#i had this sitting in my drafts with an intention to come back to it sometime to make my word spill sound more comprehensible
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"𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪…" 𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨
have fun with these :))) | tag me if you use any <333 | send a request if you want more
Getting overly jealous over small interactions.
"So what? You're dating them now?"
Overthinking and overanalyzing every single one of their crushes' actions/words, trying to figure out the intent behind them.
"Do they like me back, or not?"
"I can never figure out what you want from me..."
Constantly trying to confess, but biting their tongue before words come out, just to wonder later what would have happened if they had just said what they meant.
Getting upset over cancelled plans and unanswered texts.
Glances that linger on longer than intended.
Recalling small touches, like brushed hands or a small nudge, and immediately yearning for that warmth again.
"Why don't you get it?"
"Is it not obvious? Am I doing something wrong?"
Feeling mad or annoyed with their crush for not realizing their feelings go deeper than just friendship.
Replaying old memories in their head and wishing to make more.
Feeling unwanted whenever they see their crush giving their time, attention, and affection to someone else.
Trying to subtly touch their crush to hint at their feelings.
The "playful" flirting that they mean with every bit of their heart.
Overcompensating by giving compliments and being extra nice, but feeling frustrated all the same when their crush doesn't seem to notice their efforts.
The constant daydreams about how life would be if they were together.
Avoiding any other romantic pursuit because they're stuck on that one person.
Staring at their crush whenever they laugh or smile and thinking: "I wish I can make this moment last forever."
this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year, and i finally found the motivation to finish lmaooo
#imagine your otp#otp prompts#writing prompts#dialogue prompts#pining#light angst#angst prompts#romance#romance prompts#friends to lovers#kinda cringe but wtv#i felt like sharing
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✩︵ 주문 — MIROTIC!





❝ You want me, you've fallen for me You're crazy about me, you can't escape me I got you under my skin (Ooh) … ❞
⤑ pairing: like crazy!park jimin x shy fem!reader
⤑ genre: smut, fluff, angst, rom-comy vibes, friends-with-benefits, s2l2f2l (they did some things out of order), idiots to lovers, college!au, fuckboy!au, reverse harem, mutual pining, "unrequited love," she fell first but he fell harder.
⤑ wc: 9.3k
⤑ summary: sleeping with your long-time crush was not how planned to confess your undying love to him, but if it was the only way you could be close to him then so be it. jimin's had a lot of lovers, and you're one of them, but why the fuck is he so bothered by the thought of you being with someone else?
⤑ rating: nsfw/explicit - proceed with caution!
⤑ warnings: fuck boy!jimin, popular "it" boy!jimin, shy "loser" girl!reader, lowkey toxic!jimin (i'm not sorry!), making out, bathroom sex, public sex, exhibitionism, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, A LOT of dirty talk, kinda shitty aftercare sorry, protected sex (pocket condoms 😓), JEALOUS jimin like holy shit, possessiveness, angst for a min, heavy pining, feelings realization, miscommunication, arguing, emotionally constipated!jimin, love confessions, angst with a happy ending (sorry nammy :/), not everyone gets a cameo this time sighs sadly.
⤑ date posted: march 9, 2025
⤑ authors note: HEY HEY HEY!!! bet you guys didn't expect this one!!! (i didn't either, random inspo struck me), but literally every single idea i've ever posted about IS sitting in drafts, and this one has been halfway done for weeks, so i figured i'd put it out there as i work on some of my other bigger pieces!
i ALSO just wanted to pop in here and say WOW, thank you so much for your support like... the feedback for my account has been phenomenal, and i want you all to know how touched i am!
with that out of the way, i hope you guys enjoy this fwb!au because wow was this a big one!
𓈒 ꪆৎ masterlist

⁘ preface: i only use bts as face claims! they are my muses, so anything they say or do, do not reflect their real life character!

The first time you ever talked to Jimin was when you had sex with him.
Now you know that sounds bad!
But you had no idea what to do when he had come to you as you hovered awkwardly against one of the walls in the house party you had been forced to attend.
You were the designated driver for all intents and purposes, so the red solo cup that you had clasped in your hand was nothing but plain sprite, which was used as a mixer.
‘Quite the devilish combination’ You couldn’t help but think as you swirled the carbonated liquid around boredly.
The room was stifling, filled to the brim with inebriated, sweaty bodies.
You were surrounded by sex, drugs and alcohol, some couples impatiently groping each other in the corner closests to you, and you forced yourself to look down, your cheeks warm at the blatant show of… affection.
It stunk, the music was too loud, and there were so many places you would rather be than here, like back home in your dorm studying, or watching an episode of your favorite show.
You didn’t fit into places like this, and you were one-hundred percent sure you had that fact stamped to your forehead.
The only pleasant part about this whole experience had been being able to see Jimin.
He was quite popular, and worlds away from you, but you couldn’t help but harbor a school yard crush on the pretty boy.
He was just… tantalizing, with the way he spoke to the way he always held himself with a slight air of seduction. Boys and girls alike were ready to drop to their knees with so much as a word from the man, and you’re ashamed to say that you’re no different.
It was embarrassing, really, with how hard and fast you fell in love with somebody you barely knew, but he shared so much of himself, you felt as though you knew enough.
You know he’s funny, and kind, despite the… whorish, reputation that precedes him.
You’re in no place to judge, truly, because if he were to come up to you right now asking you if you would like to have sex with him, you would say yes.
“Lame party, right?” Sounds a voice from beside you.
You jump ten feet in the air, a bit of your drink spilling out over the edge of the cup as you fumble to keep the damn thing still in your hand.
“Uh – yes?” You answer with a slight grimace, your stomach drops to your ass when said host appears next to you.
Park fucking Jimin.
This was not what you meant! Not so suddenly! Not like this!
You stare at him dumbly as you spiral, and a small smirk tugs at the corner of his plush lips.
“You think?” He asks teasingly.
You instantly stumble to recover from your mistake. “No! Yes, no, I… I just –” You’re blubbering like an idiot, and Jimin seems to take great pleasure at reducing you to a flustered mess, but he relents with a laugh.
“”M just kidding.”
“No! I just… I’m not used to going to this sort of thing.”
“Oh?” Jimin questions with a raised brow.
You put your drink on the small refreshment table next to you so you can wring your hands together as a nervous tick.
“I’m my friend's designated driver for the night, and they knew I wouldn’t be doing anything, so…”
“That’s selfless of you.” He compliments, and warmth spreads from the roots of your hair all the way to the tips of your toes. “Ah,” You try to wave him off. “It’s… it’s nothing. I don’t mind.”
“But also that makes sense.” Your brows furrow. “What makes sense?” You ask.
He bombards your space, hooded eyelids giving you a once over.
You’re suddenly very aware of how dirty and scruffed your converses are, and you fidget a bit under his scrutinizing gaze.
“That you haven’t come to one of my parties before, because I’d recognize your pretty face anywhere.”
Your eyes widened.
Holy shit. Was he hitting on you?
“Oh!” You laugh nervously. “That’s… that’s very sweet of you.” You gulp.
His smirk only gets deeper, and he leans closer so that his breath caresses the shell of your ear. If his intention is for you to be able to hear him over the music, he’s doing beyond a wonderful job at succeeding.
Your eyelids flutter rapidly, and your hands shake, and you have no idea where to put them as you lean back slightly.
“What do you say we go somewhere else?” He asks with a purr, pulling away just enough to gauge your reaction to his proposition.
Now, you’re not an easy girl. Jimin may sleep with anyone he wants, but you’re just not into that sort of thing, and you know better than to –
“Yes, please.” It comes out as a slight whimper, but he hears you nonetheless, because he takes you by the hand and pulls you through the throngs of people.
Your stomach is tied up in knots, and you’re not even sure if you’re still connected to reality.
Instead of taking you upstairs and into his room like you thought he would, he redirects you into the hallway and into the door, and your stomach drops slightly when he turns on the light to reveal a bathroom.
‘It’s nice’ You try to convince yourself, but your train of thought is cut off when a pair of heavy hands lay themselves on your jean-covered hips, pulling you closer to his body and trailing his lips up the side of your neck.
Your breath hitches and you let out a small, “Oh.”
“Do you still want this?” He murmurs into your ear once more, and you find yourself nodding rather enthusiastically, much to your embarrassment. Jimin just chuckles.
He spins you around, and your eyes land on the slope of his neck that disappears into his leather jacket. Fingers tuck themselves under your chin and force you to look at him.
“You’re a shy one.” He coos, and you shiver when his thumb caresses the corner of your mouth, dipping into it just a bit.
“I’m not used to this.” You admit with a self-deprecating grimace. “What a shame.” Is all he says before tilting your head back and connecting your lips.
The kiss is soft, softer than you would have expected from your soon to be hookup.
You’ve heard through the grapevine that he’s rather ferocious with his kissing, with spit and teeth, but somehow still making sure it's nice for his partner.
He cups your wrists and guides your hands to tangle themselves in his black mullet, and you’re relieved to be able to do something with your hands.
A whimper escapes you when his palms press you to him by the lower part of your back, turning you to the nearest wall for balance.
Soon, the kiss turns hungry, and you can feel the strain of him against his tight black pants, and you tremble, like putty in his hands.
You try your best to keep up with him, kissing back with a lot more fervour than you’ve ever done before.
You’ve had sex once, and that was just because you wanted to lose it before college, just so you could say you did it.
It was awkward because it was with one of the guys from your English class, and he looked like he didn’t know what he was doing either. It was stiff and it burned, and you weren’t sure if you were even turned on enough to participate in penetrative sex.
Well, the same can’t be said for you now, because you can feel the material of your panties grow damp with arousal, sticking to your folds and causing slight friction.
It’s when Jimin finally rolls his hips into yours is when you finally let out a true, loud moan.
“Thought you were going to be quiet all night.” Jimin teases, and you flush. “I - I’m sorry.” You mutter against his lips.
He pulls back and strokes your cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Relax. ‘M just teasing.”
“Right, right.” You laugh demurely.
He lowers his head to the skin of your neck where he takes the skin of it between his teeth, and your hips buck into his on accident.
“Shit!” You curse, and you slap a hand over your mouth. “You like pain.” He says almost to himself. “Definitely noted.”
You’re not sure what he means by that, but your mind seems to blank when his hands sneak their way to the button of your jeans, fiddling with the metal. That cursed thumb presses into the skin above the hem.
“Do you still want this?”
“Yes, please.” You whimper. Jimin grins and you can feel it, because he places a gentle kiss on the surface. “How polite.”
You swallow a whine at his praise.
He pops them open with practiced ease, and pushes a hand into your pants, hissing when he comes in contact with your wetness.
“Fuck, you’re this wet just from kissing?” He asks in awe.
Jimin finally finds himself in your panties and you gasp when the tips of his fingers press on your clit.
“There it is.” He says to himself triumphantly.
He’s quick to flatten his hand, replacing the tips with the pads of his fingers, drawing quick but fast circles over the pleasurable bud.
“Jimin!” You cry, and your nails rake themselves through his hair, drawing him into you.
You hold him close as he rubs at you, and his free hand keeps himself balanced on the wall just above your hand, completely enveloping you with his body.
“Feels so good.” You mewl, and he nearly growls.
“God, you’re so cute.” He groans.
He takes his hand away and your eyes furrowed in confusion. Was it something you said?
You don't have much time to think because you’re being spun around and bent over the counter, and you’re face to face with your debauched features.
“Jimin?” You ask, but you’re cut off by him snatching your pants and underwear down your hips and they pool at your ankles.
You threaten to turn a scarlet red when he spreads your legs as far as they can go and just stares at your sex.
“Such a pretty pussy.” He rasps and you shiver.
He looks up and meets your gaze in the mirror, making to take his leather jacket off.
“‘M gonna fuck you with my fingers, then I’m actually gonna fuck you. Sounds good?”
“Amazing.” You squeak.
He presses his hand on your lower back to keep you anchored to the marble counter, while the other slips a finger in till he reaches the knuckle.
Your jaw drops in a silent moan, the slight stretch of it hurts for a moment, but your body soon adjusts to it, because he draws it out, no wonder noticing how it glistens in the dim lighting.
Then, he thrusts it back in, over and over and over again until a second one finds its place next to it.
The sounds that escape your cunt are disgusting, and you cross your arms to bury your head in them.
You’ve never felt pleasure like this before, and when he curls his fingers just right, you all but wail.
“Found it.”
He abuses your g-spot with a certain kind of cruelty, and an arm slips out from under you to scratch at the surface of the counter. Of course you don’t leave any marks, but the bluntness of your nails make it a makeshift anchor to this earth.
“Just listen to you.” He huffs. “She’s so sloppy.”
“Don’t – don’t say that.” You whine in humiliation.
“Why not?” There’s amusement in his voice, and you hate how it makes another of arousal leak around his digits.
“‘Cause that’s dirty.”
Jimin laughs. He actually fucking laughs and all you can think about is crawling into a hole forever.
“There’s a lot about me that’s dirty, sweetheart.”
You shake at the nickname, and he notices.
“Oh? You like it when I call you that?”
The condescension in his voice pushes you closer to the edge, and you can feel that familiar knot form in your stomach, the one you’re only able to create by yourself.
You clench around him and he gawffs.
“It seems like I’m not the only one that’s dirty.” He remarks. “What else should I call you?” He acts like he’s thinking as he twists his wrist into you without mercy, your legs shake.
There’s tears threatening to stream down your face.
“Hm. What about babe, or baby? Oh! Better yet, how about darling? Hm? Would you like that darling?”
Hearing him call you such sweet names does something to you, because before you know it, you’re catapulted over the edge. You spasm around him, and he just hums.
“There you go, good girl. That’s it.”
You shake as you come down from your high, and there are hands stroking the outside of your thighs, up your hips, and back down again.
Your eyes flutter open from where they squeezed themselves shut to find he’s already looking at you. His gaze is dripping in dark black molasses sticky with lust and want.
“Can we keep going, or are you at your limit?” Jimin checks in ever so gently.
It makes you feel good knowing that he likes to make sure you know you’re still in control, and despite just having orgasmed, you find yourself painstakingly empty.
“‘M really good.” You slur, and a proud smile takes over his face.
He fumbles with the back of his jeans, and retrieves his wallet where he pulls out a condom from it. You eye it warily.
“I just put it in there yesterday, I promise.”
He makes work of his jeans, and you notice that he’s so so hard, and you almost feel bad for the poor man. Almost being the keyword, because when he releases himself from the confines of his boxers, you gape.
He’s averagely long, maybe even a little moreso, but god, is he thick.
He catches you staring and winks.
“Think you can take it?” He pokes and you huff. “Of course I can.”
He raises a brow at you, but rolls the condom on in a tortuously slow pace.
“Hurry up.” You whine, and he swats your ass.
“Be patient.” He chides with a hiss, but you’re still reeling from the sting of the slap to even comprehend what he just said.
Jimin settles a hand on your shoulder, the other helping him line himself up to your sopping wet entrance.
“Ready?”
“Mhm.”
You both watch each other as he splits you open on his cock, and his head falls back as he groans through his clenched teeth.
“Oh!” You quiver on his length, reaching back to grab one of his hands and breathing out a sigh of relief when he meets you halfway.
He’s twitching inside of you, and you appreciate the few moments to gather your bearings.
“Move, please.” You mewl, and he doesn’t hesitate to listen to you.
Jimin drags himself out, breaking your eye contact to look down at where you’re wrapped around him. You’re so wet, the velvet of your gummy walls are making him feel a little faint.
Then, he thrusts back in until his hips are to your ass, and then he repeats, just for a few slow moments before picking up the pace.
The hand on shoulder pulls you down to meet his thrusts, and you cry out.
“Shit, Jimin!”
“I know, I know – Fuck, you feel so good.”
His plowing is brutal, the tip of his cock spearing and bullying your g-spot with a pace that you can’t quite keep up with.
He releases your shoulder to grab each arm to help his leverage, and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You’re sure you’re drooling, but you can’t find much shame in it because it feels so good.
You know that Jimin has ruined you for anybody else, mind, body, and soul, and you’re not sure how you’re supposed to escape him now.
His grunts and groans are guttural, and you know he’s close. You encourage him by clenching around him.
“God – what happened to the shy girl I met in the living room, huh?” He pants. “All I see now a cock hungry slut.”
You let out a surprised moan at his words.
“Oh, yeah? You like when I call you that? Like when I let you know exactly what you look like?”
“Y-yes.” Is your garbled reply.
“Aw… is my baby too cock drunk to even respond?” Jimin tuts meanly. “That’s okay, because I’ve got you, right?”
He’s giving you whiplash with the mix of his words, and you miss the way he calls you his baby.
“Oh, shit I’m close.” He announces. “You gonna let me cum in this tight little cunt of yours?”
“Mhm! Mhm! Gonna –” You hiccup. “Gonna let you do whatever you want.
That seems to soothe something possessive inside of him because he finally cums, and the pulsing of him against that spongy spot inside of you grows to be too much, because you follow right behind him.
It’s quiet in the bathroom as you both stop to catch your breaths, but he pulls out after a few moments of silence, tying up the condom and tossing it into the trashcan next to the toilet without a care.
“You okay?” He asks as he makes to pull up his jeans, and you’re kind of just… stunned.
Is that it?
“Uh… yeah, I’m alright.” You try not to let the disappointment show on your face as you reach down and tug your pants on as well.
Your arms ache from the strange position they were forced into, as well as your stomach from where it had been digging into the ledge of the counter.
“Good.” Gently pushes you out the way so he can wash his hands.
You just stare at him flabbergasted, kind of at a complete loss at what to say.
Do you ask what you are now? Did this mean anything? Were you just another hookup? Were you –
You’re cut off by soft lips meeting yours, and your stomach flutters something pleasant.
Maybe he did like you back and this was a complete misunderstanding, maybe he –
“Call me if you’d like to have some fun again, yeah?”
He speaks against your mouth.
Somehow he’s managed to scribble down his number and hand it to you, which you take somewhat blindly.
He’s already out of the door before you can blink, sending you a cheeky wave as he disappears into the crowd once more.
Your experience with him already feels like a dream when one of your friends drapes themselves over you.
“Finally found you!” She says with a giggle. “Where were you? Me and Sana have been looking everywhere.”
You cringe as you remember your duty, but before you can respond, her nose scrunches up.
“God you stink. Did you have sex?” She asks in disgust.
“No.” You say with a few blinks. “It’s probably because of the party.”
“Oh… okay.” She giggles.

