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parfaitblogs · 1 day ago
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hard times ❀ s. reid x reader
in which spencer reid doesn’t follow through one time, and you really hate that he has a psychology degree.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: daddy issues. shoutout to the girls with inconsistent fathers this ones for you. established relationship. readers mentioned wearing makeup, a dress and heels. rational bf!spencer reid fuck i would hate a profiler bf. word count: 1.8k a/n: not a trauma dump fic not a vent fic do not read into this fic at all don't even start to speculate on my life and where these emotions came from they're all fake made up not real make pretend. no photos no aesthetics just me, a tumblr account, and a dream for this baddie.
In all your months of dating Spencer Reid, he had never forgotten anything. Not a date, not a work event. Or, at least, he's never forgotten to call. Even when you had been so busy one week you could barely spare him more than a ten minute phone call a day, he remembered what was going on in your life enough to be there for you. 
A false blanket of security draped over your relationship, is what it is now. 
A blanket he seemingly had no trouble ripping off you a random Friday evening, throwing it in a fire and watching it — and your trust in him — burn into dust. 
Perhaps a tad dramatic for what was happening, but you were always one for theatrics when it came to your emotions. Usually, he welcomed it. He was (abashedly) similar, after all.
Not that he was even here to welcome it. 
You'd looked pretty. You'd felt pretty. Past tense, for your shoes were strewn somewhere across the floor after throwing them in frustration, and your makeup was ruined after unwelcome tears had streamed down your face an hour ago. You had been ready for a dinner date you and Spencer had scheduled in only three days ago — penciled in, for you never knew what his work schedule was going to end up being.
You're not sure how long you sat in that one spot on the couch, mind going through every single possible scenario that could've happened between the text he sent you that morning saying he was excited to go out tonight, and the lack of his appearance this evening. 
The logical conclusion is that he got too busy, and he forgot. But Spencer Reid's whole thing is that he doesn't forget. Oftentimes he considers it a curse. You never really agreed with him. Until now, it seemed. 
The less than logical, emotionally driven conclusion, is that he actively chose to stay at work to avoid coming home because he didn't want to see you. Or he didn't actually want to go to dinner, and he didn't know how to tell you. Or his team offered to go out and he'd rather hang out with them instead of you. 
Really, the reasons are endless, and any rational conclusion was lost on you. Mind swallowing you whole as you continued to stare off into space, visibly shaking and head beginning to pound from the crying.
A glance at the clock told you it was near midnight by the time you heard the door handle rattle and twist open, tired, puffy eyes blinking to adjust to the light filtering in from the apartment hallway. 
"Hey. Why're you out here? It's late. I thought you'd already be in bed," Spencer rambles absentmindedly, voice so disconnected from you it only made the ache in your chest worse. As he flicks the light on and assesses the state of the apartment, he asks, "What're your shoes doing on the floor?"
You blink a few times. Was he pretending to be dumb on purpose? 
You stand on cramped legs, stretching them for the first time since you'd sat unknowingly on the couch nearly six hours ago, dress bunching around your waist. You didn't bother to fix it. 
Like a switch, he clicks, his bag sliding off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a thud, realisation settling into his features. 
"Our date. Oh, God, I'm so sorry, angel."
"Yeah. I'm sure," you croak, voice hoarse as you pick up your shoes pathetically in front of him, the heels clacking together as you walk towards your bedroom door. 
He calls your name, and after you make no effort to return to him, you hear his feet against the wooden flooring, carrying himself to you.
You're in the ensuite, beginning to take makeup off you probably should've removed four hours ago. It was stupid hope you held on to, anyways. 
"You're upset. I know. It was awful of me to forget our date," he stands in the doorway, staring at you through the mirror. Even indirectly, you can't make eye contact with him. 
"You forgot," you repeat back to him, almost dumbfounded. "You forgot?"
"Forgot isn't... the best word," his fingers dig into his eyes for a split second, and you watch him think. "I got caught up at work. We had a case, then we didn't have a case, then we did, so we started looking into it, and time just... escaped. From all of us."
"Time just escaped."
Your parroting wasn't doing much to further the conversation, and you watch as Spencer averts his gaze to the floor to take a deep breath, before his eyes land back on you again.
"It isn't the best reason, I know. But it's the truth," he says. 
"Uh-huh," you mumble, discarding your cotton pads stained with your makeup into the trash. 
"Can you stop being evasive?" he catches your wrist before you can return to the sink. "Talk to me."
"What do you want me to say?" you ask, almost earnestly. "It's okay that you forgot, Spencer. I won't take it personally at all, and things between us are just dandy!"
"I want to know what you're actually feeling," he replies, voice flat with his irritation, before he forces himself to soften it. "I can't reassure you if all I know is that you're angry."
"Hurt. Forgotten. Disregarded. Disliked. Irritated we're doing this in our fucking bathroom."
At that, he leads you into the bedroom, turning the ensuite light off. "Forgotten and disregarded are synonyms, so I'm assuming that's what you feel the most."
"You're the psyche expert," you mumble, bitterly.
"I'm not trying to be your psyche expert," he quips, and your heart sinks. "Why're you feeling forgotten?"
You stare at him, dumbfounded, for a beat. "Because my boyfriend quite literally forgot about me?"
"I didn't forget about you—"
"—No, you're right. You just forgot about the date that you literally fucking texted me about this morning!" you snap, voice rising in a way that makes you cringe. Yet, you can't stop it. "You! Spencer Reid! Forgot!"
"Don't yell at me, please," he takes a step towards you; you take a step back. 
"Why did you forget? Did you choose to? Are you pretending that you forgot about it all to save your ass?"
"No," he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I didn't. I told you what happened. You're choosing not to believe me."
"How am I meant to believe that? It's a shit excuse—"
"—It's the truth—"
"—God, you can lie, Spencer! Men lie!" 
He goes silent, as do you. You become trapped in an uncomfortably intense staring contest with him, as you watch his brain slowly tick over and decipher what you were saying, and come up with a response. Yours, however, splits open with your own self hatred. Disdain for what you had just said to him.
"Okay," he exhales, very slowly. "I'm going to tell you what I think, and you can tell me how right I am."
"You're going to profile me?"
He pauses. "I'm sure it'll come off that way. I'm not trying to," when you don't protest again, he continues. "I think you're less upset about the fact that I didn't come home for a date, and more about the fact that I didn't message you about it. I've not shown up for dates before. I've always contacted you prior to let you know. And I've promised I would always contact you if something came up that interfered with our plans. Ultimately, I said I would do something, and I didn't follow through. That is on me, and I'm sorry. What isn't on me, is how you're reacting. Which is childish, honey. You're acting like a petulant child, and I don't mean that as an insult, because I'm almost certain I know why."
Your silence is his cue to continue, but he pauses to collect his thoughts. Your lower lip is beginning to wobble, and he feels awful.
"You know how our childhoods affect us," he says, and the second what he's about to say to you clicks in your brain, your teeth clamp over your lip, and your eyes drop to the ground. "Reactions from parents to things we do, things others do, things they do, all builds up in our subconscious. Having a parent who didn't show up for you time and time again, built up in your subconscious. So yes, you're reacting to me not following through with something childishly. I will not take that back. But that reaction is not your fault. It's in response to a trigger, and the person in control of that emotional response is not adult you. It's the little girl who got let down by her father. I won't ever hold that against you."
Your sniffle breaks the deafening silence that follows his tangent. You allow him to envelop you into a hug, at which you break down into a fit of sobs akin to the ones from earlier. 
"I hate you," you stutter out in between sobs, voice muffled by his chest. 
"You can't say that while hugging me," he counters. It was true, as your hands had wrapped around his waist just seconds ago.
"I hate you," you repeat, punctuating your words with a poke to his back. 
"I love you," he replies, instead. His fingers thread through your hair as he cradles your head with his other hand. "I'm sorry I didn't contact you about being busy."
You swallow the lodged sob in your throat with a hiccup. "I'm sorry I acted like a petulant child. And I'm sorry that my dad sucks."
"I'm sorry your dad sucks too," you feel him kiss the top of your head. "Have you eaten?"
"Mm-mm," you shake your head, and he pulls back, hands slipping down to your cheeks, catching the tears. 
"Do you want to eat?"
"The restaurant we were going to is closed," you mumble.
"Maybe. But the Thai place isn't."
"I'm pretty sure it is," you counter, and his eyebrows furrow. "It's past midnight now."
His face falls, he waits a beat, before his hand drops to your own, and he's tugging you towards the door of the bedroom. "Okay. Fine. Well, the Spencer Reid Kitchen is never closed."
"I asked for pasta last night and you said the kitchen was closed."
"You asked at three in the morning," he deadpans, as you make yourself comfortable on one of the stools. 
"The Spencer Reid Kitchen is never closed," you mock his voice from earlier.
"The Spencer Reid Kitchen rules are made by Spencer Reid."
"The rules should be lenient of Spencer Reid's girlfriend."
"Do you want pasta or not?"
"Yes," you quickly say with a firm nod. "Sorry."
He spends the first hour of that Saturday making you pasta; and making up the missed date.
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
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hannieehaee · 2 days ago
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TRAINING SEASON
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18+ / mdi
summary: unfortunately for vernon, all his friends were gym bros, leading to constant harassment for him to join the lifestyle. after weeks of twelve men constantly bugging at him to accompany them, all it takes is one girl for vernon to finally give in.
content: strangers2friends2lovers!vernon, fitness!reader, vernon's kind of a loser here, reader is friends with the other 12, vernon's not into fitness, downbad!vernon, reader is implied to be into fitness but her body's not really described in any specific way, afab reader, smut, semi-public sex, handjob, kind of sub!vernon, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 9.3k
a/n: not really sure why i keep writing vernon like a loser with no game lol im sure in real life he's got a ton of game lets just pretend he doesnt<3
masterlist
"C'mon, Nonnie. Come with us. Just this once."
"You don't even have to work out, we just want-"
"No, if I have to work out, he has to work out. You guys have been dragging me with you to engage in your masochist tendencies for weeks. He deserves the same treatment."
Vernon simply groaned at all the noise, uncaring of what Seungkwan, Mingyu and Jeonghan were saying, respectively. Instead, he opted to cover his face with a pillow, attempting to muffle all the noise his friends were making so early in the morning.
Then suddenly, the comfort of his blanket left him, followed by his pillow being pulled from his hold and used to deliver a swift smack against his head before being whisked away and landing on the opposite side of the room.
One more, he groaned, but this time louder. His eyes opened to find the culprit standing above him, squinting due to the sudden surge of sunlight into his vision at having opened his eyes.
"Dude, stop being a lazy piece of shit and come with us," nagged Joshua.
God, how many of them were in his apartment? It was supposed to be just him and Seungkwan who lived here, where did the rest come from?
"What time is it?" he finally grumbled out, sitting up. It's not like he had any options anyway.
"It's 9:16 in the morning," informed him Wonwoo from outside his bedroom. God, was he here too?
"Why are all of you in my apartment? Seungkwan, we agreed that-"
"We all have keys, you idiot. Now get up. We're going to the gym," this time it was Chan.
"Do all twelve of you go to the same gym at the same time? God, they must hate you."
Vernon finally sat up against his headboard, head counting a total of five of his friends currently in his room, assuming the rest to be either in his kitchen or living room.
God damn you, Boo Seungkwan.
"We're pretty well liked, actually."
A few of the members nodded along to Mingyu's rebuttal.
Yeah, that made sense. Twelve muscly and more than objectively attractive men were likely magnets for clientele over at the gym.
All the more reason to not join them.
All his friends were fitness addicts (sans Jeonghan, maybe). Simply gym bros who had developed what Vernon liked to call an unhealthy habit to exercise — despite how ironic that statement sounded. Vernon, on the other hand, had never been one to put too much emphasis on fitness. He liked his build as it was; some slightly toned muscle and a slim frame. He never really saw any need to bulk up like most of his friends, so he never gained an interest for it.
Yet his friends had tried to convince him to join them, time and time again.
Jeonghan had been the one other friend they had to convince to join them. Other than Vernon, Jeonghan was the only other member of their large friend group who had a proclivity against the gym. But his love for spending time with his friends had won him over, making him tag along just for the mere purpose of not feeling FOMO.
Now, Vernon did not have that issue. He didn't mind missing out on hang outs. He was a pretty lowkey, chill guy. Staying at home unless it was vital for him to leave, now that was more up his alley.
Except now he had twelve men nagging at him to get up, put on some basketball shorts and a flimsy tank top and join them at their gym. It had been a few weeks of this insistence, leading to this moment — all his friends breaking into his and Seungkwan's apartment in order to drag him out.
And the sad thing was that it worked. Apparently it took twenty-three consecutive days of bugging at Vernon to convince him of doing something he didn't want to do for him to budge. He hoped this didn't become some sort of pattern.
~
Vernon felt out of place.
All his friends had arrived in extremely casual fashion, immediately comfortable in the familiar environment and dispersing themselves in their respective smaller groups.
Meanwhile, even after half an hour of being there, Vernon felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb.
The agreement they'd settled on was that Vernon would try out the gym. If he didn't like it, — more like, if he truly despised it, in Seungcheol's words — they all agreed to leave him alone (other than Jeonghan, who insisted he'd move into his closet and haunt him until he came back).
So, really all Vernon had to do was hang out for an hour or two and then let his friends down easy.
It should've been easy enough considering how out of place he felt surrounded by other unfamiliar gym bros in their natural habitat.
"Dude, at least try not to look like you have no idea what a gym is."
His thoughts were interrupted by Mingyu who suddenly materialized next to him.
"Huh?"
"You've been standing here staring into the distance for five minutes. Here, just follow me. I just finished my cardio You can do arms with me and Seok today."
The statement felt like a threat. Looking at Mingyu, at his muscles, was enough to tire Vernon out. Was he supposed to keep up with that?
Still, Vernon shrugged to himself and followed after Mingyu. Something which he regretted soon after realizing it'd take an entire flight of stairs to get to what he presumed to be the area of the gym where they usually did arms. There, he found Seokmin and Chan, seemingly already in the middle of some set of some workout while Jeonghan sat on a bench press with a coffee in hand.
"You're actually gonna work out? I thought you'd just go to the spa room," commented Jeonghan upon spotting him approaching.
"There's a spa here? Sick."
"And you can use it after a few sets with me. Follow me, let's go figure out how much you can lift," once again, Vernon began to trail after Mingyu towards the stack of dumbbells on a mirrored wall nearby.
"Oh, Y/N was looking for you earlier, by the way," Seokmin stopped Mingyu before he could walk away.
"Y/N? What for?"
"Your bet, you idiot. She said she can bench press 80 pounds now. You owe her $50," interjected Chan, setting down the two dumbbells he'd been holding.
"Nah, no way," Mingyu crossed his arms, "Where's she at?"
"Are we going to get the weights or-"
"Hold on, 'Sol," Gyu interrupted him, "I have something to settle."
"She just went to fill up her water. She should be back soon," added Seokmin.
"Who's Y/N?", Vernon asked.
"Wouldn't you like to know?", snickered Jeonghan.
"What does that even me-"
"Chan, just hand me those weights. Vernon should be able to lift those," Mingyu reached over to Chan, grabbing the dumbbells he'd been using with an ease that made it seem like they were weightless.
But this theory proved to be wrong the moment Mingyu attempted to hand them over to an unsuspecting Vernon. Embarrassingly enough, the most predictable thing happened.
But what was most embarrassing was the timing. Suddenly the main character of the conversation showed up, just as Vernon's hands failed to hold onto the heavy weights, dropping them at his feet and barely missing a hospital visit by a few inches. His hands had stupidly attempted to catch them mid flight, but it only resulted in him almost falling over, body now bent down as he caught himself before falling.
That's when he saw an unfamiliar pair of converse standing in front of him.
"Hey- oh, shit!" were the first words he heard from you just as he created the biggest clanking sound resonating through the entire floor.
Looking up with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment on his face, he found you standing right in front of him. Like his own, your expression showed surprise, though he also found amusement in it. In any other situation, he may have laughed along with you (and the rest of his friends who he heard cackling from behind him), but this instance was different.
Because Vernon hadn't expected for a girl his friends had merely mentioned in passing to look like you. Makeup-less and in some worn band shirt with some tiny spandex underneath, you had Vernon's mouth catching flies.
Vernon didn't have a type. Was never one to care for appearances too much. But he suddenly found himself gulping at the sight in front of him. Your eyes stated down at him with some sort of wonder, and he felt a sickly feeling in him that told him he wanted them on him at all times from then on — even if it was due to something embarrassing he'd done.
An incredibly out of character thought for Vernon to have, but here he was.
Instead of picking up the dumbbells he'd stupidly dropped and introducing himself as he usually would've done, his brain malfunctioned along with his body. Losing balance as he straightened himself up, he stammered out what he believed to be a greeting (though he wasn't too sure; he was too distracted by you) while Mingyu offered him support to properly stand.
"Hi?", you responded, "Sorry, was that my fault?", you turned to the other members with slight concern.
A soft slapping sound resounded as Mingyu patted Vernon on the back, chuckling over at your concerned expression.
"Nah, you're fine. Vernon's hand-eye coordination just isn't that good."
"Dude, you handed me like a hundred pounds with no warning!", Vernon recoiled from his touch, attempting to save some of his dignity.
"That was just forty on each dumbbell actually," corrected Chan.
Vernon groaned internally.
Thank you, Chan. Make him look like even more of a wimp than he already did.
"Uh, anyways. Hi, I'm Vernon," he extended his hand out dumbly.
"Oh, you're Vernon?," your hand squeezed his own (a feeling which Vernon would have to get back to later), "I've been looking forward to meeting you," you smiled before letting go.
"Uh, what?"
He was really killing it today.
"What Hansolie here means to say is, it's nice to meet you too," Mingyu interjected, "Now, onto more important matters - I want evidence," he said in reference to the previous subject.
"Not even a 'hello'? Not even gonna let me get to know your friend?", you looked over at him with a grin that Vernon was too flustered to return.
Before he could even consider interjecting, Mingyu grabbed onto your wrist, pulling you over to the bench press Jeonghan had been sitting on to demonstrate the skill Seokmin had declared you'd been looking to show off to Mingyu. Jeonghan got up as soon as you approached, giving you a grin that told Vernon you were familiar with each other before walking over to where Vernon was standing. He seemed to always keep some distance between himself and any actual exercise. Respectable.
Without even needing to be asked, Seokmin and Chan stood nearby, ready to spot you in case it were necessary while Mingyu helped you load the weights onto the bar.
"So. She's cute, huh?", Jeonghan leaned over to Vernon's side, voice low to ensure the others didn't hear.
"Huh?"
"Y/N. She's really pretty, isn't she?"
"Dude, shut up."
The elder simply snickered, going back to slurping at the basically empty cup of iced coffee he'd been nursing this entire time.
Vernon continued watching you, spacing out from any commentary the other boys had been giving you as you began a set, instead solely focused on you.
As you laid on the bench, your shirt rode up, exposing the tiniest spandex shorts that dug into the muscle hidden under them. Your back arched in order to lift the weighted bar, giving him perfect sight of your silhouette despite the baggy shirt you had on.
God, your body was sculpted ridiculously. Your body was toned, which showed through perfectly from the position you were currently in. The sweat dampening your clothes didn't help matters either.
Vernon wasn't one to thirst on a random Tuesday afternoon, yet here he was, eyes glued to you as if he hadn't just met you. He might've felt more guilty, but both you and his friends were too distracted to notice him, so he let himself indulge this one time.
But then Jeonghan interrupted again.
"Are you sure you don't think she's pretty?", he snickered.
"Fuck, fine! Yes, she's obviously very pretty. What do you want?", he took his eyes away from you to face the manifestation of annoying standing next to him, a satisfied grin on his face.
"Nothing. I was just wondering," he shrugged, lying through his teeth.
Meanwhile, two of his other friends were cheering you on while Mingyu half-heartedly attempted at trash talking you into failing. Even as you carried what to Vernon was incomprehensible weight, you cursed out at Mingyu, something which Vernon appreciated.
Fuck. You were cool.
You were pretty, clearly very confident, strong, got along with his friends, and just incredibly cool. And Vernon had only known you for like ten minutes.
Was this a crush? Did he have a crush on a girl he'd just met?
He was 26. Crushes were so high school, what the hell was happening to him?
"Dude, are you blushing?"
"Han, I swear to god-"
"Oh my god, you are!", the way his eyes lit up at the realization was like it was christmas morning to him. Jeonghan had a strange fascination with mischief Vernon never really understood.
"Who's blushing?"
And suddenly there was another presence next to him, coming to a halt to watch you on what was now your second set of bench presses.
"Nonnie's in love," Jeonghan snickered.
"Shit, with who? Wait, don't tell me," Hoshi stopped for a second to ponder before shaking his head as he gave up, "Never mind. Tell me."
Vernon shook his head. He was friends with idiots.
"Y/N!"
"Dude, not so loud!", Vernon's eyes widened, face only going back to its natural poker face when he noticed you were still being entertained by his three loud friends.
"Dude, wait, that makes sense. They'd make the perfect couple," Hoshi gasped at the revelation., "They're both movie freaks and couch potatoes. But Y/N's way cooler than Vernon," he added.
Jeonghan nodded along in agreement.
You were into movies? You didn't give him the vibe of a couch potato, though. I mean, you were lying there, immense weight on your hands as you challenged the biggest gym buff he knew.
Vernon was about to question them on this assessment. They'd clearly thought about this before, which he wasn't sure whether it was good news for his newfound crush or not. But before he could at least complain at the slight thrown at him, he heard cheering from the spot where he'd been watching you, finally turning back to face you.
"Dude, three sets of eighty pounds with your frame? You're crazy. You might actually be stronger than Mingyu," Seokmin praised you as he offered up a high-five.
"I can do 200 pounds-"
"But you're a tree. It doesn't count," Chan disregarded him, instead choosing to join Seokmin in dapping you up.
Vernon hadn't noticed as he watched you, but Hoshi and Jeonghan had also joined in, leaving him alone in watching you from a small distance away. He went back to feeling kind of out of place.
But he liked seeing his friends with you. It was odd. He'd met many of his friends' friends, but he always felt entirely indifferent about them.
You were different. Vernon felt himself smiling as he watched you snatch the $50 from Mingyu's hand and turn to Hoshi and Jeonghan with a triumphant smile on your face.
And then you looked past them, spotting him and walking the few steps over to him.
"So, gonna congratulate me, new guy?"
He scoffed in amusement.
"I'm new?"
"Here? Clearly. I have seniority at this gym. Now, be a gentleman and congratulate me on robbing your friend of $50."
Vernon couldn't help but return your satisfied smile. You were fun.
"Congrats. Well deserved," he chose to say. He needed to remain nonchalant after his earlier embarrassment.
"Now, c'mon. I'm buying everyone something from the snack bar to celebrate Gyu's defeat," you turned back to head over to the guys, Vernon now following along.
"Fifty's probably not gonna be enough for six people-", someone spoke, Vernon wasn't sure who, too focused on walking by your side.
"It's fine. Gyu'll pay the difference," you shrugged.
"Hey!"
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Were you into him? Were you into Mingyu?
You'd been pretty friendly with all his friends that day, but it was impossible not to notice the special attention you paid to Mingyu. But then again, who didn't have a soft spot for Mingyu?
There was no indication you liked him, or that he'd even left some sort of impression on you. If anything, you probably remembered him as the idiot who almost took out both your and his foot. Or maybe as the dumbass who couldn't lift the measly forty-pound dumbbells Chan had been carrying with ease.
Meanwhile, you'd looked for Mingyu, looking far too happy to tease him and take his money.
Maybe Vernon was behind on the current dating world, but the two of you gave him more-than-friends vibes.
But then again, Mingyu held a flirtationship with literally everyone who came into his vicinity. Hell, he was pretty sure he'd at some point flirted with him without realizing it. Except this was an instance in which Vernon needed to be sure before he made a move. Not that he was too scared to do it or anything ...
