, paralyzed other than the shake of his body in fear.
You hear your name and Dae-ho's through the radio. "Where are you? Can you hear me?"
You watch as Dae-ho lifts his radio, staring at it as Hyun-ju's voice comes through.
"Did you find the magazines? Are you on your way?"
Dae-ho looks at you. "I'm sorry," he whispers, dropping the radio on the ground and running back into the quarters with the magazines.
"Shit," you say under your breath. You follow Dae-ho into the room, looking around to find where he went. Yong-sik points toward a bunk and you find Dae-ho curled up there, rocking back and forth. Running over to him, you take the jacket with the mags, ready to run out of there. You take a look at Dae-ho, the pure fear coursing through him as he whispers apologies over and over.
You sigh, remembering one of the lessons Hyun-ju taught you as your sergeant.
Never leave a man behind.
Taking out your radio, you bring it to your lips and press the button. "Charlie Foxtrot."
You put your radio down, knowing that Hyun-ju will know what to do. You had picked up the phrase from your U.S. counterparts, saying it to each other when something goes wrong.
Moving to sit on the bed, you take Dae-ho's hands into yours. "Dae-ho, I need you to breathe with me, alright."
He slowly looks at your face before launching himself into your arms, sobbing into your shoulder. You rub his back comfortingly, knowing you can't leave him alone like this.
After a few minutes, Hyun-ju runs into the room shouting you and Dae-ho's names. She comes running over to you, stopping when she sees Dae-ho in your arms.
"What happened?"
Dae-ho jumps a bit at the new voice, burying his face farther into your jacket.
You look up a Hyun-ju, shaking your head at her. She nods, understanding. You point at the magazines and she scoops them into her arms, ready to take them to the others when the buzzer for the door goes off and more pink guards enter the room, firing in the air and making everyone scream.
Hyun-ju reloads her SMG, ready to take on the entire group on guards by herself. You watch as Geum-ja puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.
"You can't die like this."
You sigh in relief as Hyun-ju puts the gun down. From your hidden area, you try to get the guns and mags away from you, making it seem as though the three of you have been here the whole time.
As the guards come further into the room, you use your body to shield Dae-ho from them as he whimpers. You make eye contact with Hyun-ju. Whatever happens next, you'll face it as a team.
~
Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck @ally1uvsu @thebiggestigurosimp @come-as-you-are-111 @hiphip-horray @k1michii @tpwkcaryslizb @louissst28 @sshwaa @jennwonwoo @sunnysurvives @lalalaa2210 @tayshs @sunshinethatlooksalive @plntmxrss @lxnnrobin @mariaxman @alexx-iia @batty-barty-crouchjr @kxsm3t @takuma-talkz @peacemakersbeloved @skywalker0809 @soobinbunnie5
#squid game#squid game 2#player 388#squid game season 2#dae ho#dae-ho#kang dae ho#dae ho x reader#kang daeho#squid game fanfic#squid game x reader#squid game s2#daeho#daeho x reader
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Hear me out.
dom!Gojo X subfem!reader edging then overstimulation with Reader tied up, gagged and blindfolded. Make Gojo as ruthless as you want :D
Here's a little drabble! I didn't gag her bc I don't dig it much, but blinfolded/tied up and edged hehe <3 enjoy! (oh and he's yandere)
Your wrists are bound with Satoru's silky tie, and you're wearing his blindfold, as his own bright blue eyes watch you, avidly, you're wriggling, helpless, sniffling and hiccuping while he curls his fingers in your slick cunt. "Aww, something wrong, baby?" He cooes, you can't speak or function, gasping now as he laps at your clit, tongue slipping in little circles.
"Please..." Is all you manage, after he keeps getting you just close enough, but then he pulls out right when he feels those walls tighten, when he can tell you're about to cum, you try to hide it, but he yanks them out again, laughing at you.
"Do you think you deserve to cum? After flirting with that guy today?"
"I d-didn't, Satoru..." You ache to see him, to look at his eyes, he leans over you, pressing a kiss to your lips, starting those torturous circles on your clit again, you try to close your legs, earning Satoru yanking them apart.
"Do I need to tie these too, huh? Why do you have to be so fucking pretty, everyone looks at what's mine, should keep you tied to this bed." His words along with his fingers send you to the brink, your clit is twitching, pussy lips puffy from all the torture, he laughs then, smacking your cunt.
"Ah... f-fuck...' He's scissoring his long fingers in your slick walls again, hitting your spot and making the pressure coil in your tummy again.
"You like that idea, so slutty f'me, aren't you? Just me?"
"J-just you, Toru... ngh!" He moans as he watches his name spill from your bitten, swollen lips, smacking your pussy again, before turning his attention to your pretty tits, sucking on your nipples, leaving smacks over and over on your overheated cunt. "Just you! Swear, Toru.... ah!"
Satoru bites your nipple then, teeth sinking in, hurting so bad you scream out in pain, his fingers back against your clit again. "You say that, but baby I think I really need you to stay home, you're too pretty for the world to see, yeah? You like that idea?"
You nod, helpless for him, thighs shaking as he kisses down your tummy again, nestling his broad shoulders between your thighs, lapping up all the sweet arousal that's drooling from your hole, you are a mess, tears soaking his black blindfold now. Satoru's strong hands press into the plush of your thigh as he laps up more with the flat of his tongue, pushing you back to the edge, your entire body is wriggling, hips arching for him.
"I'll destroy the whole fucking world for you, y'know that? I'll take out anyone who even thinks of touching you." Satoru could easily do it too, you feel so much of his power then, his grip bruising, while your numb hands ache to enwrap in his silky white locks.
"I'm yours, Toru." You assure him, he needs it, he always does, he loses his sanity when it comes to you. Satoru moans, shoving your legs up then, bending you in half, cock sliding in finally, you are sobbing it feels so good, finally being filled by him, his length shoving in so deep, tip kissing your cervix. "Ah! S'much... you're s-so big..."
"Look at you, such a pretty little mess." He yanks up his blindfold then, grinning as he sees your tear glistened eyes. "You gonna be a good girl f'me?"
You nod eagerly, sniffling, finally getting to see his perfect face, his blue eyes swirling, pupils shrunk to pin points, he cups your face as he sinks inside, pressing your thighs against your breasts and putting his weight to keep you folded. He pulls out almost to the tip, making you whimper. "P-please..."
"Hah, ya thought you could cum?" He smirks now, shoving his cock back in with a snap of his hips, moving just slow enough you can't cum, you're pinned under him, helpless, gasping for breaths. "Not yet, not even close to done with you.
Hope you enjoyed bb! <3
#gojo x reader#jjk smut#gojo smut#jjk x reader#satoru x reader#yandere gojo#yandere jjk#jjk gojo#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#inbox requests#inbox
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Kang No-eul / Guard 011 Headcanons
Pairing: Kang No-eul / Guard 011 x fem!reader
Warnings: Mentions of drinking/alcohol, other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)
જ⁀➴ Working that shitty job as a costume performer at your local amusement park was hard enough, and the money problems that plagued your every thought were making the situation worse. Most of your co-workers would go out for dinner together after your shift, basically only to drink their problems away and forget about this hell for a night. The only one who'd also stay behind like you was No-eul. You didn't know much about her, as she'd be super secretive about her life, but you at least knew she was a nice person.
જ⁀➴ One time after work it was literally pouring outside, and since you didn't own a car or an umbrella apparently, she offered to take you home with her. You guys hurried over her car and got in as soon as possible and only then you noticed that it seemed like she was living in here. Looking at No-eul, you could tell that she was slightly embarrassed, so you didn't bother mention it or asking about it — Instead, you thanked her a thousand times and more for taking you home.
જ⁀➴ From then on, she'd drive you home one or two times a week so you wouldn't have to take public transportation. At one point, you invited No-eul in, offering to cook dinner as a thank you to her. After a few times it became a regular thing and she actually seemed like she was enjoying it, a smile replacing her usual stoic expression. You also never quite understood how she was so good at her job, entertaining the kids and all, when she was the complete opposite when taking the heavy costume off.
જ⁀➴ She'd help you out in the kitchen sometimes, often catching herself staring at some old childhood pictures of you that you hung up on the refrigerator.
"Oh, that one is cute." No-eul mumbled, pointing at a picture taken at one of your school's dance recitals when you were quite young. "Huh? Oh yeah," you turned around to the picture she was pointing at chuckling a bit, "I was like what? Maybe three? Four? It's one of my mom's favorite pictures, though." You didn't get a reponse back. When you turned around again, No-eul was still staring at it almost longingly.
જ⁀➴ Back at work, you were the only person she'd talk with during the breaks. Some of your co-workers would ask you how you gained her trust like that, since No-eul didn't even speak to them directly at all. You'd just shrug, not knowing how to answer them. Perhaps it was a bit strange how much she seemed to like you, but you certainly weren't complaining.
જ⁀➴ After some time, she'd open up to you about some of the things in her past and she explained her reason for living in her car with that she simply didn't have the money for an apartment. Apparently, she urgently needed it for something else, but she wouldn't tell you more about it. Just the fact No-eul was ready to share bits of her private life with you made your heart feel warm. You liked that she felt safe around you, and she did, too.
જ⁀➴ It got really late one night, so you offered her to sleep over at your place, since you probably owed her so much in gas money anyway. With a bit of hesitation, she'd accept, a genuine smile gracing her face. She was kind of forced to sleep in your bed as well, since your couch was just not big enough for one person to sleep on. No matter how much you apologized for that, No-eul would reassure you that this was more than fine and that she was really thankful you did this for her. She'd take your hand to squeeze it a couple of times to emphasize her words, even.
જ⁀➴ It felt like you two were teenage girls again, having a sleepover while you got ready for bed. No-eul showing you real emotions like happiness, excitement and gratefulness was so weird but also very appreciated by you. You never thought you'd come this close to her, shoulder on shoulder while laying together in your bed. Neither you or her minded it at all though and that was evident through the comfortable silence between you two. Not much had to be said in the moment for it to not be awkward.
જ⁀➴ When you woke up the morning after, No-eul was gone. You had figured that she'd probably be prone to do that, but you were still a bit baffled when finding the spot next to you cold and empty. She needed to get something done, that's at least what her text message said. This was typical No-eul, even if this was the first time this had happened.
જ⁀➴ No-eul wasn't able to get you out of her head. You were so irreducibly kind, soft spoken, pretty and just something that sge wasn't. Even back in the car she couldn't contain a smile when thinking about you, the conversations you had, your laugh, your face.. it wasn't like she didn't like it. She just wasn't used to this feeling at all ever since leaving her home years ago. But perhaps, just for you, she'd be ready to get used to it again.
#squid game#squid game fanfic#squid game season 2#squid game x reader#squid games#squid games x reader#kang no eul#kang no eul x reader#guard 011#no eul#no eul x reader#wlw post#wlw#wlw fanfic
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MDNI 18+
rewarding jason in his truck ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )
age gap! jason x innocent! reader
jason todd smut part 1 - part 2 wip
you had gone on a few dates with jason now during the summer, and the two of you had gotten quite close. he had taken you down to the beach nearby and was driving you back home. despite the age difference between you two, conversations flowed quite nicely, never any awkward silence. “so sweetheart, how did you find the date?” jason asked, his gaze quickly drifting away from the road to stare at you.
you smiled shyly, there was just something about having a bigger and older man talking to you and giving you attention. “it was really good, i liked the beach,” you replied, gently tugging your skirt down. it was summer and you had decided to wear the filmiest mini dress ever, the material was so thin it rode up every second. you turned to face jason to see his response, but you swore you saw his gaze was on your legs before quickly returning back to the road. “that’s good, i want to make you happy,” he responded gruffly, his knuckles turning white from how hard he gripped the steering wheel.
the two have you have only kissed, growing up in a sheltered household you rarely knew anything about sex. jason knew and respected your boundaries which you were respectful of. though after talking to some of your friends who asked about your sex life and whether or not the two of you have slept together, you couldn’t help but become curious about what it is. hence why you spent countless nights locked in your room watching the filthiest things, a man fucking a girl on all fours spanking her, a girl getting her mouth fucked and more.
slowly, you couldn’t help but get turned on, the slight damp patch on your panties was what started it. you touched yourself thinking about jason, what it would be like to have his huge arms wrapped around you whilst he fucked you like the guys did in the videos you watched. so for the past week, you found yourself shoving your fingers up your tight cunt pretending it was jason’s. though you couldn’t help but to feel slightly guilty, this was a new thing for you and it almost seemed scandalous.
you turned your gaze back to jason who was focused on the road. he was big. one of his thighs was big enough where you could sit comfortably, his biceps were huge essentially the size of your head. his hands were large enough to encircle your whole waist, so you couldn’t help but wonder how big he was under his pants. though you quickly snapped out of your thoughts when jason spoke up.
“what are you think’ about sweetheart?” he asked softly, making your cheeks flush. “nothing,” you shrugged, “i just really liked the date that’s all,” you smiled. he let out a low chuckle, “i really enjoyed the date too,” he grinned kissing the back of your hand that he always held when driving.
suddenly you have an idea, an idea you clearly shouldn’t be thinking about. you fidgeted in your seat, deciding if you should even act on it. jason had been treating you so well for the past few weeks that it would be nice to give him something back.
slowly, you kissed the back of his hand, not missing out on how he gave a lazy grin at the touch. “feelin’ affectionate today hm?” he asked. you shouldn’t, but god you really wanted to. slowly, your hands reached out to his lap, touching the leather belt softly. “what are you doin’ sweetheart?” jason asked lowly, his voice more gruff.
“saying thank you,” you smiled shyly before you clumsily fidgeted with the belt. after you finally removed the belt, throwing it in the back seat you unzipped his pants. god, he filled out those pants so well. they weren’t tight by any means, slightly on the bigger and bagged size, but god jason was so big you could see how his thighs looked when he sat. “you sure about this sweetheart? you really don’t need to do this.”
you didn’t care, god you were soaked through your panties you were pretty sure you were going to leave a mark on the truck’s seat. you felt the outline of his hard cock, and god was he big. usually you would’ve been shy, and god wouldn’t even think about doing this, but you were so eager to please him. you tugged his boxer briefs a little lower until you freed his cock.
he was big, a good eight and a half inches if not even more, and his fat tip was already leaking with precum whilst two prominent veins went from the base to the tip. he was a greek god. slowly you pumped your hands up and down on it, gaining a hiss from jason. “sweetheart,” he groaned. seeing him at your mercy turned you on, and god the idea of sucking him off whilst driving? you were soaked.
slowly you leaned closer, bending over the center console. this wasn’t a comfortable position but you didn’t care about your own needs right now. you licked up from the base to the tip, tasting the slightly salty liquid. you then slowly took him in your mouth inch by inch, and your eyes started to water from his sheer size.
“fuck sweetheart,” jason groaned at the feeling of your wet mouth on him. it took you a while to fully adjust to his size, your mouth stretched out beyond belief. you were already making a mess, your saliva coated his cock, whilst it dribbled down your chin, and your hands were wet and sticky from it. you hummed in contentment, as he took one hand rubbing the back of your head.
you continued bobbing your head up and down, occasionally gagging. however, you pulled back when you felt the car stop. looking up both disorientated and a mess you saw how he had pulled over on the side of the highway. “come on baby,” jason said breathlessly as he patted his thighs. obediently, you followed, straddling him. “you made a mess,” he grinned, seeing the sight of the passenger seat with a damp spot.
you let out a moan when he slipped his hands under your panties, rubbing your clit. “such a pretty little thing and all wet for me, hm?” a whine let your mouth when he ripped your panties off, and shoved your dress up, exposing your bare cunt. “think you can take my fingers sweetheart?” he asked softly, one of his hands caressing your cheeks.
nerves settled down your stomach, but jason was so soft and understanding that you didn’t feel judged. shyly, you nodded. “knew you could do it,” he grinned, his fingers playing with your pussy here one sank in slowly. immediately your grip tightened on his shoulders, your face scrunching up. “i know sweetheart, i know, just a little bit and i promise it gets better alright?” jason cooed softly, kissing your tears away.
it wasn’t long until you adjusted, bouncing and riding his fingers eagerly. you were pretty damn sure you could come on his hands alone. “j-jay,” you whined, your knees buckling ever so slightly. “i know, i know,” he gently whispered, his hands encircling your waist, rubbing the area softly. “you can do it, just don’t stop or hold it on ok?”
though you struggled with not holding it in, the feeling was weird, something unsettling. “what did i say about holding it in?” jason spoke, narrowing his eyes seeing how you were denying your own orgasm. you shook your head, tears streaming down your face, “c-can’t jay,” you whined pathetically. “you can, and you will,” he said firmly. the moment jason pinched your clit you came hard. god you were pretty damn sure you saw stars.
you sank onto his chest, clinging onto him like your life depended on it. “knocked you out with one orgasm?” jason chuckled, his large hand gently rubbing your back. “you’re gonna need to work on your stamina sweetheart, ‘m gonna give you more than one.”
you looked up, you were a complete mess. your hair was stuck to your forehead, mascara running down your cheeks with your lipstick was all smudged. “more than one?” you asked weakly, you were already limp from his fingers alone, how could you possibly take his dick and another orgasm?
“yeah baby, what kind of man would i be to just give you one orgasm?” jason gave a smirk, you already felt his fat tip nudging your cunt. “come on, you looked so good right now, it’ll be a crime to not take you again.”
#ch: jason#jason todd#dc smut#jason todd smut#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#red hood smut#red hood x reader
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Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 5
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo
Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?
Warnings: MDNI, angst, tension, suggestive, arguing
Matt shrugged casually, “Nothing. We just thought there was a delivery at the door.” his voice steady to make it seem convincing.
I felt relief wash over me, thankful for the cover, it would save me having to explain to everyone that my toxic ex just randomly appeared at their house. The calmness in Matt’s response seemed to diffuse the curiosity hanging in the air.
Chris nodded, his suspicion easing, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. “Oh I’m not expecting a delivery just yet anyway.”
Nick interrupted, gesturing toward Nate. “Hey, by the way, since we didn’t really get a chance last time, this is Nate.”
Nate stepped forward, extending a hand with an easy smile. “Nice to meet you, properly this time.”
I shook his hand in return, flashing a polite smile. “Yeah last time was a little rushed.”
“Oh that’s on me!” Nate admitted with a chuckle. “I was half out the door when we met. Hopefully, this time’s better.”
Nate had an effortless charm about him, different from Chris’s boisterous energy, Nick’s sharp wit and Matt’s cold nature.