You’re ashamed to say you’ve met up with him a few times after that, finally having the courage to give him a call after a particularly hard day of finals.
He sure did fuck the stress out of you.
This wasn’t how you imagined yourself finding your way into his world, but if sex was the only way you could have him then so be it.
But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
He still met up with other girls, still blew you off, still kept you as a secret from his friends. You were just another notch on his bedpost, and it made you almost sick to think about.
Time spent with him after sex was just… confusing.
Someday’s he would allow you to stay over afterwards, maybe even asking you to watch a movie with him, or sometimes he would talk around you leaving until you eventually caught the hint.
It was such a push and pull relationship, and you had no idea what all of this was for.
Were you friends? Acquaintances? Fuck buddies? Friends with benefits?
You had no idea what you were or who he wanted to mean to you, but it was slowly ripping you apart.
He had invited you to another party after a particularly long session, and maybe it was just the sleepiness in him talking, but it almost sounded as if he wanted you to be there.
He nuzzles his face into your shoulder, the black of his hair sticking to his forehead due to the sweat.
You nibble on your lip, tugging the duvet up to cover your bare breasts.
The tips of his fingers graze your arm gently even though his eyes were closed, and goosebumps rose under his ministrations.
It was moments like these that you grew fond of because of how few and far in between they were, when Jimin allows that vulnerable side of his to peek through. You found him beautiful.
You couldn’t stop staring at him, even when the muscles in your neck protested the awkward angle.
You could count every freckle on his cheek, every eyelash he had, and you had to bite back a smile at the sight of his crooked front tooth peeking out through his swollen plump lips.
“Mm.” He groans, and forces himself to crack an eye open.
Your eyes flutter in embarrassment at almost being caught, but he seems none the wiser.
“(y/n).” Jimin mumbles. You find a way to wind your arm around his neck, settling a hand in his hair, rolling the ends of the damp strands between your fingers.
“Come to this party ‘m throwing.” Jimin slurs.
You finally allow yourself to smile then. “Why? I’d like to think last time was a bit of a mess.” You tease. He just grumbles. “Never feels like a mess when I’m with you.”
Your smile quickly falls.

It was crowded once again, but you felt a sort of superiority at your fucked up relationship with him.
You went searching around for him; maybe you guys could actually talk this time! Maybe share a beer and talk about your favorite music!
Your body thrummed with all the different types of things you could do when you found him, but not in the way you wanted.
He had another girl pushed up against the wall, just like he had you in the bathroom on that fateful day.
‘But he wasn’t kissing her how he had kissed you’ You tried to reason with yourself, even as tears began to form in your eyes.
This was embarrassing. So fucking embarrassing.
You were so much better than this. You were a smart girl, you had things going for you, your life shouldnt revolve around a man who could not give any less of a fuck about you.
You find yourself stumbling away - backwards might you add - and you accidentally bump into someone, their liquor spilling over and down the back of your shirt.
You yelp, and it’s loud enough to catch Jimin’s attention, but you don’t notice because of how fast you spin around to face the person.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry!”
“Sorry, sorry!”
You and the stranger speak at the same time, and you look up to find that he was quite… handsome.
He was tall, broad shouldered and obviously thick under that sweatervest he was wearing - which fuck it was too hot for that, even for you - and dimples settled into his cheeks and glasses that were raised high on his face, perched on his nose.
“No, no!” You wave away his apology nervously. “It’s fine! It’s my fault, I didn’t see where I was looking!”
“I shouldn’t have been carrying so many open drinks at the same time when I knew how crowded this place was, so it’s okay.”
You just watch as a genuine smile seems to spread on his face.
“How about this: we're both at fault, and we're sorry. Does that sound good?”
You find yourself nodding with a small smile. “Yeah… that sounds good.”
He stares at you, and you stare back, but then your eyes fall on a dark stain on his vest. His eyes seem to follow your gaze because he tries to wave you away this time.
“Hey, listen, it’s fine, it happens all the time! I’d say you took the brunt of it. How about you come with me, and I’ll get you a new shirt?”
Going with a guy that you’ve never met before to “get a new shirt” doesn’t seem like a good idea, but the image of Jimin plastered to that girl is all but tattooed on the back of your eyelids.
“Okay, yeah.”
The man’s smile gets bigger, but then falls as his gaze flickers to something behind you. Your brows furrow in concern, but before you can turn around, an arm slides itself around your waist.
“I think I’ve got it from here. Thanks man.”
You’re surprised to see Jimin next to you all but glaring at the tall man’s face, and there’s a prickle of irritation in your gut. The weight of his arm on you feels like a hot iron with the way it burns, and you step out of his grip just slightly.
The guy seems to notice, because his gaze narrows right back at him.
“Is this guy bothering you?” He asks.
Your eyes widen at the sight of the dog fight that might happen before you, and you just sigh.
“No, it’s fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure…” You let your voice die out, and the guy seems to make the connection.
“Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.”
You grin slightly. “(y/n).”
“Great. Bye, Kim Namjoon. Thanks for ruining her shirt.”
Jimin tugs you along behind him, and he’s silent the whole way to his room, and you’re half tempted to snatch yourself from his grip.
“What’s your problem?” You ask once you’re finally safe behind closed doors.
“What do you mean what’s my problem?” Jimin’s voice is hiding a thin layer of anger that you can hear clearly.
“You were such an asshole to him! And he didn’t “ruin” my shirt by the way. It’s just beer. It’ll get out.”
“That doesn’t matter. You were about to fuck off and go with some guy you didn’t even know!” He throws his hands up in the air like it’s obvious.
“Okay? It’s my business on who I go and “fuck off” with. The guy looked nice, so I trusted him.”
He scoffs. “Oh yeah, so you just trust any guy that asks you to leave with him? It’s so obvious he wanted to fuck you, and you were just going to do it with a smile on your face.”
You stare at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious right now.” You breathe.
“Very.” He says flatly.
You encroach in his space, getting in his face and settling him with a glare.
“I came to look for you at a fucking party you invited me to, and then I find you with your tongue down some random girl’s throat.” You sneer. “So forgive me if I’m a little peeved that you’re bothered by who I might go fuck.”
Jimin doesn’t know why he’s so bothered. ‘Doesn’t know why seeing you laughing and smiling with that guy makes something in his gut twist in disgust.
“I don’t like him.”
You lean your face away from his.
“That’s what you’ve taken away from this.” You let out an incredulous laugh, and the amusement behind your eyes is fake.
“I…” You shake your head. “I can’t believe this.”
“You are not who I thought you were.” Something in you wilts. “You are a grade A asshole, Park Jimin.” You spit his name like it’s a slur, and something inside him dies.
“What?” It’s his turn to scoff. “Don’t tell me you like me or something?” He knows he’s being mean, but he’s hurt, and he feels as though he has nothing else left.
“Excuse me?” You look like a kid who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Guilty.
There’s a sickening pleasure that takes root in his heart knowing that you want him like that.
“You’re doing this whole weird, possessive girlfriend thing.” It’s his turn to step in your space.
“Well, sorry to say, but were just fuck buddies. I don’t want to be with you. All I want you for is a booty call, nothing more, nothing less.”
His words are like a knife to your heart and you deflate.
The tears burning behind your eyes finally fall, and your hand twitches at your side.
“I fucking hate you.” Is all you can say.
You push him out your way and he lets you, watches as you leave.
‘Good’ He thinks.
He tries to convince himself that the quicker he cuts this thing off, the easier things will get, because he doesn’t like you like that.
Right?
Right.

Your head was pounding by the time you had found your way back to your dorm, your shaking hands made it near impossible to get the key in the lock, but you managed it.
You hadn’t expected Sana to be there, bed engulfed by books and different studying utensils.
“Hey.” She greets mindlessly, flicking through papers in a certain folder before huffing and closing it when she clearly doesn’t find what she needs.
Your grip on your keys grows weak and they clatter to the floor, and she looks up in alarm, just as you take in a loud, pitiful sniffle.
“Oh, (y/n).”
She scrambles to get up and you fall forward, trusting her to catch you, and she does, even if she’s extremely confused.
You’re sobbing into her shirt, and your chest twists and everything just hurts.
Jimin’s words feel like a slap in your face, and your heart burns like you had actually been slapped. You would have preferred that if you were going to be honest.
“(y/n), please. You have to tell me what’s wrong.”
“I liked him.” You sob. “I liked him so much, and, and, and –” You’re close to hyperventilating at this point, and Sana just seems to grow more anxious, because she pulls away from you and cups your cheeks.
“You need to breathe for me.” She says with a nervous albeit reassuring smile.
You attempt to take a deep breath.
“Good, that’s good, just keep trying.”
Eventually, your breathing evens out, and she leads you over to your twin bed, seeing as hers is a bit of an organized mess right now.
“Now, can you finally explain to me what happened?”
Your hands shake as you make to pick at your cuticles, but she catches the habit before you can get to it, encasing your hands in hers.
“There’s a lot of things that you don’t know.”
“Okay…”
“But you know I like Jimin, right?”
“Mhm, like… big time.”
“Well, do you remember that party that you and your friend forced me to?”
“Mhm.”
“Well… while I was waiting for you guys to be ready to go, Jimin approached me.”
“Oh my god?” She says excitedly, but you give her a sad smile.
“Don’t get excited just yet.”
“Anyways,” You continue. “He talked to me, then invited me to… you know, sleep with him.” Your cheeks burn as Sana stares at you dumbfounded, but you keep going. “The sex was great, don’t get me wrong, but he was so distant after everything was done.”
“He gave me his number and asked me to call him if I ever wanted to hook up with him again.”
“Douche.”
“Sana.”
“Sorry not sorry.”
You laugh a bit and she grins, relieved.
“Well, I did.”
“(y/n).” She sighs, releasing one of her hands to rub at her forehead.
“I know, I know! I also know I’m gonna sound really stupid when I say that I thought he actually liked me, but he… but he said some things to me tonight that really broke my heart.”
“Before we get to that, what made you think he likes you back?” She wasn’t trying to be mean by asking the question, you knew better.
“Because there’ll be moments after we are done hooking up where he’d be super sweet. Like, sometimes he would cuddle me, or ask me to watch a movie, just things outside of the common hookup aftercare.”
“But then tonight,” You sighed. “I went to the party he invited me to, and caught him making out with some other girl, and so I went to leave but then I bumped into this guy.” You smile a bit at the memory.
“His name is Kim Namjoon, and he was super sweet – spilled a fuckton of beer on my shirt though.”
“So that’s why you smell like that.”
“Yep.” You laugh. “And then Jimin came up and acted all… jealous and possessive and shit. Took me up to his room, we argued, he accused me of liking him and laughed in my face and called me just his fuck buddy after I didn’t deny that I did.”
You look up to find Sana seething.
“I’m going to call Taehyung.”
Taehyung was one of Jimin’s best friends, and he was currently groveling at Sana’s feet trying to be with her. Though she likes him, she wants to make him work for it just to see if he’ll lose interest, even though you know it’d kill her if he actually did.
“Why?”
“To break it off with him in solidarity.”
“What?!” You asked incredulously. “No, absolutely not. Taehyung is a good guy. You don’t need to do that for me.”
She regards you with a raised brow.
“Are you sure?”
You find yourself nodding. “Kinda need some roomie time right now.” Your eyes fall to her studying materials. “But if you’re too busy, I –”
“Nope. Let’s go.”
You laugh joyously as she begins to put her things away, and you make for the small fridge in your room where your sweet treats are held.
Maybe things are going to be okay.

The next week is like a living hell.
You’ve basically made it your life’s mission to avoid Jimin as much as possible. You had already blocked him after a few encouraging words from Sana.
She still ended up calling Taehyung in the end, putting him in the dog house until his friend got his shit together. You could almost hear his pout as he begged her not to. She hung up on him.
The weather was nice, with early spring wandering around, you could finally start to wear flowier clothing, as well as study outside again.
Your head is so immersed in your book that you don’t see someone approach your table until a finger gently breaches your line of vision and taps the page.
You startle a bit and look up, and you're greeted by Namjoon’s sheepish face.
“Sorry, I didn’t know another way to get your attention, you looked really focused.”
“That’s sweet, but it’s okay. You could’ve interrupted me.” He gestures to the seat across from yours. “Can I sit?”
“Yeah, yeah! Go ahead!” You begin clearing things out of his way, and he smiles gratefully.
“I didn’t see you again after you left.” With that guy, is what’s unspoken, but you caught it anyways. “Yeah… uh – something came up, so I had to leave early.
His mouth forms an ‘o’ shape and he nods. “I see.”
“Yeah.” You grimace.
“Well I –” Namjoon swallows nervously. “I wasn’t able to tell you, but I think you’re beautiful.”
Your eyes widen. “Oh.” You breathe in surprise, and the man visibly deflates. “Unless that guy was your boyfriend, then I’m sorry! Oh, God, I should have asked first.”
“No, no! He’s not my boyfriend.” You reassure him. “‘M surprised, is all; and very, very flattered.”
You know you should reject his advances, but you’re hurt, and he’s just… so sweet. A complete contrast to Jimin, and you think he’s the change of pace that you needed.
“I think you’re handsome if that makes you feel any better.” The words feel wrong coming out of your mouth, but you grin nonetheless when his cheeks warm an admirable red.
“I…” You meet each other's eyes, and look down at the same time, laughing shyly.
Maybe Namjoon could be good for you.

“You look pathetic, man.” Taehyung speaks through a mouthful of instant ramen disgustingly.
Jimin hits him upside the back of his head, and the poor boy winces.
“Ow!”
“Don’t forget you’re in the dog house too, idiot.” Jungkook mumbles from his side of the table.
“So what you’re telling me is that you want me to beat your ass?”
“I’m just saying.” He shrugs. “Hyung fucked up, and now you’re being punished by association. No (y/n) means no Sana.”
Jungkook’s right.
Ever since that night, Jimin’s desperately been trying to forget about you, about how hurt you looked. He almost feels sick thinking about it.
He admits that he could have handled that situation a lot better, but it was like something had taken over him. As soon as he’d seen you with Namjoon, and how willing you looked, something inside him just… snapped.
“I’m just waiting for hyung to admit that he was jealous and go and fix it.” Taehyung says simply. “It’s obvious that he’s in love with her, and I have no idea why he won’t just go and tell her.”
“I’m not -” Jimin hissed, “In love with her.”
“Yeah man, you are.”
Jimin’s eyes narrowed, but his attention was stolen by your laugh.
You were laughing because of him.
You looked so sickeningly demure talking to him, wringing your fingers together and kicking out your legs as a nervous tick. You usually only ever did that when you were with him.
Jimin liked the effect that he had on you.
He liked how your eyelashes fluttered when he complimented you, how you held on to him when he fucked you, how you kissed him back like you meant it. Sure, your body was nice, but so was your personality.
You were kind, studious, selfless, and he wasn’t sure what drew you to him the first night he had met you.
He thought that your hidden affections were all for him, but it proves that he was mistaken. That’s fine. You could be with anybody that you wanted to.
‘Just not him’ Is supplied unhelpfully.
The thought shouldn’t bother him as much as it does.
It’s just… Jimin doesn’t do the whole commitment thing. The last time he had a partner, it blew up in his face, so he just finds that casual one night stands was just the easier way to go.
But things between you and him were never casual to begin with, huh?
“Listen,” Taehyung starts once more, and points his chopsticks at Jungkook. “Jimin-hyung, he'll realize what he wants when it’s too late. Girls like (y/n) don’t come around as often as they should.” Then, he dives back into his noodles.
Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed. Were they right?
He turns his head to look at them. “Was it ever casual between me and her?” He can’t help but ask.
“No.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Wow, okay.”
“I mean, you let her sleep in your bed, hyung.” Jungkook basically scoffs. “You’ve never let any of your hookups stay the night, or cuddle with you; yet somehow she’s different.”
Different.
That was the key word here.
You were different.