Sadly for Vernon, he had been too much of a wuss to ask Mingyu about you directly, so he went for someone who he hoped wouldn't tease him.
"So, uhm, do you know Y/N?"
God, he sounded so needy. He was usually smoother than this. He had game. Right?
He'd decided that Joshua his safest bet. He was the only one out of all the guys who could maybe be normal about his curiosity about you.
Joshua could only chuckle at him. His eyes were too focused on scooping at the remnants of the fro-yo Vernon had bought him under the pretense of just hanging out. Casual.
"So you've met. You like her, huh?"
"Dude, what is this? Why does everyone keep asking me that? We've met once," Vernon frowned.
Was he that easy to read?
Joshua shrugged, "She seems like your type. She's single too."
"She is?"
"So you are interested," Joshua grinned.
He groaned. Did all his friends have to be such instigators? Men were the nosier gender, he was sure.
"Listen-"
"It's fine, 'Sol. I don't judge you. She's very pretty. Fun too."
"You talked to Jeonghan, didn't you?"
"Yeah. He told me you almost broke your foot in front of her and proceeded to fuck her with your eyes for like ten minutes straight. Not your finest moment."
Maybe Vernon's memory was failing him, but he was pretty sure those weren't the actual events that happened. Sure, he'd made the entire situation way more embarrassing in his head, but it hadn't been that bad. Right?
"I did not eye-fuck her," he rebutted, "I checked her out. I don't think she really noticed, though."
"Is that good? Wouldn't you rather just ask her out?"
"Uh, am I even her type?", Vernon scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as he reclined back on his chair, "She seemed to be kind of into Mingyu."
"Dude."
"Listen, it's just-"
"Mingyu just has that effect on people. They don't like each other. Not like that. They're just friends," clarified Joshua, "We all met when we started going to this gym last May. She just became closest to Gyu and Kyeom cause they practically live there."
"So they've never ..."
"No, man, I swear. You can ask Gyu. Or better yet, ask her out,."
"It's not that easy!", Vernon grumbled, hand crumbling the fro-yo container in his hand.
"Why not? You've never had trouble with girls. That's Channie. He's a mess," Josh chuckled.
There was just something about you. Vernon had never become this infatuated with someone. It was kind of embarrassing.
"She just ... She makes me nervous for some reason," Vernon admitted, "She's friends with all my best friends and I never even knew about her. She's funny and cool and confident, and-"
"And she's hot," finished Joshua for him.
"She's so fucking hot, man," Vernon groaned as Joshua chuckled.
"So, what, do you think she's out of your league or something?"
"Maybe? You tell me. I need an objective opinion," Vernon said with more seriousness than intended.
Joshua pretended to mull over it, hand scratching at chin as he started up to contemplate it up until Vernon groaned at him to stop.
"Dude, you're such an idiot. I'm not answering that. Just ask her out!"
All Joshua received in response was a muffled groan as Vernon let himself fall back on his chair. The dramatics felt necessary to him at that moment.
"So, are you going to keep going to the gym?", Joshua laughed at his friend.
"I'm a man on a mission."
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"Lost?"
"Fuck! Wh- Oh, shit, hi. Sorry, you scared me," Vernon's hand clutched at his chest in surprise, ears slightly red in embarrassment.
Did he really have to embarrass himself every time he saw you?
"Sorry I keep catching you off guard," you chuckled, "You just looked kind of lost. You've been staring into space for the past three minutes."
"Oh, uh, right. It's only my second time here. I'm not sure where all the guys went," he mumbled.
Now facing you, he tried to take quick note of your appearance. You'd come from the opposite direction as him, meaning you'd likely only gotten here just now. That explained the lack of sweat and your pristine hair, as opposed to last time. It made him wonder what you looked like on a regular basis, outside of the context of the gym.
"Right. Well, they usually go to the basketball court on Sundays, so most of them are probably there now. I hate playing sports with Han and Boo, so I usually just avoid them," you explained.
You seemed to have a great hold on his friends' gym lifestyle.
"We could go look for them," you began, "Or we could hang out on our own."
You smiled at him expectantly. It was a cute and innocent smile, as if you'd been hoping for an opportunity to get him alone.
"Do you, uh, do you mean in the gym?"
You nodded, "C'mon. I'm sure none of the guys actually showed you around, did they?", he shook his head, "Men suck. I'll give you a tour, y'know since you're new," you extended your hand out to him, eyes expectant.
With no time (nor dignity) to wipe his hand of any possible sweat, he grabbed onto your own, gulping at your hold.
This was moving faster than he thought. But then again, you probably just felt comfortable around him due to his association with the rest of your friends. It must be that.
Once you made it out of the general area of the gym, you let go of his hand, now opting for walking side by side instead. The place was quite spacious, so it gave more than enough room for the two of you to take your time walking without getting into anyone's ways. Not that Vernon wanted to extend his time with you as much as possible or anything.
"So, how come you've never been here before?", you suddenly asked whilst showing him what you'd donned as the 'poser gym buff' part of the gym. It looked like it, considering it was filled with shirtless muscular men, all ignoring the blatant 'No Nudity Allowed' sign you'd just walked by.
"Uh, before I answer that - How much did the guys tell you about me?"
You chuckled, "Just, stuff. I'd rather hear it from you, though."
Then you smiled at him again. As if you had no idea it messed with his brain chemistry.
"Just, uhm, not really a gym guy like the other guys. Not sporty, like at all. Always got hit by balls in P.E. Kwan drags me to street basketball matches sometimes, but I always end up embarrassing myself. Oh, and I can't really lift, as you probably noticed the other day," he found himself rambling. Very unusual of him.
"Hmm. Yeah, I can see why you don't come to the gym with the rest of them," you laughed, "But I think you should. You bring a nice balance to whatever's going on with the rest."
"Well, uh, I could be persuaded," he made his attempt at flirting, internally cursing at himself while also praying that it didn't fall flat and force him to never show his face in front of you again.
"Oh, really? I think I could help with that," your tone turned a little softer as you gave him a suggestive smile, "Wanna go check out the pool with me? It's usually empty this time of day."
"Oh, uh, yes! I- uh, yeah," he mumbled his way through, gulping when you took his hand again and led him out of the room.
That's when Vernon's mind started going a mile a minute, but instead of freaking out, he let himself be taken away by you.
~
So, maybe taking you up on your offer to use the pool hadn't been the best idea.
Everything was fine. Really. The pool area was pretty clean and the water felt nice. The temperature was just perfect, allowing for anyone who wanted a quick dip to enjoy themselves without risking frostbite like at the local community pool.
Only issue was you.
According to all prior experience, you had proven to be nothing but a health concern for Vernon since meeting you only a few days ago.
Despite the lukewarm water, Vernon was burning up.
Who thought it'd be a good idea to go to the pool, alone, with his crush as she paraded herself around in a sad excuse for a bikini? Was this even allowed? He was seeing too much skin. Which wasn't an issue for Vernon! He'd never call himself a prude, but ... In this one instance, he wished for some of puritanical rule to prevent him from having to see you swim laps in a bikini that left very little to his imagination.
Except, of course, the material in front of him did give him a lot of room for some very imaginative thoughts.
Vernon had no option but to dip his feet in the pool, sitting at the edge with a towel on his lap in order to cover what he was sure was a small chub growing under his trousers. Meanwhile, he watched you swim for a good ten minutes, dreading the moment you stopped and approached him again.
"Are you really not going to swim with me?", you called from afar, having reached the other side of the pool, "The water's so nice and there's no one here."
"Uhm, nope, I hate getting wet. I'll just watch you," he slapped himself mentally as soon as he said it.
"Well, I wanna get to know you," you told him as you exited the pool, killing Vernon with every step you took in his direction up until you sat next to him. Your legs were practically touching.
"Hi," you smiled at him.
There was an air of confidence you carried every time you spoke to him. He was half sure you were fully aware of his crush and were simply banking on it.
"Hi," he said back, unknowing of where to settle his eyes.
You likely caught onto this, giggling under your breath.
"Vernon."
"Yeah?", he looked to you. He deliberately avoided looking at any of your bare skin, staring directly into your eyes with widened eyes.
"You can look at me, you know. I want you to."
"Oh, uh, I- I didn't want to be rude or anyth- Wait, what?"
You giggled again, "You're funny. Are you this much of a mess with everyone else, or am I getting special treatment?"
"Special treatment for sure."
Again, you laughed. Good. At least he wasn't fucking this up.
"You know, the guys told me you were this ... very stoic and chill type of guy. I was wondering if I'd get to see that guy if I got you alone. But you're even worse without the guys around to hackle you," you accused jokingly.
"So you're doing this on purpose?"
He turned his body to face you more, allowing for your knees to actually knock together this time. The dampness of your skin graced his leg, but it was your bare touch that made him shiver. Still, he felt like less of a loser now. He had somewhat of a handle on the conversation this time around.
"Depending what you mean by 'this.'"
"The bikini? Getting me alone? Sitting this close to me knowing I have to override my brain in order to not look anywhere past your eyes?"
Okay, he was flirting now, apparently. Unexpected, but he welcomed it. His mouth was going faster than his brain. But the slight shift in your expression told him it was a welcomed development.
"Yes," you bit back a smile as you confirmed it, "I wanted to see whether the feeling was mutual or if you were just socially incompetent. No offense."
"None taken. And, uh, what's your verdict?"
"I think it'd be more fun if you tell me," you challenged.
Either he was crazy or you were gradually leaning closer to him. Or maybe it was him. Both? Either way, the proximity increased.
"I do like you. It's painfully obvious and probably worrying how much since we've only met once, but I even went asking my friends about you," he found himself admitting.
"Really? That's funny, because I was asking Mingyu about you," you revealed.
So you didn't like Mingyu. Noted.
"Oh? I, uh, what'd he say?"
You hummed, scooting over and shamelessly laying one of your legs atop his, body leaning completely towards his own. The distance between you was practically nonexistent now, with your eyes even zeroing in on his lips as you spoke.
"He told me you can be shy sometimes. That I should help you out a little."
"A-and, are you? Going to help me out, I mean," he could hear his own gulp.
"Nope," you popped the 'p,' "I want you to take what you want."
"That's ... You're kind of mean," he chuckled breathlessly.
You chuckled back, but you were clearly frustrated by how much he was dragging it.
Without having to move, his arm wrapped around you, courtesy of you literally taking it and placing it on your hip. He was obedient, so he followed along. Next, your hand placed itself on his cheek, tilting his head down and abolishing any sort of distance left. Your lips were practically touching now.
"Vernon, just do it. I want you to. I really want you to."
And so he kissed you.
Immediately, you deepened it, taking control of it all.
All you wanted was for him to take the first step, which in reality he didn't. You held all the power, which you knew. Still, he enjoyed this. He liked that you knew the effect you had on him and that you knew what to do with it.
Plus, he'd be an idiot to complain about your sticking your tongue in his mouth.
Like any thinking, breathing man, he continued to kiss you, not bothering to stifle any groans he left against your lips. He completely disregarded the fact that you were in a public space, that anyone could walk in at any moment — maybe even one of his friends. But it was hard to care when your fingers tangled through the tresses of his hair and sucked at his tongue.
The kiss only stopped when you harshly pulled at his hair, physically removing his face from your own. He mumbled out a few complaints as you did, but eventually woke up from his trance and cleared his throat as you pulled away.
"It's almost 1 o'clock," you said, but all he paid attention to were your swollen lips, "There's a swimming class at one," you began getting up, towering over Vernon as you dried yourself up, "So unless you want to get a fine for fondling in private property, we should go."
You held out your hand for him to stand up, surprising Vernon when your stance didn't falter when helping lift up his weight. That's when he was reminded about your affinity for weight lifting. Hot.
The fleeting thought of you manhandling him crossed through his mind, but he shook it away not wanting to risk a boner at the gym.
"You planned this, didn't you?"
"Maybe. But it's more fun like this, isn't it?", you giggled as you walked away.
Vernon shook his head to himself as he watched you — very focused on the show you gave him as you walked away.
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Vernon continued to see you on an almost daily basis after that — or at least every day in which he got dragged to the gym. Except maybe not in the way that he had hoped.
After that time in which you led him to the privacy of the empty pool patio, the two of you did not spend any time alone. Every single time he saw you was exclusively at the gym, with all the other guys in your immediate vicinity. He didn't even get the chance to speak to you, mostly unable to due to your attention being shared between thirteen men seemingly starved for attention (with him being the biggest culprit).
Like a dumbass, he didn't ask for your number at any time. His shyness around you had mostly left him, but he was still an awkward idiot when it came to taking further steps towards you.
And it wasn't as if you'd stopped provoking him. If anything, your efforts had doubled. Your gym outfits went from baggy shirts and spandex to tiny little sets that showed off as much skin as possible — he had even confirmed with Seungkwan that this was a brand new development in your wardrobe. You were insistent in eyeing him down any time it was his turn to do some sets. You'd bite your lip and stare at him as if you wanted to jump him on the spot. It was safe to say that this messed with his performance (not that he had good form in the first place).
A week of this went by, making him slowly lose his mind. All of his friends became privy to his frustrations, but he was mostly met with mockery. Some told him he was an idiot, that he should just grow some balls and ask you to come over to his apartment. Others simply laughed at how weak he was under your attention.
On the eighth day of this hell, he finally decided to do something about it. If you wanted to play with his sanity, then he'd feed right into it. He didn't care to look like a wimp or like he was down bad for you — he was both of those things, and proud.
Mondays were the day in which the guys went to the gym at night rather than during the day. Something about a lower influx of people at that specific time. And you, you had a tendency of attending the gym at the same time as them most of the time, which meant you were also present.
It was almost closing time by the time the guys were done working out that day. Vernon had to endure three hours due to their insistence that they 'might as well stay til closing.'
As they began to pack up, of course Mingyu managed to hold up the part-timers who were about to close, wondering if it'd be fine to stay an extra ten minutes so a few of his friends could catch the showers they desperately needed. Being Mingyu, of course the part-timers didn't stand a chance to his charms.
Vernon decided to take this as an opportunity to find you alone. The guys (who loved to hog your attention, apparently) would finally be out of his way while he sought you out. It was the perfect chance to at least ask you for your number. Before you left the guys and headed over to the girls' locker rooms, you made sure to eye Vernon far too suggestively for him to misunderstand your intentions. Or at least he hoped so.
For once, Vernon was thankful for Mingyu's habit to befriend every person in his vicinity, as his yapping allowed Vernon to sneak into the women's locker rooms to find you there. It was also thanks to him that he'd be able to you alone rather than accidentally bump into some other gym-goer. He made a mental note to thank him later before beginning his search for you.
This search didn't last long. It was clear to Vernon as soon as he crossed the threshold to the showers in the girl's locker room that you'd been expecting him.
In nothing but a towel, you stood next to a running shower, lower lip trapped under your teeth as you eyed him down. No words to be exchanged. All you had to do was extend your hand out to him for him to finally unfreeze and do something.
Immediately, you dropped your towel and dragged him into the shower, pulling him in so that he'd have you pinned up against the dampened wall. His gym clothes got soaked, but he figured it was worth the temporary inconvenience. Especially when your hands began pawing at him to get undressed within seconds of kissing him.
Just like last time, Vernon lost all sense of time and space in the kiss. His hands were way less awkward than he was, confident in their touching of your body. The wetness of the running water only added to it all, allowing Vernon's hands to easily slide across every curve.
"You took too long to make a move," you huffed into his lips.
Your hands expressed frustration. They glided through his dampening hair, pulling it in order to get his mouth to open for access for your tongue. It was clear to him you had a tendency to take what you wanted, and he was ready to be completely consumed by you.
"I told you," he mumbled, "you make me act like an idiot."
That pulled a chuckle from you as your lips traveled down the wet skin of his neck. Teeth pulled lightly at the skin there, surely leaving reddened marks behind their wake. Every bite and suckle was met by a squeeze of your hips, courtesy of Vernon's needy hands.
"So I'm not being too forward? This is fine?", you pulled away for half a second before Vernon grumbled as he reconnected your lips. You chuckled at his neediness.
"Please be as forward as humanly possible. It's hot."
The two of you continued kissing. Had it not been for the echoing of the water hitting the floor, Vernon was sure the obscene sound of your kissing would've made him blush. It wasn't like him to play tonsil tennis in public like this, but you made his common sense leave his body.
Then you made things all the worse for him.
Pulling away, you eyed him before wrapping your hand around him. Vernon made the mistake of looking down, finding your hand slowly working him, pace so slow it was surely meant to tease. He groaned as he looked back up, eyes becoming stuck at your bare tits for the first time since you'd dropped your towel for him.
"You're so fucking hot," he groaned almost pained.
"Yeah? You too, baby," you grinned as you sped up your hand.
Baby? Was he baby now? Fuck.
"I- fuck, this won't be fun if you keep going," he winced despite the increasing pleasure. This only encouraged you to make things even worse for him, though. Your lips attached to his neck again, dick now being grasped with both hands as one worked him and the other tended to his balls.
"I'm having fun," a breath was felt against his skin as you chuckled between kisses to his chest, "I want you to cum right here," you laid one last kiss before moving to his ear, licking and pulling at the lobe, "If you're good, you'll get me on my knees after."
Vernon almost lost it then. He didn't care what you'd ask of him. He needed this. At no other point in his life had he ever needed something as much as he needed to obey your every whim.
He groaned and buried his face in your neck as his hands continued to fondle at you. They took turns between your ass and your breasts, losing any decorum they had left. This was the only pleasure he could give you while you jerked him off, but you loved it. Your pretty sighs against his ear told him that you were getting off on the effect you had on him. His lack of control as he felt you up to his heart's contentment had you reeling. It was sickening how much he enjoyed that knowledge.
"'m gonna cum, fuck. Shit, I need- oh, fuck," he babbled. You squeezed and twisted and played at his cock in ways that had nonsensical words leaving his lips. No further coherent cries left him whilst you had your fun with him.
"That's it, baby. Cum for me," you continued to instigate.
As per usual, he was yours to toy with. His body followed your instructions before he could even process your words. The cum splattered on your stomach before trailing down and going down the drain, washed away by the wasted water.
Again, you kissed him, this time without the separation of your hand on his dick standing between you. His arms held onto you tighter than before as he pulled you as close as possible. Sensitivity sparked on his dick when you began absentmindedly grinding against him. Despite the water surrounding you, he was sure it was your own wetness that he felt as you humped him.
When he let his hand explore between your legs, he had to bite back a groan. You were incredibly soaked, instantly dampening his fingers with your nectar.
Your sigh of pleasure against his lips told him all he needed to know as he felt between your legs. A tiny nod from you was confirmation that you wanted him, so his fingers entered you. But not before teasing at your folds with a hard knuckle, up until you bit his lip and grumbled at him.
"Shit, you're tight."
"I'll be tighter when you fuck me," you moaned.
"I, fuck, yeah? You'll let me fuck you, baby?", he breathed out, beginning to scissor his fingers in and out of you, curling where he knew would have you keening for him.
You gasped out a moan, hands digging into his chest in a worthless attempt to both pull and push him away. Head thrown back, Vernon took advantage to scrape his teeth on the skin there, sucking lightly at the points that had you shuddering. His read on your body was immediate. It gave him a surge of confidence to note every little reaction you had to him. Every moan and every gasp was taken in by him, stored in his hippocampus for future use.
"Oh, fuck, right there, shit, Vernon," you whimpered.
Long fingers, pointed and curled in a come-hither motion began repeating their movements. Touching that spongy part of you, Vernon continued to pull cries out of you, uncaring that anyone could walk by and hear you despite the running shower. The water was beginning to run cold, but your orgasm mattered more to Vernon.
"'m gonna cum, Nonnie," you warned, letting your head fall onto his shoulder.
"Cum, shit. Wanna fuck you so bad."
You tightened at that, causing his hardening length to twitch at the thought of you wanting him as much as he did you — though that was impossible to him.
When your orgasm found you, Vernon knew he was in out of his depth. Your back curled as his free hand held you up against him, causing your chest to dig into his own. Head thrown back and fingers digging into his biceps, you were a sight he would never forget. A low groan of his own mixed with your breathy whines at the mere view of your pleasure overtaking you in such a way — and because of him!
His fingers continued to play at your middle throughout your orgasm, refusing to stop toying at your swollen clit until you whined at him to stop with a halfhearted grumble.
He chuckled at the sight. Somehow you managed to look adorable to him right after what had just happened between you.
Just when he thought you'd stop to at least take a breather, you cupped his face and pulled him in for another kiss. His fingers were still dripping with you, hand simply flying between your bodies to ensure he didn't get your own substances on you. But shocking him once again, you pulled away, grabbing onto his hand and slipping his fingers in your mouth.
Eyeing him down as you sucked at his fingers, his mouth shot open, letting out a silent groan at the sight — Depraved. That's the only way Vernon could describe himself at that moment as he watched your eyes roll back as you sucked at his digits in your mouth.
"I wanna suck your dick," you deadpanned as soon as you pulled his fingers out of your mouth.
All he could do was choke on his own spit, full well knowing that his dick twitched against his stomach, gracing your own due to the proximity between you.
"I, you don't have to-"
"But I want to. Do you not?"
Your head tilted and your eyebrows furrowed as if you were confused by his hesitation. He was confused too.
As much as he wanted to take you up on your offer, — and very enthusiastically so — he knew there was no way he could last more than one more orgasm (and that was saying a lot).
And despite the thought of you on your knees, mouth wrapped around him as you eyed him in that way you knew made him feel faint making him almost lose his mind, what he wanted most at that moment (or ever, he was pretty sure) was to be inside you.
The thirst he felt for you at that moment was unmatched. It was a sickly feeling considering he'd only known you for a bit over a week, yet your effect on him had been immediate — That, and the fact that you were standing in front of him, completely nude and dripping wet (everywhere), eyeing him like you wanted to devour him until there was no man left in him.
"I wanna fuck you," his voice broke as he said it, a testament to how needy he felt in that moment.
"Yeah?"
There was that pleased, teasing smile on your lips again. And then a hand wrapped around him again, but this time directing him towards your center, holding him hostage as his tip graced at your mound.
"Like this? Want me against the wall? While the guys wait for me to finish 'showering'?", you were challenging him, he knew it.
He took the bait.
For the nth time, your lips connected in a heavy kiss. It was dubious whose spit made its way to his chin, but that was the last thing he had in his mind.
Grabbing onto your toned thigh, he lifted it to wrap around his waist, pushing himself up against you even closer, ridding you of even the smallest inch of distance. Meanwhile, your hand led his cock to your entrance, teasing yourself (and him) by running it up and down your slit, stopping to circle his tip on your clit.
Vernon's forehead fell against yours with a groan at the feeling of your warmth, a whimper leaving him when you took that chance to lick into his mouth, beginning to push him inside, but only the tip.
"F-fuck, please," he pleaded against your lips.
"Begging now?", you chuckled.
"I'll beg every time if it means you'll let me fuck you."
And he meant it more than he realized. Whimpers left his mouth as soon as you began leading him in, legs shaking and a sigh of relief leaving his lips at finally being inside you.
You were so tight, so hot, so fucking wet. He could feel his eyes itching to roll back all the way to his brain at how perfect you felt. Grabby fingers held onto your damp skin, uncaring that the water hitting his back was now cold and only proved as an obstacle to fucking you. Any surrounding circumstances were locked up in the back burner. His brain was just a constant repetition of yesyesyesyes as he willed himself not to cum within the first minute.
"Fuck, you feel so fucking good ..." he groaned out.
"I'll feel even better when you move," you huffed out a breath.
"Just one second, baby. You feel so good, I'm sorry."
Readjusting his hands on your hips, he brought you closer, raising the leg you had wrapped around him a bit and leaning you upwards. From this angle, he began to move, starting off slow to test the waters. And god, did that reward him.
The prettiest sigh he'd ever heard left your lips, accompanied by subsequent gasps of pleasure. Sharp nails dug into his back, petulant in their attempt to pull him closer, but the took it like a champ.