The group started settling on the couch living room. Nick clapped his hands together, like he had a lightbulb moment. “You know what? We should do a games night tonight. Something fun before you two head off to Vegas. I’ll call Madi, she’s always up for a games night.”
I’d gotten to know Madi pretty well by now, it was a nice feeling to know I'd have another girl around, even if only for a little while. I told myself it could be a good tension breaker, especially with Nate staying under the same roof for the next few days.
“That sounds fun!” Nate chimed in, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Games are cool and all, but how about we make it interesting? A few drinks maybe?”
Nick grinned. “Now you’re talking!”
Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d suggest drinking.”
“I’ll go grab the party essentials.” I offered before the conversation could go too far off the rails. “Snacks, drinks, whatever we need. Might as well make myself useful.” I offered since I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, maybe a shopping trip would clear my head a bit.
Chris glanced over at me. “You sure? I can go with you if you want.”
I waved him off. “It’s fine don’t worry. You guys can stay here and have a catch up.”
“Alright” Matt muttered, his tone neutral but his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary.
As I grabbed my bag and slipped on my shoes as I ordered an Uber. This could be a fun night, I felt a mix of anticipation and curiosity about how it would all play out.
Once I got to Walmart, I grabbed a shopping cart and started with the priority - spirits.
I picked up a variety of alcohol, vodka, rum, tequila, and even a bottle of apple sourz. I thought it would be a good idea to pick up a crate of beet too, better to have too much than not enough. Next, I searched for the snacks, tossing in bags of pretzels, 2 tubes of Pringles, chocolate, donuts, and a few other random items that caught my eye.
I wandered into the games aisle, scanning the shelves for something fun but not too complicated. I grabbed 5 Second Rule and Twister and added them to the cart. I debated on picking up Monopoly, but I know Nick refuses to play it with Matt.
As I made my way to the checkout, I felt a little lighter. The morning had been intense, maybe tonight was exactly what I needed.
The day passed in a blur of light tasks and lingering thoughts. Madi arrived and her presence immediately shifted the energy in the house. She had this way of making everything feel easy, and it was a relief to have another girl around for a change.
We set up around the kitchen table, where I laid the drinks and snacks out. Nate slid into the chair next to me, his friendly and easy going demeanor making me feel comfortable despite everything that had happened in recent days. He was effortlessly charming, asking questions about working with Chris and making jokes that had me genuinely laughing.
Chris and Matt stood nearby, chatting quietly. Chris was his usual goofy self, but Matt's mood still felt frosty. He wasn’t ignoring me exactly, but his responses were clipped, his energy distant. So more or less, Matt was acting normal toward me. I tried not to let it bother me. They’d be leaving for Vegas tomorrow, and maybe some space would be good, for both of us.
“I’m keeping it light tonight” Chris said, pouring himself a splash of whiskey on the rocks. “Don’t wanna hit Vegas hungover.”
“Speak for yourself” Nate chimed in with a grin as he stood and walked to the counter, taking a shot of tequila. “This is a warm up for Hawaii.”
Matt chuckled as he shook his head watching Nate take the shot. “I’m good with a few. Got enough chaos waiting for us tomorrow.”
I couldn’t help but think of Chris and Matt navigating the madness of Vegas together. It suited Chris, but Matt? He didn’t seem like the Vegas type. Yet something about imagining him there, relaxed and out of this usual, guarded demeanor, was kinda intriguing.
“Guess that means more for us!” I said, raising my glass to Madi and Nick.
"Alright, enough standing around. Let’s play a game. How about 5 Second Rule? Haven’t played that in ages.” Chris stated, his energy already setting the tone for the night.
Madi cheered in agreement, while Nate gave a nod. "Sounds good, but I’m giving you all a warning, I’m competitive."
“Oh, we know” Chris teased, pulling the game box off the counter and setting it on the kitchen table. "'Mon, everyone grab a seat."
I settled into my chair next to Nate while Matt reluctantly took a spot across from me. Madi next to him with Chris and Nick at each end of the table.
“Alright, rules are simple” Nick said, shuffling the cards. “I’ll read a prompt, and you’ve got five seconds to name three things in the category. If you don’t you lose your turn.”
“Got it” we all replied, almost in unison.
Chris smirked. “Perfect. Let’s see who embarrasses themselves first. I’ll start it off.” He glanced at Madi as he picked up a card. “Name three pizza toppings. Go!”
Madi’s face lit up. “Pepperoni, mushrooms, pineapple!”
Nick slapped the timer just as the last word left her mouth. “Alright, she’s safe. Nate, your turn. Name three sports where you use a ball.”
Nate leaned back, his confidence showing. “Football, basketball, baseball. Easy.”
Nick rolled his eyes as the timer dinged. “Alright, you’re not impressing anyone. Your turn, Y/n.”
I straightened up, bracing myself as Nate read the card this time. “Name three things you’d find in a bathroom.”
“Toothpaste, shampoo, towels” I rattled off quickly, relieved as the timer buzzed right after. “But none of them are mine since I have to keep my things in my room.” I say playfully, my eyes boring into Matt, alluding to the whole bathroom fiasco. He turned away from me rolling his eyes in response.
Chris grinned mischievously as he shuffled the cards, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright, how about we make up our own prompts, let’s make this interesting."
Madi raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Interesting how?"
"You’ll see.." Chris said, leaning forward as he glanced at Nate. "Alright, Nate, you’re up. Name three places you’ve made out in that aren’t a bedroom."
Nate chuckled, completely unfazed. "A car, a beach, a supply closet."
Madi gasped dramatically. "A supply closet?!"
"I mean I havent, not.. yet." Nate replied with a shrug as the timer dinged.
Chris cackled and turned to Madi. "Your turn. Name three things you wouldn’t want your parents to find in your room."
Madi’s cheeks flushed, but she grinned. "A vibrator, weed, and.. And uhhhh–" She paused as the timer buzzed, then groaned. "Fuck! That was tough."
"You were doing so well" Chris teased, shaking his head before turning to me.
"Alright, Y/n. Name three reasons someone might get kicked out of a party."
I hesitated for a second before rattling off, "Throwing up, starting a fight, hooking up with the host’s ex!"
Everyone burst into laughter as the timer buzzed.
Matt smirked across the table, his first sign of amusement all night. "Hooking up with the host’s ex? That sounded specific."
I rolled my eyes, ignoring the heat in my cheeks. "It’s just a hypothetical, alright? Your turn, Matt."
Chris scrunched his eyebrows as he thought of a prompt for Matt. "Oh, I’ve got one for you. Name three ways to flirt without talking. "
Matt raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. "Eye contact, smirking, and-" He paused just long enough for the timer to buzz, then shrugged.
"Come on, you couldn’t think of a third one?" Nick said, laughing.
Matt’s eyes flicked toward me briefly, his smirk lingering. "Maybe I didn’t want to give away all my secrets."
The comment hung in the air for a second, and I quickly looked away, taking a sip of my drink.
"Alright, my turn to stir the pot" Madi announced, turning to look at Chris. "Name three things you’ve lied to a girl about."
Chris groaned but didn’t hesitate. "My age, my job, and.. uh, my feelings."
The table erupted in laughter, and Chris shrugged shamelessly. "What can I say? Gotta keep them guessing."
The game continued, each question more daring and ridiculous than the last, until the room was filled with laughter and empty glasses. It was chaotic, messy, and a little too revealing, but somehow, it was the most fun I’d had in ages.
The vodka lemonade in my hand felt heavier as I swirled it around aimlessly, trying to focus on the game instead of the slight tipsy feeling in my head. Nate was leaning back in his chair, clearly more drunk than anyone else, and grinned mischievously. "Alright, let’s make this more interesting. Truth or dare, spin the bottle style. If you refuse a dare you have to take a shot!"
Madi gasped, laughing as she reached for her drink. "Oh no, this is about to get messyyyyy."
"Messy’s the point" Nate laughed.
“Okayyyy this is my cue to go to bed!” Chris announces as he stands to push his chair in, disappearing downstairs to his room.
Nate rubbed his hands together like a cartoon villain before he spun the bottle, it landing on Nick. “I’ll go with dare to kick this game off properly!” Nick laughed.
“Alright I dare you to down your drink and take a shot straight after, since you’re all for kicking this off the right way!” Nate laughs.
Nick groaned but complied, downing the remainder of his drink and wincing as he followed it with a shot of tequila. "You’re the worst, Nate" he said, coughing slightly, but the group fell in to laughter.
The bottle spun again, this time landing on Matt. His jaw tensed slightly, but he leaned back, looking relaxed. "Dare" he said, his voice calm.
Nick jumped at the opportunity. "I dare you to let someone send a risky text off your phone."
Matt’s eyes narrowed, and he hesitated for a second before shrugging. "Fine, whatever. Who’s doing it?"
Nick’s grin widened as he turned to me. "Y/n."
I blinked, caught off guard. "Me? Are you sure?"
"Oh absolutely" Nick said, sliding Matt’s phone across the table toward me. "You’ve got the perfect touch for this."
Matt gave me a pointed look, his lips twitching slightly in what might’ve been amusement or annoyance. "Don’t screw it up."
I picked up his phone, without a need to unlock it since he handed it over with no code needed. As I was scrolling through his contacts, a message popped up on the screen, from someone called Christina. "Can’t wait to see you again 😉"
I froze for a second, the words glaring at me. Without thinking, I read it out loud. "Oh, looks like you’ve got a message."
Matt’s head snapped up. "From who?"
I tilted the phone slightly, showing the message. "Christina?"
Nate leaned forward, a smirk playing on his lips. "Wait, is that the Christina you met in Vegas? The one from July?"
Matt shrugged nonchalantly, but his expression tightened ever so slightly. "Yeah, that’s her."
Nate let out a low whistle. "She’s gonna be there again this time, isn’t she?"
Matt nodded, his tone casual. "Probably."
I don’t know why, but a wave of jealousy hit me, sharp and unexpected. My grip on his phone tightened for a second before I forced myself to focus on the dare. "Should I send something to her?" I asked, my voice light but edged with something I hoped wasn’t obvious.
Matt raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "If you want to, go ahead."
The room felt suddenly smaller, the playful atmosphere shifting. I could feel Madi watching me, and Nate was clearly enjoying the tension. I hesitated for a moment, debating if I should actually send a message to this Christina or if I should pick someone else.
"Tick tock Y/n! You’ve got to make a move!" Nick teased.
I forced a smirk, my fingers hovering over the screen.
I quickly typed out a message to Christina, my fingers working faster than my mind. "Hey me too, you might need to get an STD check this time though.'" I laughed to myself before pressing send.
The moment I handed the phone back to Matt, I tried to mask the sudden fluttering in my stomach. I didn’t meet his eyes, avoiding the tension that hung between us like a thick fog. I didn’t know what I was trying to prove or if I was even making sense, but it felt like something had shifted in the air, something I couldn’t undo now.
As I settled back into my seat, the bottle spun again, and everyone’s eyes fell on me. It stopped, right on me.
Nate grinned devilishly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Alright, Y/n. Truth or dare?"
I groaned, taking a sip of my drink to avoid eye contact. "Dare" I muttered, already regretting it.
Nate leaned back, his grin widening. "Okay, I dare you to spend seven minutes in heaven with me."
I froze.
The room fell silent for a split second, and I could feel all eyes on me, the weight of their gazes too heavy to ignore. Nate’s smirk was a mixture of playfulness and something more serious, something that made my heart race in a way I wasn’t sure I was ready for.
I glanced over at Matt instinctively, only to see his eyes harden, his expression unreadable. A pit formed in my stomach as I quickly turned away, focusing back on Nate.
"Seven minutes?" I repeated, trying to make it sound casual, but my voice betrayed me, thick with uncertainty.
Nate’s eyes were sparkling with excitement. "Yeah, just a harmless bit of fun. No pressure, you can just take the shot."
I swallowed hard. Seven minutes. A small, stupid game. But something told me this wasn’t just about a silly dare. It felt like more, like I was walking on the edge of something I didn’t know if I was ready for.
But, I couldn’t back out now. Not with everyone watching. And definitely not with Matt’s eyes burning a hole in the side of my head.
"Okay" I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Seven minutes, lets go."
Nate and I stood and awkwardly walked toward the tiny supply closet across from Matt’s room, gesturing for me to step inside. The space was cramped, with barely enough room to stand between the washing machine and the wall. I hesitated before following him in, increasingly aware of how quiet the hallway had become. Nick close over the door behind us “Okay I’m setting a timer for you seven minutes now!”
I pulled myself up to sit on the washing machine to try and allow more space. Nate stood in close proximity, leaning against the wall, his broad frame making the already tight space feel even smaller.
He noticed my hesitation immediately and raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, Y/n. I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want to do" he said, his voice soft and reassuring.
I nodded. "It’s not that. It’s just-”
Nate chuckled, his grin easy and comforting. "Yeah, I get it. We’re cramped in here like sardines. Not exactly romantic, huh? We can just mess with everyone’s heads when we get out. Pretend something wild happened.”
I appreciated his reassurance, but my mind wasn’t fully there. It kept circling back to that text from Christina, to the girl Matt had brought home just the other night. Why was I bothered by these things?
We went back and forth trying to mess with everyones heads for a few minutes, the tension easing with each playful exchange. Nate had this way of making me forget the discomfort of the situation, his charm and humor cutting through the awkwardness like a lifeline.
But as the seconds ticked by, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation creeping back in. Why had I felt so conflicted when Nate dared me? Why had I instinctively looked at Matt? Why was I holding back? Why was I constantly tiptoeing around Matt’s feelings when he barely seemed to care about mine? The way he acted so indifferent toward me, except for those rare moments of kindness that only confused me more. Maybe I was overthinking, but it felt like I was always waiting for some unspoken approval from him.
But why should I?
I turned back to Nate. His expression was calm, patient, and his smile had a boyish charm that was impossible to deny. He leaned casually against the wall, his hands tucked into his pockets like he wasn’t in a cramped laundry closet playing some silly game.
Maybe I needed to stop worrying so much about Matt, about what he thought or didn’t think. He wasn’t the one in front of me right now.
I took a breath, holding eye contact with Nate, my heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with nerves. He raised an eyebrow in surprise but didn’t move, letting me take the lead.
As I tilted my head toward him, ready to close the distance, Nick’s voice rang out from the other side of the door, loud and teasing.
“Alright, lovebirds! Time’s up!”
I froze mid motion, my face heating up in embarrassment as Nate chuckled softly.
“We’ll I guess thats us!” He said playfully.
I leaned back, unable to meet his eyes as he opened the door. The sudden flood of light felt blinding, and the sound of laughter from the others only added to my growing embarrassment.
As we stepped out, I glanced toward the table and immediately caught Matt’s gaze. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in the way his jaw tightened that sent a bit of confusion through me.
“Have fun in there?” Matt asked, his tone neutral but laced with something sharp beneath the surface.
I wanted to say something snarky, but the words got caught in my throat. Instead, I turned my attention to my drink, needing something to steady myself.
Nate slid back into his seat, clearly amused. “Best seven minutes of my life” he joked, earning a round of laughter from Nick and Madi.
But Matt didn’t laugh. And for some reason, that bothered me more than it should.
Nick suggested switching things up, his voice full of mischief. "How about we switch it up, what about Never have I ever?"
Madi immediately perked up, slapping her hands together. "Ooh, yes! That’s always fun!"
The group agreed, and Nick quickly grabbed a fresh round of drinks, refilling everyone’s glasses to ensure the game could properly escalate. I could already tell this was going to get messy.
We all sat in a circle, Nate to my right and Matt now to my left, the energy in the room buzzing with anticipation. Nate nudged me playfully. "Hope you’re ready to spill some secrets" he teased.
I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my drink just to brace myself. "I’d watch out too if I were you!" I shot back.
Nick took charge of the first round. He leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the power of starting the game. “Never have I ever.. kissed someone in this room."
I froze, feeling my face heat up. Nate raised an eyebrow, glancing at me with a smirk, we laughed into eachother knowing we wanted to fuck with everyones heads.
"Someone’s gotta shake things up." Nate laughed.
Madi took the next turn. Never have I ever... hooked up with someone I regretted."
A ripple of tension moved through the group. Nick and Madi both took a sip, Nate chuckling awkwardly.
To my surprise, Matt lifted his glass and drank, his gaze flicking toward me for the briefest second before looking away.
It made me feel strange, but I tried not to deep it, instead, taking another sip of my drink for no reason other than to keep myself occupied.
When it was my turn, I hesitated. Everyone was looking at me expectantly, the pressure to come up with something spicy almost overwhelming.
"Alright. Never have I ever.. led someone on."
The group fell into playful gasps and laughter, but my eyes stayed locked on Matt.
He didn’t flinch. Instead, he picked up his glass and took a slow sip, holding my gaze the entire time. I couldn’t tell if it was a challenge or an admission, but it left me feeling more conflicted than ever.
The tension in the room was thick as ever when it got to Matt’s turn. His face full of mischief.
"Never have I ever.." he paused for dramatic effect, letting the silence linger just a beat too long, "..had my ex appear at the house I’m staying in, causing a scene."
The words nearly knocked me out. My stomach sank as I stared at him, my drink frozen halfway to my lips. Why the fuck would he say that?
Nick shifted uncomfortably, muttering something under his breath about the game getting too real, but no one really paid him attention.
I felt every set of eyes in the room turn toward me, and heat crept up my neck, both from anger and embarrassment. I didn’t move, didn’t drink, but my hand tightened around the glass in my grip. I felt like everyone was slowly putting the pieces together from this morning.
"What’s the matter, Y/n?" Matt asked, his voice calm but condescending. "Not drinking?"
I finally lowered the glass to the table, meeting his gaze head on. "I’m sorry, are we airing everyone’s dirty laundry now? Or just mine?"
His lips twitched into a smirk, but there was no humor in it. "Just playing the game."
Nate leaned forward, wanting to clear this question. "Alright, let’s not kill the vibe. It’s just a game, right?" He shot Matt a warning look, but Matt didn’t break eye contact with me.
"Right" I said, forcing a smile as I picked up my glass and took a sip. The alcohol burned going down, but it was nothing compared to the fire in my chest.
Madi cleared her throat, clearly trying to cut through the tension. "Okay, let’s move on!" she said, her voice overly chipper. "Um, my turn! Never have I ever.. gone skinny dipping!"
The room tried to recover, laughter breaking out as Nate and Nick both drank, but I barely registered it. My mind was spinning, replaying Matt’s words over and over. Why would he say that? Was he trying to embarrass me? To prove some kind of point? I swallowed the lump in my throat, determined not to let him get to me. If he wanted a reaction, he wasn’t going to get one.