The last few weeks with Namjoon have been nice.
The man was smart, and kind, and overall just a sweet, gentle giant that deserved everything in the world; but you knew deep down in your heart that you couldn’t be the one to give him that.
You saw it in the way that he looked at you, starry-eyed on his worst day, and heart-eyed the best. You can’t find it within yourself to feel flattered by it anymore, because you know that you don’t deserve it.
You don’t deserve his chivalry, his affection, and maybe - hopefully not - his love.
You’re ashamed to say that this whole rebound business blew up in your face like you went ahead and personally strapped the bomb to yourself.
You didn’t know how to tell him you didn’t like him like that, just how you had no idea how to tell Jimin you loved him after months of sleeping with him; exactly how that fateful night you said yes instead of no.
The words on the pages in front of you bled together like a big blob of ink, and Namjoon’s large foot snuck over to yours under the table and trapped it playfully.
You tried not to allow the grin you gave him to look like a grimace, even as he acted like he was reading as well. You were sure both of your reasons were entirely different.
You needed to put a stop to this, you needed to tell him you didn’t see him that way and you just wanted to be friends.
“Hey, Namjoon –”
“Do you want to go on a date with me?”
“Of course.”
Fuck.
The look that Namjoon gave you was beaming, and you felt tears sting at the back of your eyelids.
You said yes to a date like the stupid, idiotic, selfish, terrible person you are.
Namjoon had offered to walk you back to your dorm after your study session was over, but you couldn’t look at him anymore, the guilt crawling around in your stomach becoming something almost too much to handle.
“No thanks, Nammy.”
“Okay.” He pouts a bit. “But you be safe, alright?”
For the first time today, you gave him a true smile. “I will!”
The walk back to your dorm was slow, and heavy hearted, and you were so lost in your head, you couldn’t see that you were about to walk into someone until their hand shot out and caught you.
“Oh!” You squeaked, your head shooting up.
Your eyes widened at a very disgruntled looking Jimin.
He didn’t look as put together as he used to; his black mullet ruffled out of place and his black leather jacket rather wrinkly.
“(y/n).” He spoke.
It had felt like forever since you heard his voice, and it took you everything in your power to not shut your eyes and bask in it.
You swallowed heavily. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“But I do.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“(y/n) please.”
You stare at him before huffing and crossing your arms. “Fine.”
“Thank you.” He breathes, and you finally notice how close you are, because you stumble back to finally put some space in between the two of you. If Jimin’s hurt by the action, he doesn’t show it.
You hate how much that bothers you.
“I fucked up.”
“No.” You instantly put a hand out to stop him. “You don’t get to say that to me.”
“What?”
“You started this whole thing, Jimin! I… I admit that I do like you, and I’ve liked you for a long time, but you don’t get to be the one to say you “fucked up” and regret everything you did.”
“Why not?” He asks, almost offended.
“Because you’ll never change!”
Jimin looks taken aback by your outburst.
“You’ll tell me you’re sorry, we’ll fuck, and then it’ll be this process all over again. You don’t get to just do that! I need full commitment, and that’s not something you’re able to give me.”
“Plus,” You continue, taking in a deep breath. “I’m seeing someone right now.”
Jimin fucking snorts.
“Don’t tell me you have a date with the Namkim guy.”
“It’s Namjoon, and yes, I am. He’s nice.”
“Oh, is that it? He’s just nice?”
“And… and he’s smart too!” You exclaim almost petulantly. “He gives me flowers and tells me how much he likes me all the time, unlike you, who’s so emotionally constipated that not even laxatives would be able to help you!”
“Wha –” Jimin laughs in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me! I’m gonna go on a date with a guy who actually likes me!”
You straighten your tote bag on your shoulder and brace yourself, straightening your posture.
“Now if you excuse me, I have a date to plan for, and homework to do.”
“What? (y/n)! Come back, I’m sorry!”
“No!”

You’re not going to lie and say you didn’t replay your entire interaction with Jimin for the rest of the week.
There was something about talking to him that gave you the energy to get through class, the haunting realization that maybe he was worth a damn.
Wondering what would have happened if you had allowed him to apologize instead of cutting him off, of accepting his apology and allowing yourself to be with him in that way.
But you know, you know that if you were to go back to your old routine with him, it’d kill you. It’d kill you to watch him flirt with other people, or watch him take them home.
You fiddled with the strap of your dress, staring at yourself in the mirror and feeling awkward at the fact that the material only looked good if you didn’t wear a bra.
You were going to a restaurant with Namjoon; it was a nice, original first date idea. You’d talk over food, and get along just fine!
Namjoon was a nice guy. He was sweet, and he wouldn’t try to fuck you on the first date.
Oh, God, would he?
You really hope not.
“Damn girl.” Sana whistles from her spot on her bed. “You look sexy! You’re gonna blow that nerd’s socks off!”
“Sana.” You warned. “Be nice! He’s not a nerd. He’s just studious.”
“Sure. Every Philosophy major is studious.” She giggles to herself.
“Oh! Do you think he’s a virgin?!”
“Sana!” This time it’s a whine, but your arguing is interrupted by a couple knocks on the door.
“Oh, God, it’s him!” You whisper in a panic.
You continue to mess with the front of your dress, pulling the hem up at the top to try and hide as much boobage as possible.
“Stop!” Your roommate hisses. “You look great!”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah! Now go!”
You waddle over to the door and pull it open, your heart melting at the sight of a good looking Namjoon in front of you.
His hair was tastefully rumpled, a button up shirt tucked into a pair of slacks that hugged his thighs deliciously.
Wow, you were really hogging this man for yourself.
There was another stab of guilt when his eyes fell on your figure and he swallowed, his cheeks painting themselves an adorable pink.
“W – wow, (y/n). You look amazing.”
“Thanks.” You say shyly. “Should we go?”
“Oh! Of course, of course!”
He offers you his arm and you take it.
The conversation between the two of you was kept light, even as you got into the Uber that he had paid for.
“I uh – I don’t have my license.” Namjoon had sheepishly admitted to you one day.
He usually rode his bike to places, so you were surprised to see that he had splurged for today.
Shame burns in your gut once again.
(y/n): 0, Guilt and shame: the winner.
The restaurant was nice as you were led to your table, and very quiet.
You shuffled around in your seat, sheepishly ordering water as Namjoon looked over the menu.
“I’m so happy we're doing this.” Namjoon says after you get your drinks, and you sip on the freezing tap water.
“Yeah…” You speak after a few hefty gulps of your drink.
“I meant it when I said you looked gorgeous tonight.”
“Ah…” You fluster. “Where did all this confidence come from?”
“It comes from me wanting to ask you a question that you’ll answer truthfully.”
Instantly your heart falls into your ass, because you know exactly what’s coming.
“I might be a bit of a stick in the mud, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind, (y/n).”
“I can see that you haven’t really been in any of… whatever we have going on. And I’m not even going to lie, I don’t even think we’ve had anything to begin with.”
“What gave it away?” You ask with a grimace. “That.”
“That?”
“That thing you do with your face when you lie.”
You blink at him in surprise.
“Oh.”
“And you’ve done it every single time I’ve tried to flirt or compliment you. I’m surprised you even agreed to go out with me.”
“I…” You feel like you’re going to throw up. “I swear I didn’t mean to lead you on! There’s just been this thing, and I can’t tell you what it is –”
“Yes you can.”
“Pardon?” You ask in surprise.
“You know exactly why you can’t commit fully to this.”
“I…” You deflate in your seat, fiddling with the napkin. “You’re right.”
“It’s that guy, right? The one from the party?”
Namjoon’s words aren’t hurt, judgemental, or angry, they’re just factual. Like how he gets when he breaks down a piece of difficult text in one of his ancient little books he likes to read.
“I should start from the beginning shouldn’t I?”
“We’ve got all night.”
So you do. You start from that night at the party, over how you’ve felt these last few weeks, even as the food had come and gone, you two hadn’t stopped talking.
You had refused to let him pay at the end of the night, and you literally almost had to fight him over splitting the bill.
“This was supposed to be a date.” He speaks with a pout, and you just laugh.
You two worked well as friends, because you nudged his foot. “Yah! We can go on another date soon, okay?”
He just laughs with a shake of his head.
When you guys leave, you offer to pay for your shared Uber when you spot someone you weren’t expecting.
Jimin’s in the parking lot, leaning against his car and looking around. When his gaze lands on you, his slouched position straightens, and your heart stutters in your chest.
“This guy is like the fucking boogeyman.” You murmur, and Namjoon laughs once more.
“I uh… may have sort of called him here.”
Your head whips around and you stare at him in betrayal. “What?!”
“Listen. You and him have some shit to work out, and - bless your heart - we both know you don’t have a backbone, so I think it would be better if you both fixed this, or ended it for good.”
You can’t help but just stare at him. “Where did you even get his number?”
“Taehyung. The poor man’s been practically begging me to leave you alone and let Jimin fix this because he’s been sexiled.”
You sigh, glancing over at a waiting Jimin who’s watching you hopefully.
“You won’t be here for solidarity, will you?”
“For both our sakes, I think you know the answer to that.”
You swallow, turning your attention back to him. “I really am sorry about how everything went down between us. You’re a great guy, and I’m sure one day another person will be able to see that. I’m sorry it’s not me.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s alright, I need to worry about my studies anyways.”
You smile sadly at him, and he just chuckles and shakes his head, pulling you into his warm embrace.
“I mean it (y/n),” He starts when you separate, “It’s okay, but you need to go, because Jimin looks like he’s about to throttle me, and I’m not really interested in fighting someone tonight. I have a test in the morning.”
Your smile is a little less sad this time, and he waves you off.
The walk to Jimin feels like a walk to doom; it’s silent, tense, and you’re unsure about where you’ll end up at the end of the night.
“Hi.” You breathe awkwardly. You grasp onto your clutch purse like a lifeline.
“Hey.”
“Uh…” You begin, but Jimin just sighs, opening the passenger door, and gesturing for you to get in. “We need to talk.”
Your shoulders deflate. “Alright.”
Even though he said you needed to talk, the car ride is silent, even as you watch yourself being pulled into a parking lot, the man stopping and turning his car off.
“So, are you going to let me speak this time, or are you just going to cut me off again?”
You scowl. “Is that really how you want to start this conversation?”
“No, no, fuck I’m sorry. I’m already fucking it up.” His hands grip the steering wheel, twisting them around nervously.
“I’m not used to this.”
“Used to what?”
“Dating, feelings, that kind of thing. And I thought that if I hurt you, and never had to see you again, that those things would just go away, but they didn’t.”
He slumps back in his seat, casting his gaze out the window before turning his attention towards you.
“When I saw you with him –”
“Namjoon.”
“Yes,” He all but hisses, “With Namjoon, I felt sick to my stomach. Like something was wrong, like he was taking something from me.”
“But I was never yours to begin with.”
“Yeah,” He sighs. “I know, and that’s the issue.”
“You were right about me being an asshole, because I was. I projected all of my weird, little possessive feelings onto you and totally flipped out when I should have just talked to you.”
“But instead I pushed you away, said things I didn’t mean, and you still went with that guy, and I felt horrible.” Jimin hesitantly reaches out a hand – an olive branch of sorts – and waits for you to take it.
He hopes you take it.
You look at him and back down to his hand, before lifting yours and intertwining your fingers.
“What are you trying to tell me, Jimin? Because… because if we do this friends-with-benefits bullshit again, I think it’ll actually kill me.”
“I don’t think I could handle that even if I tried.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that seeing you with the other people that aren't me makes me feel sick to my stomach, and I’d rather have you all to myself like the nasty, greedy bastard I am.”
“Like a boyfriend.”
Jimin finally smiles.
That beautiful, eye closing smile that makes your heart skip a beat too many.
“Yeah, (y/n), like a boyfriend.”
“Does that make me your girlfriend?”
“I would sure hope so.”
You grin as well, happiness painting over your features as you watch him.
“What does this mean for us now?” He leans forward into your space, and this time you don’t move back, just gazing up at him with wide, curious eyes. “This means that you’ll hopefully let me kiss you.”
“Well lucky for you, I’m feeling nice tonight.”
He snorts and rolls his eyes, yet connects your lips together. Your eyelids flutter shut.
Euphoria. That’s the only feeling you could describe after feeling the plushness of his mouth after so long. It’s felt like centuries since you’ve touched him, and every nerve in your body lights aflame.
You tangle your fingers in his hair, and his hands cup your jaw, tugging you to him over the center console.
“I can’t go that far.” You pant with a chuckle, and he huffs a small smile.
“Backseat?”
“Please don’t tell me you want to have makeup sex in the backseat of your car in the middle of the park.”
“You want to have makeup sex?” His eyes glimmer. It’s your turn to snort. “I thought that was obvious.”
“Then no, we're absolutely not doing that here.”
“Then let’s get out of here.”
“Yes ma’am.”