"Nonnie, fuck! R-right there!", you cried out.
And then he was gone.
He was no longer himself. No longer caring to extend his orgasm and only worried about hitting that spot. The spot that had your back arching and your chest pressing onto his. That same spot that morphed your face in a way that Vernon knew he'd remember for endless nights after this.
Continuing to piston desperately into you. Strength he didn't know he had suddenly took over as he manhandled your body as he wished. Every thrust was accompanied by your own attempts at pushing back against him, leading to a depraved harmony of slapping skin and gasps of pleasure.
"Didn't, shit, didn't think you were this strong," you hiccuped out.
"That's what good pussy does to a man," he joked, but deep down probably meant it.
You tried to laugh, but the sound was interrupted by another moan, head throwing itself back and resting against the shower wall. You tightened yourself around him then, groaning something out to him about not making you laugh. He couldn't really process it when you were suctioning him in so deliciously.
Soon enough, he felt his high approaching, making him panic and accelerate the speed of his thrusts. His mind was going a mile a minute as he attempted to take you down with him, mumbling out expletives into your skin, huffing and groaning at the way you internmently tightened around him.
"Need you to cum with me, okay? Please, it'll be so fucking embarrassing if you don't."
You chuckled between gasps, pulling him in for a kiss, "I'm there, just, fuck, keep doing that."
He was far too gone, lips barely able to kiss back in the midst of his orgasm taking over. He couldn't do this. Couldn't handle how good it all felt. Couldn't deal with your tongue in his mouth or your nails digging into his skin, much less with the sudden strangulation your cunt performed on his cock as your own orgasm arrived. And then your high pitched moans came into the picture, making him truly lose his mind.
"It's so good, oh god, so fucking good. You feel so- fuck, shit, so tight, baby," he babbled against your lips.
"So good, hmm? Fucking me so good, Non," you moaned back.
Vernon swore he blacked out after that, not knowing what happened as soon as the dramatic influx of pleasure reached him. The aftermath was full of dizziness and a feeling of fulfillment Vernon had never experienced before. It was like waking up from an amazing nap, except this time he was still plunged deeply into the prettiest girl he'd ever seen as she pressed lazy kisses to his chest.
"Are you alive?", you asked when you reached his lips, pecking them once, twice, thrice before he tried deepening it, only to find you pulling away with a giggle.
"Maybe not. I'd be fine if I wasn't. That would've been a great way to go."
"You're funny after sex," you noted.
"It's a little easier when I'm already inside you. It's less nerve-wracking that way."
"Yeah? So are you gonna go back to stuttering through every sentence once you pull out?", you tightened yourself around him to somehow prove your point, making him wince.
"Nope. Staying here. I'll even risk hypothermia with this cold ass water," that earned him another laugh and even a kiss.
"Okay, Romeo. Mingyu can only hold off the part-timers for so long, c'mon," you pressed your hands on his chest, making him groan but follow along to your instruction as per usual. — maybe this was something to look into. Later.
~
"I was not expecting that from you," you breathed out a laugh once you were dressed, exiting the dressing room hand-in-hand.
You were kidding. Maybe.
"I told you I'm not as socially awkward as I seem. I'm just an idiot around you," he chuckled. His hand swung back and forth with yours jovially.
He was very happy right now. Sue him.
"Well, a very skilled idiot, then."
He laughed along with you as you approached the main lobby, finding two familiar men leaning against a wall. It was clear in their demeanor that they'd been waiting a while, with Mingyu sighing in frustration when he spotted you.
"Half an hour? What could you have been doing in there for half an hour?", whined Seokmin.
"Well-"
"Don't. Rhetorical question," interrupted Mingyu.
The two of you snickered, walking past them and towards the exit. Both boys exchanged a look as they followed slightly behind you.
"Hold on. No 'thank you'?", Mingyu interrupted again.
Mingyu stopped you from walking away, grabbing onto your arm so you'd turn around and subsequently causing your hand to disconnect from Vernon's
You sighed in exaggerated annoyance, "Fine. Thank you, Gyu. I guess I owe you one."
"Wait, what?", Vernon looked quizzically at you both.
Mingyu grinned stupidly at both of you, with an equally idiotic Seokmin standing next to him with a mirrored expression.
"She asked us if we could stall so she'd get you alone," Mingyu started.
"I was just going to pull the fire alarm, but Gyu figured that probably wouldn't work," Seokmin continued, "and now Gyu scored a date with the receptionist, so all wins here, I guess."
Vernon turned to you, both scandalized and amused, "You-"
"Hey, I told you. You were taking too long. A girl has needs," you shrugged, grabbing onto his hand again and beginning to walk away as if it was nothing.
Vernon could've argued back. But following you seemed like the more obvious response.
Maybe he'd been a total loser throughout all this, but he scored the girl in the end. All was good.
Except now he'd probably have to go to the gym every other day.
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to read short 1.7k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!
content: established relationship, afab reader, smut, morning sex, dry humping, tit worship, sorta switch!vernon, etc.
wc: 332 (teaser); 1789 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
"God, no, I can't go again," Vernon grumbled, face planted on his pillow.
The man was practically passed out, unmoving as he stayed cuddled into his blankets. The only movements out of him were the occasional squeezing of his arms around the polar bear plush you'd gotten him a few weeks back.
Vernon was more than content staying like this for the rest of the day. Only thing that would've made it all even better would be if you hadn't insisted on getting up and away from his arms.
Unfortunately for him, you were strong enough to flip him over.
Usually, this would be something he enjoyed. Something he keened over, even. But the context was different.
This time you weren't flipping him over to straddle him and make him lose his mind. No, this time was so you could continue to insist at him to get up, but now forcing him to look you in the eye as you did so.
"Vernon, we agreed on this," you pouted at him.
You were too far for his liking. While he laid on bed, body completely stretched out and occupying way too much space, you were propped up on your knees on the same bed, except not close enough for him to pull you into him. This was strategic, he guessed.
"It's been three months. How much longer do I have to keep going to the gym?"
"It's kind of a lifetime type of thing."
He groaned.
"If I show up without you you're just gonna get twelve men barging in here in an hour," you reasoned, crawling closer to him.
"Is there any way I can convince you to not make me go?"
"Is there any way I can convince you to go?", you rebutted, eyes flirty.
Vernon knew this move.
"You know you can convince me. You're very well aware of all the ways in which you can convince me. It's kind of mean of you to threaten me like this."
...
find the 18+ continuation on patreon!
if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3
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iwantabatlleaxe · 16 hours ago
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I had this talk with my cousin. He quit his basically CEO position because he felt lost in life, had that "worked to the top, lost purpose" vibes from what I got.
He was talking about wanting to travel as an objectjve, he can do it with his savings, but still said something was missing- a hobby.
He mentioned several options but none really intrigued him so I remembered a post like this and said "how about trying every type of apple?"
He didn't know there were more than 3 apply types!
Sometimes we really need to step back down and enjoy the little, simple things in life and make of them a novelty.
Apple types, testing different soaps, different drinks, walking a different route, cheking puclic spaces- they all can be goals too.
new years resolutions are easy i think you guys are just doing them wrong?
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diorstarkey · 2 days ago
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Good Graces | 01
Rafe Cameron x Princess!Reader | series masterlist.
summary; Being the son of the President of the United States came with its fair share of responsibilities, but none as infuriating as this. To secure his father's re-election, Rafe Cameron was forced to spend weeks under the same roof as the Princess of England. Diplomacy, they called it. Torture, he thought. The last thing he needed was a spoiled royal ruining his summer. But between gala events, unexpected conversations, and stolen glances, Rafe realized the line between hate and attraction was thinner than he'd ever imagined.
warnings; no smut. reader is two years younger than rafe. english is not my first language. the images are for the aesthetic. 'forced marriage au' by @rafecameronssl4t inspired<3
author's note; this is my first series!!! hope you liked it, reblogs and comments are appreciated<3
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The presidential ballroom was impeccably decorated, a display of luxury that Rafe found unnecessary and pretentious. He leaned against one of the high columns, watching the political and royal elite move like chess pieces on a board. Ward has talking to the King, your father, about something he wasn't paying attention and didn't bother to pretend to care about.
The ride over had been torturous enough. For the thousandth time, Ward lectured him on how to behave in front of the Royal Family, reminding him—again— not to embarrass him in front of "the most powerful allies we could ever have."
Now, as he stood there, arms crossed and mind elsewhere, he saw you enter to the ballroom. Your entrance was impossible to ignore, your dress shimmering as if the stars themselves had been woven into it. Everything about you was poised, practiced and perfect, from the tilt of your chin to the way you greeted the room with that ever–diplomatic smile.
When your gaze finally met his, your expression shifted slightly, and an eyebrow arched. You approached with purpose, the polite smile on your face as cold as the champagne being served.
"You should bow", you said, your British accent cutting through the noise around them.
Rafe didn't move, instead crossing his arms tighter. "And why would I do that?"
"Because I'm royalty" you replied matter-of-factly, through your smile remained polite.
"And I'm the President's son" Rafe shot back, his tone dry. "I'd say that makes us even, wouldn't you?"
Your smile tightened ever so slightly, but you didn’t back down. “Are you always this charming, or is it just when you’re forced to interact with people far more important than you?”
"Only when those people are wearing a crown and an attitude." he countered, smirking.
Before you could retort, a voice interrupted.
“Ah, there you are, Rafe!” Ward’s tone was overly cheerful, drawing both your attention. “Why don’t you and the Princess take a photo together? A perfect opportunity for the press, don’t you think?”
You exchanged a quick, reluctant glance with Rafe, silently agreeing on one thing for the first time: this was going to be a long night.
Rage groaned internally, but this well-practiced fake smile was already in place. He extended an arm toward you in mock politeness, his smirk sharp enough to cut glass. "After you, Your Highness. Don't want to break royal protocol now, don't we?"
You rolled your eyes, but your own diplomatic farcade never faltered. "How thoughtful of you, Mr. Cameron."
As you both moved toward the photo backdrop, flashes from cameras already began to light up the room. Rafe leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “Smile big, Princess. The world’s watching.”
“I'd rather choke and believe me,” you replied through gritted teeth, “I’ve been smiling through worse company than yours.”
The photographer barked instructions as if posing next to someone you couldn’t stand wasn’t awkward enough. “Closer, please! Let’s see some warmth!”
Rafe, ever the troublemaker, slipped an arm lightly around your waist. “Anything for the press,” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You stiffened at the gesture, your eyes shooting daggers at him. “Get your hand off me before I make you regret it,” you hissed quietly, though your face maintained an air of perfect grace for the cameras.
“Relax,” Rafe replied, his grin widening. “I’m just playing the role your family paid for.”
“Paid for?” you echoed, your smile faltering for just a fraction of a second.
“Sure. Isn’t that what this is? A transaction? You play nice with us so my dad looks good, and in return, we keep your little kingdom relevant.”
Your eyes narrowed dangerously, and for a moment, you wondered if anyone would notice if you stabbed him with your heel. “Your arrogance is truly astonishing.”
“And your entitlement is truly exhausting,” Rafe shot back, his voice just low enough to keep your verbal sparring private.
“Perfect!” the photographer called out, breaking the tension. “You two have such natural chemistry. Just lovely.”
You stepped away from Rafe the second it was socially acceptable, smoothing down the fabric of your dress as if even proximity to him had somehow wrinkled it.
“I need a drink,” you muttered under your breath.
“Make it a double,” Rafe quipped, already heading toward the bar.
A few minutes later, you found yourself stationed next to Rafe at a small table as your families chatted about alliances, trade agreements, and other topics that seemed infinitely dull. You weren’t listening, of course. You were too busy internally debating whether it was worth the scandal to excuse yourself entirely.
Rafe, meanwhile, was stirring the ice in his glass with a look that screamed disinterest. His posture was casual, legs stretched out slightly under the table as if he were deliberately trying to take up as much space as possible.
“Enjoying yourself?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Immensely,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. “I especially enjoy sitting through conversations about ‘strengthening ties’ and ‘mutual benefits.’ Thrilling stuff, really.”
“Perhaps if you paid attention, you’d learn something,” you countered, keeping your voice neutral as possible.
“Perhaps if I wanted to listen to lectures, I’d go back to college,” he shot back.
You arched a brow. “Ah, yes. How could I forget? The prodigal son of the President, gracing the Ivy League with his presence. Did you even finish?”
Rafe’s smirk returned, though this time it was edged with something more genuine. “Touché, Princess. I did, actually. But I guess the finer details of my resume didn’t make it across the Atlantic.”
“Oh, I’m sure the tabloids covered it thoroughly,” you said. “Right next to your exploits at frat parties and your extensive collection of speeding tickets.”
He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve done your homework. Impressive.”
“Unlike you,” you shot back, taking a sip of your champagne.
“Touché again,” he said, tipping his glass toward you in mock admiration. “You’re sharp. I’ll give you that.”
The conversation, sharp and biting as it was, didn’t go unnoticed. Across the room, Ward exchanged a glance with the King, who raised an eyebrow as if to say, Is this really going to work?
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DIORSTARKEY — do not plagiarize, translate or copy my work.
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apeachty · 3 days ago
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₊ ˚ ⊹ ♡ . ⠀broken rules, mended hearts
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⠀⠀⠀fwb!yeonjun x fem!reader
genre : angst, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff at the end
warnings : dom fwb!yeonjun x sub!reader, both are intended more or less grown up as yeonjun has his own apartment and reader has a job; LOTS of kinks mentioned, but nothing too much; reader was “close to inexperienced” before yeonjun; unwanted pregnancy discussions; some misogyny (not from yeonjun, ofc); reader is awkward when it comes to dates and also puts yeonjun through a really bad emotional rollercoaster (but not on purpose); lots of misunderstandings and overthinking. reader wears a sundress (is it important?..). melancholic and angsty, but with a happy end
wordcount : 14k
note : sigh... thank you @biteyoubiteme for hyping me up, beta reading it and listening to all of my tantrums every 3k words. it wouldn't have happened without you ♡ i also don't know how it happened, i guess i just wanted a happy ending for fwb!yeonjun bad enough.
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yeonjun had become soft recently. too soft. what was once regular doggy style slowly transformed into regular missionary, with your limbs wrapped tight around his body; occasional cowgirl rides, where he’d watch you struggle, hands behind his head, shifted to him holding you tight and helping you move on top of him. chests pressed close, as your breaths were mingling in the small, intimate space, heartbeats syncing as one. 
sharp quick bites turned into deliberate love marks he took his time to make, pressing his lips gently to each mark before moving to unmarked skin; quick frustrated slaps to your thighs and ass became more intended and calculated. he developed a habit of gripping handful after each slap, fingertips sinking into your flesh, before caressing bruised skin tenderly. he was marking you even more than before, but started doing it slowly, as if savouring every drag of his nails along your thighs, every touch, every bite, and wanting you to savour it too.
rare, tiny pecks that used to happen infrequently began appearing more often, slowly inching dangerously close to your lips. so slowly that you barely noticed it until you could smell mint toothpaste and faint honey chapstick he bought for himself because he loved the way yours smelled. his mean name-calling and degradation melted into sweet names and an almost unnecessary amount of praise. 
unnecessary, you chuckled to yourself bitterly. you never knew how much you needed yeonjun to be like that until he became the person who held you tight after each orgasm, his hand over your heart, waiting for it to calm down, his lips pressed to your neck, whispering how much of a good girl you were for him. sometimes he stayed the night, or made you stay. gosh, you even cockwarmed him through the night once, and you never wanted him to leave your body after that. 
what had started as a way to release frustration, stress, or anger, became something messy and confusing. he began refusing to have sex with you when he was angry, calling it “unfair to you”. he said he didn't want to pour all of his frustration onto you. you begged him sometimes, though. at first, because he was so unbelievably hot when he was like that and you craved him to be rough—the roughest—with you. later, because you wanted him to let it all out—bottling up emotions never did anything good for anyone, and you knew fucking you until you could barely think would help him.
sometimes he agreed, and sometimes he didn't. if he did, he still started softly, keeping his emotions down just for a moment to make sure you knew he wasn't angry at you, never at you, before throwing you on the bed and making you a dumb, trembling, whimpering mess beneath him. marks and love bruises bloomed all over your body as he fucked you senseless. when he refused, though, you talked about his day, ate ice cream or some of his favourite food, as frustration was slowly leaving his body and he was laughing more and more at your antics. understanding which one was needed started coming naturally for you somewhere along the way. and he confessed once that both were helping him the same, in their own ways. 
yeonjun started taking more charge when you were the one stressed too, almost pulling you away from his dick when he knew that getting fucked senselessly would only add to your burden. he acted like he knew better than you did, and the worst part was—he was right. he was doing exactly what you needed, almost every time, and if he ever misunderstood, he was quick to change his approach. it felt like he could get into your mind. or like you two were so perfectly suited, your flaws aligning like puzzle pieces, that no words were needed. you didn't know which one was worse.
it wasn't that sex had become boring or rare. against all odds, you both started reaching out to each other more often—not just on bad days, but when you were horny, or bored, or had free time. sometimes you’d text him because you missed him, and even though he agreed to meet every time, you refused to admit—even to yourself—that you just wanted to spend time with him, sex or not. 
you started experimenting more too. impulsive rough sex had its limits and lines yeonjun couldn't cross because he could hurt you while he couldn't control himself, but as it started happening on a cold head more and more often, you both found yourselves enjoying testing how far he could go, how much your body could take. he learned your limits—how many slaps your butt could endure, the right way to squeeze your throat to make you dizzy yet enjoying it, how many times he could deny your orgasm or grant it, how hard he could pull your hair to make you beg for more. you even got a pretty box of all the nice toys and added ‘yellow’ as a safe word just for him to explore your limits more comfortably. 
one day he mentioned a list of more things he would like to try—you weren’t sure if it was with you or in general, given his experience. you were close to inexperienced when the ‘friends with benefits’ thing started, and he introduced you to many of his kinks. surprisingly enough you loved each one, while being not too interested in the ones he was indifferent to. but there were more he wanted you to try, and he named only a few—free use with somnophilia, the thought of him using you any moment and any way he wanted already thrilled you; role play, the few ideas he shared sounded good already. but the one he mentioned and quickly brushed off was a spit kink, which stuck in your mind since then, conflicting with the ‘no kissing’ rule of his. 
yeonjun was a decent man too, always had been, so it was typically at least one for one when it came to oral activities between you two. of course, sometimes he could eat you out simply because he wanted to, not as a “return the favour” gesture, but usually you just skipped it for the sake of the main event unless he wanted to fuck your face. recently, however, it had changed too—eating you out had become a necessary part of the ‘main event’ for him, as if something had been unleashed within him. he would spend hours between your legs before or after fucking you—or both—and it felt like he had learned from the gods themselves. his free hand would often be resting over your heart or holding yours, fingers interlaced. and at the same time you had to beg him to let you suck him off, despite knowing you weren't that bad at it and that he clearly enjoyed the feeling of your mouth on him. you assumed he just enjoyed hearing your pathetic begging for his cock a little bit more.
you’d probably fucked on every surface in his apartment, which wasn't exactly weird, because you did it before too—often none of you had enough patience to get to the bedroom. but now it was different—he asked you if you liked the place, if it was comfortable for you, if the position was comfortable or if you would like something else. if you didn’t like it he never pulled you there even in the heat of a moment. his questions weren’t obvious, but you quickly caught on, jokingly suggesting you should fill a survey. he laughed, joking back and saying you two could move in together for the research to go faster.
it was confusing. he was confusing. and you hated it more than anything. except one thing—the way your “friends with benefits” arrangement was evolving lately made you feel soft and dizzy, made you dream of something more like you were a middle schooler writing her crush’s name in a diary and drawing a bunch of tiny hearts around it. it went against the ‘no catching feelings’ he’d set up in the beginning. you broke it at some point—maybe ‘friends with benefits’ thing wasn’t for you in general? you were hiding it, of course, but when he started changing, you started overthinking it. was he breaking the rule too? was it just normal behaviour for friends with benefits? was it just normal behaviour for him? 
you didn’t ask, afraid he would laugh at you and your stupid childish feelings. but you didn’t break what you had either, not knowing what to do to make it hurt the least in the end for you and choosing to go with the flow. you tried to not question anything he did, slowly giving him control over your relationship, not only in bed but out of it too. you had no idea how it was supposed to work in general, and he never explained except making a few rules and asking if you had any rules you'd like to have too. you couldn't think of anything, so you just mumbled something about you both checking for STDs, and he chuckled telling you it always went without saying.
a few weeks later it became the “we're strictly exclusive” rule, as you both realized that looking for anyone else was useless—you met each other’s needs well. you ditched condoms too—you’d been on birth control pills for years already, you were exclusive, and you both were clean. and he swore you would be into cum play just as much as he was. he turned out to be right, because condoms were prohibited in his and your place since the first night without one. it never crossed your mind, because it made sense, until one day, months later, you realized your period was late.
you had been staying at yeonjun’s house for nearly two weeks—his apartment was closer to your work, and with the quarter ending, he suggested you move in until you finished your extra work. it made sense, as you already had enough of your belongings there, and he often checked if anything needed to be bought. his gaze fell on your period supplies one day, and he realized that you should have been on your period for a few days already, but all the packages were still unopened. 
it wasn't too big of a deal, it had happened a few times before. these past two weeks had been stressful for you, so he just grabbed the last pregnancy test—making a mental note to buy more later—and handed it to you without any second thought. you didn't pay much attention to it either, taking it from him and going to the bathroom. after all, you were taking pills, and even though they weren't 100% effective, getting pregnant was still rare. the test showed positive though. 
seeing the pale little line next to the bright one made your whole world come crashing down. you stared at it, unable to comprehend what was worse. unwanted pregnancy? you didn't want to have children, not at that point of your life at least. yeonjun didn't want either. he was your friend with benefits for god's sake, that was completely uncalled for. it'd be uncalled for even if you were dating, and you weren't. you started spiraling. pregnancy could be dealt with, but he could think you did it on purpose, skipping your pills just to get pregnant, to baby trap him. he would hate you, you thought. he would yell at you to get out, saying he wanted nothing to do with you, that everything was a mistake, even meeting you.
yeonjun found you a few minutes later, sitting on the bathroom floor and staring at the test, tears streaming down your face. you didn't react to him calling you, and he didn't need to look at the test to know the result. you looked up at him, eyes puffy and red, holding out the test. he glanced at it quickly, but it felt like an eternity for you. it was the moment you realized the feelings you had caught for him were too strong, as your heart was breaking into the smallest pieces at the thought of him telling you to leave his life. and the worst thing was, you weren't so sure anymore what to do with the child, with the tiny piece of him. 
you waited for him to yell at you, but he never did. yeonjun wasn't excited or even happy to become a father, but he sat down next to you and held you while you fell apart in his arms, trying to keep at least the biggest pieces of you together. he promised to hold your hand through every step of pregnancy, birth, and parenthood if the test was right and you wanted to keep the baby. he said you could move in with him here, and he would turn his little dance room into a nursery and baby’s room later, or even sell that apartment to buy a bigger one. he swore to never leave you two alone, and if you needed a guarantee, he was ready to marry you as soon as possible.
yeonjun ran to get more when he was sure you had calmed down. it turned out the test was expired and showed a false positive—you weren't pregnant, and you were relieved. he visibly relaxed too—he never told you he was happy you weren't pregnant but you knew him well enough already to know it yourself, and weren’t mad at him even for a second—you felt absolutely the same. the whole situation drained you completely though, and you fell asleep early that day, wrapped tightly in yeonjun's arms as he kept you together after all the shocks of the day. 
that was the last time it happened, the unwanted and unhappened pregnancy drawing a line between you that was little by little becoming a growing gap. you distanced yourself from him, and he started reaching out much less frequently too. you didn't know what was going through his head, but you assumed he realized that having a child was too much—maybe with you, maybe in general—and the risk wasn't worth it. you were thinking something similar: if you were going to take that risk, you'd prefer doing it in not only an exclusive but also committed relationship, and you couldn't have it with yeonjun no matter how much you wished the rule didn’t exist.
it brought you here, sitting half ready for a date on the couch in your apartment, phone in hand. you hadn't heard from yeonjun in three weeks, and for three weeks, you tried to keep your mind as empty as your hollow heart was, afraid that even the smallest thought about what you two had would ruin the little composure you managed to get. but it didn't happen—you’d just basically analyzed everything that happened in these months, and it didn't break you. it only left you more empty. 
you looked down at the messaging app. the chat with yeonjun was still pinned to the top, little ‘3w’ at the top right corner mocking you. i'll unpin it later, you thought, moving your gaze lower. there was one unread message from ‘jaeyong’. “will be there in an hour, baby ;)”, sent twenty minutes ago. you almost made a face at the word ‘baby’—only yeonjun didn’t make it sound cringe. you hadn't even met the guy yet, you matched with him on tinder a few days ago. surprisingly so, because you were ready to give up, as you kept comparing everyone to yeonjun, and of course, no one was ever close. you weren't even sure how you swiped that one right, probably by accident, but you did. maybe it was destiny?