It came back around to my turn, I knew I had an opportunity. I could feel the tension from Matt’s earlier comment still hanging in the air, and I wasn’t about to let him have the last word.
“Never have I ever.. took a girl home and fucked her multiple times during the night knowing you have a guest in the house who can hear every single bit of it to try and make them feel uncomfortable.”
The room went dead silent.
Every single eye turned to me. Matt’s smirk faltered for the first time all night, his jaw tightening as my words sank in. But I wasn’t backing down. Not after the jab he threw earlier. My gaze stayed locked on Matt, challenging him.
Nick could clearly sense the charged atmosphere but unsure whether to step in. Nate, on the other hand, leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head as his eyes wide with both amusement and disbelief.
Matt finally broke the silence, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and tilting his head slightly. "Well" he said, his voice smug as ever "if the guest didn’t want to hear anything, maybe they should’ve stayed in their own apartment instead of squatting in mine."
I felt my cheeks flush hot with both anger and embarrassment. "Squatting?" I snapped. "Wow, I didn’t realize letting someone crash because they didn’t have anywhere else to go counted as charity work for you."
Matt shrugged, his gaze burning into me. "Call it what you want. Just saying, the walls go both ways. If you don’t like what you hear, maybe you should get your own place."
"Or maybe" I shot back, "you could show a little respect for the fact that someone else is living here too. But clearly, that’s asking too much."
Nate looked like he wanted to crawl under the table. Madi awkwardly sipped her drink.
"Alright, alright" Nick finally cut in, his hands raised as if to physically push the tension down. "Maybe this game was a bad idea. Let’s just.. take a breather, yeah?"
But I wasn’t done. "No, it’s fine" I said as I stood up, my voice sharp. "Game’s over anyway. Matt’s clearly got all the answers."
I didn’t wait for anyone to respond. I turned on my heel and walked out of the room, my heart pounding as I made my way upstairs.
Behind me, I could hear the muffled sounds of Nick giving out to Matt for how he spoke to me, Madi trying to diffuse the situation. But the only thing I could focus on was the sound of Matt’s voice replaying in my head, over and over again. If Matt wanted a war, he’d just gotten one.
A hot tear streamed down my face as I lay back on my bed. I wasn’t sure where things would take me now, where I could go, how I would get there, if this would affect working with Chris.
But one thing I was sure of was,
I hate Matt Sturniolo.
a/n: when they go low we go LOWER
taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit
#snowy speaks#fire & desire#snowys sturniolo series#snowys series#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#enemies to lovers
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GORGEOUS //
❝︎ i’m so furious at you for making me feel this way ❞︎
pairing || drew starkey x actress!reader
summary || drew and actress!reader meet for the first time at a party. with the help of some certain, meddling co-stars.
content || alcohol, pining, obx cast meddling, parties, a little suggestive at the end
yaps-a-lot || ‘gorgeous’ by taylor swift was on repeat so here we are. ending is a little rusty it’s been a while since i’ve written anything so bare with me :)
“just go talk to him.”
“absolutely not,” you protested quickly. madelyn and madison have spent the better part of an hour trying to get you to even look in the direction of their co-star who mingled across the room. none other than drew starkey. “i can’t say anything to his face, are you kidding?”
“why not?” madelyn whispered a little harshly.
“cause look at him!” you motioned a panicked hand in his direction as madelyn scoffed quietly. the roll of her eyes playful but not any less meaningful.
“you guys have been avoiding each other for months,” she reminded. “you can’t keep walking the other way when you run into each other on set.”
“it’s worked for me this long,” the tight lipped smile that followed was enough for madison to finally whine this time.
“c’mon,” mads whined. “you guys would be so good together.”
“says who?”
“everyone!” the two girls practically shouted.
you looked around the party slowly when everyone had looked over at the three of you. ignoring the shocked stares from everyone before you downed the rest of your drink, the liquor burning your throat that had you almost coughing it back up.
“jesus christ, i don’t think the people above us heard that,” you grumbled. “try it louder next time.”
you tried to walk away before madelyn was grabbing your arms and pulling you back. “nooooo, no, no. c’mon. just give him a chance. he’s seriously a good guy, there’s no need for this back and forth between you two.”
“there’s no back and forth between us because there’s nothing between us,” you offered stiffly.
madison had snuck off as madelyn’s pouted lips pouted even more as she held you in place.
“i think we both know that’s not true,” she joked.
you sighed a little heavily, letting yourself look back over at drew across the room. he was barely paying attention to the conversation that was going on between chase and jd, putting in a few words here and there, but he was two busy watching the party around the rim of his cup.
the music drowned into nothing as you watched him. his ocean blue eyes scanning the party like he was looking for something. or someone maybe. you.
it’s like the party froze when he met your eyes. the music muffled by the sound of the blood rushing to your ears, the hitch of your breath suddenly the loudest thing in the room as he sent the smallest of smiles your way. if you were being honest, you actually had no reason to avoid him on set. it was just the nerves really, which was weird for everyone to see cause you rarely got nervous around people. the last time you were nervous around someone was when you had met meryl streep on a red carpet one time. that was the only time anyone had seen you nervous simply because you were too starstruck.
so how in the hell was drew the only other one to get you to act that way?
the only thing that could break your eyes from him, was when they caught sight of madison walking up to him. you watched for a few seconds, watching her explain something before pointing in your direction.
“mm, nope. bye,” the second madison was dragging him over, you were turning around and sneaking away before madelyn could even grab you.
you didn’t stick around to hear what conversation had followed, weaving your way through the bustling party that seemed to get all that more stuffy the second madelyn and mads had started their tirade against you.
maybe it’s because you were freaking out slightly, or it was the alcohol.
the alcohol was the easiest thing to blame. it had worked in any situation before…so why wouldn’t it work in this one? you were definitely too tipsy to be left alone with the one co star everyone in that room was trying to set you up with. two young actors, both single, both incredibly hot, and both avoiding the person right in front of them. typical!
dating had been…hard, so to speak in the past. it was just something you couldn’t seem to enjoy. these days people were only after the idea of sleeping with the actress that everyone loved. they weren’t looking for an actual date that could lead to something. safe to say, the dating life was pretty much nonexistent.
and drew starkey was not going to be the one to break that streak.
another shot later and you were buzzing. maybe a little numb. definitely tipsy. it was hard to tell at that point.
“so, this is what my co-stars do at parties?” a voice sounded from behind you causing you to freeze. “ignore everyone and throw back shots.”
he was teasing, you could tell. you could even hear the slight smirk on his face before you looked over your shoulder slowly.
and sure as shit…drew starkey was behind you.
“it’s, uh —“ you cleared your throat. “helps with the nerves,” a short nod followed from you as the smile on his face grew. “lotta people.”
“people make you nervous?”
no. not at all. he made you nervous.
“sometimes,” you managed the confession through a whisper.
your eyes darted back to the drinks table in front of you, trying to find your next victim before settling on an easy mixed drink.
a quiet chuckle fell from his lips as he leaned against the table beside you, his own cup still resting comfortably in his hands and a hand in his pocket before he watched the party.
“you girls sure know how to throw a party,” he complimented. you, madelyn, and madison had been planning this party for months. one to celebrate the beginning of filming that started a little over two weeks ago.
“that’s all maddie and madison,” you brushed off. “i just supplied the alcohol,” you joked, holding up the liquor bottle to show it off as he looked over before pouring it into your cup.
he laughed again, a genuine one with a duck of his head. your nerves eased a little at the sound, the alcohol running through your system relaxing you even more.
you turned around, leaning back against the table with him as you carefully sipped away at your drink quietly. trying to avoid looking at him at any cost in all honesty.
you should’ve been mad at him. furious even for the way he was making you feel. this…nervous. that wasn’t normal.
god, he was so gorgeous.
the deep breath that escaped you had him curious, looking over at you as you caught it through the corner of your eye. the way his eyes tried to catch yours — it was making this worse. everything was so much easier when you could just ignore him. but the way you hugged your cup carefully to your chest, he couldn’t help but stare at you.
for a man who hadn’t said more than a few words to you, the magnetic field around him was a little too strong, you couldn’t help but be drawn to him. a silent glance towards him, a breath hitching at the back of your throat, every nervous swallow had you on your toes.
anyone else you had talked to with ease. like everyone was an old time friend with whom you were catching up with for the first time in years. he should be taking it as a compliment really that you were talking to everyone there but him.
something snapped you back into reality when he placed a careful hand on your ribs suddenly. reaching over for an unopened bottle of beer behind you. caging you between himself and the table, you were suddenly very aware of…everything.
the smell of his cologne, the t-shirt you wore that was well loved — stretched but not noticeable if you hadn’t been three inches from it — even the faint alcohol smell coming from him. it all grew tenfold when he had reached over you.
“sorry,” he apologized in a whisper you could barely hear.
“‘t’s okay,” you gave a small smile.
you followed as he leaned back once again, popping the bottle open with ease.
it would’ve done better to maybe be more mindful of where your eyes traveled. to respect him a little more like he deserved…but you just couldn’t help it. the way his shirt rode up a little and revealed the waist of his underwear when he ran a hand through his hair…it had you nervous all over again.
you cleared your throat again, taking a sip of your drink. he’d caught your eye for only a second, another smile growing on his face before he hid it behind the neck of his beer bottle when he drank some.
“so, what’s after this?” his question was a curious one, a hand motioning to the party before it scratched at the back of his neck.
you took a deep breath, taking a moment to think about it. the alcohol had hit your system now, the nerves dying down to nothing more than a light tingle. it’s what kept you alive.
“oh, you know…probably just gonna stumble on home to my cats,” the tease fell from your smiling lips with a shrug of your shoulder. your feet carrying you away back into the party and leaving drew alone just like you two had started the night. “unless you wanna come along?”
#⋆·˚ ༘ 𝝑𝝔 actress!reader#⋆·˚ ༘ 𝝑𝝔 drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey#actress!reader#fem!reader#f!reader
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AYAYUI IDOL AU: Chapter 2
// It’s time for the second chapter! This one focuses more on the conversations with other characters than on Ayayui interactions, but I’m really curious to see if anyone can guess who the second Diaboy to meet Yui will be. 👀
This story isn’t meant to be a harem or anything like that though, but all the Diaboys will meet Yui at some point. I hope you enjoy this chapter until the next one! 💖
Chapter 1
Place: Dorms
Ayato: Good night.
Laito: Nighty night~!
— Ayato enters his room —
Laito: ( Hmm… he seems unusually quiet. He hasn’t said a single word the entire way, which is so unlike him. )
( It’s as if something’s weighing on his mind, that he’s deliberately keeping to himself. )
( Something must have surely happened to him when he went outside, but why won’t he say anything? That’s weird… )
— stretches and yawns —
Anyway, there’s no point in overthinking it. As long as it doesn’t damage his and our reputation, it’s not worth worrying about.
Place: Ayato’s room
Ayato: ( Phew, I managed to slip into my bed without waking Shu up. )
( The last thing I needed was a lecture about sneaking off to the club as an idol and nearly getting caught. )
( Haa… what a mess. I really made a fool of myself today, didn’t I? )
( If it weren’t for that girl, I’d probably be in the hospital right now, all over the news for alcohol poisoning. )
( Man, that would’ve totally wrecked my career… )
???: Heh, where have you been?
Ayato: …!
( Was that—)
O-Oi, you’re not sleeping!?
Shu: I was until a certain someone tripped over the WI-FI cable and woke me up.
Ayato: ( Fuck! )
Shu: But whatever, I answered your question, so now it’s your turn to answer mine.
— opens one eye and looks at him —
Ayato: ( Wait… I could just make something up and play it off as the truth! )
( Heh, exactly! There’s no way he’d be able to tell it’s a lie! )
Just practicing. I want to be the best version of myself for the next concert, y’know?
Shu: Hmm… I see.
And now, what’s the real answer?
Ayato: …!?
( How did he— )
Hah? W-What do you mean? I’m telling the truth!
— Shu opens both eyes and looks at him —
Shu: You went there, didn’t you?
Ayato: …!
( This guy… he can see through me! )
How the hell did you know that I went to the night club!?
Shu: Heh~? So I was right after all. You really did go there, huh?
Ayato: ( You… You fucking tricked me! )
Look, I know I’m not the best at keeping things together, but don’t tell Reiji! I beg you!
If the leader finds out, the staff will know, and once the CEO hears, I’m done! He’ll fire me in a heartbeat, no questions asked!
Shu: You’re overreacting. No idol is gonna get fired for just going to a night club.
Ayato: Man, you just don’t get it! It’s not just about going there— it’s what went down while I was there!
Shu: Oh? Now you’ve got me curious. What exactly happened?
— starts piping —
Ayato: ( Why do I keep getting myself in this!? )
( Haa… but I guess there’s no point in running away from my issues anymore. )
Basically, I was very tired and thought of over drinking to get my mind think of something else, but the alcohol and exhaustion made a really bad combination, so my chest started aching.
I went outside to get some air, but the pain just kept getting worse until this random chick found me and gave me her water bottle.
Shu: Wait… so you got caught?
Ayato: Luckily, no! As crazy as this sounds, she didn’t recognize me.
Heck, she even asked for my name after I called her a cab! But of course, I’m not that dumb. I knew it would have been way too risky to tell her my name.
( Honestly, I don’t even know why I was so anxious about it. In the end, everything worked out just fine, and I bet that girl will forget all about it in a few hours anyway. )
Shu: Hmm… you do realize that might have merely been an act, don’t you?
Ayato: Huh? What do you mean…?
Shu: Women are sly as foxes.
They’ll play all innocent and clueless, behaving like they have no idea what’s going on, but in reality, they’re just getting exactly what they want without anyone even realizing it.
Heh, it’s almost impressive how they pull it off.
Ayato: Wait… so you mean that girl knew who I was and only pretended not to so as to stalk me? But if that’s the case, then——
Shu: Haa… no need to scream, it’s almost 3 in the morning.
I’m not saying she’s a stalker, but you should probably be more cautious.
You know how fangirls are. If they see you talking to any girl that’s not them, they’ll lose it. Better to just watch out and avoid any unnecessary trouble.
— closes eyes again —
Not just for you, but for everyone else around too.
Ayato’s monologue
Shu’s right. I need to step up my game and start taking this job more seriously.
Being an idol isn’t just a paycheck; it’s a responsibility that goes far beyond me.
Every choice I make carries weight, and not just for my future, but for the company’s and everyone I work with.
Yeah… Exactly. If I let my career fall apart, it’s not only me who’ll feel it— the whole team, every project, and all the hard work we’ve put into this place will take a hit as well.
That’s why, from now on, I’m done making stupid decisions that could mess everything up. My focus is on my idol activities and nothing else.
I should have realized from the moment I signed the contract that living like a normal teenager just isn’t part of the deal anymore.
*Timeskip*
Place: Hotel kitchen
Yui: ( Working here is surprisingly relaxing. Not only that, but the co-workers I met seem very nice too! )
( I’m really excited to put my cooking skills to good use. From what I remember, this hotel has a great reputation, therefore it’s truly amazing to learn from such experienced professionals. )
???: Noooo!!!
Yui: …!?
( It’s coming from the storeroom! )
— quickly opens it —
???: ….!
Yui: Hana-san!
I-I heard you scream, are you alright?
Hana: Wa—… Was I really that loud? This is so embarrassing… I’m so sorry!
— covers face with hands —
Yui: Ah, there’s no need to worry about that, it’s fine.
More importantly, what happened? Did something scare you?
Hana: No, I’m not scared, more like… disappointed.
In case you haven’t heard already, the SAKAMAKIS are filming a special episode for their YouTube channel at three different locations, and guess what? My two favorite members are coming to this hotel in 4 days, but the issue is... it’s happening right when I’m not on shift…!
— starts crying —
On top of that, I promised my sister I’d visit her in Fukuoka, since we'll both be off work at the same time, which means that there’s absolutely no way I can meet them now!
This is such terrible timing…!
Yui: ( SAKAMAKIS… Based on Hana-san’s intense reaction, they must be some sort of important public figures, no? )
Oww… it does sound unfortunate, but you shouldn’t give up hope completely. After all, you live in Japan, so I’m sure there’s always a chance you’ll get to meet them!
Hana: It’s not as easy as you say…
They will return to Korea soon, and who knows when they’ll promote in Japan again? This was my only opportunity to see them outside of the concerts… and I couldn’t even manage to get any decent seats there.
— pouts —
Yui: ( Wait, did she say ‘concerts’? )
Ohh, I see. So they’re idols!
Hana: Eh? You… You actually don’t know the SAKAMAKIS—!?
Yui: W-Well… I’m sorry, the name doesn't really ring a bell, and to be honest, I can’t say I’m familiar with the idol world in general.
Hana: But come on, you must have at least seen their faces before, right?
— shows her a picture of them —
Yui: ( Will she be let down again if I say ‘no’? )
( Hmm… But truth be told, these boys are undeniably good-looking, and it’s clear that they must be hardworking as well, considering how they manage to juggle such hectic schedules. )
( I can easily see why they’ve captured the hearts of such passionate fans. )
— eyes suddenly widen —
( The red-haired one——! )
— blushes —
Hana: So, who did steal Yui-san’s heart~?
Yui: Ah, n-nobody…!
— gets embarrassed —
It’s just that the boy in middle… he got an incredibly well-featured face. I don’t know how to put it into words, but he simply appears unreal.
( To think that a human could look like this… it makes me a bit envious. His eyes and face shape are especially pretty. )
— Hana starts laughing —
Yui: ( Eh? Did I say something wrong? )
Hana: Get in line, that’s Ayato-san!
Hmph… just the thought of not being able to see his tiny, perfect face up close makes my heart ache.
Yui: ( Hana-san… she really seems to love this group a lot. )
( I can't help but think that if I were in her shoes, I'd feel hurt too not being able to see someone I admire so much… )
Hey, Hana-san… I know it’s not exactly the same as having it personally from him, but if it’s possible, I’d be more than willing to ask Ayato-san for an autograph on your behalf!
Hana: Eh—? Would you really do that for me!?
Yui-san, you are the best!
— hugs her —
Yui: I-It’s nothing, really.
Hana: Wait a little—! Now that I think about it, you could also totally grab a photo with them! Isn’t that wonderful?
( I can’t believe it! This way I’ll be just one person away from Ayato-san! )
Yui: Uuh… I’m sure it’d be a nice memory to look back on, but wouldn’t it bother you if I did? After all, you’ve been their loyal fan all this time, not me.