© yoongsriverandme 2025-26
#𖦹` my original work!#𓈒 ꪆৎ nsfw!#dividers by @cafekitsune#park jimin fluff#jimin fluff#park jimin angst#jimin angst#park jimin smut#jimin smut#park jimin x reader#jimin x reader#jimin x you#jimin x y/n#bts fanfic#bts fanfction#bts oneshot#bts scenarios#bts imagines#park jimin fanfic#jiminfanfic#college au#alternate universe#bts#fanfiction#fluff#smut#angst#kpop#kpop fanfic#bts army
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⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ simple acts of love from skz
—All the times stray kids said I love you in the little things.
words・6.8k pairings・stray kids x reader genres・fluff, a little crack, established relationships warnings・lots and lots of kisses!! happy tears, drunken re-confessions, silliness, playful living room dancing, minhos a shy baby, he's also a little shit in changbins, erotic painting in hyunjins, hans is a little bit more emotional, silly little proposals, my terrible attempt at writing lyrics, jeongin stalks your goodreads profile and buys your entire TBR list like I don't have at least a thousand tbr books...some of these are silly some of these are sickeningly sweet,
a/n・I wrote these drabbles based on these headcanons, but I did change Minho's because I believed it fit him better!! Also, this has been rotting in my drafts for MONTHS im not super proud of them, but I hope you like them anyways.
ᡣ𐭩 chan + sneaking into your bathroom to trace hearts onto the bathroom mirror.
"This is a suicide mission!" his lungs scream as he slips into your inferno of a bathroom, a heavy cloak of steam hugging him instantly. His respiratory system begs for release, a moist cough rolling up his throat; but like the magnificent boyfriend he is, he shoves those rebellious bodily functions right back down his windpipe.
Was his silly little plan worth the ability to breathe? Yes. Did he also wonder how you even could? Also yes.
The mirror fogs like the surface of an ancient lake, obstructing the image of his mischievous grin. He brings a pointer finger to the glass, drawing all his ardor in the mist—though it only comes out as lopsided hearts.
Your voice floats out from behind the curtain, absentmindedly humming to a silent tune. Shadows of your hands move through your hair, your body refracted onto the thin sheet.
You are so beautiful...
Cupid smacks his jaw shut.
He manages to slip out right as the water sputters off, sliding into the living room by his socks. He face-plants onto the couch, scrambling to sit upright. The loud smack of your towel echoes in his ears as his wide eyes dart to the table, frantically searching for something to occupy his attention. He snatches the first thing he sees, which just happens to be a... candle?
Whatever, no time!
Chan is intently studying the ocean-blue Bath & Body Works label, when you come pattering out, damp hair dribbling water behind you. The moment you step into his line of sight, his heart plummets—that stupid aromatherapy candle nearly tumbling with it.
There you were, in all your drenched glory, your towel wrapped snug against your chest, tears rolling freely down your cheeks. Did you hear that?! Tears!! You were crying?! Why were you crying?!?!
Chan must have embodied the spirit of a kangaroo, because he’s never jumped up faster in his life.
"Why are you crying? You're supposed to be happy!" he yelps, yanking your body into his arms, water seeping into the thin fabric of his tee shirt. His brain becomes the equivalent of the world’s most fucked-up ambrosia when you begin laughing, the curve of your smile pressed into his chest. He blinks—he doesn't know whether to kiss you or call a priest. Maybe he should do both?
Suddenly you pull away, cocooning his cheeks with pruney hands, your bottom lip wobbling as you sob, "I'm so in love with you."
Well, good job—now he's sobbing too.
"I'm in love with you too, baby."
You had drawn hearts on the walls of his soul in the same way he had drawn them in the steam of your mirror. The only difference is, yours would never fade away.
ᡣ𐭩 minho + randomly sending you songs that remind him of you.
Minho wasn't the type to throw his arms around you, pressing kisses to your face with all his overflowing ardor. Instead, in the minuscule overlaps of time between talking on the phone and constructing a perfect dance routine, he'll find himself sitting dazed upon the lounge room couch, mindlessly nodding to a catchy tune. He had left his Spotify on smart shuffle, finding comfort in the idea of a song found without searching, as if it were fate's gentle finger dusting the path to new adventures. He flutters his eyelids shut, ripples of sound washing over his skin.
And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime
And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine
'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions
Wishing on everyone that you'd be mine, mine
In a rash flood of emotions, he sends you the song just before Chan steps into view, announcing his dire need to finish choreographing the final steps of their newest single. Begrudgingly, he slips his phone into his back pocket, his earbuds following suit. The only thing that keeps him sane throughout the day is the anticipation that he will go home and see you, and that makes it all worth it.
ᡣ𐭩
May I have this dance?" you declare, extending your arm with feigned seriousness, though the playful smile tugging at your lips betrays you instantly.
“What?” Minho chuckles through furrowed brows, observing the unusual surroundings; candles flicker dim lighting on the walls, throwing shadows on the rose petals you had scattered around your living room, forming an intriguing resemblance to a romantic dance floor. He sets the bags of groceries on the ground. Lee Know is so beyond confused, yet also pleasantly surprised, especially when you waltz over to him, tight red dress hugging all your gorgeous curves.
“You still haven't answered my question,” you sing, playfully twirling into his arms. Your hands find their way to the nape of his neck, tracing mindless circles in his hair. A shiver rolls up his spine as you tilt your face forward, lips so close; his heart flutters like a fragile leaf tumbling down from an autumn tree. He blinks before exhaling—
“Of course, I'll dance with you.”
A delighted squeal erupts from your lips, and you jump away from his arms, heading straight over to your phone to play the song he sent you prior. A warm blush floods his cheeks, painting them a bashful red.
“Did you like it?” His eyes fall away from yours.
“Did I like it?? Of course I liked it!” you squeal, gaping at him like he was the dumbest person on the planet. World War Three rages inside his chest as he fights not to fold like a lawn chair, flopping on the floor like a flustered starfish. Though when your hands rub their way up from his chest to his shoulders, he's surprised he's even upright. Your hips sway to the melody, a warm smile melting away all his defenses; but when you guide his awkward hands to the dip in your hips, it’s game over. He stuffs his face into your neck, littering the sensitive skin with kisses, his brain screaming: distract the enemy!! distract the enemy!!
“Do you know how much I love you?” he mumbles with striking genuineness. Instead of answering his question, you simply twirl yourself around his finger, placing his hand to wrap around the small of your back. He dips you down right as the music swells. It was magical, really—the candlelight twinkling in your peripheral, spills of starlight dancing off the ocean's surface. It was all so perfect—that was until your shoe caught on one of the rose petals, the floor turning slick under your feet. You send yourself tumbling straight to the ground. Minho squeals, grasping at thin air, but then he too also slips, frantically shooting his wrists out so he doesn't crush you.
The music cuts through the deafening silence as petals weave their way into your hair. You roll your lips into your teeth, glancing over to an eerily still Minho, staring at the ceiling like a spooked tabby. As if he could feel your eyes, his gaze finds yours, and only then does he burst out into roaring laughter, which prompts you to also join the fun.
“Are you sure you're the main dancer?” you tease through breathy giggles. He gasps, smacking a dramatic hand over his chest.
“I’ll have you know you fell first.”
And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime
And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine
'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions
Wishing on everyone that you'd be mine, mine
In that moment, as the light hits you just right, he swears he finds the universe in your eyes. Your skin is showered in candlelight, head tilted back—joy flickers on your tongue as honey drips from your teeth. His heart pounds against his ribs, flowers sprouting in his lungs. To the world, he was an aloof grump with smooth moves and an impressive affinity for cats; but to you, with you, he was so much more.
Mid-snort, he captures your cheek, pressing his lips to yours. In a single gesture, he is pouring all the words he wished to say—
though to you, it tasted a little bit like—
If he had to blow a wish on every dandelion in the universe just to keep you, he would; and only through your lips would he find the power to keep breathing.
ᡣ𐭩 changbin + gushing about you while drunk
The balmy patio is sticky with soju-infused groans, most of the boys slumped in their respective seats, throwing back exasperated swigs of their drinks as they desperately try to drown out Changbin’s relentless rambles.
The two semicircle outdoor couches form a full circle around an unlit bonfire pit. On one of the couches sits a completely unfazed Felix, taking small sips of his soju between chuckles; an extremely annoyed Seungmin, glaring daggers at Changbin; and I.N, who doesn’t seem to be doing much of anything except, well, sleeping—body slumped against the armrest. Hyunjin is sandwiched between Chan and Changbin on the other couch: Chan, who wishes he never even brought up the idea to buy beer in the first place, and Changbin, who is currently slumped over a very irked Hyunjin’s lap. Han is somewhere in the house, probably giggling at his own swirling reflection.
Hyunjin digs his fingers into the roots of his locks, fighting every urge not to yank the tufts straight out.
“N-no, but Jinnie, you don’t u-understand—she’s so pretty,” Changbin slurs, stuffing his face into his friend’s hoodie, which makes Hyunjin frown and swat him away.
“That’s it! I’m calling Y/N!” Seungmin announces, jumping up from his seat. Chan grabs his sleeve, yanking him straight back down, much to Seungmin’s dismay. he sinks into the polyester in a puddle of disgruntled grumbles.
"Or we could record him," Minho calls out from the shadows of the back entryway, only ever appearing when he needed more beer or more entertainment. And right now, it was dinner and a show. Minho simply shrugs as if his evil plan wouldn’t ruin his best friend's bad-boy reputation. "Send it to Y/N later," he mumbles to himself, the devil tilting his cheek up. Nobody seems to hear him, so he slyly pulls his phone from his pocket and presses record.
"No, no, no! You can't call Y/N. She’ll know I love her!" Changbin gasps in horror, stumbling to grab the phantom phone that apparently appears on Hyunjin’s lap with the way he paws at his jeans. Hyunjin takes a nice, long swig of his soju.
"You know you and Y/N have been together for over four years, right?" Felix chuckles, finding the whole ordeal pure comedic relief.
"No, you don’t understand. She’ll know I love her... lover," Changbin’s words slur into an incoherent shake of his head. Minho's evil cackles float out from the concealment of the doorway, and Chan perks up.
"Minho, what are you doing?!" Minho slams his phone against his thigh. What the hell?? Does Chan have Spidey senses or something??
"Nothing!" he yelps, sounding super convincing. Chan narrows his eyes toward the darkness where Minho is supposedly lurking, sporting an eerily perfect rendition of a frustrated father. That is, until Changbin begins a very off-tune version of “The Itsy Bitsy Spider,” rolling over on Hyunjin’s lap to tap his fingers up his arm and eventually landing on Hyunjin’s nose with a giggle. When Hyunjin almost bites his finger off, Chan finally diverts his attention. Minho thanks God for the shadows—how else would he have gotten away with recording all of that?
“I’m about two seconds away from bringing you back to Y/N,” Hyunjin sighs, his lips pressed into a tight line as he glares at the man whose eyes just burst with light at the thought of seeing you. Chan smacks Hyunjin on the back sympathetically, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Why me, Lord? Why me?" Chan sings his woes under his breath but just loud enough for the camera to pick up—and for Minho to giggle.
"Y/N, I miss Y/N. Can I go home to Y/N, please?" Changbin hiccups, slumping his head onto Hyunjin’s shoulder. Hyunjin’s eye twitches. "I wanna tell the pretty girl I love her."
Felix emerges from his silence with a fit of laughter, nearly spilling his beer all over the floor. "Weren't you just saying you didn’t want to tell her you loved her?"
Changbin whips his gaze forward, his eyes hardening into a very foggy glare. "Well, now I want to tell the pretty girl I love her," he states matter-of-factly, his eyes fluttering a bit, betraying just how drunk he is.
Felix’s amusement is transparent as he raises his beer in Changbin’s direction. "Somebody needs to bring him to Y/N and let him re-confess his undying love for her."
Seungmin has never jumped up so fast in his life; he’s mid-volunteer when Chan grabs the cuff of his sleeve again and yanks him right back on his ass. Seungmin collapses onto the couch, ready to spit a disrespectful insult at his elder, but he folds like a lawn chair when Chan shoots him that look.
"Seungmin, you are far too drunk to take him home, while I," he looks to the sky with regret, "am very regretfully sober." Chan sounds like he’s going through the five stages of grief in one sentence.
"Okay, buddy, I’m taking you home," Chan grunts, clapping the drunken boy on the back. Changbin beams like he just heard there was a cure for cancer.
"Hell yeah!" He jumps up, only to stumble slightly, the patio swimming in his vision as he catches himself on Hyunjin’s forehead. When he finally, barely stabilizes himself, he throws his hands up. "See y’all bitches later! I—” he dramatically points to his chest in pride, “—am going to see my girl," he declares and marches straight out the door. Chan is mid-goodbye hug turned introspection with Felix, wondering what he’s doing with his life, when he hears a loud shatter in the hallway. Chan falls out of Felix’s arms immediately, his stride turned sprint.
"Son of a bitch, Changbin, that was my favorite vase!"
ᡣ𐭩
“Go ahead, tell the pretty girl how much you love her,” you tease, playfully mimicking kissy faces while simultaneously poking Changbin’s crumpled form, his boiling cheeks sandwiched between his knees.
Why did Minho have to send you that video? But most of all, why did he have to send it while Changbin was still hungover? All this humiliation can’t be good for his headache.
Changbin groans, falling back on the bed to pull a pillow over his scorching face. The fact that the whole mattress hasn’t burst into flames is truly beyond him. Giggles pour from your lips, even as they settle atop his stomach, leaving kisses all the way up his torso. You can hear his flustered pants from down here.
“Okay, that’s enough bullying for one day,” you say, straddling his waist to snake your arms around his waist, pressing your chests flush together. Your teeth graze his shoulder, softly biting the flesh. “Come on, baby, take the pillow off your face.” You press your smile against his shirt before resting your chin on his chest.
He peeks out from under the pillow, tugging it down just enough to reveal his eyes, still reluctant to fully reveal himself. You bat your lashes at him, pouting ever so slightly. He folds—like a damn lawn chair, at this point, he’s practically collapsing in on himself with how much he’s folded. His face melts into a grin as he finally pulls the pillow down.
He so regrets that.
Your face lights up with laughter as you take in his beet-red cheeks, your eyes disappearing into crinkled slits. “I’m sorry, I just... I just can’t,” you cackle, doubling over in heaves.
“I hate you,” Changbin shouts, flustered, smacking you square in the side of the head with the pillow. It does nothing to quell your amusement; in fact, it only makes it worse.
“That’s not what you said last night,” you snort, falling off him as you kick your feet against the sheets.
Despite his urge to tie a millstone around his ankle and jump off the face of the earth, he can’t help but smile, caught in an unusual state of awe. Your mouth is boxy, laughter filling the air like strands of warm honey.
“Apparently, you think about me a lot,” you snicker, still rolling around. his smile only spreads wider.
If only you knew how much he thought of you.
ᡣ𐭩 hyunjin + painting perfectly captured portraits of you
“Hold still for me, baby,” Hyunjin whispers, his voice low and intimate, as he lightly drags his brush down the length of your arm, adding the final touches to your portrait. His gaze traces your bare body, memorizing every inch until even the freckle on the upper left side of your waist is drawn onto the inside of his eyelids. The valley of your breasts trembles with each labored breath, your muscles tightening against the couch where you lay.
“I’m really trying, Jinnie, but it hurts,” you whine, fighting to keep your head steady. Your boyfriend lets out a breathy laugh, savoring one final glance at your naked form. With careful precision, he drags the sharpest part of his brush down your thigh, finishing the entire painting with his favorite peice of you.
“Done,” Hyunjin murmurs, settling back into his chair with a satisfied smile, admiring the art he’s just created. Usually when he painted, there was always something he hated about his work—whether it's the proportions or the colors were slightly out of harmony—it was never good enough. but when he paints you, there's never an issue; for he could capture you with children's finger paints, and you'd still find a way to look utterly breathtaking.
“Let me see,” you squeal, jumping up from the uncomfortable spot you’d claimed on his couch. A faint blush appears on his face as he turns the easel around, unraveling his heart before you. And oh, when he does—you collapse into his arms, all your strength diffused into a shuddering gasp. He had dipped his brush into your soul, and with every meticulous stroke, he gathered the very essence of your heart. It was almost unreal how perfect he made you appear to be—your moles speckled across your skin in gold, dusted like stars; your stretch marks adorned in silver, shining like slips of light.
How are you not sobbing right now??
“Is it okay?” he asks, bashfully wrapping his arms around your naked waist, completely unfazed by your current state of undress.
“Hyunjin, this is more than okay,” you sniffle, voice crackling with emotion. You turn to meet his gaze, only for his palms cradle your cheeks with a touch so tender, it's barely there. One second, you’re breathing; the next, you’re transcending, existing only between his lips.
By the time you come up for air, the world around you has changed. He’s on top of you now, his hands resting on either side of your head, thoughts long forgotten. He moves closer, allowing whisps of his hair to tickle the sensitive flesh of your neck; for his lips to settle upong the delicate curve of your collarbone. He doesn’t stop—he doesn’t stop until the sun kisses your skin, until the sky is filled with the very stars he painted upon your skin.
Only in love and art are you eternal and in hyunjin, with hyunjin, you are both.
ᡣ𐭩 han + hiding messages into every song he produces
"In every lifetime," a heartfelt promise whispered between shuttering breaths. Han's lips parted, your tongue savoring his astonished gasp. "What did you say?" quickly transformed into "Did you mean it?" when you had tenderly threaded your fingers into his hair, the pad of your thumb settling just under his jaw. Your needy hands had fogged his head, but he never forgot it.
"In every lifetime," you had uttered many moons later, nestled underneath the stretch of midnight sky. The universe had stilled, all of time and space screeching to a deafening halt. You unraveled the scrolls of his soul, and with the eternal vow of "I do," swore forever. So, he, for however long he may live, intends to hold you to that promise.
From: Hannie 🐿 Do not by any means play my new song!!!
From: Hannie 🐿 Im serious!!
From: Hannie 🐿 Promise me Y/N!!!
You giggle at his earnestness, clicking the notification to message him back.
From: My Wife ❤ I won't I promise!
From: My Wife ❤ Scouts honor 🫡
You admired Han's dedication to his craft, but what you admired most was his need to share every single part of it with you.
"You didn't listen to the song, did you?" Han calls out from the foyer, slamming the front door behind him. He urgently throws off his shoes, his heavy footsteps following him all the way up the stairs. Your mirth bubbles up behind a bitten grin, lip firmly tucked between your teeth.
"No!" you shout back, feigning indifference; though when he swings your bedroom door open, you’re overcome with breathy giggles—his hair is tossed around at all angles, puffed cheeks pink and gasping.
Now that was the man you fell in love with.
"Somebody's eager," you tease, chucking your phone somewhere on the bed. His eyes are oddly fearful when you lift yourself up from the comforter, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. His chest heaves, breath labored and shaky; flighty fingers find the knot of his tie, yanking it loose. You reel your head back. Since when does he wear a tie? You flick your gaze down his figure. Since when does he wear suits?? Your confusion only festers as he lets out an anxious chuckle, wringing his hands like wet rags.
"You have no idea." You didn’t know—didn’t know what he was about to risk. His heart was clay in your hands, and with the delicacy of a butterfly's wing, you pressed your fingerprints into his skin. For now, through touch alone, his soul will find you in every lifetime; but first, he must promise you himself in this one, and that appeared to be an impossible feat.
It's now or never, he tells himself.
So, with an arduous breath, he steadies his quivering hands just long enough to slip his phone out of his back pocket. Was it just him, or is it suddenly really hot in here? He swipes to YouTube. Why was it getting so hard to breathe?? He presses play. His heart somersaults its way down to his stomach when the opening melody echoes from the speakers. Your brows lift, lips pursing in your signature concentrated quirk. His mouth forms around a smile, breathing getting marginally easier, but that peace is short-lived as the chorus begins—only then does he feel the symptoms of real fear.
In every lifetime, his warm voice melts from the speaker.
A falling star just shot from space and hit you directly in the chest, rendering you utterly speechless; even as your gaze finds his glassy eyes, you just can’t believe it.
In every lifetime you swore.
It’s just too perfect.
So, for as long as I may live, I wanna be yours.
He’s just too perfect.
In every lifetime I'll dip my knee down.
There’s no way.
And yet he sinks to one knee, slipping a velvet box from the confines of his pocket. Your hands make purchase around your mouth, stifling a wet cry.
In every lifetime I'll ask to be yours.
"Y/N L/N, will you marry me?"
You drop to your knees, tears tracing cordate-shaped rivulets down your cheeks. "Yes, Han, I'll marry you! I'll marry you!"
Your lips swear forever as they land on his, and that promise echoes far into lifetime number twelve.
ᡣ𐭩 felix + giving you gum wrapper hearts
Lee Felix was stupid in love, heavy on the stupid, figuring he was about to start World War Three to get that gum wrapper out of Seungmin’s hand.
“Please,” Felix begs, drawing out the "e" in an obnoxious whine.
Felix has been professing his love for you through gum wrapper hearts for about as long as he’s been chewing gum, so he is going to be damned if he lets one gum wrapper gets away without meeting his fingers first. Seungmin’s eyes harden into an frustrated glare, about two seconds away from punching a pizza-sized hole in his best friend’s face.
“You know, the more that you beg me for this wrapper, the more I don’t want to give it to you,” he deadpans, voice flat with irritation. Felix throws his head back in an ear-splitting groan.
“Whyyy not??”
“Oh my gosh, Seungmin, just give him the damn wrapper,” Chan interjects, exasperated.
“Yeah, listen to Chan. Give Felix the wrapper,” Felix teases, laying his chin on his hand, fluttering his lashes with a shit-eating grin. Seungmin clenches his jaw, crumpling up the foil—much to poor Lixie’s dismay.
“Did you see that, Chan?! Seungmin crumpled my wrapper!” Seungmin squeezes it harder. “Look! Do you see that, Chan?! Seungmin is bullying me!” Chan sighs, digging a knuckle into his eye. He is about five seconds away from sticking both grown toddlers in time out.
“Seungmin, for the sake of my sanity, give Felix the damn gum wrapper.” The fact that he actually had to tell two full-fledged adults that was truly beyond him, yet here he was.
“It’s the principle of it, old man—” As soon as the words leave his lips, Seungmin wants to stuff them right back in. Chan grits his teeth, steam practically whistling from his ears.
Oh, crap.
“You little—” Chan dives for Seungmin, to which he squeals, ducking from his elder’s hand, gearing up to smack him square in the forehead. In the clamber of movements, he ends up dropping the beloved wrapper. Felix lets out a squeal of excitement, lunging for the foil. When the crumpled aluminum sits in his hands, he has never felt so rewarded in his entire life, smiling like he just won a million bucks.
Almost out of muscle memory, he begins smoothing it out, folding up all the right corners. He beams, stuffing the little token into his pocket, fingers itching to give it to you later.
“Thanks, Seungmin,” Felix smirks, taking a proud sip of his drink. Seungmin manages to stick his tongue out while trapped in a headlock.
“You suck,” he wheezes, throwing weak slaps onto Chan's bicep. Felix giggles, his phone buzzing against his jeans. Felix quite literally drops everything to pick it up, his heart singing the same song as your special ringtone.
From: My world 💙 Look, baby, isn’t it so beautiful? I took the pic while I was on my way to work. I actually swerved off the road to take the picture, haha. Just wanted to share it with you. Love you, baby!! [Image.png]
When he clicks the image, his phone is flooded with the most breathtaking view. The sky is stained like melting ice cream, cotton candy colors that burst around your hair, though that isn’t what Felix is looking at—he is looking at you. The moment he looks into your lopsided smile, Cupid shoots him all over again.
From: My star-light 🌟 Wow.
From: My star-light 🌟 No words.
From: My star-light 🌟 I didn’t know my girlfriend could look so stunning.
From: My star-light 🌟 Oh, wait, there was a sunset back there somewhere.
From: My star-light 🌟 Yeah, that was pretty too.
From: My star-light 🌟 Are we still on for tonight?? I miss youuu.
From: My world 💙 Oh my gosh, Lix, you’re making me blush, haha.
Seungmin chokes somewhere in the background. Felix doesn’t notice. Felix is submerged in the silky ocean of rose-colored love.
From: My world 💙 Of course we are!!
From: My world 💙 I miss you too, baby!!
From: My world 💙 Literally can’t wait to see you.
Felix is mid-text when his friends suddenly turn bright red, clambering to untangle themselves from the mess of limbs they got themselves stuck in. Felix doesn’t realize the reason Chan is suddenly fixing his hair or Seungmin is unruffling his shirt is because two of the most stunning women just walked past them. Felix was too focused on making time move faster.
ᡣ𐭩
Felix has never been to space, though he can accurately say that he has tasted the sky.
He sips the stars off your lips, every shared breath an inhale of the galaxy. Felix knows that somewhere, someplace time exists, but not here, not now, not with the blades of grass lacing through his hair; not when he’s pressing your chest flush against his, rolling around on the ground until the night sky is kissing the earth in his vision. Your laughs are buried in his neck when he gets too dizzy to continue, littering kisses on the sensitive flesh there. You pull away for only a moment, brushing a rogue strand of hair off his brow. You smile, dipping to press a soft peck to the tip of his nose.
The two of you had crept into this darkened backyard hours ago; you proposing a date under the stars only to share them between your lips instead. You have been locked in this position for lifetimes, and Felix has no plan to stop.
His palms lift to graze your cheeks before sealing your mouths together again. His soft laugh puffs against the seam of your lips, his smile curving against your own. “God, I am so in love with you.”
He was; he so, so, so was.
He was so in love with you, he had almost forgotten about his gift. Key word: almost.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he gasps, chasing your warmth when he pulls away, sitting up.
“What?” you playfully whine, biting back a grin, settling your hips against his thighs. He chuckles, poking a finger into his pocket, fishing out the gum wrapper heart.
“I know it’s not perfect,” he whispers, cupping something in his palm, “but I hope you still like it.” He rolls his fingers out bashfully, offering you the crinkled silver heart. He bites his lip, a faint blush falling over the apples of his cheeks. The little gift was by no means perfect; it was ripped, wrinkled, and just a little lopsided. Yet you can’t help the fondness that explodes in your chest. Still cradling the heart with care, you throw your arms around his neck, tackling him to the ground. Your chest flush against his, he grunts when you land upon the earth, smacking slobbery kisses all over his face. You don’t stop, not until he is flipping you over, now attacking you with equally wet kisses. Your giggles live in the balmy summer air.
To you, he was the sun; but to him, you were the universe
ᡣ𐭩 seungmin + buying you a bouquet every time the old ones wilt
October 11th, 2020.
That was the last time your apartment smelled like something other than florals. That was also the first time Seungmin had ever bought you flowers—a simple gift for your one-year anniversary that spiraled into a four-year tradition. You don’t ever talk about it, and he certainly denies it, when you thank him for how the wilting tulips magically evolved into beautiful daylilies. You find it endearing, the faint blush that falls over his cheeks when he tries to convince you that it wasn’t him.
Now that you think about it, your white roses did seem to have a little bit of brown on them yesterday.
Mid-wipe of the bathroom counter, you rush down the stairs, almost sliding into the kitchen in your socks. Without fail, there they were: bright red tulips, replacing the withering roses that had been in the vase earlier. A spreading grin pulls at your lips as you check the stove clock, quickly connecting the dots.
You had been cleaning the bathroom most of the evening, your earbuds blocking the world out. He had probably heard you humming from upstairs, choosing the perfect time to sneak in through the door. You squeal, sprinting up the stairs to throw open your bedroom door. You expect to find him lounging on the bed, but instead, you find him below it, cradling a square object in his hands. His head whips around, panic falling over his features. He slams the lid shut before fumbling to shove it right back under the bed, much to your dismay.
“Hey, what?” You yelp, diving for the box. Seungmin blocks you, accidentally knocking it out of his hands, unfurling its contents all over the floor.
It looks like a garden just threw up in your bedroom.
Hundreds, thousands of differently shaped petals are scattered on your floor, tufts of colorful memories spread out like a silky scroll. First, you freeze. Then, you gasp; your muscles thawing like a flower unfurling in the snow. It hits you slowly, blossoming in your chest and spilling from your eyes—Seungmin hasn’t been throwing away the flowers he bought you. He’s been collecting them.
You didn’t realize you were crying—not until you spoke—“Seungmin, what is this?”—then you heard it, your voice withering and wet. When you finally go to meet his gaze, he can’t seem to look at you, tilting his head down in shame.
“W-Well I-I’ve just…” he begins, trailing off with a rub of his burning neck. “Fuck, this is going to sound so stupid,” he flushes, staring down at the single yellow petal that fluttered onto his folded thighs. Suddenly, Seungmin feels your thumb brushing over his knuckles, and something shoots through his skin, something that straightens his spine and evens his breathing.
“I-I’ve um…” This was harder than he thought it would be. “Been collecting them for a while now, I wanted to keep them for when we get married. Wanted to scatter them down the aisle…”
His voice gets smaller with every word, sinking into himself as though that will make the gravity of the sentence less exposed, less raw. For a second, as silence stretches between you, Seungmin feels so stupid, embarrassment painting his cheeks red. You must think he’s such a fool, must think he’s crazy for ever believing he could marry you—his thoughts stop the moment your lips meet his, palms pressed firmly against his cheeks.
“I love you,” you whisper in between breaths, kissing him until it feels like you can’t kiss anymore; until he falls back upon the feathery bed made of magnolias and memories; until, with a star-lit sigh, he pulls away, untucking the red of a dried rose tangled above your brow. Even surrounded by God's most beautiful creations, he can’t bring his gaze to fall from yours, your eyes and all the mesmerizing sparkles they hold.
Seungmin couldn’t trace the exact moment he fell in love with you. Rather, it bloomed slowly over time, a feeling that took root; wrapping around the slabs of his ribs.
With you, he grew, and all of a sudden, with every breath he inhales, he finds you fluttering in his chest. At first, it terrified him. Though, now he knows—some gardens never die.
ᡣ𐭩 jeongin + stalking your goodreads profile to annotate your favorite books
“So, you’re a stalker, huh?” you muse, brushing your palm over Jeongin’s shoulder, which was clearly not a good idea, cause no sooner do you make contact is he jumping twenty feet out of his skin. You throw your hands up when he swivels around, ripping off his headphones like they were going to materialize into a baseball bat.
“Crap, y/n, you scared the hell out of me,” Jeongin pants, a relieved smile pulling on his cheeks; grateful that the intruder was indeed his girlfriend and not a 6-foot-tall man in a scream mask. For a second, he wonders if you’re possessed, a lopsided smirk playing on your lips while you tweak out, kind of laughing, kind of nodding, kind of looking like you need an exorcism. Then it hits him. Hits him like a 200-pound dump truck, rendering him breathless once more. He puts Flash to shame by how fast he slams his laptop shut, scrunching his face in cringe. The laugh you let out is devastating, a full-belly guffaw that makes you double over, stumbling straight into his arms.
For a second, when the lamplight hits you just right, Jeongin has to stop.
His breath catches in his throat, taking all of you in. There you were, with your hair falling in messy tangles, your eyelids slightly smudged in black, your smile boxy and sun-bright, you were perfect, and you were sitting on his lap. If you didn’t start talking, he would have stared at you for hours—probably would have started drooling as well.
“So, this is how you’ve known all my favorite books, huh?” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck. It takes him a hot second to gather himself, heart fluttering at the newfound proximity.
He stuffs his head into your neck, the heat of his cheeks burning into your skin. “Yeah…is that weird?”
“Is it weird?? Yang Jeongin, I’m pretty sure you just inadvertently proposed to me,” you reply, your tone light-hearted though you're dead serious.
“What?” He chuckles with a shy smile, leaning back.
“Yeah, I mean, you stalk your girlfriend’s Goodreads profile to read and annotate her TBR list. That is a proposal. I don’t make the rules.”
“Is that so?” he smirks, inching forward, your noses brushing together.
“Yeah,” you whisper, hot breath fanning across his lips, you lean in, finally sealing your mouths shut. Jeongin groans, your thumb swiping the nape of his neck. His heart pounds with a thousand different translations of 'I love you'.
“How many?”
He hums, slamming back down to earth, still a little bit dizzy.
“How many books have you bought?”
That sobers him up.
His eyes widen slightly before he bashfully chuckles, awkwardly scratching his ear. “Oh, uh…not that many.”
“Can I see them?” He’s two seconds from saying no, until you brush your lips against his cheeks, then his forehead, then the sides of his eyes, before, finally, he is tasting your grin instead, “Please?”
Well, how can he say no now?
He fiddles with the bottom of your shirt, biting his lip before sighing and pointing under his bed. “They’re all under there.”
You squeal, clambering off him to dive at the foot of his bed, sticking your hands into the dusty abyss below. It doesn’t take you but five seconds to find the box, though it takes you 5 minutes to actually pull the damn thing out, feeling more like a dead body than dead trees.
However, when you flip open the lid, the struggle is all worth it. Your jaw drops. Jeongin’s stomach flips upside down.
"Yang Jeongin, there’s no way..." You peer at him through dewy lashes, there had to be at least fifty books in this container. "You were planning on giving me all of these?"
"Well, yeah. Just...when I had enough time to annotate them."
"You've already given me like 10. How have you found enough time to read them?"
"I read them every night before I go to bed."
"And annotate them?"
He clears his throat, a faint blush falling over his cheeks like rose petals. "Yes."
"Where did you get the money for all this? These books have to have been like a thousand dollars."
"My check had just come in, and I knew how much you liked to read... I just wanted to do something nice for you. Why is this starting to feel kind of like an interrogation? Are you mad? Is this, like, really weird?" Jeongin can feel his eyes widen, anxiously shifting in place.
“One more question,” you step forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. He shutters when you make contact, gaze fluttering down. Jeongin expects you to laugh, maybe demand that he takes them back, or the worst of them all tell him he’s too obsessed. What he doesn’t expect you to do is drag him forward, and smash your lips together.
“How are you so perfect?” you exhale, puffing onto his lips like a breath of his own. He was going to show you how, he was going to show you how all night long.
ᡣ𐭩
If you thought he was perfect then you definitely think he is perfect now.
The sun slips through the curtains, dyeing your sweaty skin in gold; your mouth is nuzzled into his neck, lashes tickling his skin every time you shift. He draws phantom circles over your naked waist, savoring this moment, soaking your body in until he can remember the feel of your form through memory alone. You stir, feeling his heartbeat pick up.
It must have been a dream that urged you to say it, because somewhere, on the edge of sleep, you murmur, “What’s your favorite story?”
He didn’t have to think about the answer, not when he had thought about it a million times before. Without hesitation, Jeongin whispers, “Ours.”
(I rushed tf out of some of these I'm sorry)
#stray kids#skz#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#stray kids fanfic#skz fluff#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader
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reo brainrot is plaguing my mind so here's some short bf hcs !!!!!
note ; oh my god this was rotting in my drafts since NOVEMBER. finally got the energy to finish the last one my gosh..
bf reo mikage whose mood completely depends on yours !
his classmates find it silly how you could be sitting on your chair feeling down because of a low test score you got and reo would be there beside you, seemingly sad too, but because of what?? he got an A+ on the same test after all..? his family finds it relieving to see reo smiling beamingly whenever you're smiling, you wouldn't even be smiling directly at him yet he'd still look gleeful! his teammates find it weird how reo could be mad at them, yelling and yelling, shouting and shouting, reminding them to play properly and get their act together and then you come in unannounced with a box of cookies and that same smile reo adores, suddenly his eyes light up and he's squealing when you come closer to him as if he just didn't swear the living shit out of his teammates. if reo could do cartwheels and frontflips, he would've done those on the way to you because he is just so madly in love with youuuuu!!!!
bf reo mikage who absolutely loves hearing go on and on and on about your day !
he especially loves it more when you're spilling tea about people from your class. i mean yeah he knows it's bad but he can't help it? the way you're so focused on telling him an almost 3 minute gossip about this one girl in your history class is all he needs to just lay there on bed with you as he caresses your hair. those moments seldom happen, it usually has you having him lay on your chest while you talk about the funny incident at math class where your teacher forgot about the quiz that was supposed to be taken today and how you got 2 drinks from the vending machine instead of one because you had stumbled over air and hit the machine harshly which caused another drink to fall down. oh and he sees your eyes glimmer up and how you almost always run out of breath because you just have so much to tell him! even if he's always clinging to you either by interlocking arms or grabbing your waist, you'll always have some stories to ramble that even he doesn't know off!
bf reo mikage who impulsively buys anything he sees in stores that remind you of him !
it's a bad habit of his but is it really that bad when he gets to feel you embrace him when he shows you the new matching keychains he bought the two of you? though you tend to scold him for spoiling you rotten, nothing will ever stop him from buying you gifts and trinkets because that's his love language! passing by popmart and sees the mofusand hippers? automatically buys FIVE because he thought they looked like you whenever you were zoning out which is a telltale sign that you badly needed reo to give you a piggyback ride home, not that he minded it though. he's scrolling through facebook and an ad for a jacket pops up? he's already buying two versions, one for you and one for him so that you guys can match! reo def gets offended when you ask him how much they cost and that you'll pay him back because he is your BOYFRIENDDD, he will buy those gifts with NO intention of getting something back.
bf reo mikage who lets you do all sorts of hairstyles on him !
he will also proudly show it off when you guys are at school too, he could care less about what other people think because why would he? his s/o did that hairstyle for him so why should he be ashamed? you would see a cute hairstyle post whilst scrolling through Tiktok and wanted to try it out, but before doing it on you, what better way to see if it was cute by trying it out on your boyfriend? reo wouldn't even try to say no because he wouldn't mind it at all, plus it was a good way to spend time with you. you would let him hold your phone as you try to follow the steps in the video as quickly yet properly as you can. after a few mistakes and redos, you had finished the look and dare you say, it may fit him better than you.. reo looked really good even though the hairstyle was a bit on the feminine side. he'd keep it on for the entire day, not caring or doing anything when the teachers tell him to take it off (rich boy privileges LMAO) oh and later on, you'd also put pins and hairclips on him too! the ones that matched his hair and eyes! this would also be a frequent sleepover activity the two of you do, reo would set up a space in his room dedicated to THIS specific thing!!!
©🇯🇮🇫🇱🇴🇺🇱🇪🇹🇹🇪, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else. ౨ৎ
#see you guys when my writers block is gone again#which may be next month LMAO#i love reo bye#reo#reo mikage#reo x reader#blue lock#bllk#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#jinxed it up ! 𓆩♡𓆪#blue lock x male reader#bllk x male reader#bllk fluff
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❀·°∗✧🌸✧∗°·❀