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the ice cream cafe you agreed to meet at was nice, as you had seen it daily on your way to work and were a regular during certain periods, visiting almost daily. they offered a variety of tasty treats, so you didn't have to limit yourself to just ice cream alone. the workers were always friendly too despite the constant stream of customers, but you knew quieter hours as a person who sometimes stayed extra hours at work. or as someone who spent countless days in the area, you realized as your gaze fell upon the window table you and yeonjun used to sit in the late evenings, laughing at each other's poor ice cream flavour choices.
when jaeyong asked you if you had any preferences for the meeting place, you named that cafe without any second thought—he was a stranger and you didn't want to meet him somewhere near your house, but you didn't want to go to an unfamiliar area either. he didn't know where you were working too except brief occupation description, so a cafe not so far from work seemed safe. it felt safe too, but for a completely different reason than you initially thought. it wasn't about the familiar area or the familiar workers; it was about the safety and peace you felt when you were there with yeonjun.
you had to gather some strength to tear your eyes away from the table you two used to occupy regularly and choose another table. you sat down and put your purse on your knees, checking your watch. you were a few minutes early, and it made you uneasy—were you supposed to be a bit late? was it expected from you as some… unspoken rule? should you have waited outside? but it was drizzling lightly, it might ruin your hair or make up. were these good even? yeonjun barely cared if you were barefaced and wore a ponytail, a braid or a bun, so over the months you had gotten out of the habit of dolling yourself up when it wasn't necessary.
but it was necessary now. and you had to stop thinking about yeonjun. you inhaled and exhaled slowly—he was a finished chapter in your life, and you had to move on. you had a date with another man. even if that one didn’t work out, it was a start already. the first step was always the hardest one, and you hoped that this first step would at least help you realize what you were looking for—something that wasn’t just ‘yeonjun’. 
but jaeyong turned out to be… not exactly what you expected. he was a bit late, but you greeted him with a wide smile nevertheless, getting up to hold out your hand to shake his. his cute apologetic smile fell, and he shook your hand awkwardly. you mentally slapped yourself—you had no idea what he expected you to do, but it probably wasn't a handshake that was usually exchanged only between men. you sat back down, nervousness coming back, as you pulled your chair closer to the table, which made him raise his eyebrow. of course. minus another point—you were supposed to let him pull your chair out instead of doing it yourself. 
by the time you finished your dessert, you lost count of how many points you lost. you came up to the counter to order your food yourself instead of telling him so he could order for you both. you paid for your coffee and dessert. you sat on your own again, because you forgot he tried so hard to be a gentleman. you probably ate and drank in some wrong way, but you couldn’t understand what exactly you did wrong—you didn’t talk with your mouth full and didn’t laugh like a hyena at his latte moustaches, showing it subtly on yourself to give him a hint. was that wrong?..
but it wasn’t the worst part of the date. you thought nothing could be worse than being silently judged for every little thing, but then he started talking about his ex. how she wanted to focus on her career instead of giving birth to a few precious babies and become a housewife, while he would work hard to support them all. she had told him that from the beginning, but he was sure she would change her mind—all women did, it was their role after all. he said he was on the verge of achieving it, but she broke up with him for something trivial. you were too close to losing another few points for the sake of checking your tinder profile in the middle of the conversation—you were sure you had ‘don’t want to have kids yet’ there. 
you throw a quick glance outside the window. the rain was pouring now and you didn’t have an umbrella—you hadn’t checked the forecast and had to use your jacket to cover your head when the drizzle started on your way here. and you obviously didn’t have a ride home or at least to the nearby subway station, leaving you with only option—losing a few more points by getting a taxi on your own instead of letting jaeyong get it for you. he was too much of a creep to know even the street you were living on. 
your gaze moved to the window table once again. you never realized how easy it was with yeonjun despite that ‘friends with benefits’ thing complicating everything. at least it was safe with him, and even when he was unpredictable, he was unpredictable in the best way possible. not to mention all the other things that made him so much better than the man sitting across from you now. you pressed your lips together—you missed him, missed the way you felt when you were with him, even though you were sure you’d get your heart broken at some point. but maybe you were just biased toward jaeyong, because your brain still was occupied with thoughts of yeonjun?..
suddenly, your date fell silent. right, not paying attention, minus another point. you suppressed the urge to sigh and looked back at him, hands fidgeting with an empty cup, the textured print feeling nice under your fingers. he threw a quick glance at your hands—minus one more point?—before continuing where he left off, probably launching into another story about why another woman was a gold digger for paying for herself on a date with him. you had abandoned hope of finding any sense in his life views long ago, so you just let his words wash over you without truly listening. 
the bell over the door rang softly, announcing another customer coming in. you looked up, curious about the other lost soul who ended up being in this cafe instead of the warmth of their home, and froze. the person's back was turned to you as they put their umbrella into the stand, but you could swear it was him. his hair was shorter, much shorter, not covering his neck anymore, a neat undercut looking foreign on him—he had one long before you met, you saw photos, but you never saw it in real life. but it was undoubtedly him. yeonjun.
your certainty didn't help you, though, when he turned and looked at you immediately—there was no one else in the cafe after all, of course he looked at you. his face looked different somehow with the shorter hair, but he still was your yeonjun. your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met. he was shocked, his eyes huge and mouth agape, but his expression changed when he noticed a man sitting across from you. his gaze hardened, and he pressed his lips together. yeonjun understood it was a date, he wasn't dumb, but he didn't have time to mourn his heart, because his subconscious threw a huge ‘attention!’ sign at him, making him pause to understand what his gut was trying to tell him.
yeonjun wanted to leave—his house was nearby, and he could make coffee himself and maybe grab an ice cream tub from the convenience store on the way there. but you looked… wrong. something was wrong about you. he felt like it took him a few eternities to realize you were uncomfortable—he rarely saw you like this, you were always at ease with him, barely ever tense, nervous or anxious, but you were all of those now, and he knew he couldn't leave you like that. he had to make sure you were safe, if your date turned out to be a creep, not to mention his umbrella was the only one in the stand, meaning you didn't bring yours, and the rain wouldn't stop until tomorrow morning. 
he took his jacket off, purposefully hanging it on the floor hanger next to yours—even closer than the jacket of your date. you noticed it with the corner of your eyes, despite looking at jaeyong and trying not to make him suspicious. you knew yeonjun was making a statement with it—”i'm here, i'm next to you, i'm not going anywhere”—even though he was clearly upset with you. you could see it perfectly. he wasn't upset with you very often, but you had seen it enough when it came to other people getting on his nerves.
but you still felt at ease just from seeing yeonjun deciding not to leave you alone. he noticed it too—maybe he rarely ever saw you uncomfortable, but the relief written all over your face and body was a stark contrast to the way you looked when he first walked in. he barely glanced at the cashier while ordering his usual—iced americano and mint choco ice cream—his gaze never leaving you even when you weren’t looking at him directly. he knew you could still see him over your date’s shoulder. 
yeonjun chose a place to sit with the same intent—he took a table in the corner just near the counter, positioning himself so you could see him fully without it being obvious, and so he could keep you in his sight. he was thankful the three of you were the only people in the cafe, allowing him to hear every little thing your date said to you—and he sounded like a misogynistic piece of shit. yeonjun wanted nothing more than to just drag you away from the man. no woman should ever listen to something like that. he shook the thought ‘especially mine’ away—you weren’t his anymore. never had been. 
it was taking you too long to end the date, when you obviously weren't interested, yeonjun noticed after fifteen more minutes of listening to more of that asshole’s bullshit. then it hit him—this might be the first time you were dealing with a douchebag like that one, and you had no idea how to handle it. yeonjun’s palms pressed against the table, ready to stand, when he heard something that made his blood boil.
“are you a virgin, by the way? should have asked you from the start.” 
your hands froze on your cup. what did he just ask? was it that important? you didn’t know how to respond. no, of course, you knew that you weren’t one, but the question felt absurd—something no one should ask on the first date unless it really mattered to them. and if it did… he probably wasn’t concerned about taking your virginity, you doubted he thought it was too much of a bother, or that he was looking for an experienced woman only. he wanted a virgin.
why it’s taking you so long to tell him to fuck off, gosh! yeonjun groaned internally, stomping toward your table. he grabbed your wrist, fingers digging into your skin—gesture comforting for both you and yeonjun in some weird way. with a sharp tug, he pulled you out of your seat, not even sparing a glance at the piece of shit you were on a date with—yeonjun knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from punching that asshole if he so much as looked at him. he didn’t say anything to you either—not because he didn’t want to, but because he was afraid of what might spill out in his frustration and anger.
but you didn’t need him to say anything—you followed him obediently to the coat rack, where he grabbed both of your jackets in one hand. he pulled you toward the exit, throwing a short ‘umbrella’ over his shoulder, and you grabbed it from the stand, turning back only to offer the cashier an apologetic smile and a small nod goodbye. he knew you two, often being the one on the shift when you visited the cafe, and while that behaviour wasn’t regular for you two, he’d overheard the conversation and understood what was happening. he was ready to step in if needed, but he was relieved he didn’t have to, because it could have costed him his job. 
yeonjun held the door for you, even though he was still holding your wrist and pulling you outside himself, and you realized he never had to try hard to be a gentleman—he always was one. he stopped under the canopy next to the window, making sure you were protected from the rain until he could open the umbrella and take you home—he turned his back to the wind, shielding you from the cold raindrops, blocking them from hitting you, his jacket hung over his shoulder carelessly freeing his hands so he could put your jacket on you.
his actions weren't gentleman-like—he didn’t hold your jacket, gracefully standing behind your back and carefully pulling it up your arms until it was fully on. yeonjun was sharp with his movements, almost yanking the umbrella from your hand and hooking it over his forearm, as he put the jacket behind you waiting for you to put your arms into the sleeves, trapping you between it and himself. you weren’t against it though, feeling safe for the first time in hours, and feeling like home for the first time in almost a month, as you felt him pull it up sharply to cover your back and shoulders before grabbing his own jacket. 
you took the umbrella from yeonjun and opened it, holding it behind his back to shield him from the rain as he slipped into his jacket. he glanced at you, surprised, but you met his gaze with a soft smile, happy to be near him again and trying not to think about the conversation awaiting for you at his apartment—it wouldn’t be nice, it would be the one that would end everything between you two. so for now you wanted to enjoy the little warmth and care you had for each other while it lasted, you were going to burn each one of his words into your brain and each of his touch into your skin, so you could hear and feel it for months.
yeonjun took the umbrella back—much softer already—when he was done with the jacket, holding it between your bodies to cover you both from the rain before stepping out of the canopy and walking you to his apartment. despite him trying his best to navigate the umbrella so you were protected from the cold rain, he noticed the shoulder that was further from him getting wet—the wind was too strong, and even though the umbrella was huge, you had to be closer to him to get a bit more covered. he would have easily held the umbrella over you only, going under the rain himself, but he knew you would never let him, he always had to agree with your stubbornness when it came to his well-being. 
“wrap your arm around my waist,” yeonjun said, realizing he sounded sharper than he intended. he was still upset about the way you just sat there listening to bullshit about women’s worth being measured in amount of children and how much she served her husband. he knew it didn’t make sense to be mad at you, because it wasn't your fault in the slightest, but there was something much bigger. 
you were on a date. with someone else. 
you had distanced yourself from him after the expired pregnancy test incident, not letting him in no matter how much he tried to make you talk to him, and he started shutting down too. you both had suffered for weeks like that until everything ended with some stupid text message about the hoodie you lost, asking him if it was at his place. and then, three weeks later, he found you having a date with some asshole at the cafe he started considering as a place for the two of you only. yeonjun knew it was his rule to not catch feelings, he knew he was being unfair to you by feeling that way, but he couldn’t stop the frustration spiraling inside of him.
even the way you wrapped your arm around his waist like he told you to, your hand holding the side of his jacket, didn’t help. he still put his hand over yours, interlacing fingers with yours and putting your hands together into his pocket, though—the place your hand was at was constantly under rain, and he didn’t want you to get cold, no matter how upset he was. or how much it went against any rules you seemed so determined to follow, yet failed to uphold. he was breaking them, and you were letting him—just like now, not pulling your hand away from his grasp. did you even remember there was a rule against intimate touches like this one?
were you breaking the rules on purpose too, just like he was? were you capable of breaking the most important one—the one that was about being exclusive? yeonjun’s jaw tightened as he threw a quick glance at you, when he felt your steps falter slightly for a moment. he thought that you might stumble, but instead you made a small, quick step instead of a regular one to match his stride. you did it often—not falling into step with him, but adjusting yourself to match him like it was natural for you, effortless. now, though, it seemed like you were ready to just throw it all away as something you didn’t need anymore. his throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, his grip on your hand tightening briefly before he caught himself and loosened it.
yeonjun had noticed how much you’d changed these few months before the pregnancy test, when he started changing too—you’d become softer with him, a bit more reserved, but still softer. you had also grown more obedient—not that you hadn’t been before, but now you seemed to do what he wanted or needed without him having to say anything most of the time. it was probably another way you adjusted yourself for him. but he had to be too cautious around you, holding back his own softness and tenderness sometimes, because you had developed a habit of pulling away when he was too gentle. he couldn’t get his head around you, and holding back and overthinking were tiring.
and then he had said he wouldn’t leave if you were pregnant, words about marriage slipping out on its own. his only intention was to calm you down—he wasn't lying, of course. he was ready to take responsibility, to support and love you and the baby if it came to that. but it felt like he had ruined everything. this time, though, he was sure he knew why. he knew you didn’t want children—not yet, at least—and though you two never had never discussed anything like marriage, he assumed you weren’t interested in a long-term relationship either, and he only pushed you away with his words, making you seek someone who would be able to keep ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement as it was supposed to be. 
and now? now, you were here, arm wrapped around his waist, your hand warm, nice and gentle in his, fingers interlaced. you weren’t just letting him hold you close—you were holding onto him too. you weren’t simply allowing him to hold your hand; you held it just as tight, your thumb brushing against his skin, and yeonjun wasn’t sure if you were doing it on purpose or not. you two looked like a couple, yet to him, it felt more like a cruel echo of something that could have been but was never destined to happen—he clenched his teeth, irritation bubbling in his chest at the way you played push and pull with him now. 
yeonjun could still picture your eyes when you realized he chose to stay in the cafe instead of leaving you alone with that asshole. you had looked at him like he was your saviour—as if he’d been the knight who swooped in to save the princess, despite the ‘knight’ looking like he had just woken up after thirteen hours of sleep on the couch, throwing on a jacket and shoes over the hoodie and sweatpants he was sleeping in, to grab coffee at the cafe nearby. but knights never got princesses, did they? no, that was reserved for princes. knights were just tools that came in handy when princesses needed to use someone. knights were disposable. 
was he just the lesser evil for you back there? would you have pretended he wasn’t there if your date hadn’t turned out to be such a creep? part of him was convinced you would have, despite the rational part of his brain trying to make him realize it wasn’t like you at all. why would you follow him to his place instead of asking him to get you to the nearest subway station? why would you hold his hand like this? why would you seem so relaxed beside him now? because she wants to toy with me some more, yeonjun thought bitterly, yanking your hands out of his pocket and letting go of yours. 
you looked up at him, surprised, already missing the warmth of his touch—the short walk hadn’t been enough for that warmth to burn itself into your skin the way you needed it to, but if he thought it was enough… you held yourself back from reaching for his hand again—he was clearly upset with you, and you didn't want to play with fire. you weren't sure why he would bring you here then, though. no, it was obvious he just didn't want to cause a scene outside, but was there any point in in trying to talk things through if the end result was the same—breaking up… whatever you had?
yeonjun yanked the front door of the building open, following you right behind to hold the umbrella over you until you were safely inside, shielded from the rain. he shook the raindrops off harshly, closing the umbrella and standing a few feet away from you, facing the elevators after checking that you had pressed the button. he turned his head slightly, avoiding even a glance at you from the corner of his eyes—it was too painful and too irritating at the same time. the silence hung heavily, and he exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when the elevator doors opened with a quiet ‘ding’. he stepped aside to let you enter first, following after and pressing the button for his floor, turning his back to you immediately. 
you thought nothing could make an elevator ride with yeonjun longer and more unbearable than wanting to have your hands all over each other already, but having to limit yourselves to subtle touches because of the elevator cameras. but now, awkwardness and yeonjun's simmering anger stretched the seconds into eternity. you pressed yourself into the corner, silently wishing it'd just swallow you, your eyes trailing yeonjun standing before the doors, refusing to look at you. your gaze fell to the nape of his neck—his hair was so short there now… he had kept the bangs, and had shortened hair on top of his head just a bit—it still covered his temples, but you could see hair there was just as short when he ran his fingers through it, which he did often. tips of your fingers itched to touch it, but you held back—you couldn't do things like that anymore.
the little screen finally displayed yeonjun's floor number, and you moved forward at the same time as he stepped aside to give you room to leave the elevator. the ‘ladies first’ gesture would have been flattering if it wasn't for his step being a little too big, as if he was trying to keep as much distance as the small space allowed. it hurt, even though his intentions to stay away from you were obvious by the way he was keeping his distance in the hall. you still couldn’t understand why he brought you here—you could as well finish everything in ugly way through messages, there was no need to see each other’s faces.
you exited the elevator, stepping aside to let yeonjun go first—you no longer had the keys, they were left dangling on the key rack in his apartment some time before the last conversation. you weren’t sure why you had done it, though—he had never made you feel unwelcome there, but once again, you had done lots of stupid things lately, once that felt right at the time, but grew increasingly stupid with every second you thought about it, so you decided to simply stop thinking about everything you did. childish? pretty much, but compared to watching yourself destroy everything with your own hands, it felt like the lesser evil.
yeonjun opened the door, letting you step inside first, and locked it behind you. he placed the umbrella in its stand and crouched down to undo his shoes, still not saying a word to you. his mind was restless, every glance at you sinking another dagger into his chest and fueling his anger. you stood before him, your legs right in front of his eyes, your short sundress—one of his favourites, the one you started wearing more often after he told you he loved the way it looked on you—barely covering any skin, especially from his current angle. he jerked his head downward, jaw tightening. his favourite dress… on a date… in his favourite cafe… with some misogynistic asshole. 
yeonjun stood up and made a few steps further into the apartment, his socks slipping slightly against the floor. he shrugged off his damp jacket carelessly, hanging it on the hook, before finally turning to look at you. his gaze caught the mirror on the inside of the door over your shoulder though, and he double-checked his reflection instinctively. he had cut his hair just a few days ago and still couldn’t get used to the way he looked. his own reflection felt like a stranger, whenever he saw it with the corner of his eyes. there was no long hair he had been growing out for a year anymore. he decided to go back to the undercut he had as his go-to hairstyle for a few years before meeting you. his hair already started growing out when you met, and somehow, when you stayed in his life as his friend with benefits he let it keep growing, trimming it from time to time a bit. 
and when you left… yeonjun wasn’t sure why he had cut it. maybe it was an attempt to return the person he had been before meeting you—someone less broken, less hollow, no matter how stupid it sounded if he thought about it for more than a minute. not even because his hairstyle and your presence hadn’t been the only things different from the past—too many things had changed this year—but because it’d never be enough to erase every reminder of you from his life, which had been the real reason of him cutting his hair off, even though he refused to admit it to himself even. he hadn’t even done anything else, cutting his hair was the only thing that he had done, because he couldn’t get rid of other little things that reminded him of you. and ridiculously enough, the undercut became another reminder—he thought of you whenever he saw his reflection or touched his hair. 
yeonjun tore his gaze away from the mirror, finally looking at you. you were standing near the door, your jacket and shoes still on, leaving faint, wet marks on the doormat, your hands fidgeting with the clasp of your purse. you looked so small, so vulnerable, like someone who needed to be protected every moment of their life. he couldn’t believe you had gone on a date with a stranger—with some jerk, who just saw you—or any woman—as an incubator, but the incubator had to be a virgin, of course, of course. it sounded ridiculous and disgusting even in his own head, and yet you had been sitting there, listening to all that bullshit, like it was completely fine. 
“why didn’t you say anything?” the words came out bitter and sharp, yeonjun wasn’t even going to ask that—he knew why and he knew it wasn’t your fault, but the words left his mouth before he could think about it. his fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms as he tried to keep his voice steady, though he knew it was a losing battle. “back there. to that asshole.” 
you frowned, looking up at him in confusion. he knew why you hadn’t said anything, why you hadn’t done anything. he had stayed and stepped in exactly because he knew. did he want you to say it out loud? to admit that you had been absolutely helpless and would have had to ask the cashier for help if things escalated? to confess that you would have kept listening to all that misogynistic trash if he hadn’t dragged you out? 