Besides, there’s no guarantee that they would agree to take a picture with an ordinary person such as myself.
Hana: That doesn’t matter, silly! They’re super chill with their fans, and everyone says they never turn down a picture request— unless they’re busy, of course. There’s no way they’d refuse you, especially not in a setting like this.
You also mentioned being captivated by Ayato-san’s visuals, so fan or not, I think anyone would jump at the chance to take a picture with such a fine man~!
Yui’s monologue
Hana-san and I continued to talk about it for a while, and during our conversation, she suggested a few of their songs for me to listen to on my way back to the Airbnb.
At first, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but as I played each one, I was pleasantly surprised.
While I’m still not very knowledgeable about this group, the melodies, the lyrics, and even the energy in their performances were captivating in a way I hadn’t expected.
That Ayato boy… he seems like someone who was born to be on stage. Such charisma and beauty… It really makes me wonder how he acts off-cameras.
Hana-san has clearly supported the SAKAMAKIS for such a long time, and to finally get the chance to meet them, only to have it slip through her fingers, must be heartbreaking.
A part of me can’t shake the feeling of guilt, even though I know very well that it wasn’t my or anyone’s fault.
It might not be a fair comparison, I know, but it reminded me of the boy I met yesterday.
He has probably forgotten about me already, but just like Hana-san dreams of meeting her idols, I find myself wishing to meet him again.
Author’s note:
* In case you're wondering why Ayato is sharing a room with Shu and not Laito, many companies assign roommates to idols randomly. The idea is that idols are supposed to get along with everyone, so the arrangement is made to promote harmony and teamwork, regardless of personal preferences.
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The award for god damn my mouth drop like a cartoon cat goes to SY but u know . I know he doesn’t beat around the bush. However, was I thinking he be like this . And shit I can say from experience and studies that a lot he doing goes right with it. I mean sad thing and it’s really not just one person to pin point who could of fix this besides Thor town folks and trailer trash mom ( now idk where she grew up but hey it’s not me but cliches) that could of help. It’s sad because for her case she probably isn’t a slut while Sy is crazy he just type that knows it but tries to be all wooo man I mean I’m not crazy I’m caring but if u ever mess with me then haha u be getting a dead cat in your mail box or a stalker for life but wooooooo I’m just caring and being a human . Shit pat on the back and you good is looking out a simple box of stuff is looking out non stop poof Sy there is not helping out it’s stalking but bc this town is so small folks won’t see it. Oh he lucky that town size of a city block.
“On pay day, you go down to cash your check then give most of it right back, parsing it out for your various expenses. At the end of it, you have even less than the month before. You don't get it. Thing's only seem to get worse; not just money, but your body” honey this statement so spot on huh one a check back in the day like your time period AU money u get paid can last a month or last time now it’s like a blink poof gone and your body lord I’m only in my 20s and the issues I’m having at my age blown minds.
Sy just always there and idk why but it’s big ( lord I’m drooling and have not finish this thought) well as a whole get always with the sneak attack shit I’m barley 5 foot and I still have issues . Bc I’m too short they turn around and still don’t see me I gotta jump be like Boo. Anyway still damn “. For a big man, he sure can sneak up on you. “ also going back to my girl you got yourself a lifetime 20/20 level stalker. Hahaha way you keep doing Thor I can’t “ It isn't his fault he reminds you of that spoiled deadbeat. “ I wonder still wonder because he hasn’t been front with her which I feel it coming feel it coming . ( still gonna be shock) but on the why he gave her a reason which I’m gonna point out in a second but can “ I don't like to carry 'round debts. Let me buy you one." be one I mean it be least crazy one . And if not does he pray on pregnant women because of well a lot tumblr taught me a lot about kinks but because how easy the target she or how her emotions not there or pregnancy brain. “ You really don't get this man. You're no longer so sure that Thor sent him to check up on you, not since your last interaction. In fact, the wingman seemed more spiteful of him than you” also that he was so close to Thor which questioned his character like so he mad bc what Thor did or he use Thor for some reason. Because in small time I can’t see some friends falling out so easy bc hello who else u got .
This again makes me feel bad for her because while Sy seems nice and it your name was the fluff you don’t ask for I be all aww so cute and romantic but no nothing ever good and sweet it’s an huh my leg said in a sponge bob character voice. Like never so simple and sweet but damn how bad I felt reading this “ You glance over and find Sy watching you as he stands in the queue. His gaze makes you want to wilt.. Not even Thor looked at you like that. Don't be silly. Sy is just being a dutiful guy, helping out the town slut in her time of need. You won't be duped. Not when you can hear your name being twisted on tongues at that very moment” and fact he open ( after 1st day seeing her) mention he read books about pregnancy. It makes her wall slowly start to crack. “ He suggested before he's been reading things about pregnancy. You just can't picture him with a copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting.”
HAAH I’m sure many mention this but lord can you imagine “ He returns with a black coffee and a rather colourful donut. They don't match. Bitter and sweet all at once. “ But no the way that he watches her even down to her fingers. Or what way her EYES 👀 may go. He’s watching her as if I only watching tho his pray but as if he I don’t know still in war zone, looking through his sniper or goggles, watching his enemy. But still huh I hate it the perfect crazy stalker but idk even talking to her not at her or down to her .
AND HE SO HONESTLY BLUNT like okay he playing a game of 1s and 00s and we doing tic tac toe. Still like , “ "Yes, I'd like to take care of you. And the little one, if you'll let me….. His eyes flick up to the ceiling and his cheek ticks as he gives the question genuine thought. When he looks at you again, his face is set, "because I want to." that to me feels ( because not 1st time) he thinking on how to say it like before with the honest but down play it. In away which is why I feel there more.
Called to Duty 4
Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
The bank is as ever anxiety inducing. On pay day, you go down to cash your check then give most of it right back, parsing it out for your various expenses. At the end of it, you have even less than the month before. You don't get it. Thing's only seem to get worse; not just money, but your body. Every day you wake up, you feel even more crummy than the last.
Your hopes of a treat at the cafe are dashed. You give a longing look as you walk by and peer through the window. You can smell cinnamon and coffee. You're strict non-caffeinated, doctor's orders, but a decaf would be amazing with one of those cinnamon buns. Ugh, damn, why are you torturing yourself?
You turn to continue down the street but barely dodge out of the way of another pedestrian. He makes sure you can't pass as he mirrors you, sidestepping to block your way. You sigh as you step back and look Sy in the face. For a big man, he sure can sneak up on you.
"Hey," he flips up his dark sunglasses, "how're you feeling?"
You stare up at him defiantly, not quite bold enough to glare. He hasn't done anything wrong, he's just persistent. It isn't his fault he reminds you of that spoiled deadbeat. Or that your emotions are volatile, one moment teary eyed, the next blazing hot with rage.
"Fine, thanks for asking," you shrug, "Sy, I gotta--"
"I owe you a cookie," he points to the cafe window at his shoulder.
You blink. You remember the cracked shortbread. You forgot about that. The mention of the sugary treat makes your stomach growl and your mouth water.
"No, you don't--"
"I do," he insists, "I don't like to carry 'round debts. Let me buy you one."
"I got it free," you say, "it's not a big deal."
"It is to me," he counters, "I was heading in anyway."
You stare at him. You really don't get this man. You're no longer so sure that Thor sent him to check up on you, not since your last interaction. In fact, the wingman seemed more spiteful of him than you. You look across the steeet to the pharmacy then back at him. The aromas wafting out with each swing of the door have you ravenous.
"I can't stay long, I gotta work," you say.
His cheeks twitch, as if he tamps back a smile before it can bloom, "after you."
He gesture behind you to the door. You turn and lead the way. He reaches past you to open the door before you can and you enter ahead of him. The din within is lively and the air is warm from the crowd and the employees steaming out orders behind the counter.
"Wanna find a seat?" He suggests, "you should rest."
You open your mouth to argue but think better of it. You'd rather not stand in the clustered line. You nod and head off to claim the table by the window. There isn't much left.
You pull out the chair and brace your back as you sit with a sigh. You glance over and find Sy watching you as he stands in the queue. His gaze makes you want to wilt, instead you turn your attention out the window.
Not even Thor looked at you like that. Don't be silly. Sy is just being a dutiful guy, helping out the town slut in her time of need. You won't be duped. Not when you can hear your name being twisted on tongues at that very moment.
You sit and wait, wring the strap of your small purse. You watch the street. If it wasn't for the people, Hammer Ford would be serene.
A plate clinks in front of you and a porcelain mug as well. It isn't a cookie and you can smell the herbal tea's rosy flavour. You peer up at Sy as he gives an apologetic look.
"Cookies are still baking so I got you a cinnamon bun," he says.
"And tea?" You add.
"Can't have one without the other," he says, "no coffee for you."
"Yeah, I... I know."
You could laugh. He suggested before he's been reading things about pregnancy. You just can't picture him with a copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting.
"Thank you," you smile as best you can.
"Gotta get mine, be back," he excuses himself and marches back to the counter.
You look down at the gooey iced draped spiral. You really shouldn't. Not only accept his misspent generosity but indulge in the excess sugar. Yet your hormones won't let you resist. You can at least wait until he's sitting down.
He returns with a black coffee and a rather colourful donut. They don't match. Bitter and sweet all at once. He sits and takes off his hat and sunglasses.
You put your purse to the edge of the table and rest your hand on your stomach, doing your best to resist the animalistic need to tear apart the dessert. His eyes follow the movement and you quickly drop your arm. You don't even think when you do it, it's just a habit.
"You-" he begins.
"Wh--" you find your voice at the same time.
You both stop, hesitant. He nods and gestures to you, lifting his cup as he watches you intently. That's new too. Thor never listened much, only talked a lot. Besides, you weren't exactly together for the conversation.
"Sy," you clear your throat and sit forward as much as you can, "why are you following me around?"
His brows form a vee, "I'm... it's not... I'm tryna help."
"Okay, but why?"
His eyes flick up to the ceiling and his cheek ticks as he gives the question genuine thought. When he looks at you again, his face is set, "because I want to."
"You want to?"
"Yes, I'd like to take care of you. And the little one, if you'll let me."
You can't help your snort, "we hardly know each other."
"Isn't for lack of trying," he taps his fingers on his mug. "Aren't ya gonna try the bun?"
"I will," you assure him. He's trying to distract you and it's close to working. The cinnamon is driving you mad. "A baby is a lot of work and... I'm not your responsibility. I know Thor is your friend."
"Was," he interjects.
"Sure," you accept his decisive declaration, "but that doesn't mean you have to worry about his mistakes."
"Mistakes? I don't think so," he says.
"Well, it's not exactly planned," you scoff, "Sy, really I don't feel right about you doing so much."
"Wouldn't feel right not doing it," he shrugs his burly shoulders.
“But why?” You nearly exclaim. You just want to know why he cares so much, about you?
He leans forward, elbows on the table, “they talk about me too, ya know? Since I got back from... serving. They say I’m f—crazy, or whatever. It wasn’t easy or nothin’ over there but I’m not nuts. Not like they say. Just like you’re not some slut, forgive me for saying it out loud.”
You look down at the table and exhale. So he hears as much as anyone else about you. At least he’s honest. At least he isn’t joining them. You purse your lips and reach for the cinnamon bun, unable to restrain yourself any longer.
“For what it’s worth,” you raise your eyes to meet his, “I never thought you were... unwell, or whatever they say.”
His cheeks pinch, another suppressed smile, and he tilts his head, “I’m only happy to hear you think of me.”
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My Toxic Ex
Yandere Seola X Male Reader
Tags : Cheating Seola, Toxic Seola, Regrets, Yandere, Obsessive, Forceful Sex, Hatred, Manipulation, Pregnancy?
Words : 3,4509 Words
This Is a Commission Work for My friend @Pizza_anon on Ko-fi. I hope you like it Buddy.
"Seola..what the fuck". Y/n yelled, as He saw a terrible sight. His girlfriend of 2 years, have been sleeping with guys all around campus, as she giggles and moaned. Y/n was heartbroken, Seeing how seola clearly enjoyed it.
Seola his once pure and caring Girlfriend, was changed. She was no longer the cheerful, happy, and loving girlfriend once more. She became toxic, cruel, manipulative. Sometimes Y/n wondered what went wrong, What did he do wrong. As her habits grew more and more destructive, Y/n finally has enough.
After a ton of Cheating that she has done, Y/n was finally tired. He's tired hearing all of this news from his friends that Seola is with another guy, Seola slept with some guy, etc. He's done. And so, He simply left. He moved into a new College, far from Seola. He slowly composed himself, Getting his mentality into a better state. As he finally made new friends, and left the ties from his previous life.
Y/n met a beautiful girl. Eunji, was her name. She was cute, smart, and most importantly, Caring. It has been years, since Y/n felt loved, wanted. And it clearly shows, as after a few months of dating her, Y/n was committed to become his boyfriend. Eunji smiled, as she hugged him under the Apple tree. However, as Y/n may thinks this story would end on a happy ending. It was from happy, nor sad. It would be devastating.
Seola, Who all this time was busy having fun with guys all over the campus found herself stuck in a limbo. A sudden news, Her porn videos and naked pics were leaked all over the internet, and most importantly on her university. This made her popularity crumble into dust. As people began mocking her, slut shaming her, and what's even worse, the friends that she thought was there for her, turned out to be the monster that leaked all of her vids and pics.
They all laugh, as they sneered at her, mocking her. Seola was broken. The guys who she slept with, didn't bother to care for her. Instead they feel more proud than ever, as they still kept those videos and pictures all inside their phones. Seola trembles, as day by day, Her friends would leave her, and in the end, the were none left.
Seola suddenly remembered about Y/n. The man who truly cared for her. The man who actually cared for her. She suddenly cried, as She started to remember all of those good times she had with him. She remembered the time where the two got into a small fight, and even though it was unnecessary his fault, Y/n still decided to be the one who apologize first, which made Seola really happy and proud.
She imagined, if she still go back to him. Will he accept her apology. Will he still get back with her, after all of this time, and after all of this suffering that she gave him. Seola was stucked, didn't know what to do, what to act. But she thinks again and again, and not wanting to regrets her decision, she finally started to do some research on Y/n.
And to her surprise and shock, Y/n looked different. He seems happy. His smile, that once was shown to her, now shines brightly on the digital screen, He shares the world about his new girlfriend, Eunji. The two seems perfect, they lack any negativity, far beyond what Y/n and Seola used to have. At that moment, Seola cried. She had lost. She had truly made the biggest mistake in her life.
As she caresses the phone screen once more, a devious plan suddenly showed up. She could still win him over. She could still be with him. And even though this plan would hurt her and him, She didn't care. She only wanted Y/n to be with her again. And so, Any plans good or bad, suddenly become the pinnacle of the system. Seola laughed, as She opened a small wrinkled picture from her jacket. A photo of Y/n and Her. She knew, This wasn't going to be easy. But she knows, that whatever the outcome is, She'll have him back.
As Y/n and Eunji get up from their tiring slumber, He could see that today was a good day. The Sun was shining brightly, the clouds doesn't look cloudy. The evening air was crisp, the kind that made you want to pull your jacket tighter around yourself. Y/n walked home from Eunji’s apartment, his mind still buzzing with the warmth of her laugh and the softness of her touch. He couldn’t believe how different life felt now—how free he was. No more walking on eggshells, no more wondering if Seola would blow up over something trivial. For the first time in years, he felt like he could breathe.
But as he turned the corner onto his quiet street, a familiar silhouette caught his eye. His heart skipped a beat. No. It can’t be.
Seola stood under the flickering streetlamp, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looked... smaller somehow, less vibrant than the girl he remembered. Her once perfectly styled hair was slightly disheveled, and her makeup, though still striking, couldn’t hide the shadows under her eyes.
“Y/n,” she said softly, her voice trembling just enough to make him pause. “We need to talk.”
He clenched his jaw, stopping a few feet away from her. “Seola, I don’t think there’s anything left to say. We’re done.”
Her lips quivered, and for a moment, she looked like she might cry. But then, her expression hardened, and she took a step closer. “You think it’s that easy? You think you can just walk away from me and start over like nothing happened?”
“I didn’t walk away, Seola. You did. Every single time you chose someone else over me, you pushed me further away. And now... I’m done.”
She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You really believe that? That it was all my fault? Maybe if you had cared enough, if you had fought for me, things would’ve been different. But you didn’t. You just gave up.”
Y/n stared at her, incredulous. “Fought for you? Seola, you were sleeping with half the campus. What was I supposed to do? Beg you to stop?”
Her eyes burned with intensity, and she closed the distance between them in two quick strides. “You were supposed to fight for me!” she yelled, her voice cracking. “Because I needed you! I needed you to show me that I was worth something!”
The raw pain in her voice stopped him cold. For the first time, he saw past the bravado, the cruelty, the arrogance. All he saw was a girl who was broken, who had been hurting long before their relationship fell apart.
“Seola...” he started, his voice softening despite himself.
But she cut him off, placing a hand on his chest. “Don’t,” she whispered, her nails digging into his shirt. “Don’t pretend to care now. Not when you’ve already moved on. Not when you’re with her.”
He frowned, stepping back. “Eunji has nothing to do with this.”
“Doesn’t she?” Seola’s voice was low, dangerous. “You think I don’t know about her? How perfect she is? How kind and caring and loving? Tell me, Y/n, does she make you feel like I did? Does she make your heart race? Does she make you want her so badly it hurts?”
“Seola, stop—”
“No,” she hissed, grabbing the front of his jacket and pulling him close. “You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. But you do owe me this. One last chance. One night. That’s all I’m asking.”
Her breath was hot against his skin, and despite everything, he felt his body respond. She was so close, too close, and the scent of her perfume—something sweet and floral—filled his senses. Memories flooded his mind: late nights tangled together, whispered promises, stolen kisses. But then, the darker memories followed: her cruel words, her betrayal, the way she always made him feel so small.
“I can’t,” he said firmly, trying to push her away. But she held on tighter, her fingers digging into his skin.
“Yes, you can,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear. “You miss me. I know you do. You miss the way I touched you, the way I made you feel. And deep down, you want me just as much as I want you.”
Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he hated how right she was. Even now, after everything, a part of him still longed for her. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Not after everything she’d put him through.
“Seola, this isn’t going to work,” he said, his voice strained. “I’m with Eunji now. I’m happy. Please, just let me go.”
For a moment, she was silent, her grip loosening slightly. Then, without warning, she pressed her lips to his. The kiss was desperate, hungry, full of years of pent-up longing and regret. Y/n froze, torn between pushing her away and giving in. Her tongue slid against his, coaxing his mouth open, and he felt himself responding despite his better judgment.