Tease
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an: i think this might have been a bit rushed, it was incomplete in my drafts and I just decided to finish it for ya ;) i feel like the pics don’t match the aesthetic of this but it’s wtv. MEN AND MINORS DNI
content: Vi has a penis (wanted to try smth different), phone sex, dom!vi, mean!vi, name calling, nudes, breeding, cursing. lmk if i missed anything!
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You weren’t usually a tease. Sure, Vi always teased you, but this time, you wanted to turn the tables. Your friends were always talking about the stuff they’d send their husbands at work, risqué pictures, flirty texts, whatever it took to leave them a mess. And, of course, you wanted to see that side of Vi. You wanted to know what she’d be like if you pushed her just a little too far.
You knew she had a big meeting today. She’d told you this morning, her tone calm but firm as she kissed your forehead before leaving. “Don’t distract me today, baby,” she’d said with a small smile. “I really need to focus.” Not mean, not harsh, just focused. And yet, that only made it more tempting.
You slipped into your white lingerie, the one she loved. It was delicate, soft against your skin, hugging your body just right. You stood in front of the mirror, hesitating for only a moment before snapping a few pictures, angling yourself to show just enough to drive her crazy.
Your heart pounded as you hit send. And then… you waited.
Minutes turned into hours. You changed back into your normal clothes, went out for errands, tried to distract yourself, but the anticipation gnawed at you. Maybe she was too busy. Maybe she wasn’t going to say anything at all. You started to feel a little embarrassed. But then your phone rang.
It was her.
You answered immediately, trying to hide the nervous flutter in your chest. “Hi, baby!” you said, your voice light and cheerful.
There was silence on the other end for a moment. Then you heard it, a soft, wet squelching noise. Your heart skipped a beat as the familiar sound registered in your head.
“Baby,” Vi’s voice came through, breathy and ragged. “Fuck, those pictures. They were amazing. Got my cock so swollen for you, mama.”
Your cheeks burned, heat spreading through your body as you heard her, really heard her. Her voice was shaky, desperate, like she was barely holding herself together. And the sounds… the wet, rhythmic strokes of her hand working her cock filled the line, obscene and raw.
“Th-thank you,” you stammered, your voice catching in your throat. You didn’t expect her to sound like this, so needy and wrecked. She wasn’t teasing you or playing it cool. She was falling apart, and you could hear it in every whimper, every sharp hitch of her breath.
“Fuck,” she groaned, her voice breaking. “Put me in such a tough spot, baby. Sitting through that meeting with my cock this hard, trying not to think about you. About how you’d look bent over my desk, wearing that fucking lingerie.” She let out a low, desperate whine that sent a shiver down your spine. “God, I can’t stop thinking about you. You’ve got me so fucked up.”
You didn’t say anything, your lips parted as you listened to her unravel. You’d never heard her like this, so shameless, so absolutely desperate for relief. “Wanna stuff up that slutty pussy so good,” She groans. Every wet stroke of her hand was loud in your ear, her breath coming faster and faster as she chased her release.
“Baby,” she whimpered, her voice cracking. “I wish I was there. Wish I could bury my cock in you, feel you squeezing me so fucking tight. I’d let you ride me—fuck, I’d let you do anything you wanted to me. Just want to feel you, mama. Need you so bad.”
Your thighs clenched instinctively, but you didn’t dare move. You listened intently, your heart pounding as she whimpered your name, her voice trembling with need.
“I’m close,” she panted, her strokes getting faster. You could hear how messy it was, the slick, obscene sounds of her cock leaking as she fucked into her hand like a man possessed. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Baby, I—fuck, I can’t—”
She let out a choked groan, the sound raw and guttural as she came. You could hear everything, the way her strokes slowed, the wet noises of her cock spilling over her hand, her breathing uneven and shaky as she came down.
For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of her catching her breath. Then she let out a soft laugh, her voice still hoarse. “Goddamn, baby,” she murmured, her tone warm and affectionate now. “You’re gonna kill me one day, you know that?”
You smiled to yourself, your heart still racing. “I didn’t mean to distract you that much,” you teased, even though you absolutely did.
Vi chuckled, the sound soft and low. “You’re lucky I love you,” she said, her voice still tinged with exhaustion. “But don’t touch yourself, okay? I want you to wait for me. Gonna take care of you properly when I get home.”
“Okay,” you said sweetly, even though you already knew you weren’t going to listen.
After you hung up, the silence in the room felt deafening. Your body was buzzing, your skin hot, your panties soaked from just listening to her. You bit your lip, glancing at the clock. She wouldn’t be home for hours.
You sat back on the couch, your hand already sliding down between your legs. “Sorry, Vi,” you whispered to yourself, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. “I can’t wait.”
You closed your eyes, her voice still fresh in your mind, the way she whimpered, the wet sound of her stroking herself, the way she’d called your name like it was the only thing keeping her sane. It didn’t take long before you were trembling, your fingers working you over as you replayed the call in your head.
When you came, it was with her name on your lips, your body arching as the pleasure crashed over you. You lay there for a moment afterward, your chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. Guilt prickled at the edges of your mind, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
She didn’t have to know.
The key turning in the lock announced Vi’s arrival, earlier than anticipated. A wave of panic mixed with lingering arousal washed over you. You smoothed your clothes, attempting a casual facade, but Vi’s knowing gaze saw through the charade. A predatory smile curved her lips.
“Hey, baby,” she purred, her voice thick with unspoken promises. The closing door clicked shut, amplifying the sudden silence. The air thrummed with a thick tension.
“Hi,” you managed, your voice betraying a nervous tremor. Your heart hammered against your ribs.
Vi advanced, her movements deliberate and predatory. Her fingers traced your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. “Did you miss me?” she whispered, her thumb brushing your lower lip.
You nodded, the lie catching in your throat. “Of course.”
“Good,” she breathed, her eyes darkening. “Because I missed you too.” Her hand tightened possessively on your thigh. “Did you touch yourself while I was gone?”
Your hesitation, the averted gaze, was all the confirmation she needed. Vi’s grip intensified, her fingers digging into your flesh. “Don’t lie to me,” she growled, her voice low and menacing. “I can smell it on you. Hear it in your voice. Feel the dampness already clinging to my fingers.”
Your breath hitched, your body betraying your deceit. Vi’s eyes gleamed with a predatory triumph. “You’re so wet for me,” she murmured, her hand sliding higher, pushing your skirt up with impatient fingers. “You were thinking about me, weren’t you? Imagining what I’d do to you when I got home.”
You nodded softly. “You couldn’t wait for me to stuff you up real good,”
Before you could respond, she shoved you back against the couch, her body a heavy weight pinning you down. “Gonna give this little cunt what she wants.” she growled, her teeth nipping at your neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses down to your collarbone.
Her hand delved between your legs, her fingers finding your slick folds. You gasped, arching into her touch despite the fear coiling in your stomach. “Vi,” you whimpered, a plea lost in the rising tide of sensation.
“Quiet,” she commanded, her long fingers pumping into you, curling so nicely in your sopping hole. “You don’t get to talk now. You just get to feel.”
Her fingers plunged deep, exploring your wet heat. “Soaked,” she murmured against your ear, her breath hot and ragged. “Just for me.” You cried out, your body bucking beneath her.
She leaned back, her eyes burning into yours. “You like that, don’t you?” she whispered, a cruel smile twisting her lips. “You like being used.”
Tears pricked your eyes, but the undeniable thrill spiraling through you couldn’t be ignored. Vi saw it, the flicker of desire in your gaze, and her smile widened.
She withdrew her fingers with a slick, obscene pop. You whimpered at the loss, your body thrumming with a desperate need. Vi reached down, unbuckling her belt with a sharp, metallic click. Her cock sprung out, tip angry and leaking precum. “Gonna nut in this cunt.” she growled, her voice thick with possessiveness.
She yanked your legs apart, roughly aligning herself with your entrance. You braced yourself, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. Then, with a brutal thrust, she buried herself deep inside you.
You cried out, the feeling of her filling you, stretching you, overwhelming your senses. She lets out a loud groan, “God I love this pussy, so fucking creamy,” She began to move, her thrusts hard and fast, each one a punishing blow. The couch creaked beneath the frantic rhythm of their bodies. “You’re so tight,” she groaned, her voice strained with pleasure. “So fucking perfect.”
Her thick cock kissing your cervix so good you swore you saw stars, your cunt squelching, basically talking to Vi. Clit swollen, glistening with your juices.
She slammed into you again and again, her hips a blur of motion. The room spun around you, a dizzying vortex of sensation. You could feel her building, the tension coiling tight in her core.
Vi begins to whine, you clench harshly around her, “fuckkkkk yes princess just like that.” Her eyes roll back. “I’m gonna cum,” she growled. “I’m gonna cum inside this pretty fucking pussy.”
And with one final, savage thrust, she did. You felt her release flood you, hot and thick, pulsing deep within you. She collapsed on top of you, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her weight a welcome pressure.
You lay there, entangled, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks of her possession.
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this is my original post, please don’t repost, translate, or plagiarize my work ;)
©️avonnimimi 2024
#lesbian#wlw blog#wlw mood#wlw post#18+ mdni#gxg#wlw#violet arcane#vi arcane smut#vi x you#vi x reader#vi arcane#arcane imagine#arcane#arcane smut
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The ‘bad’ kind of desire