“because i didn’t know what to say,” you responded quietly, your nails biting into your palms. “if it wasn’t for you—”
something snapped in yeonjun at the sound of your voice after three weeks of only hearing it in old voice messages. he appeared before you in just a few swift steps, pressing your back into the mirror on the inside of the front door with one smooth motion—you couldn't even comprehend what happened until you felt a sharp bite on the side of your neck and his cold hand, the one that had been holding the umbrella, running up your thigh, leaving faint red lines with nails and lifting the skirt of your sundress before delivering a hard, sharp slap to your skin. you yelped and jerked, never expecting it, arms wrapping around his shoulders, but he only pressed you harder into the front door with his body, thigh pushing between your legs, and his second hand finding its place on your breast, kneading it roughly.
it was far from the first time something similar happened—yeonjun had gone through a stressful period when you both decided to try the ‘friends with benefits’ agreement, and you found yourself with your face pressed against a random surface as he pounded you into it until your legs were sore, quite often. the front door too, of course—it had been a favourite of his in the beginning, chosen for its speed and convenience. but that was the thing—in the beginning. later, you admitted it was far from your favourite place—the mirror was uncomfortably cold at first and then weirdly warm under your cheek, chest or shoulder blades, and it made a weird screeching sound whenever your skin rubbed against it, and you couldn't stop thinking about people passing by. it had been the last time you had sex or even made out there. until now.
yeonjun didn't leave a small gentle kiss over the bite on your neck too, his hand didn't linger to soothe the slapped skin of your thigh, even for a moment. he jerked your skirt up too sharply, cursing at the way it got in the way between his thigh and your crotch, and when he finally managed to pull it high enough to his liking, he slapped your thigh once again to silently command you to lift your leg over his waist—instead of wrapping his fingers around your thigh and lifting it himself like he had started doing not so long ago. you loved when he was like that back then, loved all of it, but now, compared to the way you knew he could be with you, it was almost devastating. 
deep inside you hoped to have sex with him just one last time before your paths parted for good, but this… this wasn’t what you expected, not what you wanted. you didn’t want to feel like you were back to square one, no matter how hot he looked now or had been in the beginning, because back then you were nothing to each other—except ‘friends with benefits’. yeonjun meant much more for you now, and deep down, you hoped you had grown to mean more to him too, but perhaps you didn’t know him well enough to know what his mixed signals meant. 
yeonjun cursed breathlessly into the skin of your shoulder, and it was the first time since he pushed you into the mirror that he allowed himself to touch your skin with his lips alone, without using his teeth. just that simple gesture made him dizzy—being tender with you again. he had another problem, though—no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't seem to get fully hard. yeonjun had no idea why—you finally were next to him, your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, as he marked you like it was the last time— it was, he realized. it was the last time, and he couldn’t even fuck you properly so you wouldn’t think of anyone else no matter how much other men tried to please you. it irritated him even more, but he hoped his thigh would suffice—he had always been able to make you cum on it easily. 
you heard another curse from him, barely heard over your racing thoughts. you were far from understanding the reason behind it—probably something about you again. was it better than nothing? better than just having an awkward conversation about ending the arrangement and never seeing each other ever again? never— you couldn’t hold back the sniffle, your nose starting to burn as tears welled up in your eyes. you put your palms on yeonjun’s shoulders. no. you didn’t want to remember your last encounter like this, because you remembered the way your sexual encounters ended in the very beginning. one of you—the one who was a ‘guest’—would dress up in silence, get a taxi for themselves and leave the apartment, shutting the door for the other one to lock later. that didn’t last long, but if he was back to the very beginning… you knew you wouldn’t be able to leave his bed. 
another quiet sniffle left you, as you tried to push yeonjun away by his shoulders. “yeonjun, please,” your voice was too quiet, too small—you weren’t even sure if he had heard you, and even if he did, he might misinterpret it as you asking for more, because he pressed you harder into the mirror, rubbing his thigh against your crotch. “jjun, s-stop,” you sobbed out, fingers digging into the fabric of his hoodie, silently begging him to put an end to this confusing, heart-wrenching encounter.
yeonjun froze at the nickname said like that—with a sob—his body tense. had he hurt you?.. had he ruined everything? of course, he did, what a failure he was. he failed himself, but it didn’t matter because he failed you so much more. “i’m sorry, baby,” yeonjun whispered into your skin one last time before moving away and turning his back to you. he couldn’t look at you—not now, not like this. he didn’t deserve to. he was glad you stopped him before he went too far, because he knew he’d break if he continued, but he was too stubborn to stop on his own. to end everything himself too. 
you stood frozen behind him, his absence hitting you like a blow despite you being the one who pushed him away, a gaping hole replaced his presence. it wasn’t just your body that felt cold; it seeped into your skin, into your bones. you’d never felt so empty in your life. it wasn’t fair. none of this was fair. was that it? the end? were you supposed to turn around, open the door, and leave, acting like nothing had ever happened? was that what yeonjun expected you to do? not even a ‘goodbye’?.. you stared at his back, not being able to believe he wouldn’t turn around to at least look at you one last time. 
but even with all the confusion and insecurity, you didn’t want to leave. the thought of walking out that door, of leaving him behind, felt like tearing a piece of yourself away. you weren’t ready to let go, weren’t ready to forget everything. the only thing that was holding you back from telling him it was certainty that yeonjun wanted you to leave, but maybe—just maybe—there was a tiny possibility that he wanted you to stay? maybe finding someone else for this kind of relationship was too bothersome for his busy life? maybe you could push your feelings away?
yeonjun’s mind raced just as much, each second of silence stretching unbearably long. the absence of any sound from you was deafening. were you going to leave? why hadn’t you left already if you wanted to, so he could mourn his heart in peace? maybe you didn’t want to— he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. stop being an idiot, yeonjun. of course, she does. he wanted to turn around and tell you that he didn’t want you to leave, that he didn’t want it to end, wanted to promise you to keep everything in the ‘friends with benefits’ limits, never breaking any rules ever again. but words stuck in his throat, weighed down by the fear of rejection, of hearing you say out loud that you didn’t want him anymore.
his heart shattered when he heard the sound of the door being unlocked. this was finally it—the moment he’d feared. you pulled the door handle down, and… and he didn’t hear the door open. you didn’t open the door, but you didn’t let go of the handle either, frozen right before the final step. you knew he wouldn’t go after you—if you left now, it would be the end. you looked down at your fingers wrapped around the shiny metal. no. it was unfair, it was wrong—too many things you left unsaid, and he could be the same. you tried to think for him, assume what he wanted, and it was wrong. and even if he  just laughed in your face, it wouldn’t make your heartbreak much worse anyway. 
you let go of the door handle, letting it click back into place, and turned to yeonjun. he didn’t look back, didn’t turn around, but you noticed he was even more tense than before—probably not knowing what to expect. you cleared your throat, but it didn’t help, because your small “is this the end?” was barely audible, all the confidence you’d mastered just a few seconds ago disappearing the moment you opened your mouth to ask something that felt like it’d seal your fate.
but yeonjun heard it, of course, he did. he’d been waiting to hear your voice from the moment he turned away. he had to almost force himself to shut his damn mouth before he said ‘yes’, thinking it'd be best for you to stay away from someone as broken as him. you deserved to hear an honest response, even if your reaction to it broke his heart. yeonjun knew he had to stop deciding what was best for you—you were an adult, capable of making your own mistakes. if you let him stay in your life, he would simply help you deal with the consequences if you needed it. and maybe staying with him wasn’t even a mistake in the first place. 
yeonjun turned around and it felt like he hadn’t seen you for the whole eternity. he knew you hadn't left, but seeing you there… he wanted nothing more than to hold you and never let go. but he couldn’t. and he couldn’t say the truth openly either—he was afraid to influence your decision if he said he didn’t want it to end, so he tried to phrase it differently. “if you want to,” yeonjun knew it wasn’t his best, far from one actually, but it was better than anything he could come up with—much better than ‘yes, it is’. you didn’t reply, though, staring at him like your head was completely empty, panic rising in your expression. yeonjun swallowed thickly. “do you want to leave?” he asked, trying to help you.
the answer was so simple, just two letters—’no’. but somehow, every little thing about that short word was so complicated, and it was stuck on your tongue, because just ‘no’ wouldn’t be enough to explain everything. but yeonjun was waiting, and even though he tried his best not to show how anxious he was to hear your answer, you could tell he was. “i don’t know,” the words left your mouth before you could think them through. it was a lie, a goddamn lie. you knew! you knew you didn’t want to leave, why in the world would you say you didn’t? 
yeonjun watched the whole kaleidoscope of emotions on your face, and none of them were positive. you looked on the verge of tears even. this was the moment he realized he had changed, because the storm in his heart had finally calmed, and he knew everything he needed to know. it wasn’t even because your face had told him that your words weren’t what you actually meant, but because in the past, he’d have gotten frustrated, angry even because it wasn’t a clear ‘no’. but now? now, even if you really didn’t know, he could only feel a wave of calmness wash over him, because he couldn’t see it as anything except ‘not a yes’. 
you saw the tension leave yeonjun’s body—his posture relaxed and his face softened—and that’s when you realized you’d fucked up bad. he didn’t like unclear answers, always trying to guide you to give him a certain one. unsure about trying something new? he’d say he’d start slowly until you got your head around it and told him explicit yes or no. confused about your feelings? he’d listen to your unstructured stream of thoughts, gently guiding it when you got lost, until you could give him an answer. but now? now he was probably too tired of your shit to do any of that. 
yeonjun approached you in a few huge steps, towering over you—you felt smaller than you actually were, looking at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to expect. was he going to open the door and tell you to get out? you pressed yourself against it, palms flat on the cool surface of the mirror you hated touching, the uncomfortable feeling only worsening the anxiety in your chest. he raised his hand and you turned your head slowly to follow the movement with your eyes, your insides twisting in anxiety—you should have left instead of asking that stupid question, because maybe there could’ve been a chance to start over a few months from now, but you had ruined it with that stupid ‘i don’t know’.
you looked adorable when you were scared, yeonjun realized. a flicker of a smirk crossed his mind—maybe he should introduce you to some fear play. he slapped himself mentally—he was so relieved that you hadn’t left, that his mind started wandering, and it clearly wasn’t time for that. his hand reached for the lock, fingers curling around it, and he turned it slowly, the click loud in the tense air. his gaze stayed fixed on your face—he wanted to see your reaction. maybe he was petty, but only a little, and you weren’t entirely innocent either. 
and he was right to do it. your eyes shot up to meet his the second you heard the lock engage, surprise and disbelief flickering across your face, your gaze darted between his eyes as if trying to find cruel mockery in them, but there was none. instead, yeonjun took a small step back from you, his fingers brushing the back of your hand so feathery, that it could’ve been easily mistaken for an accident, but it wasn’t one. he needed at least a little touch, even that one grounding him, giving him strength to hold up until he could hold you in his arms properly—somehow, he was certain that’s how the day would end. 
“let’s go,” he said softly, choosing his tone carefully to avoid sounding harsh or scolding—adding to your anxiety was the last thing he wanted to do. “i’ll make us tea, and we will talk.”
you nodded hesitantly, watching his back as yeonjun left to the kitchen. it was a good sign, wasn’t it?.. you felt glued to the door, needing all your strength to peel yourself away. slowly, you removed your jacket, still unsure if he truly hadn’t told you to leave. your hands shook as you hung it on an empty hook beside his jackets, your gaze drifted to the key rack—the spare keys you had for months still dangling where you put them. you sat on the bench to undo your shoes, throwing a quick glance toward the kitchen through the archway—you couldn't see yeonjun, but you could hear the sound of cabinets opening and closing, the kettle filling with water and other little things. the noises brought comfort, feeling like home. 
your legs felt like jelly as you made your way to the bar stool behind him, your nails tapping nervously on the polished surface of the bar table . yeonjun sent you a little smile over his shoulder before turning back and continuing whatever he was doing. you assumed he was choosing which tea to make for you, and you decided not to interfere—he knew your favourites. and you were too awkward to tell him anything too, even just asking for a specific kind of tea felt… out of place.  
yeonjun opened a cabinet to grab a cup for you, and your eyes landed on all the familiar dishes—your cups, plates, and bowls still sat neatly alongside his. he hadn’t put them away when you stopped coming over all those weeks ago. you looked around the kitchen and the living room—everything still looked like you were living there. you hadn’t noticed it in the hallway, too shaken to pay any attention to it, but now you realized he kept a few hooks empty for your outerwear and bags, the spot you always took on the shoe rack wasn’t taken either, and even the spare keys to his apartment still had your keychain on them. 
your gaze stopped on the fridge, colourful letters bright on the glassy black surface. you couldn’t believe it still was there—’yeonjun dummy <3’, the playful phrase you made two or three months ago with letter magnets he bought for his little nephew—sometimes yeonjun’s cousin needed him to look after the boy and dropped the baby off at his place, and yeonjun wanted to be the best uncle ever, teaching the child all the little things like colours, animals and letters. you had been helping too sometimes, and you realized now how strange it probably looked—helping him play house with a toddler as though the two of you were a family. you shook your head trying to get rid of the thoughts. your gaze drifted lower—yeonjun’s response was still there too—’you too :p’.
so many little things stayed the same despite your absence, all of them so tiny you could barely notice unless you were looking for them, yet it felt like you could move in right now, live here for a month and wouldn’t lack a thing, because yeonjun had kept everything just as it was when you were still there. he either didn’t care to change it, or… your apartment stayed the same too—he never stayed at yours for too long, but his tableware was still next to yours, his toothbrush and toothpaste still were in the cup with yours, his shampoo and shower gel sat on the shower rack with other things that belonged to him. looking at those reminders of him hurt, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put them away. deep inside, you had hoped he would still come and stay at your place some day, and maybe he kept everything as it was because…
“i don’t want to, but if you want me to, i will,” you blurted out before you could overthink it. if you didn’t say it now, while your feelings were on the surface and at their peak, you would probably never say it.
yeonjun looked at you over his shoulder, confused. you didn't want to… drink tea?.. it wasn’t a problem, he assumed, still not really understanding why you would drink tea just because he wanted you to. he could make you a coffee. or a milkshake, or a smoothie, or just give you water. or he still had almost every one of your favourite drinks in his fridge—and out of it too, in case you didn’t want to drink anything cold. he glanced at the almost-finished tea on the counter in front of him. were you worried that he’d already made it, but now you wanted something else? he could drink it himself… he opened his mouth to ask what you wanted to drink instead, or maybe eat, but you clarified yourself.
“to leave,” you said, looking down at your fingers as you fidgeted nervously. “i don’t want to leave, but if you want me to, i will,” you repeated,  your voice grew quieter with every word, much less confident than it had been at the start—not that it was confident to begin with. you didn’t want to leave, didn’t want him to tell you to go, but if he thought it was better for him, you’d disappear from his life as if you had never been part of it.
yeonjun, on the other hand, felt warmth spreading through his whole body. he was one step away from grinning like a fool, smile bloomed on his face despite himself. yes, he had figured out you didn’t want to leave when you looked like you made the biggest mistake of your life by saying that you didn’t know if you wanted to leave or not. but hearing you say it out loud was completely different. “i don’t,” he said, turning to you with a smile, two cups of tea in his hands. “don’t want you to leave.”
you nodded slowly, watching him take a seat across from you and place your cup in front you. you still had a hard time believing he wanted you to stay. when you said you didn’t want to leave, you meant his life, not his apartment. did he understand what you meant? did he mean the same?.. you reached out to wrap your hands around the cup but jerked them back before touching it. you looked up at yeonjun, ashamed. “i haven’t washed my hands. can i… use the bathroom?” 
he tilted his head. you’d particularly lived here for some periods, why would you ask him something like that?.. “of course, you can,” yeonjun said like it was the most obvious thing—because it was. “there’s a hand soap too,” he gestured toward the kitchen sink, “along with a hand towel. as you know,” he chuckled, emphasising the last words. “feel at home, okay? nothing has changed.” he watched you get up with a quiet ‘okay’ and come up to the sink. yeonjun turned in his seat, watching you with a soft smile on his face. “but you can use bathroom if you need it for—”
“yeonjun!” you exclaimed, cutting him off and making him laugh—you thought you had missed that sound, but now you realized ‘miss’ didn’t cover it—your life just wasn't full without it. “i only need to wash my hands!” 
he replied with a teasing ‘mhm’, a smile wide on his face, and you couldn't help but smile back. the little light-hearted exchange made you relax a little—it reminded you both that despite the mess, you were still the same. you just weren't sure if ‘the mess’ had started three weeks ago or ten months ago, and the conversation that would clarify it was still waiting ahead. you bit your lip at the thought, sitting back down and wrapping fingers around the cup. 
yeonjun became serious too. he knew he'd have to be the one carrying the conversation, because his thoughts and feelings were clear and organized—he’d had three weeks to analyze everything, and your words today cleared the last fog, putting the final misplaced pieces in their places. you, on the other hand… you still looked confused, even after admitting you didn't want to leave and him saying he didn't want you to leave either. and with your habit of sweeping the worst of your feelings and thoughts under the rug and pretending they never existed, unless he lifted the rug himself, telling you to clean up and helping you with it… he assumed how exactly these three weeks had passed for you.
“do you mind if we focus on you at first?” yeonjun asked, his voice as soft as possible, as though speaking to a child or a frightened animal—he didn't want you to feel like he was scolding you for anything, no matter how much it hurt him. it was his fault too—he was the one who had drawn the line between you two with his stupid rules, resulting in you not being able to come to him when the thing burdening you was about him. the rules made sense at first, but he should’ve blurred them when he began suspecting you were slowly catching feelings, and discarded them completely when he realized he was catching feelings himself. he hadn’t, and it was a miracle you were sitting there in front of him now.
you shook your head, giving him all the control. not only did you feel guilty enough to think you had no right to set the rules, but you were also lost—unsure of what to say, where to start, or what he wanted to know the most. you decided to let him lead you through it, answering his questions to the best of your capability and honesty. you only hoped he wouldn't start with something like ‘what do you feel for me’ or anything similar, because you knew you wouldn't be able to give him an answer—you barely admitted it to yourself, saying it out loud… to him…
yeonjun smiled. “okay. but be honest, please.” he waited for your nod before continuing. he prayed he wouldn't sound like he was interrogating you. “it was a date, right? not just a friendly meeting?” he cursed internally—he sounded exactly like he was interrogating you. now he prayed you wouldn't see it that way, because it wasn’t meant to be an interrogation—he just needed to know what you were looking for when you went on the date. 
you nodded, eyes glued to the cup in your hands. you felt ashamed—like a cheater, for god's sake. you opened your mouth to explain, but found your throat dry. you took a tiny sip—perfect strength, perfect sweetness, perfect temperature. how could you do something like this to someone who cared about you so much? you were a failure… you swallowed thickly. “yes. i met him on tinder a few days ago,” you mumbled quietly, too ashamed to look him in the eyes. “i think i swiped right on him accidentally…”
yeonjun nodded, his eyes trailing to your fingers, which were tapping nervously on the cup. he knew the tea would be cold long before you finished it, he’d made it for you to give you something to busy your hands with, somewhere to look when you couldn’t look at him. his gaze returned to your face. good thing? the guy was an accident. bad thing? you were on tinder. he bit his lip, trying to phrase the next question. he assumed you were looking for another ‘friend with benefits’, but he couldn't just ask you outright. the question would be far more prying than the previous one. “why did you decide to go on tinder? decided to meet someone, i mean.” 
you looked up at him quickly before staring into the cup again. the full answer would be long—you would have to start with the pregnancy test and touch on too many sensitive topics you weren't ready to confront yet. maybe a shorter version would suffice?.. “i realized i should… settle down,” you said quietly. “i don't exactly mean marriage or—all the more so—children, but…,” you exhaled sharply—how to phrase it without insulting him and what you had? ‘serious’? ‘real’? ‘something that has a future’? you bit your lip. “committed relationship.”
it felt like a punch to the gut for yeonjun—it wasn't what he expected. he thought he’d scared you away by promising to be with you, promising something real, and you didn't need it, he assumed that you were looking for sex without strings attached. it made sense—the perfect sense—until it turned out to be exactly opposite. you wanted something real, something serious—not just sex here and there—but you wanted it with someone else, not him. what are you doing here now, then? he thought bitterly, a lump forming in his throat, his fingers digging into his own cup. he didn't know how to ask you why it couldn't be him, nor was he sure he was ready to hear the answer. 
you bit your lip harder at his silence, realizing that in the end you had insulted him. everything felt so difficult, every small thing adding layers of complication to an already overwhelming situation. you took a deep breath—there was nothing left to lose. it was impossible to make things worse—they were already at their lowest. you might as well finish what you started. “when the—” you coughed, your throat dry again, and took a sip, though you knew it wouldn't make your voice any better. “when the test turned out to be false positive, i realized that… what we had was… dangerous. risky. it turned out to be false, but what if one day…,” you shook your head. “i realized it'd be safer in… a proper relationship. and i can't have it with you,” you finished quietly. 
yeonjun wondered where that cruelty came from, because you’d driven a knife into his heart earlier, and now, with these words, you twisted it . he tried to wet his lips, but his tongue was just as dry. why were you like that? why hadn't you just left? why had you stayed—to hurt him more? but most importantly, why couldn't you have that with him. “why?” he asked, his voice hoarse, the word leaving his lips before he could think about it. he wasn't even sure what he wanted to know. everything, maybe? he wanted to look at you, but he couldn't, his eyes glued to his trembling hands—why in the world would he get his hopes up?
you felt stupid—not for what you had said already, but for what you were about to say. suddenly, the reason behind everything seemed so small, insignificant and utterly foolish. you would think it was impossible to make everything worse, but you clearly did exactly that right after thinking the very same thing just a minute ago. you wished you weren't such a disaster, ruining everything you touched. but you had to answer; he had asked you to be honest. “the rule,” you whispered, shutting your eyes in shame.
“the rule—” yeonjun repeated involuntarily, even quieter, as if unsure whether he’d heard you right. but he had, and he almost growled at the realization. the fucking rule—he clenched his hand around the cup holding himself back from hurling it into the wall. he ran his fingers through his hair, tugging it at the roots in frustration. one fucking rule—he almost slapped himself. calm the fuck down, yeonjun, he growled at himself mentally. he’d assumed again, he’d thought of the rule that would be the best, that would mean happy ending, but you hadn’t specified which rule—there were a few. ‘strictly exclusive’ could be the reason too. what if you wanted an open relationship? he could never share you with anyone. “which?” he choked out, his hand gripping the cup harder.
you looked up at him and flinched—yeonjun looked furious. his hair was messy, his jaw clenched tightly, his fingers digging into the cup to the point of becoming white at the tips. and the way he looked at you… like you were the reason for all his anger. if eyes could kill… but you were the reason. and you could only do one thing now—answer. “the ‘no feelings’ one,” you whispered, your own hands tightening around the cup. but unlike yeonjun, you weren't angry—you were terrified, because you knew where this conversation was heading, and it would inevitably end with a confession.
yeonjun decided to stop thinking altogether. he couldn't keep hurting himself by getting his hopes up anymore—he didn't even believe your answer meant ‘i have feelings for you, but i'm scared to go against the rule’. he was sure there was something he’d overlooked because he was too fucking full of hope and it made him dumb. he cleared his throat. “if it wasn't for the rule, would you consider a serious relationship with me?” it felt like he’d poured the last of his strength into the question. just answer it and let me go to bed. or get drunk. just don't complicate it, i beg you. 
the word ‘yes’ refused to leave your lips. not because you weren't sure or the answer was ‘no’—you were sure and the answer was undoubtedly ‘yes’. but as you looked at yeonjun, his gaze barely focused and his whole demeanor so, so tired, you hesitated. was that what he wanted to hear? you didn’t know anything anymore. “would you?”
you’re deciding to complicate it after all, yeonjun thought bitterly, feeling the weight of exhaustion slowly creeping over him. he couldn't do it anymore. this emotional rollercoaster had drained him completely, leaving him beyond exhausted in every way. fuck it, he thought. i'll be a man. he was just too tired for another round of mental gymnastics. “yes.”
you froze. ‘yes’? he said ‘yes’? was he too tired to understand the question? should you ask another time but clarify it? should you— fuck it. no, just fuck it. you’d play dumb later if needed. “me too.” 
yeonjun exhaled unevenly, resting his forehead on his palm. he couldn’t believe your answer, couldn’t believe this torture was finally over, and couldn’t believe he was so fucking drained, that he couldn’t even react properly to the fact that the woman he wanted to build a serious relationship with, wanted the same. he was a failure, a disappointment, and so many other things, none of them good. but if you stayed with him after what he was about to say, he would ask you to marry him on the spot. “we’re official, okay? i’ll…” he ran his fingers through his hair again. “i’ll make it up for you later. i promise,” he mumbled.
you nodded, tired too. you knew what he felt, because you felt the same when three more pregnancy tests had come back negative—emptiness, disbelief and bone-deep fatigue. it had felt like your world was so close to crashing down, that it started slowly breaking before anything real had even begun, and all the strength you had in yourself had been spent on trying not to let it break so early, so when it had turned out that nothing was going to be ruined, the damage—even the small one—was already done, and in addition to that you couldn’t even be happy about it, because it felt like all of your life force left your body long ago.
except, unlike him, you had someone to hold you through it all. yeonjun held you when you thought your world was burning to ashes and when you barely had any strength to sit up after knowing your world would be fine. but for him, you’d only added to his exhaustion and to the weight he carried—your awkwardness, your anxiety, your inability to think before speaking. and even when you did think, it never seemed to help. but he still wanted you, and you wouldn’t let your overthinking brain convince you otherwise. 
yeonjun stood and wrapped his fingers around your wrist, pulling you towards the bedroom. the barely touched tea forgotten on the bar table, as he guided you through the apartment. he wasn’t sure if you nodded—he’d seen it with the corner of his eye, though, maybe he was mistaken because he was too tired, but he didn’t care because you followed him to the bed without hesitation, only pausing at the edge of it when he dropped onto the mattress, groaning at the pleasant feeling of stretching his limbs and letting his body finally relax. still, he had to open his eyes to look at you, when he realized you hadn’t joined him. 
you hesitated. the bed was unmade and yeonjun was still wearing the sweatpants and hoodie he’d had on outside earlier, but you weren't sure about lying there right in your sundress. it wasn’t a big deal in the past—mostly because usually you both were quick to undress each other, kicking the bed cover away on the floor—but a three week long break had left you a bit uncertain about even the simplest rules of the apartment. “i wore the dress outside…” you trailed off, glancing at him nervously.
yeonjun chuckled breathlessly—you were so cute, even if you were being slightly annoying when all he wanted was to hold you already. he wouldn’t even care if you wore a coat and boots right now. still, he already felt so much better, lighter, anticipating finally holding you and refusing to let you go, exhaustion melting away bit by bit. he propped himself up on his elbow and held out his hand for you. “i’ll undress both of us and make the bed later, after a little nap,” he murmured and moved closer to you, taking your hand in his and tugging it gently. “come here, baby. i missed you so much.”
you giggled softly—sound that felt foreign after weeks of not having any positive emotions or feelings—crawling toward him, knees sinking into the soft cloud-like mattress, as he held your hand, his hand firm, but tender, holding you up so you didn’t fall. you hovered over him, trying to suppress more silly giggles at the sight of his tired face having the same happy, silly smile. by all logic, you were supposed to be the one holding him, yet it felt like he wanted to hold you. you giggled again at the thought—he was so ridiculous. 
and you were right—yeonjun turned onto his back and gently tugged your hand, silently telling you to lie down beside him. his other hand unzipped the hoodie, and he slapped his chest over the tank top a few times, wordlessly showing you where to rest your head. you obliged happily, the whole world fading away the moment your cheek pressed against his firm chest and his arms wrapped securely around you. nothing else mattered anymore—not when you could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feel the soft rise and fall of his breathing against the top of your head, and be held in a way that made one thing clear—he wasn’t going to let you go.