When she finally pulled away, she looked up at him with pleading eyes. “One night,” she whispered again. “That’s all I need. Let me remind you why we belonged together. And then... if you still want to leave, I’ll let you go. I promise.”
His chest heaved as he struggled to think clearly. This was wrong. So wrong. But the ache in his body told him otherwise. The way her hands roamed over his chest, the way her hips pressed against his... it was too much. And yet, not enough.
“Seola...” he breathed, barely able to form the words.
Her lips curved into a sly smile, and she leaned in close again. “Shh,” she whispered, tracing a finger along his jaw. “Just let me take care of you. Like I used to.”
Before he could protest, she dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands already working to unbuckle his belt. His mind screamed at him to stop her, to pull away, but his body betrayed him. He was hard, achingly so, and the sight of her looking up at him with those dark, possessive eyes only made it worse.
“Wait—” he started, but she silenced him with a sharp tug on his pants. They pooled around his ankles, leaving him exposed to the cool night air—and to her.
Seola didn’t waste any time. She wrapped her lips around him, taking him deep into her mouth with a practiced ease that made his knees buckle. Her tongue swirled around the tip, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through him. He gripped her shoulders, unsure whether to push her away or pull her closer.
“God, Seola...” he groaned, his voice thick with desire.
She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a wicked grin. “Missed this, didn’t you?” she purred, before sinking down again, deeper this time. Her hands gripped his thighs, holding him in place as she worked him with relentless precision.
He was losing control, fast. The rational part of his brain screamed at him to stop, to end this before it went too far. But the rest of him was drowning in sensation, in the heat of her mouth and the way she moaned around him, as if she couldn’t get enough.
“Stop,” he managed to choke out, though his body betrayed him by thrusting forward. “Seola, we can’t...”
She pulled away again, panting slightly. “We can,” she insisted, standing up and pressing her body against his. “And we will. Because you’re mine, Y/n. You always have been.”
Her lips crashed against his again, silencing any protests. She guided his hands to her waist, encouraging him to touch her, to feel her. And despite everything, he couldn’t resist. His fingers found the hem of her skirt, sliding underneath to cup her ass. She moaned into his mouth, grinding against him.
“Take me upstairs,” she whispered, biting his lower lip. “Let me remind you what you’ve been missing.”
He hesitated, torn between the guilt of betraying Eunji and the undeniable pull of Seola’s body against his. But in the end, it wasn’t a choice. Not really. With a groan, he grabbed her hand and led her toward the building, his mind racing with what was about to happen.
As they stumbled into his apartment, Seola pushed him against the door, kissing him furiously. Her hands pulled at his shirt, while his fumbled with the zipper of her dress. Clothes fell to the floor in a haphazard pile, and soon they were both naked, pressed together in a tangle of limbs and desperate need.
She broke the kiss, stepping back slightly to admire him. “You’re still so beautiful,” she murmured, running a hand down his chest. “And you’re all mine.”
Then she turned around, bending over the couch and looking back at him over her shoulder. “Come on, Y/n,” she said, her voice dripping with temptation. “What are you waiting for?”
He hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward, his hands gripping her hips. She gasped as he entered her, her nails digging into the cushions beneath her.
“That’s it,” she moaned, arching her back to meet his thrusts. “Just like that. Fuck me, Y/n. Make me yours again.”
The sound of her voice, the feel of her tight around him... it was too much. He lost himself in the rhythm, in the way she whimpered and begged for more. But even as he moved inside her, a nagging thought crept into his mind. This is wrong. This is...
“Harder,” she demanded, cutting off his thoughts. “Don’t hold back. I can take it.”
And so, he gave in, letting the heat of the moment consume him. But as he glanced down at her, at the way her body writhed beneath his, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a mistake. A delicious, intoxicating, irresistible mistake.
“Seola...” he murmured, his voice rough.
She looked back at him, her eyes glazed with lust. “What is it? Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”
And he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not until...
The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting streaks of gold across the rumpled sheets. Y/n stirred, his body heavy with exhaustion, his mind foggy from the night before. He blinked slowly, trying to piece together what had happened. Seola. Her name echoed in his head like a warning bell. He turned his head, expecting to see her gone, as she often was after their reckless encounters back in university. But this time, she was still there, curled up beside him, her hair splayed across the pillow like ink spilled on paper.
She looked so peaceful—soft, even. It made his chest ache. He shouldn’t have let this happen. He had Eunji now. Sweet, kind Eunji, who deserved better than this. He sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to steady his breathing. His heart pounded, not from desire but from guilt. The weight of it pressed down on him, suffocating.
“Morning,” Seola’s voice broke the silence, smooth and melodic, yet laced with something he couldn’t quite place. She stretched languidly, her bare skin catching the sunlight, and propped herself up on one elbow to look at him. Her lips curved into a sly smile. “You look awful. Rough night?”
Y/n didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Words felt trapped in his throat, tangled with regret and confusion. He wanted to get up, to leave, to pretend this never happened. But his body refused to move.
Seola sighed dramatically, sitting up fully, letting the sheet pool around her waist. She leaned closer, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his arm. “You know,” she began, her tone casual, almost too casual, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
He tensed immediately, his instincts screaming that whatever she was about to say would only make things worse. “Don’t,” he said quickly, his voice hoarse. “Just… don’t.”
Her smile widened, and there was a glint in her eyes that made his stomach twist. “Oh, come on, Y/n. You’re going to want to hear this.” She paused, letting the tension build, savoring it. Then, softly, almost sweetly, she dropped the bomb. “I’m pregnant.”
The room seemed to tilt. Y/n stared at her, his mind struggling to process the words. Pregnant. The word hung in the air between them, heavy and unrelenting. He shook his head, disbelief coursing through him. “No. No, you’re lying.”
Seola laughed lightly, as if they were discussing the weather. “Why would I lie about something like this? It’s true. I found out last week.” She reached for his hand, placing it gently on her stomach. Her skin was warm beneath his palm, and for a moment, he felt frozen. “There’s a little piece of us growing right here. Isn’t that amazing?”
He jerked his hand away as if burned, scrambling to his feet. His chest heaved as he backed away from the bed, his mind racing. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not after everything. “You… you can’t be serious.”
Her expression shifted, her playful smirk fading into something sharper, more intense. “Dead serious,” she said, her voice low and steady. “And it’s yours. I haven’t been with anyone else since we…” She trailed off, letting the implication sink in. “You’re the father, Y/n.”
His knees threatened to buckle. He sank into a chair, his hands gripping the edge of the seat so tightly his knuckles turned white. Father. The word reverberated in his skull, each repetition louder than the last. He felt sick. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He had finally moved on, found someone who truly cared about him. And now… now this.
Seola watched him closely, her gaze calculating. She slid out of bed, standing naked before him without an ounce of shame. She knelt in front of him, her hands resting on his thighs, her touch both grounding and suffocating. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” she asked softly, her voice dripping with false innocence. “A family? A future together?”
He shook his head, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “No. Seola, no. That’s not… we’re not…”
She tilted her head, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “But we could be,” she whispered, leaning in closer, her breath hot against his ear. “Think about it, Y/n. You could have me all to yourself. No more fighting. No more games. Just… us.”
Her words were like a poison, seeping into his veins, clouding his thoughts. He wanted to push her away, to scream that this wasn’t what he wanted. But the way she looked at him—like he was the center of her world—made something inside him waver. For years, he had loved her. Or at least, he thought he had. And despite everything she had done, some small, stupid part of him still craved the warmth she once offered.
As if sensing his hesitation, Seola pressed further. She kissed him, soft and slow, her lips moving against his with practiced ease. He tried to resist, but his body betrayed him, responding instinctively. When she pulled back, her eyes were dark with satisfaction. “See?” she murmured, trailing her fingers along his jaw. “You still want me. You always have.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. How could he deny it when his body screamed otherwise? When every fiber of his being seemed drawn to her, despite the chaos she brought?
Seola stood then, pulling him to his feet. Her hands slid up his chest, her touch deliberate, possessive. “Let me remind you,” she whispered, her voice a dangerous purr. “Let me show you why you belong to me.”
Before he could protest, she kissed him again, harder this time, her teeth grazing his bottom lip. His hands hesitated at his sides before giving in, gripping her hips as if clinging to life itself. She smiled against his mouth, triumphant. “That’s it,” she coaxed, guiding him back toward the bed. “Let go, Y/n. Just let go.”
He was falling, spiraling deeper into her web. And as she lowered him onto the mattress, her hands roaming greedily over his body, he knew he was lost. The guilt, the doubt, the fear—it all melted away under her touch.
For now, at least, she had won.
#kpop#kpop x reader#kpop x y/n#x male reader#beautiful#kpop smut#yandere#yandere stories#seola#kim hyunjung#kim hyun joong#wjsn#wjsn black#wjsn seola#seola smut#dangerous romamce#dark#pregnancy#pregnant#yandere kpop#obsession
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Hiii - for the fic prompts:
girlcedes - 7. Trapped in a room/closet/elevator
Lewis is glaring at Nico like she orchestrated this.
"I have places to be too." Nico says out loud, in her general direction. They're standing as far you can socially distance on an elevator. An elevator that the intercom buzzed in and reported would take fifteen minutes to send in the guys to fix. That was twenty minutes ago. Such glitz and glamour to live in Monaco.
"Not you. Claustrophobia." Lewis grits her teeth. She's sitting in a corner, squatting in her Dior running shoes. Probably showing off her knees can still take it.
Nico's leaning by the glass mirror because she's wearing a white pantsuit.
Oh right. Claustrophobia. Nico always forgets because it's always funny, the cars they drive in is more cramped than the spacious elevator. But it's about control, she gets that. Lewis in a Formula 1 car is just an extension of her body. But Lewis would always keep the door of the drivers room open, back in Mercedes.
"How are you scared of this and not jumping off a plane? It should be child's cake to you. Hm, that's not right. Child's play?" Nico frowns trying to locate the metaphor in the medley of languages in her brain. She speaks mostly to keep Lewis distracted. Nico herself is not, her positive outlook mantras covered this. Negative thoughts cannot happen if you don't let it. That's why she never checked her portfolio after the AI company she invested in rugpulled millions. It simply does not exist if she doesn't give it the power to.
"Skydiving is incredibly safe," Lewis bites the bait, "It's safer than scuba diving. And you're in control the whole time."
"All it takes is one parachute not opening." Nico shrugs. Even the thought makes her shudder. Absolutely not.
"Good thing they strap you with two then." Lewis drawls. She doesn't say it, too graceful these days, but the idiot is implied.
Nico rolls her eyes but is beaten in the marketplace of ideas.
She turns to the mirror, her shoulder length blonde hair bouncing. There's a pimple cropping up under her chin, she can feel it. She presses down on it, warning it to stay there.
"Don't do that - you look fine." Lewis is frowning, looking up at Nico from where she's crouched.
Nico used to obsessively poke and prod at her face staring at the mirror as a teenager. She's a little embarrassed Lewis remembers from their days of sharing rooms during karting.
"It's the only mirror time I get. Vivi and I are very mindful of not passing any body insecurities to the girls. Entering the pre-teens is a very impressionable time." Nico explains. She doesn't need her daughters rubbing off on her complexes.
Lewis gets up, lithe like a cat, in her oversized crewneck. She looks pointedly at the lack of ring on Nico's hand. "How's the divorce going?"
Nico purses her lips. "Conscious uncoupling. Very well, thank you. How's Ferrari?" She switches the subject. "Learn any Italian yet?"
"I've downloaded Duolingo." Lewis smiles, sheepishly, the gap in her teeth is still charming even after all these years.
"I remember teaching you some." In bed, tangled up in each other, another lifetime ago.
"I'm sure none of that was usable, man."
"Hm. You should try ti va di fare dolce su e giù?" Nico smirks.
"What does it mean?" Lewis asks.
Nico just smiles in that way when she knows something Lewis doesn't. "I'm sure Leclerc will be down. Happy to... accommodate." The double entendre in her voice gives it away.
Lewis takes a step closer, her hand on the railing where Nico is standing. And suddenly, the elevator feels like a much smaller space, with nowhere to hide. She shakes her head, the rings on her tattooed hands glittering. Nico feels strangely naked without hers. "He's not my type."
Nico leans forward. "And who is?"
The elevator doors ding open. They are on Lewis' floor.
#WOMANCEDES#I hope you like it <3#f1 rpf#my fics#brocedes#blorbocedes ask#girlcedes#in my head nico is wearing the shiv roy white pantsuit from her honeymoon#shoutout to Elle gayferrair for the Italian translate#Nico is saying 'do you want to make sweet up and down with me'
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what size does love wear? (part 1)
✎ The lights, the podium, and the spotlight are all yours. As an upstart model, your life went by pleasantly with the girls, but maybe you were too dim to realize that you were living in an illusion. Could Leon, the one and only rockstar of the hearts, be the man you were waiting for in a milieu full of counterfeit people, or are you too much of a hopeless romantic?
cw: NO MINORS AND I MEAN IT WHEN I SAY IT, messy messy messy, drugz, fem! model reader, family drama aka daddy and mommy issues, very uncanny and might be disturbing for some people idek, vom!ting and possibly or (implied eating disorders), p in v, oral (fem! receiving) praises, reader is going thru some shii, MDNI, that's all i can come up with, but please let me know if i missed something very vital, and find the song lyrics:3
It all unfolds that night at a soirée to which you were invited in the most gingerbread-like language.
You don’t have a clue how fat cats hang out at such a lavish icebreaker. That these people took you in very recently, right after your meteoric rise to superstardom, and with a wham bang. You didn’t quite make it onto the Hollywood Walk of Fame with all those big golds and jet-set stars, sure, but your killer legs, waist, and pretty tits promised you a chance to eavesdrop a wee bit on Victoria’s secret. Well, who knows? Maybe one day, even without any formal studies in acting, you could star as an aspiring actor in some movie and kiss the handsome and beefcake famous guys. You could be the next lead in a new goofy movie like Fifty Shades of Grey. Hollywood is full of pretty model casts these days, anyway.
So many possibilities.
Mostly with your height, physique, and poise, which would make most men who can’t be more than 5 feet and 7 inches tall (barely) outclass them in every way (never mind the grandfatherly inheritance that your mother inherited from whomever-whatever-who-cares and your surname that unexpectedly gained a notoriety, even your daddy abruptly switched to your mother’s maiden name on paper), you’re the size perfection angel of the runways. Precious, precious you.
A happy family tableau with your mother, who doesn’t listen to your advice to break up with that man, who happens to be your father, and he has a mania for alcohol and the girls younger than him of late.
The only vestige of this particular and domestic picture is you here, dressed in the elegance of a collectible piece from a costly collection of so-and-so, to the party you were summoned to.
“It tastes like shit.”
Claire’s whining in front of you, idly brandishing a hurricane glass full of bubbly as pale pink and powdery as her rosy cheeks. Thankful for the leverage of your elbows on the bistro table between you, you lift your chin, planted in the inner cushions of your joined palms, and give her a passing glance. Then your starry eyes drift back to the human orgy you’ve been tracking since the moment you stepped in the venue.
A myriad of eminent names. How exciting to be able to see their imperfect skin up close under the veneer of make-up. Turns out there is a huge Photoshop business going on in this particular circus.
Still, it’s hard not to get caught up in the allure of their luster. Thinking about how you were unanticipatedly plunged into a world of gold and silver, of all the thesauri that connote the existence of riches, you should absolutely bask in it—if they’ll let you.
“You’ve had too much to drink.” Jill gives Claire a little mouth joke from beside her, which elicits a muttered snort from Claire.
“What else was I supposed to do?”
“Dunno. Maybe snort a line or two. Together.”
“You could’ve told me from the start, Valentine.” Claire rolls her eyes and surveys you with her big blue lenses.
“Hey, you.”
You look up at Claire, a giddy smile lacing your lips.
“Huh?”
“Get in the back room. Jill, you and I are getting the motherfucking sniff on some good coke.”
Coke. Oh, great.
The hot “sport” of your demographic. Once your wacky mom’s, too.
The poison you swore you’d never put your mouth (actually your nose) on, or the antidote to survival, as your father would call it.
A silly little girl’s dumbest and greatest fear.
But you’re too much of a sucker to risk losing a high-profile group of friends like Jill and Claire, the only two girls you respect in this game of whatever. Just reject them, and in a fraction of a second, you’ll be all alone, and people here would pulverize you raw.
So without saying a word, you tag along behind them on a whim, as if cocaine is your passion. Since your friends are here, you just came to kick it.
The proverbial back room turns out to be really far back.
The smell of weed is tangy and mixed with other substances you can’t name the second you walk in. The scent of perfume adds a different festivity. Leaves a seductive melody and holds promises to give you airborne wings.
This must be the precise definition of getting wasted.
A few familiar faces greet you, occasionally stopping your group of three to take a quick photo—a social media travesty, for a photo that implies that the girl who wrapped her arms around you in nylon hugs with her platinum blonde and padded lips, whom you haven’t even said a word to yet, is a hoot on your social media account. Is it worth it?
Hell, maybe.
Followers are everything, even for you.
Chris, ass up, nose to nose in the coarse dust strewn on the glass surface table of the Boeing 707, straightens up as three pairs of heels materialize in front of him, oozing through the see-through transparency of the glass table.
“You’d be a great big brother if you didn’t always finish the best one ahead of us.”
“I’m always a big and great brother.” Chris Redfield, big and virile, stretches up in front of your eyes and wipes his nose with the back of his sleeve like a credit card sliding horizontally and smoothly through a POS machine.
Just like a goddamned joke.
In flesh and blood, Chris Redfield, the lead guitarist—a member of the very band you’ve been a diehard fan of since you were a teenager and whose songs have lulled you into slumber—is in front of you. Yes, you really were sleeping with rock music playing in the background.
His pupils are vacant. Like his cranium.
“You all look like those three girls from that cartoon where a professor accidentally creates three special strong girls—ahhh—what was the name again?”
“Powerpuff Girls?” Jill interjects at Chris’ reference with a wan grin, leaning her leg over the glass tilt table. Claire also crouches in front of her and clasps onto Jill’s knees. Almost as if she’s biding her time to eat her out. She might do that. Later.
“Yeah!” Chris snaps his fingers.
“Uh, I...” You spring forward to introduce yourself before the conversation drifts. Girls are already nose-dipping in the dusty spill on the table, and you stick your hand out to Chris.