pairing: soobin x reader
synopsis: you can't touch him, because he's too innocent, too sweet. but god you wish you could.
warnings: implied fem reader (can't remember if it's outright said), dom reader, sub soobin, masturbation, fingering, lowkey corruption kink, mentioned mommy kink, think that's really it
a/n: the first portion of this fic has been in my drafts since roughly july last year and was in my notes app for a few months - at least - longer than that so don't even ask me how old this really is, but at least it's out!!😭
“Am I bad person?”
Beomgyu scoffs, looking at you with eyebrows raised. He nearly laughs at the ridiculous statement coming from your mouth.
"What?"
And that makes him lose it, unable to even hold it back as he barks out a laugh, looking at you as if you've grown a second head.
It’s a hard thing to fathom coming from you given that you’ve definitely never had any qualms about your morality when it comes to this kind of stuff. “Really? You’re asking me that?”
His best friend sits across the room, oblivious to the conversation, his headphones pulled over his ears, the game he’s playing flashing on the computer screen in front of him.
Soobin.
Sweet sweet Soobin, messy blonde hair left unbrushed, pajamas still on, not bothering to change as this was all he was planning to do all day.
Sweet Soobin who you can’t help but want to play with.
Who you can’t help but imagine how pretty he’d look with tears in his eyes.
"I'm not fucking around Gyu-am I a bad person?"
You groan and flop over on the couch, rolling over to rest your head in Beomgyu’s lap, looking up at him with a comically-in his opinion-concerned expression.
He gives you nothing but an exaggerated eye-roll. "Don't even start."
“But aren’t I?” You look again at the boy across the room, wondering why, why he had to be so stupidly adorable. His lips were twisted into a small pout and why it was so fucking cute.
Why? You wondered, feeling like this was all you were doing nowadays.
Beomgyu resists the urge to roll his eyes at you for the second time in a row, now at the way that you look at his best friend like some kind of lovesick fool, especially considering that all you really wanted was get into his pants. It didn’t really make sense, but hey, who was he to judge?
“Why? Just because you want to rock his shit? Step on him and make him cry? That makes you question your morality? Out of everything that you've done?”
You gasp, slapping his chest. “He’s right there.” You hiss, not exactly denying the words.
He ignores that, shoving you off of him. He knows as well as you do that those headphones are the expensive noise cancelling ones that he'd gotten from you last Christmas. He barely hear himself yelling at his online teammates much less your hushed conversation.
You look at him as if you want to take him out on a nice picnic date and let him lay his head in your lap while playing with his hair pointing at clouds. Which Beomgyu couldn’t really see in any world, you were never really the type.
But who knows? Maybe you were really just that eager for his dick at this point-or the more probable scenario-have him on your dick, that it broke something inside you.
“Why’re you so concerned now? Not like you had any issues with Yeonjun or Taehyun. Hell, you kept up everyone else in the dorms,” His voice goes higher as he attempts to poorly mock his roommates. “‘Y/N, more~’ ‘please, I need it-need y-‘“
“Shut the hell up.” You spit, quickly covering his mouth with your hand while your eyes flicker once more to him, still staring intently at his game.
Really, why were you so concerned now?
Beomgyu was right. You’d had no problem doing the same to them, to Tae and Yeonjun, but they were different-he was different.
Soobin was different than any of them. They were the product of having fun with someone you knew like the back of your hand and vice versa. Simply satisfying-albeit unimportant-a matter of getting your rocks off with people you knew could find your clit and would let you hit it from the back.
Soobin was Soobin though. The sweet boy who looked at you with the most innocent smile.
Who got all blushy and embarrassed when you so much as lightly and non-vulgarly flirted with him.
He’d squeak and duck his head away when you called him bunny - again, non-vulgarly, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing and it turned him on-just a little bit.
In other words, painfully obviously, it was clear.
“He’s a virgin!” You hiss, hand still clamped over his mouth despite his garbled reply. You know just as well as Beomgyu knows how bitchless his friend is. Despite the fact that offers for him were nearly endless he was too shy, too awkward to accept said advances. “-I can’t take that away from him, it needs to be special, it needs-“
Your hand, still over his mouth is touched by something warm and wet and you shriek, pulling away quickly with a look of disgusted horror. “Are you serious right now?”
“Fight me bitch, I will not hesitate.” He growls, looking triumphant with the fact that you’ve now backed up to the edge of the couch.
You roll your eyes at him, looking once again at Soobin.
Fuck, why does he have to be so adorably innocent?
Beomgyu rolls his eyes, wiping at his mouth. "Just trust me, he'd be happy to be used by you. He might be a virgin, but he's nowhere near innocent."
"And what do you mean by that?" You sit against the arm of the couch, wiping Beomgyu's saliva onto the cushions.
He lets out a dry laugh, glancing back at Soobin before reaching for the previously forgotten remote control. "It means he wouldn't be as freaked as you think he would be if he found your sex toy collection."
—-
You suppose Soobin had always been special in some sort of way.
Always there over the span of time that you'd known all of them. Sitting off to the side while you hung out with the others. In his own room while you were fucking around with his other roommates. Playing his game while you were hanging out with Gyu.
He'd caught your eye more than once or twice, or three times over the years.
He was hot. You'd never discount that. Hot in the loser-y, adorable, cute, corruptible kind of way.
But then again, that kind of was your type if you thought about it.
You'd never been particularly close with him like you'd been with the others. He'd never made much effort to hang out with you but he was there when all the others were, if not one-on-one.
And he got really, really embarrassed when you tried to flirt with him like you did the others.
You didn't mind much, you'd just come under the impression that he was kind of scared of women. Which was also kind of cute.
But Beomgyu was right when he'd said that you'd never cared much about morals in the first place.
It didn't matter how close of friends or if they were a virgin or whatever other silly things that made things like that 'trivial'.
Life was too short to pretend you didn't feel things and besides. Sometimes, you really, just...didn't care.
And it wasn't personal, when you wanted someone, you would pursue it and if there was now friend groups you'd single handedly broken up, well they'd clearly made it personal themselves because you always made it very clear that there was no feelings involved.
Besides the raw, hot tension that made your skin tingle like your nerves were livewire.
Soobin was different though, special.
You felt bad for wanting him. For wanting to dirty him up.
He was something pure, something beyond and above you, perhaps and that was something you weren't willing to ruin, no matter what Beomgyu told you.
—-
"Fuck," he panted, "please,"
The room was dark, the light of his laptop being the only thing illuminating his face.
"Please,"
Sounds filled his ears through the crappy pair he'd owned for years, refusing to get wireless ones.
"Please."
"Bet you fucking like that, don't you?" The voice, only a few octaves higher than your own, still sent shivers down his spine.
Close enough.
"You're a such a dirty slut, you know?"
He whined into his sleeve, a sweater paw pressed over his mouth to keep the moans at bay. "I'm sorry, no, no please I'm sorry~" It wasn't doing a very good job muffling his voice though.
"I need it~"
The video seemed to respond to his desperate pleas. "If you need it so fucking bad then you'll be a good boy and wait for mommy's permission. You hear me?"
Or maybe he'd just watched this video so many times he'd memorized all of the male counterpart's lines. "Yes mommy," he panted, "I'll be good, I-I'll wait for your permission!"
He wouldn't. He knew he wouldn't.
He couldn't, as much as he prided himself on being a good boy. This time he knew he wouldn't even make it through the seven minute and thirty-two second video.
Not with you in the next room.
He couldn't tell if you were with Yeonjun or Taehyun. It didn't really matter either way.
Because he would only focus on you.
You weren't loud, having endured enough of Beomgyu's teasing and gripes about your sexual habits. He decided he hated Beomgyu for that.
But he could hear your pants through the paper-thin walls, heavy and followed by your quiet praises. "Sweet boy," you cooed, just as the porn on his laptop continued, "Naughty boy, such a messy little-" He ripped the earbuds out mid-sentence.
He wanted to hear you.
Not some substitute for the real thing.
He could imagine if you walked it on him right now.
Laying spread out on his bed, pants not even all the way off-just messily pulled below his hips, just enough for his dick to breathe properly and for his hand to easily slide up and down with the amount of pre-cum leaking from the tip.
"Fucking please." He moaned, quiet and needy.
You'd see him a mess, his soaked through sleeves catching the drool from his lips, teeth biting into the soft fabric to keep from crying out too loud.
You'd see him shamelessly fucking up into his fist, calling out pleas with no one there to hear him.
"C'mon baby, you can take it, take it all for me." Your voice was accompanied by the wet sounds of what, Soobin wasn't completely sure but his mind quickly conjured a few different theories. "That's it, a little more~"
Fuck him, he wished you were speaking to him.
Cockwarming him, your pussy wrapped around his dick, warm and wet and squeezing around him so good. Fluttering kisses over his face and throat as you teased along the length of him, slowly lifting up just to agonizingly sink back down onto him, clenching tight while he moaned into a kiss.
Or stroking him to another orgasm, making him cum again and again until his body was shaking and tears streaming down his cheeks. Telling him he could take more, do it one more time, for you. Because whatever pain you'd inflict would be worth it, after all it was your hands doing the damage.
"Fuck you look so pretty like this, just makes me wanna fucking wreck you. Turn you into a mindless whore on my dick."
Fuck, so that was what it was.
His mind managed to come up with one more picture through the haze.
You'd have his wrists pinned over his head with one hand, over him, keeping him down with a surprising amount of strength.
God, he could imagine the way you'd look at him. Maybe you'd be kind and gentle, sweet words and a sweet hand, fulfilling every one of his fantasies while calling him your sweet little bunny.
Like you were with whoever you were with on the other side of that wall.
But he doubted it. Or, he hoped not at least.
In his head you'd be meaner, crueler. Look at him with dark, hungry eyes and watch in a sadistic sort of glee when he cried, when he whined, when he begged and pleaded for more.
You'd thrust into him, hard and punishing, slowing down just to make sure that he wasn't crying from serious pain before you'd slam your hips against his, driving the tip of the toy dead into his prostate.
He'd beg you, plead you to slow down, to be nicer to him.
You'd tell him no. Tell him to be a good boy, voice patronizing and low, tell him only good boys get rewards.
God, that’s what he needed right now.
Needed you.
Your words, your touch, your scent, your presence even. You eyes on him, watching as he fell apart.
Not you fucking someone else in a different room.
Liquid heat flowed through his body, scorching and consuming every coherent thought.
"More."
He imagined it was you. Your hands all over him, pressing up against his throat, fondling his balls, purposely, maliciously ignoring where he needed to be touched most while you drove into him over and over and over until he was screaming in ecstasy.
It wasn’t enough, not nearly
"You just love my cock, don't you angel? Love being fucked by me into a mindless whore?"
He silently cracked the lube open, lathering his fingers in it before letting them drift lower.
He'd done this before, but it had been awhile and the stretch was beyond overwhelming with your words ringing through the wall.
“You’re just a little angel, aren’t you, bunny?” And he pressed a finger inside, thrusting shallowly, breath picking up as you got louder.
"No, you're not an angel. You're a fucking whore, taking it like you were made for it, huh?" A second finger, following the first, scissoring himself open with a quiet gasp.
"Yeah? Fuck, is that it?" You laugh and he swears it's right in his ear, ringing through his head. "'m gonna make you scream for me baby,"
He whines in frustration, his fingers not deep enough - you not deep enough inside of him. No, he needs it deeper, harder.
More.
"Get on top of me baby, ride me," you mutter, so far but so close.
He can imagine, as he settles on his knees, that the pillow he straddles is you. That his legs are around your hips. That his fingers, positioning on the bed under him is your dick and your hands are pressing against his hips, holding him in place.
"You're mine, you hear that? Mine. My perfect little slut, taking my cock like a pretty little slut." His body trembles, eyes rolling back as he slowly sinks down onto three fingers.
"Your's." He moans in reply.
And finally, finally, he reaches his prostate, hitting it head on with his fingers.
Stars burst behind his eyelids as they slip shut, back arching into the intrusion. He could cry, he thinks distantly that he maybe is.
But it doesn't matter.
Because your hands are on his hips, controlling his movements, leading him the way you want him to ride your cock.
Up,
"Slut." You whisper.
and down,
"Whore." You lean up, teeth nipping at his neck but not hard enough to leave marks.
over,
"Baby," Breathing over the shell of his ear.
and over,
"Good boy~" Teasingly biting at his earlobe.
harder,
"Bunny," Kissing along his jaw.
faster,
"Mine." Across his cheek.
deeper.
Just barely there, ghosting across his lips-
"-Cum for me baby,"
And he does. With his mouth hung open, drool covered sleeve long forgotten over. With his eyebrows furrowed and body curled into itself, fingers pressed against his prostate.
Ropes of cum covering his chest, and his face. Some reaching his lips and his chin, staining his skin and landing in his open mouth.
"Fuck,"
And on the other side of the wall, "Good boy,"
a/n: i was thinking about making a part two but honestly if it took me a year to find the inspiration to finish this one, i'm not sure a second one will ever come out😭
#soobin x reader#soobin smut#sub txt#txt x reader#txt smut#sub!txt#sub kpop#sub idol#sub!soobin#sub soobin#afab reader#dom reader#dom!reader
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Hi!! I’m a little lurker who only did one request once and I forgot what happened to that one so I have a different request!!
can you…uhm…write a little thing about priest!fyodor who believes reader to be a god but reader just a normal human?
And like human is a virgin and…you know where I’m going with this.
A worshiper Fyodor taking his beloved God’s virginity by riding reader until he passes out from how many times Fyodor bounced on his cock.
idk I just can’t stop thinking about it but I don’t think I worded it pretty well and you have pretty words soooo…
I’m sorry for bothering you with this imma just
go back to lurking once more…
but if I could bother you again? Can I be 🕶️ anon please?