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hasufin · 16 hours ago
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In complete seriousness... I can't say about the UK, but in the USA the majority of vehicular violations - traffic tickets, parking violations, &c, are not there for the purpose of improving public safety or assuring parking availability. They exist as a non-taxation form of revenue. As such, they're set at an amount such that it's not enough to bother fighting, but as much as the municipality can bilk from you.
For example, a few months back I got a ticket for running a red light. The thing is, I didn't run the red light: I had executed a right turn on red, which was legal at that intersection. Indeed, the evidence they attached with the ticket clearly showed this.
However there is a process for disputing such a ticket. And doing so would have required a notary public to take my affidavit that I had been driving the vehicle (it was my spouse's vehicle and the ticket came in their name), and I would have had to show up in court and pay some court fees in order to dispute the ticket. Between the notary and the court fees, I would have had to pay about $250 to dispute a $50 ticket. And my best case scenario for this would be dismissal of the ticket with me still being out $250. Obviously, I paid the fine, even though it was a false charge. This is intentional; they want money, not justice.
So, by being willing to pester them, he demonstrated they would not be getting the money. And that's frankly enough for them to give up, because it was never about making sure a space was open for taxis.
stop what you’re doing and watch this
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roseyodditea · 2 days ago
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Sneak a Quick Kiss - Harumasa x gn!Reader
Summary -> 1.6k words. Established relationship. 2 moments where Harumasa remembers you have to hide your relationship, and 1 when he decides he's had enough.
Warnings -> A 'lil suggestive in the middle (marked and optional)
A/N -> I'll be honest, I didn't expect to like writing as much as I do and I've been getting more support than I ever thought I would. Thank you :)
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Image taken from ZZZ Wiki
— Close Call #1 —
You looked out of the window into the H.A.N.D Headquarters Plaza, watching people walk leisurely. You were in an empty meeting room, one of the many shoved in a forgotten corner of the large office building. This meeting room was often forgotten about, which just made it perfect for your purpose. The purpose that Asaba Harumasa was currently late to. You sat down on one of the chairs, spreading the folder of paperwork, figuring you might as well do work instead of letting the folder be just a quick excuse to anyone curious of the meeting between you and Harumasa. 
You were analyzing a document heavy with black bars of redaction, holding up the paper to the light to read the name of the hollow that was hidden under the dark ink, Melinoe. You bite back a small giggle, realizing that Harumasa definitely shouldn’t have told you about it on your last secret date night. You continue on your data analysis work, still waiting for the very late man. You two had started this little routine over a month ago, a weekly (sometimes happening even two to four times a week) recurring meeting disguised as a debriefing of Section 6’s hollow data. The meeting's true purpose was known to no one, and you hoped to keep it that way.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door closing, familiar arms draping over your shoulder, quick playful kisses being pepper across your cheeks. “Hey, darling~” Harumasa placed one more exaggerated kiss on your cheek before hiding his face in your hair. 
“You’re late.” You chide lightly, leaning back in the chair.
Harumasa huffed and let go of you, moving to instead sit on the table in the room, shoving aside some of the work you were doing. “Yanagi caused a meeting to run late despite both me and Miyabi wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.”
You stood up, moving to stand in front of him, a familiar hug playing out as you leaned your head on his shoulder, his arms resting securely on your lower back. “You’re still late. You’ll pay for that.”
“Will I now?” He said, his tone light and teasing, his hands sliding down your sides before he hoists you up on the table with him, your thighs straddling his lap. “What’s your price?”
“You have to host a dinner and movie night at your place, meaning you have to clean your apartment.” You giggle, leaning in a bit.
“Highway robbery, absolutely unfair price, what has the world come to?” He mutters back playfully before sealing your lips in a kiss. It was slow and patient, one of his hands cupping your cheek sweetly, the other on your lower back, keeping you close in his safe grasp. 
The sound of footsteps causes the kiss to break unceremoniously, you crawling off his lap immediately, moving quickly to sit in front of the papers you had set out, Harumasa scrambling to snatch up one of the papers to look busy as the door swung open, a janitor looking up surprised to see people in this forgotten about meeting room. 
“Oh sorry, are we in the way?”
— Close Call #2 —
(A/N) -> Make out scene contained betwixt the asterisks, feel free to skip if that's not your thing. Mwah mwah kissing, you get it.
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Adrenaline pumped through Harumasa’s veins after a successful investigation in Melinoe, another large target successfully taken down. In this hyped up state, a lot of Harumasa’s rational thoughts when it came to you flew right out of the window, which was why you were currently pushed up against the wall of the parking garage outside of the H.A.N.D headquarters. You didn’t even care that the rough bricks of the wall were clinging to your clothes and your hair, how could you care when there were feverish touches and kisses being scattered across your body. 
Half gloved hands sliding up under the bottom of your shirt, tracing over your skin, desperately lips begging for more, wanting to celebrate this win with you. You haphazardly shoved off his bow and quiver, the sound of them clattering to the pavement beneath your feet not even reaching your ears, one of your hands moving to his tie, pulling and trying to loosen it in the heat of a moment. Harumasa didn't even care his beloved weapon was on the ground, instead moving to press his body even close, one his thighs moving between yours, wanting to be impossibly closer.
***********************
The sound of an “Enh-na!” caused the two of you to pull away from each other harshly with a pant, Harumasa looking down at the source of the sound. 
Agent Gulliver stared blankly, just holding up paperwork to you, the data analyst. His round eyes were unblinking, seemingly unaware of the situation he had just stumbled into. You and Harumasa were quiet for a few seconds before you reached out. “Uh… thank you, Agent Gulliver.” The bangboo saluted as you took it and walked off. 
Harumasa blinked a couple times. “He… He won’t tell anyone, right? Bangboo’s don’t gossip, do they?” You sighed, straightening up his tie before pushing him a bit off of you. “I’ll go pull his memory card. It’s standard for my reports. I’ll just… crop the video.” “Yeah thanks.” Harumasa scratched the back of his head. “We’ve got to be more careful.”
— Close Call #3 —
— Secret is Out —
You had told Harumasa not to push himself too hard, and what does he do? Run head first into battle without calling for backup, of course. He had it handled, but he was paying the consequences today, and of course you were sweet enough to give him company while he was holed up, miserable in his apartment. You swiped through the files on the tablet, a sleeping Harumasa laying in the bed next to you, his arm draped over your lap, holding you securely even in his sleep. An alarm buzzed and without looking up from the tablet, you shook Harumasa awake.
“Huh?” The tired man sat up, wiping the drool off of the corner of his mouth, smiling a bit when he saw you were in his bed.
“Second dose of medicine.” You replied without looking up, handing him one of the bottles. He opened it and placed one of the pills in his mouth, reaching across you to take your water and taking a couple big gulps. “Rude.” You scoff, finally looking up from your tablet.
He placed the cup back on the nightstand before grabbing the tablet, taking it from you and also placing it on the nightstand. “Your poor, sick boyfriend is suffering cold and alone in bed and you’re more focused on work?” He pouts as he pulls you to lay down with him, rather than sitting up.
“You’re only sick because you knowingly pushed your limits!” Your words had no real bite as you did, in fact, lay down with him.
“Your words wound me.” Harumasa cuddles close to you, his wheezing breath right next to your ear, but you didn’t mind, especially with the way one of his hands played with the hair at the base of your neck. “You know you don’t have to be here, right?” You let out a noise, not wanting to repeat this conversation yet again. “I love you, I want to be here, I’m not going anywhere.” You list quickly, and Harumasa didn't argue back, kissing your forehead. “I love you, too.” He whispered softly, his voice slightly hoarse. “And I love that you’re here.” The tender moment was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Oooh that’s probably our takeout.” You reluctantly get up out of his bed with a promise that you’d be right back. You opened the door holding the tip money, only to come face to face with quite possibly the worst person to see right now. “Yanagi?” You were going to ask something else, but your brain chugged when faced with this rather awkward situation.
“(y/n)?” Yanagi was honestly just as confused. “I didn’t know you and Harumasa were close.” Your silence was bordering on suspicious when you let out a polite, professional chuckle, very thankful you hadn’t changed into your pajamas yet and could still kind of pass this off as work. “I work very closely with Harumasa for my reports. A lot of the hollow data can be weird to work out so I often talk to him since he’s a really good scout. I just stopped by to grab some paperwork for him and I ended up helping him with a few things since he’s not feeling well today.” You lie through your teeth, but luckily Yanagi didn’t really seem to question it… or if she did she certainly didn’t let it be known.
“Ah, well I just wanted to drop off another set of folders for him to review. Soukaku tried to do his paperwork for him and I tried to read his handwriting through the scribbles and I wanted to double check it was accurate before I handed it in to you.” Yanagi offered politely.  
Harumasa, who you didn’t realize got out of bed, stood next to you, looking between you and Yanagi. He was tired, in pain, and frankly tired of hiding this relationship. It was his idea originally to keep the fans at bay, keep him out of hot water with the press, and make sure there wasn’t anything to report to HR, but seeing you try to cover up comforting your sick boyfriend with work? Absolutely not. He wrapped his arms around you from behind before placing a gentle kiss on your cheek, your body freezing as Harumasa looked at Yanagi from his hiding spot in your neck.
“Sorry, I’m off today!” He closed the door before dragging you back to bed with him.
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psssst I do, in fact, take requests. Okay thank you for reading <3
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sturnlsstuff · 2 days ago
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PLEASE WRITE A ONESHOT OF CHRIS OVERSTIMULATING Y/N AND FUCKING HER WITH A VIBRATOR OR SOMETHING LIKE DOM!CHRIS BRAT!READER PLEAAASEEE
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CHRIS PUTS YOU IN YOUR PLACE AFTER BEING A BRAT ALL DAY
[smut, dom!chris, sub!reader, mdni]
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chris's cock is buried deep inside you as he pounds into you mercilessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin fill the room. his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing slightly every now and then, the bed creaking, headboard hitting against the wall from how hard he was fucking you.
you didn't really mean to be a brat today. the attitude you would give him all day was driving chris insane. he would let it slide if you two were alone, but talking back to him in front of his brothers and friends? hell no.
you knew you're screwed when he practically dragged you out of his friend's house, pushed you into the car and in total silence drove home.
did you expect him to get annoyed with you? yes. did you know exactly what the consequences would be? not really.
your pussy constantly clenching around him as you gasp for air after another orgasm you just had. "fuckin' squeezin' me so tight.... wanted to act like a brat, huh?" he pants, "couldn't fuckin'.... behave— this what you wanted? still think you're so clever now?" his thumb presses firmly against your neck when you shake your head desperately, his other hand digs into your hip hard enough to bruise.
"c-clever... no, i don't— i... oh—" stumbling over your words, another moan leaves you when he keeps hitting your g-spot perfectly, overstimulating you on purpose.
"no, huh?" his gaze is intense as you lock eyes with him, his face a mixed mask of annoyance and lust. "then shut the fuck up and take it—" he squeezes your throat a bit harder, cutting off your air supply slightly as he pounds into you relentlessly.
you're seeing stars when the knot in your belly keeps growing again, completely going dumb on his dick which causes him to twitch inside you. "close again? f-fuckk, such a good fuckin' girl takin' my cock this— should i let you cum? after you were so— fuckin'— annoying all day—?"
"i'm sorry! i'm sorry c-chris—"
"sorry? now you're fuckin' sorry?"
"please—" that's all you're able to choke out, gripping the sheets as your orgasm crashes down over you like a wave. he groans at the feeling of you creaming around him again.
his composure shatters, with a shuddering growl he presses fully inside you, his knot starting to swell "shittt, ma... stay still... don't... fuckin'... move—"
he rides out his high, eyes locked on the way your eyebrows knitted together and mouth is slack open, whines and cries out of pleasure leaving your lips.
you're pretty sure he's done and you're able to get some air especially when his grip on your throat loosens. but oh, how much you underestimated your boyfriend sometimes.
as the aftershocks of his release fade, chris glances at the vibrator lying on the nightstand, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. still buried deep inside you, he reaches for the device with a mischievous glint in his eye. you're fully oblivious to his plan, laying with your eyes closed until he picks up the vibrator and turns it on, the high pitched whine filling the room. he presses the device against your clit, the vibrations making you jerk and twitch despite being so thoroughly fucked. "open your eyes, brat. see what else we got... your favorite little toy, hm?"
a muffled scream escapes you, eyes fluttering open to look down at what he was doing. breath hitches in your throat, "chris—" you try to sway his hand away too overstimulated, but not trying hard enough when it hurts so good.
he ignores your whines, pressing the vibrator more firmly against you, his other hand reaching out to grab your thigh and throw your leg over his shoulder, opening you up even more. "too sensitive?" his tone mocks you, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you squirm.
chris leans forward and captures your mouth in a rough, dominating kiss, biting down on your lower lip, then tugging it gently as he continues to press the vibrator against you. "look at you, so pretty and overwhelmed..." you moan against his lips, feeling his hips slowly start moving, thrusting in and out as the toy continues to assault your swollen bud.
"t-too much, chris... please— oh!"
"too much, huh? but you're still so fuckin' tight.... m'not stoppin' until you can't take anymore." he pulls back from the kiss, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he observes your trembling legs and flushed cheeks. "gonna cum f'me again? seems like your greedy pussy can't get enough, hm?"
"i— i can't—" your hips twitch upwards to press more against the toy, feeling his cock moving hard enough to make your toes curl.
"yeaaah, you can, c'mon gorgeous... where's that attitude you were giving me all day?" he punctuates his words with a deep thrust. as you clench around him and grind against the vibrator, he presses it harder, stimulating your clit, the buzzing driving you wild. "thaaaat's it, brat... fuckkk—"
the stimulation with him repeatedly hitting your sweet spots has you coming undone again, you let out high pitched moans, your whole body shaking. "holy shit— hurts so... s-so good—"
he smirks, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you flush against his chest as he continues to thrust gently and keep the vibrator pressed against your swollen bud. "y'love it, though.." he growls in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "maybe this will— mmmhm, teach you how to behave—"
your fingers tangle into his hair to hold onto anything, nails digging into his back what only spurrs him on.
his thrusts becoming a little more forceful as he drives himself deeper inside you, feeling his release building again at the way you clench around him like a vice. the toy keeps buzzing against you at the same time, the combination of sensations overwhelming your poor, overstimulated pussy.
"chris if you— don't stop— oh! m'gonna— cum again—" your eyes rolling back, back arching upwards. "go ahead, baby." he pants in your ear, his voice hoarse from holding back his own release. he can feel your inner walls starting to spasm, ready to convulse around him again, your body tensing up getting closer to another release that you clearly can't handle. "gimme one more, c'mon..."
"i'm— fuck... cumming— chris, i'm—" you cry out, your body shaking uncontrollably as euphoria consumes you, completely overpowering your other senses. he watches you with satisfaction, keeping the vibrator pressed against you, prolonging your orgasm. it makes you squeeze around him so tight, he barely can move, "goddamn—"
he keeps you flush against him as he finally lets out a groan and releases inside you, flooding your already overworked pussy with his seed. you gasp for air, eyes fluttering open as you weakly mutter, "too much chris—"
he smiles against you, finally turning off the vibrator and gently pulling it away from your swollen, quivering flesh. "yeah?" he asks mischievously, nuzzling into your neck and biting gently at the sensitive skin there. "gonna keep being a brat?"
you shake your head just as he lifts up his, looking at your fucked out expression. then he captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his ego boosted at the way he clearly wore you out.
"can i get cuddles tonight?" you mutters against his lips, a chuckle escapes him. "obviously."
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taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @fratbrochrisgf @lvrsturniolo @chrisweetheart @chrisfavoritewhore @sturnslutz @ncm9696 @certified-sturniolo @mattsobvimyfav @swagalicious260 @giannalovessturniolo @sophand4n4 @brazyturtleneck @jocelyncsblog @sophand4n4 @giannalovessturniolo @alesturniolos @ilovenmcs
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teeskzagain · 1 day ago
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"i'm popular with older sisters."
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• synopsis: in which the lines have started to blur between your long-term neighbor, sim jake.
• warnings: heavily suggestive content (as in this is one step away from being just straight smut basically), jake calls reader "noona", dry humping, hickies/neck markings, slight dirty talk, desperate!jake
• wc: 1.1k
• a/n: im thinking of expanding this idea into a one shot, but please let me know if i should.
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» imagine younger!neighbor jake, who one day barges into your house, ready to hang out with you and your family- he'd been bored with nothing else to do.
» neighbor!jake, who roams around the living room and kitchen in search of someone, before finally working his way upstairs (there was no one around) and sees that your door is open. immediately, he beelines straight down the hall.
» imagine younger!neighbor jake, who wastes no time storming into your room, excited that you're home, only to get told off harshly by you. you're on the phone with a friend, back resting against the bed frame as you wave at him to go away.
» after scolding him and returning back to your conversation, imagine younger!neighbor jake's reaction. his face would contort unpleasantly, nose turning upright at your dismissive attitude. he'd stand at your door frame, mumbling out, "noona." over and over again as a means of regaining your attention. though, you would just ignore him.
» imagine neighbor!jake, who doesn't appreciate how you're acting towards him, stalking up to the end of the bed. his whines of, "get off the phone." combined with, "just talk to me instead." begin to irritate you, with you purposely keeping your gaze away from him.
» younger!neighbor jake didn't like being ignored. which is why seconds later, he's crawling onto your bed and swiftly engulfing you with his body. after the many years spent together, he already knows what gets you the most distracted.
» imagine neighbor!jake who, as your busy yelling and fighting him off of you, begins to bury his head deep into your neck. he produces little groans into the crevice, saying such verbage as, "noona, i miss you so much. please, just missed you so much."
» imagine neighbor!jake smothering you with his weight when he starts to press his full lips against your skin, trying anything to get your attention. you fumble your phone in an attempt to hang up the call because absolutely no way would you let anyone know about this. no. no one could ever know. “we are not doing this right now.” you hiss softly once you know your friend is unable to hear the scuffle going on.
» "why not?" neighbor!jake rumbles into your skin, "don't you love it when i-" without any hesitation, he starts to nip at your skin and instinctively a sharp inhale has you levitating. his arms wrap tighter around your torso as you now begin to feel trapped underneath him. wrestling you deeper into the mattress, he can't help the light rut his pelvis does into your side. the need to just have you becoming ever so consuming.
» imagine younger!neighbor jake, who in actuality, came over to your house because he's been missing you a little more than a neighbor truly should. while, yes, he was missing the comforting presence you would always bring to him. your caring tendencies in an almost sisterly way.
» imagine neighbor!jake, who's true reason for visiting, was because he began to miss you. he started to miss your thick, velvet walls that always feel so fucking good around his strained cock. the tiny whimpers you would produce when you were overstimulated. how much cum he would squirt out because only you could ever get him so aroused. he's longing for it, and now he needs this asap.
» "jake...." murmuring, you feel your head roll to the side as neighbor!jake uses a hand to push it out the way, needing an even greater space to kiss and mark you up, "we need...to stop. we need to stop this now. my parents are gonna be home-ah...soon."
» younger!neighbor jake is too much in a daze to even register your concern. fuck, how could he pay attention? despite your protests, you're already whining softly into the air, the little huffs of your chest has both you and him heaving up and down. this is how it always starts. it starts with your refusal to engage, your mature attitude that battles his easy going one, before eventually you begin to falter.
» imagine neighbor!jake slowly pulling his head back to gage you from above, and then recieving all the confirmation he needs. his noona. so fucking pretty, the way you're eyes are shut tightly because you always get aroused so fast. you want this, no matter how many times you try to deny. the evidence is all of your face. god, he feels his cock buzzing because of that pretty face. you just make him so damn horny. after admiring you, he lowers himself once more and goes back to producing fat, lazy hickies all over your neck and grinding his tip against you.
» imagine younger!neighbor jake, who's cock is pulsing so hard that he's seconds away from cumming on himself. raking his dick into your body, the sloppy kisses, all of it acts as the perfect foreplay for him. but what really does it for him, is when your legs involuntarily widens and closes to cage him in, solidifying the unspoken agreement between you two.
» a tiny smile starts to spread across neighbor!jake's face as he switches between splotching you red and huskily speaking, "you ready now?" he lands a larger kiss on the middle of your throat, "i'll be quick, noona." his throaty voice vibrates just perfectly into your ears. "just how you like it."
» imagine younger!neighbor jake, who's moments from stuffing you raw, muttering sweet nothings into your skin. he grabs a handful of your pants fabric and quietly pulls it down to reveal your commando state. when he brushes his fingertips against your bare clit, you have to bite your lip to stop a shuddered moan from leaving. his hazy eyes look up to your contorted face, "kinda wish you wouldn't hold back. i wanna hear your pretty moans. i wanna hear your soft pleads. let me hear you-"
» as you go to let out a throaty mewl, imagine younger!neighbor jake's dismay when he suddenly hears the front door opening then closing and indistinct talking emerges from downstairs. with an, ‘oh fuck’, the two of you jump and scramble apart, the sounds of footsteps echoing around. someone starts to make their way upstairs as you both go from a state of startling shock to sheer panic.
"Y/N! We're home!"
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crookedteethed · 4 hours ago
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ᡣ𐭩 who do you love? . • °   .  * : r. cameron
synopsis -- mistress! reader goes bonkers and films a surprise video for Rafe and his wife's anniversary. ۶ৎ
warnings -- 18+-mdni, smut (unprotected p i v), breeding kink, video voyeurism, infidelity, mention of alcohol usage, age gap, cursing, pussy whipped! rafe, homegirl is... yeah
other woman masterlist |taglist | based on this ask | wc: 1.7k
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You knew exactly what you were doing when you typed her name into Facebook's search bar. Your fingers moved with purpose, guided by an obsession you couldn't shake.
There it was - Rafe's wife's profile, and right at the top, exactly what you'd been hunting for: a fresh post celebrating their decade of marriage, complete with a photo from their younger days when their love still seemed pure and untainted. You stared at their beaming faces, letting the bitterness wash over you.
Each scroll feels like turning a knife in your own heart, but you can't stop.