Surprisingly, he accepts the handshake straight away. In the course of these formal introductions, whenever you were to extend your hand to someone, they’d be looking you over from head to toe like you were a little bit of a poseur. Ironically, Chris welcomes you with a genuine smile. It seems modesty hasn’t kicked the bucket.
You’re being all polite, handing Chris your name, and then—cue dramatic music—someone crashes through the pivot door like it’s a Hollywood blockbuster.
Every head turns in the cumulative direction of the sound, all but assured by the door’s dramatic swoosh, all collectively.
Turns out it’s none other than Leon Kennedy, the finest and equally “big-time rockin’ rock star of the twentieth generation,” as they say.
“His ass again?” Claire pipes up from where she’s sitting. She’s not a big fan of Leon. She has her reasons. In the interest of brevity, Claire and Leon had, in fact, dated in the interim. Once upon a time, there was a ship named Cleon, a name the adoring admirers nicknamed their own ship name in all corners of the tabloids.
While you can understand how ticked off she is, you might as well not do it at all. There is, at last, a deck of cards in front of you that you may see for the first and last time in your life. In fact, he is even moving towards you with his own confident steps.
For you, it’s a moment of blimey, but for him it’s as natural and insignificant as the instinct to pee when he’s drunk too much stuff.
“Hi there.”
Now you can understand people amplifying at the mere sound of a certain voice and, if necessary, wetting their pants, pussies, and dicks—Leon isn’t the pickiest about it, really. Now everything makes total sense. He must be getting laid as much as he’s making money with his mouth.
And he is. Add a pinch of that buzzing singing voice to a muscular body, a tall stature, and money in swollen pockets, and Leon gets what he wants in a jiffy. Kiss his ass if you will.
“There’s my cutest groupie.” Leon waves at Claire, heading for a fall.
Claire draws her middle finger at him and bites back a repartee.
Not a single name he doesn’t speak in the narrow circle of this social outlet. Then he sees you, and the wheel of fortune takes a reversal.
A newfangled face, delicate facial expressions, and striking beauty. Clearly, you’re the precious neophyte around here.
The art of the soft soap in the eccentric azure of his eyes is hard to miss. A depth to be dug into with picks and shovels.
How he greets you with a small mental shake of his head in contrast to his expressive gaze is enough for the conventional first pleasantries.
It’s hard to calculate how much it’s right to cast pointed glances at your friend’s ex-boyfriend. On a more cursory inspection, you and Claire weren’t that close, at least not close enough to make those ground rules—chicks before dicks ones. (Excuses!) You definitely need proper shrinks.
“Fucker.” Claire coughs up any remaining resentment in an epithetical whisper under her breath.
The exes find their way out of the scene, separated, and Claire tugs on your arm and flings herself straight into the dance floor. Leave it to Leon to steal a glance at you. He stares long and hard at the beauty next to his ex as you stomp off the scene. To Leon, the past is in the past, and the present is here to be remade. It’s nerve-racking when you leave, but he loves to watch you walking away.
And Jill is too doped up on cocaine to join you all.
─────────────────
“We never would have come if we knew he’d be here.” You tell Claire as she strums her hips to a peppy groove. You just want to bring your girl back to earth, even if it’s just a pulse.
“What? Jesus! Can’t hear you, gorgeous!” Claire curls her hands at the corners of her mouth as she lets it out. Of course she can’t hear you over this hubbub. You’re such an airhead.
But point taken. You shrug your shoulders as if to say it’s nothing and dance in unison to the song along with her jigging dance moves.
─────────────────
The DJ gets you moving with the record and the tempo of his tunes, the laser disco lights blinking on and off like thunder, making you dizzy from the jetlagged fatigue of the fateful night. For how many hours have you been standing in these Pigalle Follies and guzzling Silver Oak? God, you’re a mess. A hot one, that is.
The flashing disco lights alternately brighten and dazzle your eyes. You can’t even take a step, let alone do the dance. Sure, you’re running on fumes, but at least you look cute doing it.
That’s what happens when you drink on an empty stomach. Stupid bitch, you’re chewing yourself out.
Lights are moving sideways and up and down.
The sweat beading on the hair gathered at the nape of your neck is cold. You blink your eyes and cast them around for Claire, dim and desperate. Not a single facsimile of a peer stands.
Okay, but where’s she?
You push your way through the flesh and blood horde and find your way out of the club to the back door. Threshing, you flounder out of a dented metal door. The pit of your stomach is parched, as if tiny worms have colonized your entrails and organs.
Your hand pressed against your midsection is of no help.
Leaning against the wall, you’re propped up; you squint at the figure of a man (?) that now unfolds in front of you with the swoosh of the door. A lighted cigarette in his hand, he makes a knife-edge turn and spots you right off the bat.
Sewn into his eyes is a tapestry of something akin to concern. They are adumbral but bloodless and ultramarine.
Voices buzzing in your ear burst the bag of intricacies with a sharp pinprick. When you can feel the echoes finally reaching your earbuds, you can vaguely feel the man reaching for your forearm and tracing circles on your skin with soothing strokes.
“What the hell are you so tipsy for?”
Tipsy? Hell? He’s probing something about you.
“Leave me alone.”
“What? Leave you like this in the middle of an alley? What are you? Five?”
Your stomach produces a strange twinge, right there, in that very second.
You totter, but the man holding you by the arm means what he says.
“Look at you. What a fucking mess, huh, girl?” There he goes, tutting you like it’s his favorite sport.
“Don’t push it, Leon. What’re you, my mother?”
You just frown and shoot him a syringe of Claire’s inherited hatred but in your style.
“Go away. I’ll be fine.”
With all the audacity of a brilliant I-fucking-hate-my-best-friend’s-ex-boyfriend, you pull your arm free of his reach.
“They’ll eat you alive in here. You know that, right?” His voice is scratchy, preaching to you, but it’s emptier than a banker’s heart. His gaze, as in.
You don’t know. Makes you edgy, this one fucker.
“Why do you care?”
Really. What’s it really to him? Leon, too, in the clash of a second and a spontaneous question, unexpectedly finds himself striving for words.
When you push off the wall against which you were leaning, balance beats the hell out of you. Standing on the spikes of your heels is like an arsenal of iron nuts. So much so that Leon sucks in his breath in sheer exasperation before gripping you tightly by the forearm and flicking the glowing amber stub to the ground. Savior complex moment perhaps; he’s a martyr to his savior complex, not even understanding why he’s going this far.
“Where’re those girls you’re always stuck with? Claire and Jill?”
Obviously you don’t have an answer to that. You, for that matter, don’t have an answer to anything in the preamble. You just gawk at him with a vagabond animus.
You brush it off with a dejected shrug, and the withering stare you garner from him is quite enough to put you in your place, and then more. The abject skeleton in the closet that follows is beyond telling.
The puddle of bile that you can’t hold in any longer gushes out of your mouth. There and then. Luckily, courtesy of your miraculous reflexes, you turn your back on him and excrete the stagnant liquor in your system.
Leon retaliates by stepping back, as your arm falls out of his hands and you stoop, knees sore. A nervy and explosive burst of emotion is impinging on his face. You can’t see it, but you can more or less picture what kind of acrimony he’s donning.
What a perfect first impression spectacle.
Your gagging voice dies from throwing up in the empty streets; warm, misty tears well up in your eyes, the usual stuff, but the averse touch of his hand brushing your hair back from your face is a special ooh.
“You’re so fucked up.”
He couldn’t be more serious.
“You’re so pretty.”
You can’t be serious either!
But just as you lift your head to give him an answer, your stomach lurches to your feet one more time. So yes, you called your close friend’s singer boyfriend “pretty” in its truest essence, in all its pomp and circumstance. Delirious and graphic, hats off to you. You feel dizzy and more than ever dead. Like dead dead, open mouth, insert foot. The nebulous valance in front of your eyes is as opaque as an unaesthetic Instagram filter. Your balance is in tatters, and you slump, and then a thickset arm supports the back of your head securely.
─────────────────
How you made it through the dawn is a big red question mark.
The bundle of sunlight struck by the zenith of the alarming number of the morning is bright and citrusy. Almost no trace of its golden amber flavor. That’s because it’s not a morning sun. This is a midday sun.
You finally open your eyes at two o’clock in the forenoon. The sight that awaits you... what the hell is this?
This certainly isn’t your house, but whose residence is this?
And most importantly, where are your clothes? Why are you in your underwear?
You swallow the venin on the underside of the tongue, finding no strings as you idle around because you don’t even have any clues to connect the pieces together.
Could you have gotten so hammered yesterday that you fucked someone like those people in the movies?
At least he’s rich.
The interior is lavishly decked out; your restless eyes drift from the bed to the rows of frames on the wall. Pictures and hyperlinks and whatnot. Why would anyone hang a picture of the fucking Golden Gate Bridge in their bedroom?
What kind of moron did you fuck last night?
It’s up to you to figure out the equation.
You slip on a tacky jacket and spring out of bed. When you pick up your phone and peer at the screen and see that the digital numbers are advancing by leaps and bounds, you dash out of the room. Whatever the fuck you did in this bed yesterday with whomever you did it with has to be consigned to the past. No time for any of that. That’s what one-night stands are all about.
“Oh, fuck. Claire, I overslept. You gotta help me sway Ada so she doesn’t give me a hard time, babe.” Your fingers are rapidly drumming, and your eyes are on the screen as you thump into someone’s fucking chest.
It’s like lightning is spinning in your head. The phone falls out of your hand and thuds a heartbeat on the floor. Ouch. No shit. Apple, what a shitty marque of ass.
“My phone!”
It seems no matter how much money is just a green piece of paper to you now, or digital numbers with fat zeros in your bank account, there will always be a staunch ghetto in you. Somewhere deep in your very psyche.
“Jeez. Relax.” He crouches down and picks up the very remnant of your hapless phone.
“What happened to ‘hi’ and ‘hello’?”
No, but wait a second.
The distinct sound of yesterday’s “tryst.”
“Leon!”
Apparently your memory has erased all the barf memories from last night. Give them a little time, and they’ll chip away piece by piece and roast you in vile hell for the rest of the day.
“Leon!” He’s impersonating your voice, or rather your holler. Pretty much verbatim. It’s disturbingly good. He hands you your phone. The screen is cracked and spiderwebbed, and you take it reluctantly. Cough it up. You have to get a new model.
“Is this your place?”
“Eh. Like what you see?”
He’s acting like it’s all fun and games, and he wouldn’t bat an eyelash if the sky fell. His arrogance is of a priceless candor.
Just take a deep breath, in and now out. Everything’s all right. Everything is right as rain.
No way you fucked your best friend’s ex-boyfriend. You refuse to believe that.
“Why am I here?”
Leon gets the message.
Nonetheless, he doesn’t want to spoil your good mood by regaling you with your yesterday throw-up story, and he doesn’t want you to start your day like that. Everyone deserves to have a good day, and especially after a night of fuckery like last night, you need a whole Mediterranean circumnavigation.
“Look, sweetheart,” he begins, “let me buy you a brunch, yeah? There’s this place, okay? Down the block. Oh, they whip up scrambled eggs so fine. I’m talking about finger-licking good.”
He really is treating you over for some “brunch.”.
But why does everything have to be piled on top of each other? He just leaves you high and dry.
“Come on. Omelet and coffee. Yummy. Huh, and a special mix for you that’ll sober up a hangover.” Leon reaches out his hand to you as if in a desperate bargain.
“It’s a special Kennedy remedy.”
Your eyes fall on his outstretched palm while he’s grinning winningly.
“Sure. Why not? You do owe me an explanation anyway.”
There you go. He’s got you under his thumb now—like a walk in the park.
“Nice bra.” Leon can barely avert his eyes from your cleavage. “But don't forget to change, sunshine. I reckon I can find a spare shirt for ya.”
What a dipshit.
Rest is a moot point.
─────────────────
You’re not exactly sitting with the shittiest man in the world and chowing down on a portion of omelette. Really, the place where he brought you for a meal isn’t bad enough to be described as decent.
“So last night—”
He derails the conversation.
“No. We didn’t.” He sips his coffee, which dribbles down his parched throat. He’s been telling you this story for what seems like forever, even though it’s downright laughable—something hard to believe.
Pleasantly enough, you manage to shake off the blues, but now Leon’s hot under the collar.
The truth is, these bitter coffees are not his cup of tea, ’cause he loves tea more, but when he saw you getting a heavy Caffè Americano, he ended up ordering one too, just for a little spice.
Now Leon regrets his decision. Never again. Vanilla all the way, long live crony capitalism.
“I can’t even bring myself to believe it.”
“Neither can I. Who knew you had a little Viking god in you?”
“Viking god?”
Leon nods in approbation. The musing is rather sweet, but too much sweetness makes your cheeks fat, and that’s the absolute last thing you need. Pounds. Swollen face.
“They drink heavily too, don’t they?”
“I don’t drink that much,” you rectify him.
“You do. I know a blackout drunk when I see one.”
You palm your face in dismay, because how long can you put up with this charade?
“Why did you drink all that?”
For what does it matter to him? That you have to implicitly profess to him that you detest him. Can’t be buddy-buddy with someone Claire hates; blood and guts be damned.
“Nevermind. I mean, you don’t always get some chivalrous knight on a white horse coming to your rescue. Watch yourself. Get your shit together next time.”
Get your shit together.’
You’re not planning to get your life together, which has never been in order, on his say-so.
This is no picnic.
─────────────────
That day, after that specific coffee date, not only were you tardy for the last rehearsal, but you were also vituperated by Claire.
“I don’t trust you.”
“Claire, I swear to you—”
“Oh, not this again!”
Sheva’s writhing between you and Claire, her head is cracking open, so to speak. She keeps one hand on your shoulder and the other on Claire’s forearm, but her arms draw back, both of you rebuffing her every gesture.
“You showed up in his jacket. For fuck’s sake. You’re looking me in the eye and fucking lying to me.”
“It’s not what you think.”
Your words have always been meager in expressing your true self-defense. It’s no better now.
“So you really are fighting over a guy. This is really happening. Girls, this guy bleaches his hair regularly!” Sheva chimes in and maintains her equanimity. What you are doing is quite puerile in her eyes.
“I wonder how you’d react if your best friend fucked your ex-boyfriend, Sheva. Would you be so cool and mighty about it?”
Aww. She still considers you her BFF.
“Yeah, that’s what it’s called, an ex! Why can’t you just believe her? If you can’t trust your best friend, who else can you trust?” Sheva nudges Claire with a little gust of force, and Claire slumps down on the couch. She’s cross and indignant and doesn’t care that her butt stings when Sheva pushes her.
Seems calmer, or that’s what you’re praying for. Please let it be so. Please, please, friendship Gods and Goddesses.
“You need to believe me, Claire. I told you.”
Not a word comes out of her mouth, and she purses her million-dollar lips closely. Looking like she can’t decide on what might fall out of her tongue.
“I didn’t sleep with Leon.”
You grovel on your knees; just how pathetic you can be when you want to be.
Another last whine, forlorn (you may have already said the same thing a hundred times since you’ve arrived home).
“You saw it on my dress. Full of fucking retch, Claire!”
More details to go, and you wish you could explain to her how utterly incapacitated you were last night. From under her pretty eyelashes, she gives you a downcast appraisal.
“I went out for some air after dancing with you. I was a mess, Claire. I looked everywhere for you. Then he came, and, you know, silly me, I fucking dozed off.”
Sheva hugs her arms across her chest, monitoring a hushed and more subdued conversation between the two of you. Probably best not to interrupt.
“Ugh. He always loved being the big hero.” Claire finally swallows her reticence, endearingly vacillating. Thank God.
“Don’t fall for him. Don’t be a moron. God, you’re so stupid. You don’t even know it. He’ll set you up in a game, and before you know it, you’ll be stuck in the mud.”
Well, you weren’t expecting a herd of counselors from your best friend. It leaves a peppery ginger on your tongue.
“Pfff. Claire, don’t be ridiculous. You really think I’m hung up on Leon? He’s not my type. Piers is my type, duh.” You say it like the kookiest thing you’ve ever heard in your life.
For all the things you don’t know, you speak with the vanity of a clueless nepo baby, as if you’ve been in this line of endeavor since the day you were born.
“I saw the way he looked at you. I know that look.”
Ha. Now she’s channeling the ultimate Daenerys Targaryen speech.
“Very well, Claire Targaryen.” You smile dotingly at her, thinking it wouldn’t harm sharing a witty little tidbit.
“Seriously... just go, okay? Leave me alone.”
That’s where the rubber hits the road. Claire, your dearest friend, wants you out of here. It’s unbelievable. In your head, your memory is bare and there are no words, but your heart is crushed in a tearful pain that you can’t articulate. There are no labels or names for this feeling in your vocabulary.
You blink at her, twice and your smile frazzle subtly.
She won’t change her mind, that is for sure. She wants you gone.
You get up and walk out of there while you can. Sheva lingers behind you, but you’re fast and rightfully upset.
─────────────────
Wearing Leon’s Schott jacket and the t-shirt combo he provided is not exactly the kind of fancy getaway you’d want to pull off, but you’re quite adamant.
You go to the only place you can go.
To home.
It’s been years; you haven’t seen your parents, and who knows what it’s like now? In the car, your model face, admired by millions, the one you bequeathed from those two people who hated each other like a curse on their souls so passionately, is in a state of shambles.
Walking into the garden of a vast estate your mom bought for a pittance, you can spot your father’s nifty all-black Stellantis. It sparkles in the glow of the porch light just above the main doorjamb.
You cringe and then look at the door and the gold-engraved “welcome” inscription on the double sash of the wooden door. Just how “cozy” would it be to step in here again after so many years?
As you muster up the guts within yourself to ring the doorbell, the door itself flies open. Two pairs of eyes you’ve never seen before, but who instantly identify your face, are staring at one another.
“Oh my God! It’s you!” The girl is the walking example of the L.A. accent itself.
Since she’s wearing a skintight “daddy’s girl” tank top and a short denim skirt, odds are good that you’re talking to one of your dad’s new dollies. You know, the bimbo and the Barbie ones.
She envelops you in a bear hug. Sweet, toffee, and mucilaginous undertones of muscat perfume overwhelm all your senses.
“I’m your biggest fan. Oh, my room and my walls are full of your latest Vogue photoshoots. Versace was such a fantastic choice for your palette. That dress... ah! I-uh. Was. In. Love.”
There’s a certain luster in the girl’s eyes as she goes on and on. Really, Dad, how old could this poor girl be? You can’t stop thinking about it, but the more you think about it, the more deeply it sickens you.
“Thanks.”