This is similar to something I have started long ago! On my old blog! But it got deleted along with my drafts :’)
Dom!reader x sub!priest!fyodor - reader is gender neutral
Warning: pegging (I use dick), use of condom (wow scary), no prep, cum play (licking), hierophilia, corruption, taking virginity, worshipping, fucking in a church, dacryphilia, handjob, cumming untouched, mind break, sub space, bruises, god - worshipper relationship

It happened the moment he laid his eyes on you. When you walked in, pass the grand wooden door and slandered through the small halls. That miraculous day was Sunday, morning to be precise, and you came in late for the morning chant. Everyone who sat on the benches turned their head to look at you, some with scorn, some with a mocking grin. You looked unfazed and went straight to the first row, keeping eye contact with one single person, the priest in charge.
That cold attitude despite the loud voices, the way your every move was as smooth and elegant as clear water. Your expression after sitting down, lips shut while keeping your arrogant eyes on him, as if to judge him, to attest to something. All that appeared divine in his eyes, superior even, it caused a shudder to run down his spine. He had never felt such a pressing sensation before, it was the first time.
You were staring at him so much, though he couldn’t read your intentions. Nothing, only emptiness. A gentle breeze, that brought forth comfort, turning into an icy storm capable of destruction. These words would be perfect to describe you, or how his view of you, because everyone else seems to think otherwise. Most of them scoffed about you coming in late, those little complains soon changed into more vicious words. Like a devils curse, causing the once friendly guests to sin.
“Dear father, may we continue with the morning prayers?” Among the low whispers of the devil, a voice akin to an angels emerged. “Excuse me..?” Fyodor murmured, eyes subconsciously darting to the direction of the sound. Once again, it was you who called out to him. A blush crept onto his cheeks when he noticed your piercing gaze, it was a little embarrassing that he dazed out there. “Yes, of course, pardon my inattentiveness.” The priest said, glancing at you a last time before focusing on his duties. Or at least he tried, because he couldn’t concentrate. The entire time he found himself stealing glances at you, watching you. This wasn’t like him, he couldn’t even recognise himself.
From then onwards, he found himself searching for your eyes or attention. It began with him asking around about you, then it gradually turned into him actively seeking you out. Your meetings became more frequent, and more private as well. One day, he found you kneeling in the confession box, boringly staring through the bars. He quickly positioned himself, then asked, “what brings you to me, my child?”
Seeing you up close was a new experience, he felt the tingly sensation crawling around his body again. “Father, I’m here because I believe you have something to confess.” You said with a voice coated in sweet honey. “Me, confess?” The priest mumbled, obviously baffled by your words no matter how he adored your voice. “That’s right, I can see. If you have something to say, do it now.” After hearing you out, he swallowed the lump in his throat, before smiling at you meekly and admitting, “I fear I’m not loyal to my god anymore.”
It took a lot out of him, a servant of god, to utter these words. Of course it wasn’t without reason. Simply being in your presence made him feel special and watched, as if those nonchalant eyes of yours were the watching gaze of god. He couldn’t explain it, it was a chilly feeling, but at the same time it burned him from the inside. “Speak, father.” You spoke, then he suddenly slammed his hands against the wall separating the two of you. “My lord, you don’t have to speak politely with me. I, Fyodor, this lowly subject of yours, am ready to serve you with all my heart.” The male announced, smiling at you in delight, cheeks rosy as he declared you as his new god.
Anyone who heard this would have thought he was out of his mind, staring at him with a face that screams the word disbelief. But not you, contrary to what one would expect, your expression stayed neutral. “My subject? Lord?” You questioned his choice of vocabularies, tilting your head to the side. “Yes, oh lord, please let þis servant worship you.” Then, to your surprise, the father you were supposed to confess to kneeled down and clasped his hands together, praying to you with a sickening obsession.
That shivering, oppressive feeling didn’t leave him alone, it gnawed at him and told him this was the right thing to do. He couldn’t care less what he was supposed to do or not, all that wasn’t important anymore. Since his deity has come down and granted him an audience, he only has to follow their- your orders from now on.
Whatever got him acting this way was all in his head, you were nowhere near of being a god. Quite the opposite, you were just a human like him, and you found his actions irritating. But you weren’t any better, you didn’t correct him, rather, you liked that desperate look on his face. You wanted to test his limits, to see how far he’d go for you. In truth you enjoyed playing god for him, depending on who you are asking this might be even more twisted than what fyodor was pulling off.
It started with you getting him to do bothersome stuff for you, sometimes it also became materialistic. Other times you would just converse with him and enjoy his company. He’d ask tausend questions about you, some trivial, some existential ones. Most of the time you’d put up with his antics, acting like a benevolent and nice deity. That’s when one day, one of his curiosities caught you off guard. It was when he asked you:
“my lord, do.. you want me to comfort you?” You stared at him with furrowed brows and scoffed “comfort? Where did you get that idea?” “You look stressed my lord, I wish I could do something for you.” Fyodor said, he was on his knees in front of you, who was sitting on a bench in a huge room. The room where each Sunday a crowd of people would come in for morning prayers.
He looked up at you with foggy eyes, hands itching to worship your body. How could someone be this divine and perfect? Obviously he was the chosen one, he was born to meet you. “That… I’ve never done anything like that before. Speaking of which, have you, as a priest?” You questioned, a tiny bit interested. “No, I kept my chastity for you, my god.” Fyodor answered shamelessly, then thought about what you told him.
If what you said was right, then he awfully wanted to give his first to you, and to be your first as well. To take the virginity of his most beloved god and to give, there was nothing more he could ask of. “Is that so?” Your warm voice broke off the momentary silence, then you continued with, “come here.” You tapped your thighs, wondering if he would do it. Did he believe in you enough to commit something that has always been taboo for him? A part of you doubted it, but you wished he’d obey you yet again.
The boy stared at your moving hands for a while, then did as you instructed, climbing onto your lap with reddened cheeks. “…like this?” He raised his arms, about to wrap them around your neck but decided against that. Then he bawled them into fists and kept them behind his back, before grinding against your crotch with his own bulge. “Nghh... fo-forgive me, hah I-lord, can I please continue?" Fyodor mumbled with squinted eyes, biting his bottom lip while he let his desires take over. You grabbed his waist, wrinkling his black robe and stopping him, whispering, "D-don't move, not in the church." Your conscious forbid you from carrying out such acts in a holy place. Sure, you provoked him first, though you didn’t expect it to escalate this soon.
He begged you with glistening, teary eyes, hoping you'd let him go further than that. It felt so good he couldn't stop, he has never even touched himself before so that simple gesture was enough to make him drool. "P-please." Fyodor groaned into your ear, his voice has never been this needy or lewd, it surprised both of you. Instead of stopping when you told him to, he continued to grind against you and whimper, "use me however you see fit, my lord, please let me he-help you." You clenched your teeth, use is a strong word. It’d be a lie to say you weren't aroused, so you sighed and complied with his request, "dammit, fine. Go and get my bag."
This was how you were going to have your first? Giving it to a crazy priest who believes you were a being above humanity? Who would have guessed…
You watched him get off with shaky legs, the spot between his legs was all wet and sticky already. Was it normal to be this sensitive? It's probably because he's a virgin, just look at him eagerly bringing your stuff to you. Once he came back, you fumbled around in your bag, luckily you always brought your stuff with you in case of a spontaneous one-night-stand. It never happened before, yet you knew you would need it one day. After you were done with the preparations, you opened a pack of condom, about to pull it over your length when he clasped his hand over yours. "L-let me do it." He proposed, hands shaking with embarrassment as he took slowly pulled it down to the shaft. You almost laughed because he was making such a big deal out of it, sweating furiously with an ashamed gaze.
"Do you find it dirty to touch it?" You chuckled after watching him for a bit, finding his reactions pretty amusing. "No-no.!! No.. that, I-I'm.." His face heat up again as he tried to find the right words. In the end he decided to just speed up the entire thing, and grabbed the bottle of lube that was in your other hand. Then he squeezed the contents onto your dick and spread it evenly, wondering if this would even fit. After a minute, you grabbed his wrist and scoffed, "are you done playing?" Out of nervousness and excitement he forgot to stick it inside him, looking away in shame before lining the tip up with his hole.
"HnnGgh.. this is h-hard.." he complained under his breath, trying his best to take you. You wanted to prepare him first, but he said he wanted the first thing to enter him to be you and not some fingers. Since that was what he wanted, you decided to let him be. That's what led to your current situation, where he's desperately poking his entrance with your dick. “NghhHg..! Ah, f-feels good..” Finally he managed to take your tip, already panting like he had ran a marathon. "Good job." You praised him, then caressed his soft thighs. They were covered by his clothes, which annoyed you a little, so you gripped his hips and butt before slamming him down your cock. "AhhHGGgNN.!? AahHH..! H-hurts.." He moaned out loudly, then slumped against your chest, fingers clawing at you for support.
Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, his body shivered at the sudden impact. You were stretching him so much, he could swear his butt was going to tear. At the same time he was so happy, enjoying this to the fullest. His insides were working overtime, trying to accommodate your thickness and length, his rim clenching and loosening up with each inhale. He made such sinful noises when your hands squeezed his snatched waist, to the point you wondered if he was telling the truth earlier. After waiting for him to stop holding onto you like his life depended on it, you cupped his cheeks, making him look up at you. “Look here, fyodor, tell me how good it feels.” Then you grind your hips against his.
The movements were minimal, you didn’t make him ride you yet, only pushing it slightly deeper inside him. Yet the reaction was better than expected. He arched his back, throwing his arms around your neck out of reflex and whined, “ahHhH!! I-i love it, god, it’s so NGhh m-my insides are tingling..♡” You clicked your tongue, grabbing his butt to have a better grip and praised him, “so good for me.. there’s to turning back now, you don’t mind sinning for me, right?” He didn’t even think twice before saying, “I’ll do whatever you want me to..!”
After getting his permission, you told him to hold onto you tightly. Once he did as you commanded, you manhandled him and made him go up and down your dick. Your little worshipper wasn’t particularly short, rather, he was unusually light. He couldn’t even keep a straight face composure anymore, crashing against you once again as he moaned into your ears. Poor boy was crying due to the overwhelming pleasure, thighs trying to close together in a twitching manner and toes curled off the ground. Drool dripped down his chin and soaked your clothes, all while he moaned out your Titel.
“L-lord, god.. ah, please!! S-slow down.. ngHh, too much, too big..♡♡” his voice became higher with each trust, and bruises began to form around his hips because of your rough grip. “Didn’t you say I can do what I want?” You reminded him, licking your lips when you saw his melting face. How those beautiful water drops raced down his cheeks like soft rain against a window. His pupils even formed little hearts to match that pleasure-ridden gaze in his eyes. Most of his bangs stuck to his forehead, the rest of his hair bounced around whenever you made him ride you.
Then you said fuck it and ripped his priest robe, so that you’d have more access to his skin. “Hu-hUHmnn..?! M-my lord! AhhHNN!!” He shrieked when he noticed one of your hand on his inner thighs, pinching and groping his skin. “W-why there..? Nghhh…” Fyodor groaned, a tad embarrassed by the intimate touch. His deity was touching him after all. Alone the thought of you, his one and only god, fucking him and using him was enough to get him to the verge of cumming.
More precum leaked from his shameless tip, soiling the back of your hand. “M-m’sorry, so-sorry..ah, for being d-dirty..!” He immediately apologised, holding your wrist weakly and bringing it to his lips. Then he slowly licked off the pre, using kitten licks that looked so inexperienced and adorable that you had to tease him more. Sticking your finger into his mouth and snapping your hips against his. Fastening your pace, going rougher and deeper, rutting into him like he was some fleshlight. At this point his petite body won’t be able to take it! He’s so slim and vulnerable, it’d be a shame to break his mind and make him your toy, wouldn’t it?
“MhmMNN… ah, r-right there..Nghh, too f-fast, g-god! feels good~ ♡” Fyodor mewled into your ears, squeaking as he tried to shake his ass for you. But he was more on the passive side, letting you move his body however you saw fit. His sloppy and slutty hole was making squelching noises whenever you bottom out in him, all sticky with lube already. You were so caught up in the moment, you weren’t even sure what you were doing. All you knew was you wanted to touch him, to feel up his figure and trace the outlines of his body. Then you kissed his neck, causing him to whimper uncontrollably. “Hnghh… I- mHhm, l-lord help me.. I want more♡ something is coming out..!!” The boy gasped and smiled, grinning satisfied, the expression almost looked dumb.
You did as he asked of you, slamming him down onto your dick harder and trying to hit his sweet spot more often. The way it rubbed and played with his soft and warm walls made him see the light, or he was just about to blank out. “Nghh! F-forgive me.. for my siiiinnns..!! ♡♥︎~” The priest, Fyodor, your exclusive worshipper and toy servant groaned a last time before shooting ropes of cum out of his twitching member. His thick and filthy cum got everywhere. From his ripped clothes to his milky inner thighs and chest. Then he slumped down, pleasure and sensations he never felt before all coursing through him at once. He felt so good, this was the first time he felt this amazing. It must be due to you, because of your blessings.
Oh how lucky he was to serve such a kindhearted and generous god, who was patient enough to show him all this bliss. This was heavenly~ His body was still a shaking, twitching mess. The lingering ecstasy making him sob and moan louder. After giving him a gift this great, he will have to serve you even more diligently and wholeheartedly! He will make sure to worship and treasure whatever you gave him!
Even you had to catch up your breath since the session was so intense, panting a little while still admiring him. You were still inside him, and he was clenching down onto you without letting you pull out. Then you leaned back against the lean of the bench, signing when you realised what you just did. Now you were definitely going to hell. Fucking a priest in the praying halls, were you possessed? Right before you could tell him to get off, since you two had to clean up, he took off his clothes completely. “Huh..? Fyodor?” You whispered in disbelief. Sure, you ruined his robes, but why did he take them off?
It was the first time you saw him entirely naked, and he was as skinny as you noticed him to be. His nipples were all hard and pink, a cute colour in your opinion. A few seconds later, he re-positioned himself in your lap despite his legs giving up under him. Then, he slowly rode you, jumping up and down while wrapping one hand around his shaft. You rushed to stop him, saying, “wait a sec- shouldn’t we, especially you, take a break?” Seriously, for how sickly and pathetic he looks, he had quit the stamina? Instead of obeying you like normally, fyodor smirked obsessively and moaned, “G-god, forgive me for i-indulging..! Ahhh.. I’m so sinful, I deserve punishment. But..!! it’s just so good I can’t stop ♥︎♡.”
What…? Wait- isn’t this priest too slutty…?? It seems you’ll have to suck it up and wait until he milked himself dry on your dick ♥︎