Their life unfolds before you like some twisted fairy tale: Rafe teaching their daughter to ride a bike, their annual trips to the Maldives, their matching Christmas sweaters with those damn Dobermans.
And her—always her—wearing that diamond tennis bracelet you once saw in his browser history, claiming the life that should have been yours.
This should be me, the thought burns like acid.
Your fingers hover over a photo of their Mediterranean cruise, her perfectly manicured hand resting on his chest, that massive engagement ring catching the sunset.
She has everything: the weekend brunches at that fancy place downtown, the Range Rover you've seen in their driveway, the three beautiful children with his eyes, the garden parties you watch from afar, and him—God, especially him.
The life that slipped through your fingers because of timing and trust funds. She had everything you didn't: old money, country club connections, and most crucially—age.
While you were still learning to drive, she was already the perfect socialite, the appropriate choice for a man of Rafe's standing. The Seventeen-year age gap between you and Rafe might as well have been an ocean—one that she had already crossed long before you even learned to swim.
Sometimes you wonder if that's what drew him to you in the first place: your youth, your naivety, everything that made you so different from her. Everything that ultimately made you impossible.
Your wine glass is empty again. When did that happen?
A tear escaped your eye as jealousy carved deeper into your chest, the pain spreading until you could barely breathe. Your trembling fingers found your phone, muscle memory still remembering his number after all these years. You knew it was wrong—God, you knew—but you pressed call anyway.
One ring. Two rings. Your heart threatened to burst.
"Hello?" His voice, still so familiar, sent electricity through your body.
"I—" your voice cracked, "I need to see you, Rafe. Please. I can't… I can't stop thinking about you, and I'm so alone tonight. Please come over, I need you."
The silence that followed felt eternal—like light years away, stretching between your world and his, filled with everything unsaid.
You could picture him there, standing in his perfect house with his perfect family just rooms away, probably running his fingers through his hair the way he always did when he was conflicted.
Your heart hammered against your ribs as you heard him move, presumably stepping outside or into his study. Then came that familiar sound—the slow exhale through his nose that you remembered from countless late nights together, when difficult decisions hung in the air between you.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, rough with something that might have been regret or desire or both: "I'm on my way."
Three simple words that shattered whatever remained of your resolve. You ended the call before he could change his mind, before reality could catch up to either of you, before guilt could claw its way back in.
Your hands shook as you set the phone down, knowing that in fifteen minutes—twenty at most—you'd hear his car in your driveway, and everything would change again.
When he steps through your door, the world narrows to just this: his loosened tie, your trembling hands, the soft thud as his back hits the wall. "We shouldn't," he whispers, even as his fingers dig into your hips, even as he pulls you closer.
You silence his protest with a kiss that tastes like regret and wanting, knowing tomorrow will bring guilt but tonight—tonight belongs to muscle memory and bad decisions.
Your hands roam greedily over each other, ripping clothes away with primal urgency. Your mouths hungrily devour one another, teeth nipping at lips as you guide him to the bedroom. Your heart races with desire and anticipation, knowing what awaits in the heat of passion.
The phone you carefully propped against the lamp earlier blinks silently in the darkness, its camera catching everything. You position him perfectly in its view, letting him think it's just desire guiding your movements.
"God, I've missed you," he breathes against your collar bone, completely unaware that every word, every moan, every mistake is being captured. You almost feel guilty—almost.
Then you think of her Facebook shrine to their perfect marriage, and something shifts inside you—guilt crystallizing into purpose.
Your phone keeps recording in the darkness, anticipating to capture every betrayal, every whispered confession.
Soon, her perfectly filtered life won't matter anymore. Soon, you'll have something far more precious than any photograph: Rafe—cornered, desperate, and finally yours.
Without hesitation, you shoved Rafe onto your queen size bed. Straddling his naked body, you disregarded any notion of foreplay.
As much as you craved the feeling of his tongue on your clit or his thick fingers probing you, all that mattered was having Rafe's cock buried in your cunt.
"Damn, you weren't kidding. You really do need me," Rafe smirked as his palm immediately found its way to your dripping core, but to your dismay was swatted away.
With a seductive grin, cooed in your sweet, high-pitched voice that made Rafe's brain mush. "Un huh, now be a good boy and let me take care of myself," you purred, guiding his rock-hard cock to the entrance of your wetness.
"Are you going to let me do that?" Your tone was condescending, but it only fueled the intense desire between you both, and because Rafe's mind turned to mush the moment you said you needed him, he nodded, totally pussy whipped and enamored by you.
The sharp gasp that escaped both of your lips was matched only by the intensity of your desire.
Slowly, you sank down onto Rafe's throbbing cock, savoring the feeling of him stretching you just as he always did.
"You're so tight, baby," he groaned out, his voice dripping with lust.
As you remembered the phone set up hidden by your side table lamp, a mischievous thought crossed your mind:
"Am I tighter than your wife?" you asked, already beginning to rock your hips on his length. Naturally, Rafe's hands found their way to your waist, not to guide you but to bring you closer to his lips.
"So much tighter, shit," he breathed out between hot kisses, with each agonizing slow rock.
"You're gonna leave her for me, huh?" you asked, face to face with Rafe, cradling his jaw to peck his lips. Slowly, you began to pick up the pace. 
Your rhythmic movements escalate into frenzied bouncing, his hard length molding perfectly to your slick walls, stretching you to the limit. You lift yourself up and press down on Rafe's chest for leverage, driving him deeper and harder into you
Rafe's eyes rolled back as you bounced harder, your pussy gripping him like a vice. "Fuck, I… I don't know," he groaned, his hips bucking up to meet your thrusts.
You leaned down, your breasts brushing against his chest as you whispered in his ear, "Come on, baby. Tell me you'll leave her. Tell me I'm the only one you want." Your walls clenched around him for emphasis, drawing a strangled moan from his lips.
"God, yes," Rafe panted, completely lost in the sensation of your tight heat enveloping him. "I'll leave her. You're all I want, fuck!"
Hearing those words sent a thrill through you. You began to bounce faster, slamming yourself down onto his thick cock with abandon. Your breasts bounced enticingly and Rafe reached up to cup them, pinching your nipples between his fingers.
"Say it again," you demanded breathlessly, grinding your hips in circles. "Tell me you're mine."
"I'm yours, baby," Rafe panted, thrusting up to meet your movements. "All fucking yours."
You leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your tongue tangling with his as you continued to ride him relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your shared moans of pleasure.
"Gonna cum for me?" you asked, clenching your walls around him. "Gonna fill me up? Gonna give me one of your babies?"
"Yeah, gonna stuff your sweet pussy with my hot load, fuck, I'm about to explode," Rafe moaned, his nails digging into your flesh, leaving red marks on your hips.
You reached down to rub tight circles on your clit, chasing your own release. "Me too, don't stop," you gasped.
With a few more forceful thrusts, you both toppled over the brink together, moaning in bliss as powerful waves of pleasure engulfed you. Rafe followed suit, releasing his hot and sticky load inside you, filling you up completely.
The afterglow lasts exactly thirty seconds before Rafe is already reaching for his clothes, his movements quick and efficient like this is just another business meeting wrapping up, breathing hasn't even steadied.
"I need to get back," he says, checking his watch. "We have dinner reservations at La Maison."
"Of course. The anniversary dinner." Your voice sounds hollow even to your own ears. "Rafe?" He pauses, shirt half-buttoned. "Did you mean any of it? What you said while we were…?"
He crosses the room, cups your face, and plants a soft kiss on your lips—the kind that feels like goodbye. Then he's gone, the front door clicking shut behind him.
You sit in the twisted sheets, his warmth already fading, listening to his car fade into the distance. Your hands shake as you reach for your phone and stop the recording. The email address you've had memorized for months appears in the recipient field without hesitation. You attach the video—forty-three minutes of undeniable truth—and watch the upload bar creep forward. In the subject line, you type five words that will demolish their perfect life: "Happy Anniversary, From Us Both."
Your finger hovers over 'send' for just a heartbeat before pressing down. Let her enjoy those reservation plans now.
Now he'll have to choose, you think, watching the loading bar reach 100%. And this time, he'll choose me.
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a/n -- thanks for making it to the end, as always all likes comments, and reblogs keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾
taglist --
@rafestoothbrush @alexxavicry @trapistani @Hejsj @neslayuh @hotvampdragon @alyisdead @jelybely @elmolovesw33d @littlelamy @futuremrscameron @percysley @rrafeswhore
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aly-san · 1 day ago
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While I agree that in general you have to suspend your disbelief with horror a lot of the time and just enjoy the ride, my main argument with this is that, the characters not being genre aware works both ways.
Yes, they shouldn't know that the killer flipped the breaker to lure them down into the dark spooky basement. So obviously they'll go down there and check it, and inevitably get chased back upstairs by said killer. But they also shouldn't know that the movie will end if they leave the house and run to their neighbors, instead of running upstairs where they have no escape route.
We, as the audience, may know all of that stuff, but The Characters don't. They don't know the cops won't help. They don't know the monster is in the garden. They don't know that they're at the mercy of plot convenience, so if they don't do something that feels like common sense, it ends up being frustrating for the viewer.
In general, I think characters can be dumb on purpose, as in the writers chose to have them make these dumb decisions for the sake of making it scary. Or, they can be dumb by accident, as in the writers didn't think about it at all. And often times, the latter part is the one that can be annoying to watch lol.
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JONATHAN ARCHIVIST IS NOT STUPID SQUAD I WILL ALWAYS BE WITH YOU
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eldritch-spouse · 1 day ago
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At first, Belo believed his Goddess was just really affectionate physically. She frequently cuddled up to him, burying her face in his chest, or absentmindedly stroking whatever area of his body wasn't covering his soft fur, sighing happily as her hand moved. However, every time she's had a friend over, they'd hug briefly, then… hang out on opposite ends of the couch. Between the short greeting hugs, there was little to no physical contact.
…Does his Goddess only enjoy touching… him?
(while not exactly touch-averse, the Goddess in question just generally prefers to have her own space and tends to show affection in different ways. excluding Belo, obviously. his fur is so SOFT and COMFORTING to touch, it feels like her heart will explode from PURE JOY)
[Adorable! I like this. Fem reader.]
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He's always thought he was unworthy of such attention.
Powers like him are only meant to guard and fight for their Lords and Ladies. It's not even their job to worship, not to the extent of other casts, but Belo still likes to think he can perform decently in that field... His kind isn't meant to be showered in attention and rewards, they're taught not to expect such for simply executing their duties.
Yet, since shortly after Belo found his place at your service, you've done nothing if not treat him with endless kindless, endless love.
Part of him had wanted to caution you that touching him is beneath your status. That he didn't deserve it.
Hardly ever would those words manifest, because Belo simply couldn't stop himself from enjoying it. He'd hate himself if he said something that made you truly not touch him anymore.
He's always wondered why you did it.
There's no doubt you enjoy the feeling of his fur. He's memorized the way you like to lace your fingers on the tufts that warm his chest, the way you'll slide from the top of his wings to his arms, leaning onto him just so you can feel more of it. Belo often forgets he tends to lean during those encounters, chases after the hand that pets him, forgetting who he's meant to be and who he's in front of. There's no way to describe the way his heart hammers behind his ribcage, how his eyes will flicker everywhere and he tenses all over -Puffing out that fur you seem to love- before he's floating in his own Eden.
Do you like to touch Belo simply because he's, as you put it, "fluffy"? Do you enjoy touching him because you seek to reward him? Do you touch him because you think he should be the only one who gets to receive that privilege?
Selfishly, he silently wishes you'd touch him more. Many, unfortunately, were the times Belo would get distracted throughout the day, daydreaming of you running your hands all over him, unhindered by his outfit, feeling everything everywhere just because you could, because he's your angel and his body is also yours to keep, to order. The blood in his body would rush elsewhere and the celestial would curve to hide his own shame, even as it continued to throb and demand attention until he succumbed.
Pervertedly, Belo did such an experiment once. He dressed casually. It felt wrong, felt inappropriate to present in such a relaxed hammer around the most important figure in his life... But you had expressed delight in his supposed drive to adapt a little bit more, so the guilt was ever so slightly lessened.
That day, there was hardly a limit to your boldness. He remembers you embracing him from behind, arms coming forward to squeeze at his chest and rubbing the soft clumps over his abdomen. The knee-length sport shorts he picked were pushed down slightly. Belo had done it on purpose, and it yielded results. You had, perhaps in distraction, perhaps knowingly, massaged the fur-dense spot right above his slit. The angel couldn't breathe in that moment, he feared he might even collapse if your digits wondered just a tiny but further. He knew that he would react shamefully but the notion wasn't strong enough to make him prevent such.
He was ready to be punished, if it meant having this small guilty pleasure.
Your phone, that blasted electrical contraption that you love so dearly, rang so jarringly loud in that exact moment that Belo nearly yelped. Your hands were off his overheated body in a blink, and the interaction ceased there, with his Lady none the wiser to the state she left him in.
He could barely feel a shred of indignity for the way disappointment radiated off him in thick waves.
Belo hasn't had the courage to try that again, though it's more than safe to say the memory is engraved in the forefront of his mind.
It got him to... Think about you.
Your actions, your behavior around others.
It's not often you allow people into your sanctuary anymore. Belo insists that you shouldn't invite those beneath you into such close quarters. This ground is pure and protected for the sake of your well-being, to allow ignorant outsiders to disrespect and desecrate this location is an act of self-harm the power will simply not stand by!
Yet still, his Lady's word is final on a lot of matters. There is faith in some people, who you see as good and deserving of your holy presence. The celestial sees naught but lessers in delusion of your supposed "normalcy", but if you believe these individuals are somewhat excusable, then he'll try to see things through your eyes.
You've always tended to keep your distance from them. Not emotionally, physically. This was something Belo was initially quite relieved by, he didn't have to warn you not to put yourself in such unsightly positions. Just the thought made him itch in an unnatural way...
Now though, he wonders why, if you're aware of the distance you should keep from others, you still choose to touch him frequently? Belo is still beneath the honor of such, yet never once do you hold the hands of the people you invite, refuse their embraces, look uncomfortable at the slightest unintentional brush... In contrast, you appear to be greatly comforted by the sensation of his physique.
He freezes, mind running so wild with possibilities that the angel's fingers tremble.
You have clearly made a choice.
There's no one you'd ever like to touch, except Belo.
In your eyes, in your actions, in your mind, he's the only one worthy enough
He's the only one who can reach your standards!
You only need contact from him.
Belo understands now.
He feels his chest tighten with delight, feels weightless for a second, the rush of euphoria clawing its way up his spine makes his wings flutter and he makes some sort of noise entirely undignified of his cast.
He remained in a state of barely concealed hysteria until you arrived home that day.
For once in his life, he commits something unthinkable.
" Welcome back, my Lady. "
He greets when you step through the door. Instead of standing by your side as he typically does, the angel crowds you, ruffled and tense. You don't get to answer before Belo summons the courage to reach out, to ghost his hands across your soft face and ever so gently, so carefully -like you'd shun him forever otherwise- embrace you in a comforting hug.
He feels as if he broke a thousand rules in one moment alone, but it was worth it.
Because he felt you smile against him.
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ironicsoap · 1 day ago
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What I've learned from making 2 fursuits!
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I've learned a TON from the process of both of these suits, making my 2nd suit I improved on a lot of stuff I had learned from the first! Here's stuff I would've liked to know before I started either of these
For reference, the white cat suit's name is Sophie and she was made first. The blue one is Raine, and she was made second! I'll be referring to them throughout this.
I've learned nearly everything I know about sewing and these types of craft projects from making these 2 suits, I haven't had any prior experience. This is all very much advice From a beginner TO beginners, experienced makers may say some of this is wrong, this is just my lived experience written down. I figured I'd write all this now while it's fresh in my mind! When you get experienced at doing stuff, you tend to forget what problems you faced as a beginner.
Fur Bulk
Fur bulk is REAL and a MASSIVE PROBLEM when making your sculpt. Regardless of what method you use to make your base, 3D printed or foam. Depending on how short you can shave your fur, fur bulk will add about 1cm - 0.5cm of thickness to your base
Look how much her mouth closed up from the base sculpt! I ended up still loving the end result, but it was a bit unexpected. (Despite learning about fur bulk from my first suit, and ALSO testing fur bulk in Blender with a fur particle system when I was making the sculpt for this head.)
Raine's ear is an unfortunate victim of fur bulk still, but I didn't have time to remake it how I wanted it. I even tried to make it slimmer on purpose since Sophie's ear ended up so stupidly thick 😭
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Seam Allowance & Stitches
(Talking PURELY about hand sewing, I've never used a sewing machine, I cannot give any advice for that)
You should be using a blanket or whip stitch for most of your fursuit, in terms of speed and seams, they are the most effective! Whip stitch for most of your face, it's going to be glued down.. so truly you just need the fabric together and not SECURE since it'll be glued. Use the blanket stitch for things like paws or stuff that's more likely to pop a seam (ears? tails? etc)
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More experienced suit makers might say use blanket for everything, that may be more correct 🤷‍♀️ Whip/Blanket are nearly the same stitch, blanket is just more secure than a whip stitch, takes a little longer, and uses slightly more thread. I haven't timed other stitches, but the blanket takes me about 5 minutes per inch to do.
On Sophie, I had made up my own bizarre version of a backstitch that was stupidly strong.. but also took a million years to do. It also made my paws near IMPOSSIBLE to turn inside out. Sewing raines face together with a whip stitch was way quicker!
For your face pattern, use next to no seam allowance for the cleanest look. The areas that I added seam allowance on Raine, I really regretted the bulged out look they had. If you aren't confident in your pattern making ability, some seam allowance does give you some wiggle room in terms of how easily your pattern fits onto your base
Designing your suit for airflow
This wasn't actually a problem for me, I did this from the start. But I've worn suits that weren't designed for proper ventilation, and it really just makes suiting a very unpleasant experience. You want to have a mouth hole that is right in front of your own mouth, so you can easily get fresh air in your suit. I'm not saying you HAVE to do this, as not all designs can accommodate this, but it's absolutely something to think about for your comfort!
Another thing I've learned, is the roomier your suit is around the mouth hole, the more overall airflow you get! I tried on my friends head which I sculpted, and they printed in TPU, significantly roomier than Raine, and much more breathable! Raine is still comfortable for me to wear even masked underneath, since I made her ventilation so good!
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My future suits I make, I'm going to be looking into TPU due to the sheer weight and breathability difference from my PLA suit!
Non-Fur Supplies
I highly recommend getting hand sewing needles and EVA foam at Daiso if you have one! Daiso has lots of little sewing kits, and I got both of my main needles there. The little circle disks of needles you can find at other stores didn't have needles that were the right size and shape for my hands to comfortably use. Daiso also sells EVA foam in the smaller amounts that you'd need for a suit, unlike hardware stores which usually sell giant square packs of 5
For handsewing, I noticed going for the slightly thicker thread lead to stronger seams overall.
For what you should have in a sewing kit for fursuit, here's what I have (ranked by importance)
Multiple handsewing needles you're comfortable with, just in case you lose one
Pins
Wonder clips (the little plastic rainbow clips) ABSOLUTELY necessary for suit making honestly, they work better than pins in most situations
Seam ripper
Soft measuring tape
Some generic white and/or black thread, as well as your fursuits thread
Safety pins
Overall helpful fursuit supplies
Velcro patches
Masking tape
Duck/Duct Tape
Have garbage shitty scissors, and separate scissors JUST for fabric. Your fabric scissors will remain sharp for much longer if you don't use them on other stuff. (3rd pair of scissors that's not used on tape/sticky stuff, but thread and paper also is helpful. The garbage scissors can get gunky when cutting tape, and your medium scissors remain sharp enough to easily cut other stuff)
Xacto knife + LOTS of new blades. The blades go dull FAST when cutting fur and foam. If you're having to use a lot of pressure to cut through your fur's backing, that means you need a new blade
Box cutter + LOTS of new blades for box cutter. I have a Kobalt box cutter, it's nearly as sharp as my xactos. I use it for cutting out big sections of fur and foam.
I get my eye mesh from Curlworks! I love the visibility on it ^_^
Fur Brands
In terms of my fur company quality rankings, it would be this (I've tried fur from a million different companies on my sample hunt for Raine)
1. Howl Fabrics 2. BigZFabrics 3. MofuMofu.shop
Howl overall is the most dense, relatively soft, and best to shave out of all 3. (Canfur is of very similar quality to Howl, except it has a mild crayon or carpet smell. The smell wears off completely after around 6-7 months, at least on the small sample I got)
BigZ is kind of like a middle ground, but shaves HIGHLY powdery compared to the other 2. As well as shaves a little worse/choppy compared to better quality fur.
MofuMofu is the least dense out of the 3, but I would consider the softest. Best if they have a niche color you need. The fur tends to clump together when it is shaved like sheep wool, and is less powdery than BigZ.
Random furs from etsy are usually LQ/MQ and patchy on their density, not great for shaving super short
Fur Shaving / Length
If you're going for a high quality look on your suit, you want SHORT fur for the face, full-stop. Every suit I've seen that's truly made me go WOW has always had VERY short face fur. Shorter fur shows the look of your sculpt better, instead of hiding it all behind any lumpy fur bulk or unbrushed sections. (Brushing fur doesn't last very long after a suit's been put on haha)
If you can buy your fur in shorter lengths like teddy/beaver, ABSOLUTELY do so. It'll make your shaves much shorter and cleaner. The longer your fur is, is the harder it is to get it to a "HQ" shave length. I personally couldn't get Raine as short as I wanted her to be 😩 But her colors are niche, so I couldn't locate them in shorter fur lengths
Once your suit is complete, don't be afraid to go in there with scissors and your clippers to clean up the fur+markings as well! Raine's mouth opened up a LOT more when i trimmed it down to shape with my scissors
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Pattern Making
Avoid putting any seams down the middle of your face, it is noticeable! This is roughly how my pattern for Raine worked, I think the eyebrows helped disguise that horizontal middle seam really well! (the fur from the "eyebrow" piece covers the seam to the forehead piece as it is brushed over it!) I also made the nose bridge it's own piece, to utilize the visible seam to create a crease for it.
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I also recommend avoid making any + shaped intersections on your seams if you can avoid it, it's really hard to sew cleanly😭 Sometimes they're unavoidable, but I try my best to avoid doing them.
Wearability
I'm not sure how much this applies to foam suits, but I really recommend using some elastic, a parachute clip, and some velcro to make an adjustable strap to keep your suit on your head! I tried to use foam on Sophie to get a snug fit, it did not work and made her struggle to stay on. The elastic strap on Raine is way better and more secure.
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Misc / Random
When making your ears, you don't necessarily need to sew the minky/inner ear onto the fur parts! You can get a much flatter look on your minky if you just glue it on seperate, and have the fur not connected to it
(Specifically for beginner suit makers making personal projects) Not everything has to be perfect! No one will notice your little imperfections, and you don't have to make a nice product for a client. You can leave some things unsewn, you can have tiny bits of foam show from weird angles. You can hot glue some things instead of sewing them to save time. You can have small accidental bald spots. You can have little unsewn holes in corners if it's too hard to sew around those parts. Take it easy on yourself!
You may spring for fleece to save some money on buying minky, I honestly recommend not doing this. Minky feels significantly nicer, and minky from Howl is really not that much more than some fleece, for small pieces like inner mouths, noses, ears, etc, all you need is a "Fat Quarter" sized piece. It's more than enough! And only $6.50 (if you want fleece specifically, ignore this haha. I just regret going for fleece instead of minky on Sophie!)
Carving a foam base, to me, is the hardest part of suit making. So much so, that I never plan to do it again :P It's some people's thing, definitely not mine. If you've been frustrated with how your foam results turn out, consider 3D printing! Or buying a base from someone.