As riveted as you were by the prospect, you had gotten far enough in this biz to learn how to keep those around you at bay with fake cheerful smiles. Perhaps you really do have that rampaging Hollywood blood coursing through your veins.
“I came to see my dad, but—”
She sweeps her arm down from your shoulder to your waist, and with her free hand, she whips out her flip phone, smiling at the camera.
“Say cheese!”
You don’t.
Your pose with a faded pallor mirrors on her screen, and you catch a dubious glance from her. She’s plainly querying you.
“A little smile would do you good...”
“Bitch.” She nags the last word in a barely audible coo, clammed up more than any of the preceding chunks of words that came out of her mouth.
Excellent.
Like you have no problems, and you have to put up with this horseshit. Why did you even bother coming here? This house isn’t even your home. Not anymore. They’ve carted away everything from your childhood, and a handful of crumbs of fragmentary images of the past are all that’s left of any of it for you.
No point insisting on three drips of memories in a life that takes many liters to survive. Nostalgia is frivolous.
Besides, you feel bitchy enough to give this girl her paycheck.
Except your dearest father does intervene. His noisome mug never dims a morsel, not even when he sees you.
“What a strange coincidence, sweetheart.”
“Certainly is.”
Forget it.
Could a man who never knew how to be a decent father suddenly, by some strange turn of fate, come to discover what it means to be one? You’re a delusional one. This is just one of your little glitches—the very first instinct of a little girl running to her daddy any time she’s hurt. He never knew how to mend and heal those little wounds in the first place.
“Why did you come here?” Your father’s brows shoot to his hairline. A horrible sight for his hair is receding. Reprehensibly.
Doesn’t look like he’s going to let you in, though. He appears quite happy with his new girlfriend on his arm, and his common-law wife, your mother, is somewhere who knows where.
“Well. It’s Mom.” You perjure, drawing a blank verse or two. Moments like these are precisely when the words essentially latch at the base of your throat.
“She’s not here.”
“Ha. Yeah. I can see that.” Your facial tissues, your lips, they all start to ache from ersatz smiling arts and language. Poker face can only do what it costs.
“I think—”
“You need to—”
Your words and your father’s words jar with one another. It’s a mess. Even for a glimpse, it baffles you how much emotion there is in the old man’s face. And him too. His girlfriend rolls her eyes, a numbing distaste for the father and daughter in all this kerfuffle.
“Ugh. This is so boring.”
She walks inside.
You nervously fidget with the folds of the jacket Leon gave you as a provisional.
“I think I’d better go.”
“You’re right.” The old man clears his throat as if he were about to overcome an obstacle. He’s silently begging you to put an end to his misery here, and you’re doing that just fine; you’re always ready to walk the tracks.
“Good night, Dad.”
“Night, kiddo. I’ll call you when your mom gets home.”
“Sure. I’ll be waiting.”
You won’t. How would anybody give a fuck? It’s too late.
It’s nothing but a night alone for a wounded heart and the coveting of a whim that never had a chance to bloom.
Either your menstrual cycle is nearing or the end itself is near.
The billboards are lit up with crystallized lights. It’s a visual. Makes your eyes glaze over a bit.
The sign just above it reads “THE END IS NEAR!” in capital lettering. Above that are plaques with the new single releases of Leon and his group. He’s the talk of the city, and the world for that matter, so his face is in the foreground, a cerebral display, and Chris and Carlos’ faces are hot on his shoulders. The chorus of their million-selling track on Spotify is rasping in your frostbitten ears. Leon’s voice is a smooth crossover riff, raspy, and he’s making love with the bass guitar.
On the terrace where you are sitting, a breeze gently caresses your face, leaving the crisp touch of snow on your cheek. The cold sinks into your veins, blue-tinted blood rushing through your body, no thanks to the booze. You feel queerly toasty.
Leon’s jacket definitely lasts through the cold winters. It’s like your personal furnace.
The traffic is hectic past the glass handrail, jostled by the car lights streaming down, and the first baby snowflakes of January are pelting down from the sky. It’s quite late, the rush hour of hungover midnight.
Even as the elliptical chases the minute hand, you watch the passers-by. The prominent and whitewashed faces are just names. They greet you, acknowledge you with gracious smiles, but that’s it. Never so genuine that they would actually sit down next to you.
Except for one name.
Except for Leon, who, in what must have been an illusory twist of fate, casually crosses the table with a flute of champagne in his hand.
He doesn’t recognize you at first when he passes by your booth, but on the second glance, he captures that swan-like grace at once.
Stepping backwards, as if he’s moonwalking, he skips over to your side to forestall your horrified side-eye.
“I shoulda known you were a vampire. You never sleep.”
He thinks he’s made a stylish enough debut with these words. Whatever it takes to charm you.
“No, come on. Are you stalking me?”
“Nah. I’m too much of a busy man for that kind of thing, sweetheart. Though I’ve heard on some fanfiction sites that there are people out there. They write me off as a complete weirdo.”
He slides into the chair straight across from you.
“Check it out when you’re feeling like it.”
Absently your eyes wander over his shoulder and zero in on the mass of light in the distance. In shimmering floodlights, people are laughing and making TikTok videos, some twerking, others striking jaunty poses for the camera for their thirst trap edits. Bread and butter for the fans.
“’s rude to overlook someone when they’re talking to you. Didn’t your mother tell you that?”
In your consciousness, you realize that even Leon’s name is lost in the cacophony of your milieu. You still do have a problem named Leon at this table.
“I don’t have time for this.”
“Time for what?”
Thoughts pile up in the back of your foggy brain, but they don’t coalesce into a harmonious, final answer. The blurry words worm their way out of your mouth, and they evaporate in the bitter cold air.
Should you be kind and remind him that you’re weak?
“I don’t know.” You bluntly say, but Leon can smell the suspense.
“Are you drunk again?”
The arch of your eyebrow furrows instinctively, automatic as the blooming of a flower when you water it—flourishing and blushing. But drown it too much, and it wilts, fades. He just doesn’t grasp it, can’t get it through his thick skull that you don’t want to chit-chat.
Be that as it may, there’s one fact that’s indisputable: you want to fuck him. You’re simply at odds with yourself.
The more Leon comes at you, the more you’re falling into error, but beggars can’t be choosers.
It’s unfortunate that you can roll over when you feel a stone.
That thing you’re ruthlessly searching for could quite possibly be Leon. He’s the one who has reduced you to the devil’s quarry himself. Either that or you’re the one in extremis.
Right now, however, it’s a bet neither of you care about. Unworthy of further discussion. Mouths are otherwise occupied.
Your mouth shamelessly hyphenates his name while his mouth ecstasies on the honeydew betwixt your spread legs. Your eyes roll graphically as the tip of his nose, which looks good when he takes a snort from the lining of vanilla icys, bumps against the nacre of your clit a crack or two. It’s like you’re possessed by something, by demons or poltergeists.
The sullen and muffled fumes of profanity are belching out of the bedroom door where he’s propping you up against it. This is the very public domain information; Leon Kennedy is an excellent pussy eater.
It’s one thing to hear from the women he’s slept with that he’s that swell; it’s quite something else to have the saccharine taste of your cunt melting in his mouth like cotton candy on the tip of his tongue just then.
“Leon... fuck. No. Want it.” Your tongue is all dry.
You can’t remember the last time you felt the highs of ecstasy from a tongue fuck like this. Hollywood is full of people with small dicks, and the whole insertion and pull-out game sucks here, foreplay is long gone.
Luckily, you can always take a chance on someone (actually your best friend’s ex-boyfriend) who at least knows how to worship what he sees, and you reap the rewards of the risk you take. And he feels generous enough to let you have it all tonight.
With a touch as sensuous as a butterfly’s wing, his thumb meanders through your aching bundle of nerves, igniting a fire of euphoria through your body. When he lightly palms your opening, when he feels the plushness of your slick walls, a delicate breath escapes your mouth, akin to a prayer of subservience to this very moment of pure pinch and rapture.
“So sweet when you cum.”
He blows your mind, the story of how you got here, the blowjob you pulled on him in his car — all that’s in the past. The only thing that matters is that you need to forget everything that happened tonight in the morning and the painstaking labor of that commitment. Pulling his belt on and off takes no extra time flat. His aching erection takes a toll on Leon, both psychologically and physically.
When he tucks you properly into his bed, he casts a phantom over you like he’s your own exclusive brand of ghost. Kissing on a first date was never his thing, but he can’t let you go when his lips are still tantalized by your moreish taste.
He’s making a nicer entrance than you’d expect and then some; you’re squeezing him so tightly, and he’s stippling hot kisses across the tender flesh of your throat.
Breathless and forehead to forehead is too romantic and superfluous for a debut tryst, but that’s what rebound sex is for.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck.”
Maybe he’s louder than you are in these seconds— in these very seconds of his whet of thrust followed by the seconds of him pulling out soon to only bully back into your dewy cunt.
Makes your head reeling, and he wallows in the sin of the tightness stretching around the sheer girth of his cock.
“Pussy’s so fucking good. She’s all swollen from me.” His whisper is fervid and sweeping against your cheek.
Yes. Indeed, his mouth doesn’t seem to be shutting up here either, even when he’s fucking you deep in his own bed.
The deep azure shade of his eyes is clouded with pearlescent blue; his pupils are pitch-black orbs, and he watches his cock slide in and out of your drenched pussy in chaotic upheaval, the metal of his frenum piercing taunting your swollen clit as you drape his dick in a warm cocoon.
“Pretty, pretty pussy suckin’ me so nice, yeah?” His voice is a throaty whisper that makes your poor, mushy brain tingle tunefully — an acrid, itchy scab that has just covered the wound.
“Fuck,” he grunts crassly, “been thinking about this all—ungh!—night—this fucking skirt up and fucking you real loud, baby.”
Seriously, he could just write a song or a lengthy poem for your lovely pussy right here and then.
A hubristic tinge variegates his pink lips, a wicked one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s enjoying this; hell, he’s fucking loving it. His laugh-like treble is a low rumble as he pounds into you with a little more force, a little more urgency. The bed rocks under you, groaning abjectly.
“C’mon, baby, cum on my cock. Y’know I got you. I got you so good.”
He knows how to do it.
Once bodies and emotions are merged, they move into a harmonic coherence, and just like that, he makes you cum for the second time tonight. A string of bland events that are frozen in your brain, clinging to your fiber, you feel your own tears trickling down your cheek in an attempt to get rid of them in one fell swoop, barely blinking open your eyes.
You cradle his cheek closer, pushing away the wisps of hair falling in curtains in front of his blues. You want to kiss away the cruelty that cloaks his lips, but Leon, unable to tear himself away from your pussy that is still squeezing him, is too engrossed for such kisses.
One blink and you’ll miss that fleeting moment as the seconds tick by, Leon barely pulls out a shred from you and strokes his cock on your belly until he finds comfort in it, painting white ribbons on your dainty skin.
Seconds afterward are spent on your own, burdened by the cost of your one night’s slip-up, and you two stare at each other wide-eyed.
Two pairs of eyes, parted lips, and a kind of rare prettiness you usually find in men that will haunt you for a while. Ken blonde hair aglow in the light of the dawn and buried layers of emotions locked away in secrets that are too debauched to divulge.
Pearls of promise on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t dare spill them out. Heaven will hate you. Claire will hate you.
In Leon’s estimation, per contra, you’re a damsel in distress, big eyes, and a girl who has somehow succeeded in wrapping all her depravity in the thin threads of her angelic eyes. Seraphic but dangerous. An inner part of his brain keeps hammering into his thoughts that everything has only just begun.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x fem reader#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy
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enhypen’s reaction to black!reader’s new braided hairstyle!
BLACK HAIR ! ☆ 엔하이픈
"I don’t care if it's 4b or 3c whether she moesha or niecy if she got her wig done like khaleesi i know the effort it took wasn't easy"
black hair - piff marti
a/n: hi hope u enjoy!!
c/w: just a TINCH suggestive. fluff. black reader obv
heeseung ✩ ₊˚
- if you thought he was crazy before try coming home w some braids. AND DONT LET IT BE GODDESS BRAIDS TOO?
- you cannot keep his hands out your hair or this man off of you
- he'll just keep staring at you like he's gonna jump you any second
- he swears he just fell in love again
- buys you a bonnet with his face on it ?
jay ✩ ₊˚
- he loves your hair in any style literally. afro, wig, silk press, locs, he thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on.
- so when you came home with braids, it was no different.
- the typa bf to buy all the products you need 🎀
- "baby i'm at the hair store... which mousse did you say you needed again?"
- will tie your hair up for you when... needed!!
jake ✩ ₊˚
- turned on
- HE CAN'T HELP IT MAN
- you look sooo good he needs that immediately
- once he's calm though, he cannot keep his hands out your hair, absentmindedly playing with a braid while you're talking
- definitely makes you get a 'J' charm to go around it
- buys himself a bonnet like
sunghoon ✩ ₊˚
- cheesing like a mf
- takes so many pictures of you and shows them to everyone
- loves when you put them in a bun, he finds it sexy
- sniffs ur head like a weirdo, but really, he just loves how it smells
sunoo ✩ ₊˚
- so infatuated with your hair that he learns how to do braids on you himself! stylesbysunoo
- literally studies the technique and the history of braids, once he learns about it he loves them even more
- will help you mousse them, or wrap them or do your haircare routine
- thinks you look too cute, literally kisses you every 3 seconds
- has a Pinterest board of hairstyles you'd look cute in
jungwon ✩ ₊˚
- sees you walk in and is gagged
- immediately asks if you guys can match (you just give him two plaits)
- innocently asks a lot of questions, but he means no harm!
- cannot stop complimenting you, literally giggles like a school girl every time you lock eyes.
- puts them in different styles with a bow on top
niki ✩ ₊˚
- loves when you get braids, will even help you take them down when you're ready.
- likes to play in them, giving u silly ass styles talkin bout "its cute"
- definitely wears your bonnet like a hat
- thinks you're even more beautiful with braids, but you don't need to know all that
#enhypen#enhypen reactions#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#kpop smut#enha fluff#enha smut#kpop reactions#enhypen x black reader#black reader#kpop x black reader
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Crazy idea.
Yandere Monkeys x Yandere reader
They've been stalking each other without knowing and they only found out when a guy was flirting with reader and a girl was flirting with the monkeys and the monkeys decided to k💀ll the guy and bury the body only to find reader burying the body of the girl that was flirting with them.
Great deadly minds think alike 🥰🔪🩸
(Lmk Wukong) He's been stalking you for a couple of months now, he saw you at a bakery eating a slice of peach cobbler and he was smitten ever since. He followed you everywhere ever since learning about your daily routine, where you work, your friends, your hobbies, and more. Then one day he saw something that made his blood boil, a guy was flirting with you at the mall you clearly looked annoyed but maintained a polite smile. Wukong would be out for blood if this girl wasn't blocking his few, he was annoyed and ignored her only to find that you disappeared from his field of vision. Oh well, he'll find you later right now he needs to bury the corspe but before he can he saw you burying a body yourself. Wukong Quickly saw the dead body of girl from earlier and he was in love with you all over again. He soon found out you were stalking him way before he even say you.
(HIB Wukong) You know, I think he would be bad at stalking, considering he sticks out like a sore thumb. Though you made it quite easy for him to follow you around as you would do the same thing every day, mainly because you were doing odd jobs around the village. One day, he saw a guy flirting with you he was very into you and wanted to ask you out, and that's when Wukong found out they'll be hell to pay now. So one night, Wukong followed the guy home, glaring at his back with red eyes, and when he saw he was totally alone, that's when Wukong strikes. Though here's the thing he didn't know, he was being flirted with by a merchant, and He's about to find down What happened to her. Wukong had found you burying the charcoal body of the woman who flirted with him, and for once as you ran to hug him he finds out you were Stalking him as soon as he got here.
(NR Wukong) He is the master of stalking and invading personal space. He saw you in a bar, and he was immediately obsessed. He followed you from a safe distance every night to different clubs. Heck, he'll even follow you to the liquor store or whatever store is open at night. Everything was fine and normal until one night the cashier kelp flirting with you, as you paid for your chips pissing off Wukong but another pretty lady came up to hit on him. Unfortunately, Wukong was already occupied, making that young man pay with his life, but when he went to bury the body, he had found you. Casually dragging the dead body of the woman who was with him earlier, when your eyes met you both were in shocked but soon smiled with blushes and After disposing the bodies you both went on a lovely date. Thank goodness you decided to stalk him again tonight, Otherwise, you would have lost him to that floozy.
(MKR Wukong) He stalks you whenever he has to patrol the camp and protect the monk, his territorial and possessive Instincts going into speed drive. He would Secretly , follow you all around town and Forrest whenever your heading home. Wukong need he needed to have you for himself and worked his way to make you fall for him, that was until he saw a man talking to you. When Wukong saw that he also saw red in blind bloodlust and vengeance he swiftly kid that guy and when to bury his corspe. That was until he saw you burying a girl from the market, turns out he was to angry to notice The girl flirting with him. That's how Wukong knew that you were the one for him forever, he was so turned on when he found that you stock him too.
(Netflix Wukong) I just feel like he would end somebody out of jealousy, and paranoia. You were the prettiest monkey he's ever seen and he need to somehow get your attention and interest. Though the but the straw broke the camals back rather quickly when he found a human male flirting with an uninterested look, ohhhhh to say Wukong saw red was the understatement of the new year. He was too mad to notice another girl's flirting and walked off without a word, following the guy who split from you. The guy stood no chance as Wukong crushed him under his heel ending his life once and for all, then came another shocking twist. Wukong found that you were following around to and killed the girl who was flirting with him. Life is sweet.....and kinda bloody.
(BMW Wukong) He gets whatever he wants, whenever he wants and what he wants now is you. Wukong stalks you like he's the predator and your the prey wanting you so bad and doing whatever he has to just to get you to look his way. That's why when he finds out that another man has been messing with and flirting with the woman who he owns, and the guy planned cold hard revenge against him. He tortured the guy painfully and slowly before he died and went to bury the body, that's was when he found you burying the body of a demon lady Who thought she stood a chance with Wukong. Let's just say you celebrated your union by making it a blood moon to remember.
(Destined one) Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh crap you don't want the Destined one stalking you or else It won't be just you that goes missing. The Destined one is the reining king of stalking due to his quiet personality and ability to blend into the background, you wouldn't even know he there that was until he saw a man. A man flirting with you like he's worthy of you and your time so the Destined one strikes the fear of God into that guy's soul as the Destined one Tortured him to death. Then he heard screaming and saw the dead body of a young girl who offered D.O cookies and bury her dead body. The Destined one gave you a look of shock and love, and you both soon began to go Stedy.
FEEL FREE TO REBLOG😈
#monkey king reborn#monkey king x reader#monkey king netflix#nezha reborn#lmk monkey king#monkey king hero is back#x female y/n#black myth wukong#the destined one x reader#yandere x yandere#yandere reader#Yandere
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❀·°∗✧🌸✧∗°·❀
Sativa
The Series. Part: 1 |
☥| a/n: It’s starting guyssss, for those who are wondering if i will be finishing plugged, i will, when i get inspiration for the next chapter, but this idea has been clouding my mindddd. Also there will be a key at the end for those who don’t understand weed terms lmao ;). @sultrydolli @sevyscoven @koipuddle MEN AND MINORS DNI
☥| content: drug dealer!ellie x reader, loser!ellie, mean!ellie, weed, college au, shy/innocent reader, peer pressure, cursing. lmk if i missed anything yall.
“If you want some good shit, check Ellie.”
The words looped in your head, over and over, like a mantra you didn’t want to believe. You’d never smoked weed before, but a lost bet meant you had to “break out of your shell.” The idea of it felt ridiculous, but here you were, psyching yourself up to approach her.
Ellie had been in your class for two months, maybe longer, but you’d never paid her any real attention. She sat in the back, hood up, earbuds in, half-hidden in her own world. You always wondered if she could even hear the lectures. But somehow, she still managed to be second in class; right behind you.
The thought of her being that sharp sent a prickle down your spine as you risked a glance her way.
The bell rang, jolting you out of your thoughts. Ellie was already packing up, her movements slow, like she wasn’t in a rush for anything. You scrambled to shove your things into your bag, but by the time you looked up again, she was already out the door.
You chased after her, but the pounding in your chest wasn’t just from the effort, it was nerves. Your footsteps slowed, hesitating, and you followed her at a distance like some awkward ghost.
Ellie turned a corner and slipped into the old bathroom no one used anymore. The one everyone said was haunted. A chill ran up your spine, stupid thoughts creeping in. Was she the ghost haunting it?
You shook your head, trying to snap out of it. Don’t be dumb.
You pushed the door open cautiously, immediately hit by the thick, pungent scent of weed. Smoke clouded your vision, making your throat burn as you coughed.
“The fuck…?” a voice drawled.
Ellie was on the floor with three others, a blunt pinched between her fingers. All four pairs of eyes locked on you, their expressions ranging from surprised to amused. You felt every ounce of your awkwardness sink into your chest like lead.
“Uh… Ellie? Can I talk to you?” you stammered, your voice barely louder than a whisper.
One of the guys nudged Ellie’s shoulder, grinning like he was in on some joke. She sighed, rolling her eyes before standing and flicking the blunt away. Her movements were lazy, almost bored, but the way her gaze landed on you made your stomach flip.
“What’s a girl like you doing here?” Her voice was low, teasing, and laced with mockery.
Your frown started to form, the urge to defend yourself rising, but one look at the sharpness in her eyes shut you down.
“I… I got dared to smoke. And they told me you had the best stuff,” you blurted, trying to keep your voice steady. You even threw on what you thought was your “tough” voice, but it fell flat under her amused stare.
Ellie’s laughter cut through the silence, loud and unrestrained. Her friends joined in, their chuckles stinging more than you cared to admit.
Heat flushed your face, and the embarrassment made you want to crawl out of your skin. You wanted to turn around, walk out, and pretend this never happened.
But then Ellie stepped closer, smirking down at you. “Alright, sweetheart. Let’s see if you can handle it.”
She grabs your hand and yanks you into one of the stalls, the door slamming shut behind you. From outside, one of Ellie’s friends lets out a sharp whistle, followed by a round of obnoxious clapping.
Ellie rolls her eyes, her voice lazy and drawn out. “Relax, guys. Goodie two-shoes aren’t my type.” Her words are slow, slurred, she’s definitely high.
And yet, they sting. Her dismissal settles like a weight in your chest, but before you can dwell on it, she’s already in motion.
She pushes you down onto the closed toilet seat and stands over you, close enough to feel the heat of her presence. A hand appears under the stall, clutching a small blunt. Ellie snatches it up, fishing a lighter from her pocket with practiced ease.
Your hands tremble slightly as she lights it. For a moment, you think she’s going to pass it to you. But no. She takes a deep, slow drag, her eyes narrowing as she holds the smoke. Then, without warning, she grabs your face.
“Open,” she commands.
You blink, confused, until she adds, “Your mouth.”
Hesitant, you do as she says. She sighs, annoyed, exhaling the smoke she’d been holding. It slips out between her lips, wasted. She takes another drag, leaning in closer this time.
Your heart stutters, thinking she’s about to kiss you. But instead, she exhales directly into your mouth, her breath thick and heavy with smoke. She pulls back and gestures for you to close your mouth and inhale.
You try, you really do, but it catches in your throat. The result is a violent coughing fit that sends Ellie into a fit of laughter.
“Cute,” she mutters under her breath, her voice low and teasing.
You’re already lightheaded. The stale, heavy air in the bathroom is thick with smoke, the whole space a makeshift hotbox. Your head feels cloudy, your limbs loose.
“Here,” Ellie says, her tone softer now. She explains how to inhale, demonstrating again. This time, when she leans in and blows the smoke into your mouth, you get it right.
It hits fast. Your brain buzzes, your body hums. You look up at her, and before you can stop yourself, you smile.
Ellie smirks, her eyes flickering with something you can’t quite place. “Not bad,” she murmurs.
Ellie doesn't stop. Every drag she takes, she's blowing it into your mouth, and you're inhaling it like it's the only thing keeping you alive, even though your head is spinning, and your chest feels heavy. But it's her; you can't stop. Her lips so close, the heat of her breath, the way she watches you like she owns you.
You're barely holding it together, blinking slow, lips parted, breath shaky. "You good?" she mutters, low, almost teasing, as she pulls you to your feet. Your legs give out, and you stumble straight into her, your forehead against her shoulder, her hands gripping your arms to steady you.
That's when you notice the quiet. Her friends are gone. It's just you and her, and she's holding you there, grounding you, even as your body feels like it's slipping away.
You nod, maybe too fast, too shaky-and push off her, your body betraying you as you shove past and out of the bathroom. The hallway tilts, or maybe it doesn't. You're swaying but not moving, weightless and heavy at the same time. Your palms are damp, but your skin tingles like electricity's running through it.
When you finally collapse onto your bed, it's like the world won't stop spinning, and you don't want it to. It's good, so good, and every thought crashes back to her. The way she leaned in, her lips so close it hurt, the smoke curling into your mouth like a promise.
You walk down to the dorms, and when you finally collapse onto your bed, it's like the world won't stop spinning, and you don't want it to. It's good, so good, and every thought crashes back to her. The way she leaned in, her lips so close it hurt, the smoke curling into your mouth like a promise.
Your thighs clench on instinct, heat pooling low, spreading through you.
You bite your lip, the sound escaping before you can stop it.
"F-fuck."
You'd never done it before.
Masturbating wasn't something you thought about. Sure, you'd been turned on, watched some porn, kissed a boy once, but touching yourself?
Never. It always felt unnecessary. Until now.
The throbbing between your legs feels like it's everywhere, spreading through your whole body, hot and consuming. Even the press of the bed against your back feels too good, and your panties-god, they're pressing against your clit just right, the pressure making your hips twitch.
You don't even realize you're panting, shallow and desperate, until the door swings open. Your roommate, Nelly, struts in like it's nothing. "So, how'd it go?" she asks, but she stops mid-step, taking one look at you. Her lips twitch like she's trying to hold back, but then she bursts out laughing, loud and shameless.
Her laugh snaps you out of it, and somehow, you're laughing too, your cheeks burning. "Ellie's got you so fucked, bitch," she wheezes, doubling over, tears in her eyes.
"Please-just shut u-up," you stammer, your voice cracking horribly, which only makes her laugh harder.
You bury your face in your hands, but you're grinning, too, heat flooding every inch of you.
The rest of the night is a blur; heat, laughter, and Ellie's name playing on repeat in your head.
—————————————————————————
this is my original post, please don’t repost, translate, or plagiarize my work ;)
©️avonnimimi 2024
#lesbian#18+ mdni#gxg#wlw mood#wlw blog#wlw post#wlw#wlw yearning#wlw concepts#wlw nsft#ellie x you#ellie x fem reader#ellie willams x reader#ellie x reader#ellie smut#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie williams#girls who smoke weed#drug dealer#college au#wlw smut#gxg smut#smutty
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NO ORDINARY GIRL | lottie matthews
— pairing: mermaid!lottie matthews x gn!reader
— summary: a collection of stories involving your relationships with the mermaid!yellowjackets, starting with how you meet lottie.
— wordcount: 2,260
The moment you finished unpacking your bags, you headed to your favorite place whenever you're here on holiday: the beachside. It's wonderful there, almost a vacation home in itself. Your parents always reprimanded you for neglecting to spend time with your grandparents since this was their home, but you couldn't care less. Maybe they shouldn't have chosen such a cool spot to vacation. And besides, you were on vacation! You should be spending time at the beach and not at home.
The room that you stay in is filled with seashells and rocks you've collected over the years.
Coming here is all you really look forward to when summer rolls around. You collect things in your hometown, but the nearest beach is miles away, and even though you're an avid collector, you're also lazy. Seashells are your favorite. You love touching them, and you love how each of them is unique to one another. They're never the same. Like snowflakes.
It's an odd day, mainly because there's barely anyone out on the beach with you. Usually, it's packed with tourists and townspeople alike. But today there's just you, the new ice cream man whose name you learned is Chris (the one you remember from your childhood died a few months back. Poor guy. He used to give you freebies on your birthday), the old lady who likes to feed the seagulls, and this weird girl whose head you can see peeking from behind a rock. You've been watching her for a few minutes and wondering if she's alright. She looks alright, I mean, what you can see of her, at least. You thought she was drowning at first because of how long she's been in the water, but she's not calling out for help or thrashing around. Then you realize how dumb you sound. Of course she would be in the water, you're at a beach! You shake your head and scoff in embarrassment, getting up from the bench and thinking you could find more shells by the water's edge. Which just happens to be near where the girl is.
Maybe she's a collector like you? You could do with a friend here you think. You could impress her with your vast collection of shells and rocks. Your lips twist into a smile as you walk closer to the grey boulder where the girl hides behind, thinking about how you're going to introduce yourself later. For now, you need those damn seashells. You've only scored a few of them so far and it's the worst collecting day ever. None are even spilling out of your pockets like they usually are.
When you pass the boulder, you're only able to see the girl's face, which is just as pretty as you thought it would be, and her fiddling around with seashells and other beach junk. She doesn't seem to notice you as she smiles to herself and places her things in a neat line that's color-coded. She's cute, you think. Now you have to work 10x harder to come up with an introduction.
You turn back hopefully, half expecting her to be looking right back at you. But you don't see that. All you see are the waves crashing against the rock and a half-hidden scaly purple tail where her feet should be. You stop in your tracks immediately, leaning forward ever so slightly to get a good look at what you think is your imagination playing tricks on you. Blinking furiously, you brush at your eyes just to make sure, but no, what you see is genuinely real. The girl's tail flaps happily as she hums to herself and messes with her beach junk.
"What the fuck?" you murmur to yourself, definitely a little too loudly.
The girl gasps, her tail slapping the water and nearly splashing you as she scoots herself back. She looks at you, frightened and in shock before she dashes away. She's a blurred streak of white and blue as you watch her swim back into the ocean. You try to call out for her, running into the shallow water to see if she's still out here but there's nothing. Did you just witness a real mermaid?! You're frozen in utter surprise, and you only get a hold of yourself and move back to shore when your feet start tingling from the cold. As you walk back, you notice that she left behind her things, and you bend down to look at them.
Holy shit... she had a pearl?! You've been looking for one of these for goddamn years. Do you take it? No, you'd feel bad. But maybe... You glance up sheepishly before slowly slipping it into your grasp and then into your pocket. You're sure she has plenty of pearls. The rest of the stuff is just beach junk minus some shells you already have, but you decide to take all of it back home. Maybe you could return tomorrow and catch her again?
Yeah, that sounds like a plan.
No one says anything about the amount of junk in your hands when you arrive home, and you plop it down by your bed before faceplanting into the pillows that smell like your grandma's perfume. It's not even 6 pm yet and you're tired. You feel like getting some rest... At least sleeping meant you'd be seeing that mermaid girl faster.
When you wake up, you feel something swirling around in your stomach. Something that feels like you're anxiously waiting on something but you can't remember what. The longer you lie in bed, drifting between sleep and consciousness, the feeling gets stronger. You decide to get up and rub your eyes and stretch, washing away the sleep from your body. The smell of breakfast downstairs fills your nostrils and you sit up, tossing your blanket off before planting your feet on the floor.
"Ow, shit!" Something sharp poked your foot. You look down to see the beach junk you brought home yesterday and realize why you felt that strange sensation in your stomach earlier. Okay, maybe you're a little excited to go to the beach today. You really hope the mermaid is there. You'll have to be extra careful if she is since you don't want to scare her off again.
After you scarf down your breakfast and take a shower, you stuff the mermaid's things into a mesh bag and scour through your grandparents' garage to find that old scuba diving gear you know they still have. You've thought it over: if she isn't there, you think you know where she hides out. There's this small island not far from the beach that's perfect for a mermaid to live. You've never been to it, but you've passed by it dozens of times while boating with your dad and grandpa. You hope you're right, but if not, a nice trip to a cave would be nice either way. There are probably more things to collect in there that you've never even thought of.
The trip to the beach feels like the longest walk of your life.
You keep dropping the equipment and some guy tried to buy it off you which took up entirely way too much time of your life.
But you made it. Finally. You walk around a bit to look for her but she's not behind the rock or anywhere in sight. Scuba diving it is. As you finish putting everything on, you feel a little discouraged by the small dot the island makes in the distance, thinking that you might've overestimated your swimming abilities. Whatever. You grab the bag with a small pout and flip-flop into the water, hoping all of this will be worth it.
Turns out this scuba diving stuff is pretty exhausting. You've had to rest your arms and legs by drifting in the water for a few minutes before resuming. And you've been jumpscared by this dolphin a few times. You nearly shit yourself when you saw it first, assuming it was a shark, but it didn't try to attack you or anything. You don't know why it keeps coming back to fuck with you, but it almost looks like it leaves to go tell a friend about it. Fucker.
When you reach the island, you decide to take a 15 minute break for your body's sake. There's a lot more walking ahead and you know you'll thank yourself later.
After you get up and start walking around, observing the trees and nature all around you, you suddenly spot it. The cave. There's no way she isn't in there. You march your way through cobwebs and branches just to reach it but once inside, you're glad for those cuts on your arms and face because goddamn is it beautiful. The water is a cerulean blue and shines brightly in the sun due to the open hole at the top of the cave. You feel a sense of calmness wash over you just from looking at it. The rocky walls of the cave seem almost alive just as you are as the reflection of the water cast shadows upon them. And speaking of the walls, they seem to have markings on them. You walk closer, squinting your eyes to make out what you think are the words S + J. Hm. Maybe this cave is a popular spot for couples?
The more you look around, the more the cave looks lived in. There is some beach junk similar to what you found the girl playing with yesterday placed neatly in a pile in front of a rock. It has a name carved on it.
"Lottie?" you whisper to yourself. Is that the mermaid's name?
"Don't touch it!" Someone hisses.
You let out a choked gasp and turn around, eyes darting all over the cave before you see her. She's in the water with only her eyes above surface level almost like she's hiding from you. They almost seem fully black because of how big and wide they are. You quickly get up and the girl flinches in response. You assume she's going to retreat so you speak up before she can swim away again.
"Wait, I brought you your stuff back." You hold out the bag for her to see and shake it like a human would shake a bag of dog treats to get their dog's attention. "You left it yesterday..."
Slowly, you inch forward and softly place the bag before her. You scoot back to give her some room and wait.
The mermaid eyes you curiously and with some skepticism, but swims forward to swipe the bag from the surface. You watch as she opens the zipper quickly and shuffles through the items with a smile on her face. She looks back up at you when you shift on your feet and pauses before frowning. "Where's the pearl?"
Shit.
You left it at home for yourself.
"Uh, there was no pearl when I found it." you lie, giving her your best confused look. "Must've washed away or something."
She frowns once more and places the bag back on the sandy surface. "Thank you. I like collecting this type of junk. The others say I'm weird for spending so much time by the shore, but I like studying humans."
The others? Studying humans?
"You're welcome. You're Lottie, right? That's your rock?" you nod towards her 'junk' rock.
She confirms with a nod and reveals more of her body as she swims up and places her elbows on the rocks. The bra? Scales? Covering her chest is a magnificent shade of different kinds of purple. Her tail that flutters gently in the water matches it.
"I didn't mean to scare you yesterday," you mention, sitting down in the sand and running your fingers through the grains. "You kinda scared me as well. I've never seen a mermaid before."
"I've never seen a human so up close either. I usually just observe from afar." Lottie replies and puts her chin under her palms. "Why'd you bring my stuff back?"
"Dunno." you shrug. "You collect stuff like me. Thought maybe you'd appreciate it or something..." You trail off at the end, looking down and blushing. "Plus, I thought you were pretty."
Her tail splashes against the water hard at your comment and she clears her throat, feeling embarrassed. "What do you collect?" She's curious, she'll admit it. She's not even supposed to be interacting with humans under any circumstances, but you intrigue her. You don't seem like a threat anyhow.
"Anything. Shells, rocks, fossils, random things I find off the street. I have a whole collection of receipts from when I go out to eat."
"Can you...show me your collection?" she murmurs shyly, removing her face from her palms and nervously tapping her nails against the rocks.
"Sure, but how? I don't think I can make it here again, no offense. It's a hell of a swim." you chuckle, smiling at how her eyes shine brightly after you agree.
"I can help with that. I can bring you back to the beach in seconds!" she exclaims, her voice high and excited. "Or you can piggyback on one of my dolphins."
You barely have time to process what she just said before she speaks again.
"Can you show me right now? Please?"
You feel like everything's happening all at once and don't know how to reply, so you simply nod.
Hey, maybe you can even bring her back the pearl you stole from her. She'd probably like you even more.
lottie taglist: @heliolottie
#dearlot fics#mermaid yellowjackets#yellowjackets fics#lottie matthews x reader#lottie matthews x yn#lottie matthews x you#yellowjackets x you#yellowjackets x reader#mermaid lottie
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