When looking for fursuit advice and tutorials, beyond the obvious places to look (matrices, youtube, google), I genuinely recommend Tiktok! A lot gets posted there for small niche problems you may have
Use this method for tying a knot on your thread when hand sewing, it's extremely fast https://youtu.be/LWWhRtxl6eE?si=AEt2HDiwp09AigOS
When making a 3D printed base, do not go too thin. I'd do test prints to see what thickness feels right to you, raine was about 0.5-0.7 cm but I wish she was a bit thicker because I worry a lot about her shattering 😨
Removeable eyes are very useful, if i get hair in my face I'm able to pop out Raine's eyes to move it out of my way x)
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shortnspidey · 2 days ago
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CHAPTER ONE: ECHOS OF THE PAST
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bucky barnes x fem!stark!reader || WC: 3.7K
A/N: In honor of Sebastian getting his first Golden Globe (which was long overdue), I present to you all the first chapter for this series! Thank you for all the love on this series before it was even published! This first chapter is really angsty, BUT there is certainly more to come! Dividers by @sister-lucifer <3
➩ next chapter
➩ main masterlist
➩ series masterlist
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The familiar hum of New York City quickly faded as you stepped into the quiet sanctuary of your apartment. It was a stark contrast to the bustling campus of MIT, a place that had once held so much promise. The weight of the past few months hung heavy on your shoulders as you let out a long, weary sigh. You had returned home, defeated and disillusioned.
The keys in your right hand felt heavy, almost like an invisible weight was pushing you down. You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of disappointment and frustration. The sense of relief from being back home was met with the bitter taste of unmet expectations. You had dreamed of making a mark, of proving to yourself and to everyone else that you belonged at one of the most prestigious institutions in the world.
Instead, you found yourself constantly questioning your place, your purpose, and your abilities. As you finally turned the key and stepped inside, the familiar surroundings offered a small comfort. However, that relief was short lived. What you didn't expect was to see your father, in the flesh, sitting in your living room. His presence felt like an additional weight on your already burdened shoulders, amplifying the emotions swirling inside you.
Choosing to ignore him, you walked past the living room and into your room. You could bet that he would be following close behind you not even a second later. Sure enough, as you settled to unpack the little clothes that lay in your suitcase, you heard his footsteps approaching. "F.R.I.D.A.Y told me you were back in New York," The stern voice of Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist or as you knew him, your father, interrupted behind you.
Letting out a sigh, you could practically feel the disappointment radiating off of him from your doorway. "Which I find very odd since it's nowhere near your winter break." You avoided eye contact as you fiddled with the items on your desk. "Funny enough, I gave a lecture at MIT and to my surprise my daughter was nowhere to be found. Especially since the academic advisor stopped me to inform me you haven't been attending classes for almost a month." God you wished he'd just get right to the point.
"Care to explain?" Not bothering to hide the nonchalance in your voice, you simply shrugged and mumbled, "Dropped out." The tension in the room was palpable, his silence spoke volumes, a mixture of disbelief and frustration hanging in the air. "Dropped out? What do you mean, you dropped out? You were doing so well." You could hear the strain in his voice, the effort it took to keep his emotions in check. “MIT was your dream, not mine.” His eyes widened, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of hurt cross his face.
You almost felt bad. Almost. "But you had everything going for you," He insisted, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at you with what you could only assume was utter disappointment. "The scholarships, internships, the many opportunities they offered… Why would you throw all that away?" You sighed, feeling the weight of his disappointment. "Because it wasn't making me happy," You replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I finally realized that I was living someone else's dream, not mine."
You had finally admitted it.
As you finally mustered the courage to confront him, a bruise blooming on his right eye suddenly stole your attention. The conversation about MIT, now seemed like the last thing on your mind. After what seemed like an eternity, you tried to gauge his expression, but came up short. "Well in that case," He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're grounded." Clenching your jaw you scoffed in disdain. "What the hell do you mean I'm grounded?" You spat, crossing you arms over your chest. "I don't think I stuttered." Tony rolled his eyes which only fueled your anger.
"I'm not five dad, I'm almost twenty-five, you can't ground me." You growled, digging your freshly manicured nails into your palm in frustration. "As your father, I believe that is one of the many privileges I still hold. You're clearly not thinking straight. You need time to reflect on your choices and figure out what you truly want." He looked at you with a mixture of worry and disappointment, his eyes searching for a way to reach you. "This isn't about punishment, it's about helping you." The more he talked, the angrier you became.
Of course, he was making this about him, as he somehow always seemed to do. Completely disregarding what you wanted, he continued to impose his will. The familiar feeling of being trapped under his expectations washed over you, instantly making your blood boil. "Helping me?" You echoed, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "You do realize that I just confessed that I don't want to go back to MIT, and instead of asking me why, you ground me instead. Real mature." You could feel the tears of frustration welling up, but you refused to let them fall.
You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing that he had affected you. This was your life, your decision, and you were growing tired of being treated like a child. He opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off, the words spilling out before you could find will to stop them. "You don't get it, do you? It's like you only hear what you want to hear. I’m not some kid who needs to be sheltered from the world. I need you to listen for once!" His expression hardened, and you could see the frustration creeping into his demeanor.
Taking his silence as a sign to continue, you pushed back your nerves and tears, and decided a different approach to somehow get your point across. "Can’t you see that I’m trying to figure things out on my own? Grounding me isn’t going to help me in any way." He sighed, and you could tell he was struggling to find the right words. Tony Stark may be the smartest and most successful man in the world, but he sure as hell didn't know how to express himself. In words, at least. "I just want what’s best for you," His voice softer now, was almost pleading.
It almost made you feel bad for yelling. "Then try trusting me for once," Your voice trembled with a mix of anger and desperation. "I'm tired of people not knowing my name, and only knowing me as 'Tony Stark's daughter'. You have to understand that, dad." The silence hung heavy between you, both of you staring at each other, the weight of unspoken words filling the room. You could feel the tension shifting, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he finally understood. After a pregnant pause, he suddenly found the words, just not the ones you were expecting.
"Well, I'm off, there's cheeseburgers in the kitchen." The casualness in his voice, as if the conversation hadn't happened made your frustration and anger resurface. "Just like that you're leaving," You scoffed in disbelief, but never the less expected it. This was typical of him, avoiding the deeper issues with a quick exit. "You really think cheeseburgers is going to make up for this?" You added, hoping for once in his life he was joking. Oh how wrong you were. “Settle in, watch movies, but do not leave this apartment under any circumstances.” He instructed, his tone firm as he moved toward the door.
"And if I leave?" You challenged, standing your ground as his hand hovered over the front door knob. He paused, his back to you. "Just remember I have eyes everywhere," Without so much as a final glance in your direction, he shut the door behind him. The thud echoed through the apartment, leaving you alone with your thoughts. As if on cue, your phone which laid abandoned in your bedroom went off startling you. Looking at the door one last time, you let out a huff, the frustration and disappointment evident in your breath. It was clear your father wasn't coming back.
With a resigned sigh, you turned and made your way to your bedroom. As soon as you picked up your phone, your heart dropped. Notifications filled the screen, each one more alarming than the last. You had been tagged in numerous social media posts, not to mention the messages from colleagues and acquaintances at MIT. Even Pepper had sent you a text regarding something called the Sokovia Accords. Your fingers trembled as you scrolled through the posts, the images and videos of chaos and destruction filling the screen. Your mind raced, trying to piece together what had happened while you were unaware.
Among the thread of messages, Pepper's stood out the most. "We need to talk. This is serious. Call me as soon as you can," it read. You could almost hear the urgency in her voice, and it made your stomach churn. You quickly dialed her number, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for her to pick up. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Hey sweetheart, are you okay?" She asked, her voice filled with concern. "I don't know," You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "What even are the Sokovia Accords?" You heard Pepper sighed on the other end of the line.
"It's a long story, but to put it in the simplest terms, it's a set of legal documents that will regulate the activities of enhanced individuals." You felt a cold chill run down your spine as Pepper explained the implications. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, and you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. "Just be careful, okay?" You nodded even if she couldn't see you. "I will, I love you." As she echoed those words back, you hung up. The world seemed to be against you today, because not even seconds after you set your phone down, there was a knock present at your door.
It made your heart drop, especially since no one knew you were back in New York. Slowly, you reached for the knife hidden by your bedside table, adrenaline coursing through your body as you slowly inched toward the front door. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached the door. Taking a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Peering through the peephole, you saw a shadowy figure standing just beyond the threshold, their features obscured by the dim hallway light. With your hand gripping the knife tightly, you cautiously unlocked the door, ready to defend yourself if necessary.
As the door creaked open, the figure stepped forward into the light, revealing a familiar face. "Uncle Clint," You breathed out immediately tackling the man in a hug. He instantly reciprocated, tightening his hold on you. “You ready to get the hell out of here, kid?” You couldn’t contain your smile, immediately nodding. Not needing anything else but your phone and keys, you locked your door following Clint down the steps. "Where are we going?" You asked, your curiosity piqued. "Germany," He replied nonchalantly making you stiffen momentarily.
Turning back as if sensing your unease, he gave you a reassuring smile. "I'm assuming you've heard the news about the Accords." You nodded, climbing into the passenger seat of his van as he unlocked it. "We just have to make a quick pitstop first." As you settled into the seat and the van roared to life, your thoughts instantly started racing. "What's the pitstop for?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady. Clint glanced over at you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Just picking up some... backup," He said cryptically as the sense of anticipation grew as you wondered what lay ahead.
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Arriving in Germany at the Leipzig-Halle Airport, it was safe to say you were a nervous wreck. Especially since the 'backup' Clint had meant was breaking Wanda Maximoff out of the Avengers Compound and picking up someone named Scott Lang. Thankfully, the witch had promised to stay out of your head so she couldn't read your inner turmoil. However, just by your body language, anyone could tell you were not 'okay'. "You okay, kid?" Clint's voice asked softly, his paternal instincts kicking in.
You managed a weak smile. "Yeah, just… thinking." The van's engine hummed softly as it entered the airport car garage, the dim lighting casting long shadows on the concrete walls. Clint raised a brow in your direction as the van entered the airport car garage, his eyes searching yours. "About what?" You hesitated, unsure of how to answer. "Everything," You finally admitted. "The Accords, my dad…" Clint nodded understandingly. "Yeah, it's a lot to take in." He paused, then added, "You don't have to do this, you know. You can still walk away." His words echoed in your head.
He was right, there was nothing stopping you from walking away, especially since your father was in support of the Accords. However, something about how he was willing to start a divide within his closest friends made you angry. Maybe it was because he had failed to hear you out, just as he had failed to hear Steve’s side of the argument. The memory of your father’s dismissive tone and the way he brushed off your concerns played over and over in your mind, fueling your decision. It was safe to say you had already made up your mind.
Turning in your seat, you gave Clint a smirk, a spark of defiance lighting up your eyes. "No chance in hell." His smile widened at your words, and he reached over to squeeze your hand. The van came to a sudden halt, jolting you slightly. Only then did you realize that Steve Rogers was a few feet away, his broad shoulders and familiar stance unmistakable. He had his back turned to you, deep in conversation with two other figures. "Does Steve know I'm here?" You asked, a mix of anticipation and apprehension threading through your voice.
"He does now," Clint shrugged, his tone casual but reassuring. "Here goes nothing" You mumbled to yourself as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "You know I wouldn't have called if I had any other choice," You heard Steve say to Clint as he extended his hand in a firm handshake. His voice was steady, but you could detect the underlying strain. Only then did his blue eyes find yours over Clint's shoulder. They widened slightly, a mix of surprise and relief washing over his features. "Y/N?" Steve breathed out, almost as if trying to decipher if you were real or not.
You lifted your hand in an awkward wave, finding the courage to step forward. Only, the super solider beat you to it. In two strides he was at your side, scooping you up into a much needed hug. His embrace was strong and warm, enveloping you in a sense of security you hadn't felt in a long time. You squeezed him back just as eagerly, hoping that through the hug you could tell him you were on his side. "It's so good to see you," He murmured into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "I just wish it was under different circumstances." You nodded, pulling back your eyes searching his face for any signs of the unease you knew he must be feeling.
"You know I've always got your back." You smiled, giving him a mock salute which made him laugh. "Nice to see you again, kid." You turned locking eyes with Sam Wilson who was giving you a teasing smile. "Hi Sam." You grinned, eyes landing on the figure standing beside him. Dressed in a red Henley, his posture was rigid, and his expression was guarded. "Y/N, this is Bucky." Steve introduced him, almost as if reading your mind. Bucky's intense gaze met yours, and for a moment, you felt a shiver run down your spine.
His eyes were a stormy blue, filled with a depth of experiences that seemed to weigh heavily on his shoulders. Despite his tough exterior, there was something about him that intrigued you, a vulnerability that was almost palpable. Here it comes. Bucky thought to himself watching as your eyes flickered with recognition. "You're Sergeant James Barnes," You couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and empathy for the man standing before you. Bucky nodded slowly, his expression softening just a fraction. "Just Bucky," He corrected gently, as if trying to distance himself from the past that still clung to him.
You offered a small, understanding smile. "It's an honor to meet you, Bucky. I've heard a lot about you." You could have sworn you saw his lip twitch into a faint smile, almost as if for a brief moment the walls he had built around himself seemed to lower. Steve cleared his throat, breaking the moment. "Thanks for having my back." He nodded towards Wanda who stood behind you with her arms crossed. "It was time to get off my ass." Her expression was one of casual indifference, but her eyes held a spark of determination. "It was time to get off my ass," She shrugged nonchalantly, her tone light but her commitment evident.
The corner of your mouth lifted into a smile at her straightforwardness. "How about our other recruit?" Steve questioned, turning his attention to Clint. His eyes met Steve's with a knowing look, and he gave a slight nod, signaling his readiness. "He's ready to go," He coaxed turning to open the sliding door of the van. "I had to put a little coffee in him, but he should be good." As Scott slowly blinked the sleep from his eyes, Wanda stepped in front of you, her stance protective, almost as if shielding you from his gaze. "What time zone is this?" You heard him huff, his voice gravelly and tinged with sleep as he climbed out of the van with Clint's encouragement.
You watched as his eyes widened when they landed on Steve, almost as if not believing Captain America himself was standing in front of him. His expression shifted from confusion to awe, his mouth slightly agape. "C-Captain America," He breathed out, the words barely more than a whisper. "Mr. Lang." Steve nodded politely, extending his hand out for him to shake. The gesture was calm and composed, a stark contrast to Scott's jittery excitement. "It's an honor," Scott beamed, his face lighting up with a wide grin as he proceeded to shake Steve’s hand longer than was deemed normal.
"Wow, this is awesome," You heard him mumble to himself. The awe in his voice was infectious, and you had to stifle a laugh as Steve and Sam shared a knowing look. "I know you too, you're great," He praised, turning to Wanda with an earnest smile. You saw her eyes light up, a genuine smile spreading across her face as she acknowledged his compliment. "Y/N Stark," His attention now shifted to you. "I'm a huge fan, your Mind-Weaver pitch was compelling. Should help a lot of people too." His words were sincere, and you could see the genuine appreciation in his eyes.
That was the first time you had heard someone acknowledge you as well as your work outside of being Tony Stark's daughter. It was a refreshing change, and you had to admit it felt good. A sense of pride swelled within you, and you couldn't help but smile back at him. Turning back to Steve, Scott nervously fiddled with his hands, his fingers twitching as he tried to gather his thoughts. "Uh, look, I want to say, I know you know a lot of super people, so thanks for thinking of me." He smiled appreciatively. "They tell you what we're up against?" Steve asked, his voice steady and calm.
"Something about some psycho assassins," Scott replied, his tone a mix of curiosity and concern. Steve nodded, his expression grim. "We're outside the law on this one, so if you come with us you're a wanted man," Steve warned, his eyes locking onto Scott's, ensuring he understood the full implications of joining their cause. "Yeah well, what else is new," Scott shrugged. "We should get moving." Bucky suggested, speaking up for the first time in a while. His voice was low but carried a sense of urgency. Clint nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the room as if already planning their next move.
"Thanks to Y/N's help, we got a chopper lined up," He added, acknowledging the crucial role you played. Suddenly, a buzz emitted from the intercom, sharp and insistent, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife. It sounded urgent. "They're evacuating the airport." Bucky translated, his eyes narrowing as he processed the information. "Dad," You breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. You picked at your nail polish, trying to distract yourself from the anxiety that was building up inside you, avoiding everyone's piercing gaze that seemed to bore into you, seeking answers.
After a moment of heavy silence, Steve seemed to mull over his options, his jaw clenched tightly. The tension in the room was almost palpable, each second stretching into an eternity. Finally, he made his decision. "Suit up," He commanded, his voice firm and resolute. You held your breath, suddenly feeling the realness of the situation wash over you like a cold wave. The gravity of what lay ahead settled in, and the room seemed to shrink as your heart pounded in your chest. This was it. You were officially going to face your dad in what very well might be the endgame.
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starstruck-sillies · 2 days ago
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Me, foolishly: Oh man, I should join a pro-endo server, maybe I got the wrong idea about endos and maybe they're actually decent!
Days of bullshit about headspaces being "automatically there" and "not created", people acting like the headspace is a real place, people praising "tulpamancers" for being "so helpful and intelligent and amazing" (eugh) and a wide variety of other nonsense later: Ah.
-Xero
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iichfilwypj · 2 days ago
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HII how are youu? I was just wondering if you could maybe write a part 2 of the "love at first sight" fic you just wrote! Its soo good but honestly it's fine if you cant :)
remember to drink water 💙
love at first sight? ² | percy jackson
part 1 ღ percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader ღ warnings: a lot of tension!!! it gets a bit sexual but not that much i promise! no smut or anything,, ღ wc: 1.137 hii! i'm so late, but i hope you like it! sorry if you were expecting something else, i really didn't know how this could end except like this! i love u!
While waiting, Percy’s mind raced with possibilities. 
He pictured her stepping through the branches, as stunning as before, offering her name, and maybe even a kiss. 
Although, maybe the kiss was too much; a simple hand shake would suffice.
But then, doubts crept in—she might ghost him, turn out to be some monster trying to kill him, or show up with someone else.
The distant rustle of leaves drew his attention, one hand going to his pocket—for his new sword—and the other messing with his hair—to make sure it looked decent; you know, just in case.
Riptide remained untouched. A slender hand appeared, pushing them aside with ease to reveal what he had been waiting for. 
And she looked even more breathtaking than before. 
Her hair wasn’t all down anymore; half of it was tied up, a pink bow in it. Her cheeks were still adorned with the same soft pink flush, that shade that never seemed to fade. Her long lashes framed her eyes, and her lips—God, there was no doubt that some makeup had made them look perfect, so kissable.
Percy couldn’t help but swallow hard, his breath hitching.
“Hi, Percy,” She drew closer, stopping directly in front of him and simply gazing at him.
His heart hammered in his chest. He was intimidated—he had no clue what to do. He’d never been in this situation with such a beautiful girl.
But at that moment, a thought struck him. 
Who cares? I’m a God’s son; things can’t possibly go that wrong.
So his serious expression melted away, and he grinned—sideways and confident. His gaze sharpened with a renewed sense of purpose.
“Hey,” He answered, voice taking on a teasing edge as he took a step forward. The air around him seemed to shift as her perfume surrounded him. 
Gently, he brought his hand up to her shoulder, his fingers almost trembling as they touched the fabric of her shirt, and, with the same softness, he swept a lock of hair away.
His smile grew just a little more as he felt the delicate flutter of her response, a tiny shift in her posture at his touch.
“Are you going to tell me your name, or are we keeping up the mystery?” Percy asked, his grin playful.
Hell, she was taken aback.
Just a few hours ago, he had seemed so lost, confused about what was happening, and clearly intimidated by her. She was used to that, but now, things felt completely different.
He was gorgeous, his dark hair casual and his face something straight out of a movie. His green eyes held her attention, captivating in a way that was hard to ignore.
The shift in his confidence left her more than a little intrigued.
And she was always prepared for any challenge that might come.
Her name slipped from her lips, and Percy felt a sense of awe. It was the most beautiful name he’d ever heard, and somehow, he knew he wouldn’t forget it anytime soon.
“So, Percy, where’d you go? I didn’t see you at dinner,” She asked, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the bracelet on her wrist.
“Oh, a lot; camp’s a total blast.” Percy said with a grin, enjoying the irony.
“Really? You didn’t seem bored with me,” she raised an eyebrow.
“I said camp was boring, not you.” 
Her head tilted playfully. “You're cute, Percy,” She laughed.
And just like that, Percy spotted it: a faint, subtle kiss mark resting on her high cheekbone.
With that, it all fell into place; her way of speaking, each of her movements filled with allure, and the undeniable aura that surrounded her—making it obvious that anyone who got to gaze at her had already won the greatest reward.
And that would likely be the only privilege they’d ever have.
She had to be a daughter of Aphrodite.
“D'you figure something out, pretty boy?” Her voice snapped him back to the moment.
“Maybe,” He replied, leaning in slightly. “But I’m still figuring you out.”
The air in that hidden space became incredibly heavy, holding the intense tension that hung between them. 
She had no intention of taking the first move. Her eyes were fixed on his, looking for that sign of desperation she needed to find. Her hands trembled with anticipation, picturing what could come next as she noticed a trace of lust in his green eyes.
Percy quickly grasped the situation. If he wanted anything to happen, he had to be the one to start. He had fallen into her game, but he had gone too far to turn back now.
Too far to lose it.
“Something's telling me I shouldn’t be here, that I should walk away,” He murmured, his hand lifting to gently trace the line of her jaw. “But I think I’m willing to find out.”
“Oh, you sound brave,” She whispered, her hands exploring his chest, testing the waters. “Or maybe you are just reckless,”
“I guess that depends on what comes next.” Percy replied, his eyes glinting with determination.
His hands moved to her neck, holding it tenderly and never breaking eye contact. It was like a contest—each of them daring the other to break first.
“And what do you want to happen next, Percy?” She shivered slightly under his touch, but didn’t pull away. 
“I want to see if you're as fearless as you act.”
As he whispered the words in her ear, her lips parted for just a second; the faintest invitation. Percy couldn’t resist it, closing the distance between them in one swift motion.
As soon as their lips met, their bodies took over, deciding for them. His hands moved to her hair, hers to his biceps. Her nails scratched the skin and he could only push her against the large trunk of the tree, the wood scraping softly her skin as he lifted her.
Percy’s fingers skimmed the edges of her orange t-shirt, feeling the heat of her skin beneath his fingertips. His pulse raced as he felt her legs squeeze his waist and pulled her even closer, feeling the tremble of her chest against his own, the weight of her closeness making his head spin.
She was the first to pull back, lips brushing his lightly before she tilted her head back to rest against the wood. He couldn't stop, pressing soft kisses everywhere he could.
“Wait,” She said, making him tilt his head, slowing down his movements to listen. “Nobody is gonna get jealous, right?”
Last thing she wanted was to kiss a taken guy; there are some limits, y'know.
He smiled, amused. “Don’t make me laugh,”
Her fingers, light as a whisper, traced the line of his jaw, and in that moment, time seemed to stretch. He could feel himself losing control. Her proximity was both a dream and a nightmare.
But her laughter was like music to his ears, and Percy found himself smiling more than he expected. 
“You even have a pretty laugh,” He remarked, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
She raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised by his words. She’d expected something more physical, something a little more bold, but this caught her off guard. She liked it, it was just weird.
“Do you know what you’re getting into?” Her challenge hung in the air, daring him to prove that he was more than just a guy caught up in the moment. “Do you want to?”
But for him it wasn't a challenge, it was what he wanted. Percy held her gaze, something in him shifting, the tone in her voice mixing with a vulnerability he hadn't expected.
His chest tightened as he realized how much he wished to take that step—to cross that line, to get lost in her world.
In any way he could, in any way she’d let him.
He not only wanted to worship her, but to love her.
“Yes, I want to,” Percy said, pecking her cheekbone, right over the kiss mark. “It was love at first sight, I’m not letting you go anywhere now,”
LOVE I'M SO SORRY! this request has been in my inbox for A MONTH! i hope you like it! <3
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