#sub character#sub!character#dom reader#dom!reader#sub bsd#sub bungou stray dogs#sub fyodor#fyodor bungo stray dogs#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader#fyodor bungou stray dogs#fyodor bsd#fyodor#fyodor x reader#bsd fyodor#fyodor dostoyevsky bsd#bungou stray dogs fyodor#fyodor dostoevsky#fyodor x you#fyodor x y/n#fyodor dostoyevsky smut#fyodor dostoyesky#bsd smut#bsd x reader#bsd x gender neutral reader#bsd x you#bsd x y/n#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x you
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need some angst so bad — maybe where reader lives with george, arthurtv, chris — arthur major fancies her, but has noticed chris or george has been taking a liking to her, flirting, etc. maybe him getting jealous and confessing his love??? and if you wanted to spice it up a little, throw some angry sex in there
a new arthurtv fic that is yours to devour! there is lots going on in my current drafts and over on my google docs and a lot going of 'work in progress's that has been started - including 'locked in' which i know a lot of you have been asking about - and i'm hoping most of it will be with you guys soon! thank you for being so patient with me - life has thrown a few curve balls at me and i haven't been online as much as i hoped to be recently so it means a lot that you guys are sending in stuff to keep this stuff going, ha. <33 word count; 6.8k ** TRIGGER WARNINGS; SMUT, FOUL LANGUAGE, ANGST **
"He's been such a grump tonight."
YN looked over her shoulder and in the direction of where Arthur was sat sporting an unhappy look on his face; his lips pouted and in a sunken manner that she hadn’t seen a smile on all day, slouched down on the sofa and barely interested in the party happening around him nor the music that was clinging to the atmosphere of the room, with his eyes glued to his phone screen and his thumb tapping away as he scrolled his socials to distract and distance himself from the rest of the room. Keeping away from the chaos of the house party, where the majority of their friends had gathered to celebrate YN’s decision in moving in, was going on.
"He’s been weird with me all day," YN admitted and Chris couldn’t help but give her a strange look, eyebrows furrowed on his forehead, "I don't know what I’ve done wrong, or whether I’ve said anything to upset him, but he's barely spoken a word to me all night. I could have sworn he was so excited for this to happen."
"That is weird."
"I honestly don't know what I’ve done so I don’t know how to make it up to him or how to apologise to get him to come over and enjoy himself," YN frowned, turning in her chair and tearing her attention away from Arthur and looking back to Chris, clasping tighter to the red solo cup that held her drink in her hand, taking a sip from the straw that was peeking over the rim, the top completely sodden and chewed upon yet she couldn't be bothered to get up and grab a brand new one from the cupboard, "we're all having fun over here. Playing games, having a good time, singing and dancing, drinking all the booze. And there he is, grumpy and antisocial, sitting by himself and barely involving himself with anyone."
Chris leaned over the small gap between their stools and squeezed YN’s knee reassuringly, acting as a silent 'don't worry about it for now’, before retracting his hand after a brief moment so he could finish off the dribble of his vodka and soda left behind in his cup. Standing to his feet, he held his hand out and pulled YN from the stool she was sitting upon, with his intentions being to get her another drink because it seemed like she needed it. He could read Arthur like a book, having known him since they were school kids, and he didn’t want YN to get upset over the man having a moment of uncertainty in his own mind… a moment where Chris could tell Arthur was suffocating in a room full of those he was closest to.
"Let’s get a refill and join in with George’s game of 'ring of fire'. Take your mind off of him being grumpy. Everyone else is here for you tonight, yeah? Let’s enjoy that."
"I’m not sure I want to. Look at the state of that pint glass," YN frowned and looked at the glass in the middle of the dining table, filled with a concoction of god-knows-what. No doubt a mix of lagers and ciders as well as the spirits that everyone seemed to be on, "if I drink whatever they’ve mixed there, then I will definitely spew everywhere and christen the toilet in a way that won’t be pretty."
Chris couldn’t help but roll his eyes - there was no way she would turn down a drinking game and it made him feel internally frustrated knowing she was doubting her enjoyment because of Arthur feeling sorry for himself. It wasn’t like her to not get involved, to turn down an offer of shots, to stay away from the excitement of the party happening around her. He stood beside her at the kitchen counter, where there were bottles of half-filled Smirnoff and Gordons as well as Southern Comfort and Sourz littered around, and he topped up his drink with a lot more than a double vodka, simply eyeballing the amount of alcohol he wanted in his drink and YN couldn’t help but laugh at how his glass was practically more than half mixer and half booze. Following suit, without a care in the world on how much Southern Comfort she tipped into her used cup because she felt she’d gotten to that point of the night where the taste of alcohol had disappeared, pouring lemonade on top and watching as the bubbles almost fountained down the side.
And yet she couldn’t help herself, once she grasped her drink in her hand, from looking over her shoulder to see if Arthur wanted another beer opened. A peace offering, if you will, to clear the air between them and start fresh. She hadn’t seen him get up all night, nursing the same bottle of Peroni for over an hour and a half, and she was certain it was probably warm and very flat and not so pleasant to enjoy. Except her eyes landed on an empty sofa cushion, where he once sat, with his unfinished Peroni bottle forgotten about on the coffee table.
"Where did he go?"
Chris shrugged, "forget about him for the moment. Can we, at least, go and have a dance or something then? if you won't play a drinking game, at least have a boogie? This is so unlike you, YN. You’re usually the life of the party."
"I might go and see if I can find Arthur first," she stated and she turned back to look at him, a pang of guilt bouncing around in her chest when she saw Chris’ face drop with sadness, "I’m only going to see what's wrong with him. Maybe I can coax a smile off of him, get him to come out and have some fun. It doesn’t feel the same without him here. He needs to be here."
She turned away from the counter and stepped in the direction of the fridge, which was once filled with beer and chilled ciders as opposed to its usual job of chilling their day-to-day food, and pulled out a fresh, cold bottle of beer in her free hand, uncapping it with a bottle opener before worming her way through her friends, insisting she'd be back in a moment when they asked her to join in with them. With Sabina trying her hardest to pull her in the direction of the excitement, and George looking at her with a pleading look because he needed help in the game he suggested they play, and she could feel Chris following her until he took the empty seat beside Arthur Hill and tried his best to fit in to the game that must have been near completion.
Her feet took her towards the small hallway that led to the bedrooms of the flat, stepping foot in front of the door that was opposite to hers and tapping her knuckle against the wood softly, tentatively calling out his name at a volume he should have been able to hear her.
"Arthur?"
She used her elbow to push on the handle so the door would open and, to no surprise, she found him sitting on the edge of his bed. His phone had been chucked in a frustrated throw, by the looks of how and where it had landed on the mattress beside him, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands with his fingers digging deep into his eyes as the silence of his room was broken by her voice.
"Arthur, are you okay? You’ve been-"
"I’m fine."
It wasn't said maliciously but it had been said with a tone that felt harsh, snapping at her suddenly and it took her aback, the look on his face stern and unhappy and it dawned on her that she must have done something to upset him for him to speak in such a way. And she wanted to find out what so she could live with him (as well as George, Chris and Arthur Hill) with no animosity in the air to bring the mood down.
She stepped further inside his bedroom with a plan on breaking the barrier he had built to keep her away because she wanted to work things out, right then and there, kicking the door shut with her heel and hearing it click closed at the door frame.
"Something is wrong with you, Arthur. You’re bringing the enjoyment of the night down."
"Then go back out there and leave me alone. I didn’t ask for you to come and find me, YN."
His words hung heavy in the air and YN took a deep inhale of breath, trying not to let his mood and his words derail her on her plan to get him to come out and enjoy the celebrations happening on the other side of his bedroom door. Because she wanted him to come back out to enjoy everything with everyone, she wanted him to partake in celebrating this new venture for her and for the friends she was moving in with, she wanted Arthur back to his usual self. The anger in his words, the tone that wasn’t his usual tone, struck her inside and she could feel her heart beating heavy and fast behind her ribs, yet she held her ground.
"I don't want to go back out there whilst you’re so upset," she insisted, holding out the beer for him to take, "I brought you a Peroni in, a fresh one, because George is necking them like there's no tomorrow and they’ll-"
"I don't want it."
"At least-"
"YN, I said no," he grumbled lowly and looked at her properly, brown eyes dark and his jaw was tense, her eyes widening ever so slightly at his attitude, "go back out there with Chris. I’m sure he's wondering where you are."
YN scoffed heavily and shook her head in disbelief, setting the opened beer bottle down on the desk before placing her own cup next to it, stepping towards him and he stood up from the bed to move away from her. Shaking her head at how his assumptions - his silly and stupid guesses - had brought out a side that no one had ever seen come from Arthur.
"Is that why you're angry with me?"
"What?"
"You’re angry with me because I’ve spent more time with Chris tonight than you? Because I'm having a good time with him at my own moving-in party?" She questioned him and his eyes sporadically darted around his bedroom so he didn't have to look in her direction, chewing on the inside of his cheek because she could see right through him and he didn’t want her to know that… because, of course, she was right. "I’m right, aren't I? You’re jealous?"
"I’m not," he hissed, "I just don't feel like I’m in the partying mood."
"Rubbish, Arthur. That is total bollocks," YN cried out, "you were raving on and on and on about this party the other day. You went out and brought all the booze for us. The food. You were the most excited out of all of us to welcome me into this flat."
"Yeah, well… I guess things change, YN."
"Not as drastically as you’ve just changed over your stupid assumptions," she fired back at him in a tone that almost matched his, yet she couldn’t bring herself to speak to him so harshly, placing her hands on her hips and popping a hip, "Arthur, come on. what's the matter?"
The silence of the bedroom was thick with tension. Suffocating. Thick enough to be cut with a butcher's knife. And she could feel it as she stood and waited for an answer to roll off of his tongue. An answer that would come out sounding like an excuse as to why he wanted to hide away from everyone, with a frown pinching the features together on his face to accompany how he felt, instead of enjoying the party with all his friends as they celebrated this new venture they were about to embark on.
His heart was pumping behind his ribs, his hands turning into fists on either side of his body, and it took everything within him not to grab her face and project his feelings through the form of physicality rather than verbally, a desire to cover ravenous kisses along the expanse of her neck, showing her just what the problem was.
Because she was the problem.
He hated the way she had taken Chris up on his offer on going out for dinner before they joined in with the party later on that evening and he hated the way she was so excited to go out with him and how it was all she went on about for most of that day. He hated the way he had to help her choose an outfit to wear because she couldn't decide what looked better on her and he hated how she'd been around his friend all evening as opposed to hanging around with him. He hated how she made no effort to keep him included, how he wasn’t a priority during the night, how she seemed to be much happier talking to Chris than she had ever been with him.
Which, if you asked YN, she would retort because of how ridiculous he sounded.
She didn’t think of it as a date and Chris had made it clear that it was just “lunch with a friend” to welcome her into the flat and explain how it was going to be the craziest path she’d gone down, and nothing but that.
"Fine, you want to know?"
She nodded with no hesitation.
"You."
"Me?"
She pressed a hand to her chest and he could see the hurt in her eyes as she looked at him, her lips parted and her cheeks bright pink once she managed to look at him, her eyes beginning to water at each of the corners yet she refused to let any of her tears fall down her cheeks because he didn’t deserve them. In that moment, he was acting like an ass and she hated the man that was standing before her, glum and in a mood that had ruined what had been a good day.
He didn’t deserve the attention was giving him… yet she couldn’t bring herself to turn on her heels and walk out the door.
"Yes," he said, "you. You've been the problem the whole night. In fact, all day. You've been a problem all day."
"What did I do?"
Her voice was shaky and she didn’t think she could trust herself to say anything in fear she let her true feelings come clear for him. Keeping her words short, to the point and brief, because she could feel the lump in her throat beginning to burn, making it hard to swallow and making her head ache. The tears built up more and more as it became tougher to hold them back and he could see them glistening underneath the bedroom lighting. He could see the upset he was causing yet he couldn’t stop himself from carrying on.
"Is Chris the reason you moved in with us? Because you just want to be near him all the time? You crave the male attention so much that you took us up on our offer so you could be closer to him?" Arthur questioned her intensely and she gasps, breath catching in her throat and she gulps back what she wanted to say, "I get the feeling, after today, that you love the attention he's given you."
"Arthur-"
"No, it’s my turn to speak since you wanted to know what the problem was," he held up his arm and lifted his finger to his lips for her to keep quiet, "all night, you've been hanging off of him. Standing with him, barely leaving his side, letting him get you drinks. You have other guests here and you choose to stand with him all night."
"He's my friend-"
"That’s total bollocks," he mocked her and she frowned heavily at him, "friends don't go out for romantic dinners. Friends don't touch each other's knees. Friends don't go to a party and pretend to be the only ones in the room."
"I-"
"You’re oblivious to everything, YN.”
He paused, and he really wanted to stop himself from talking because he couldn’t bear to look in her teary eyes for any longer and shout at her as he tried to navigate through his thoughts and his feelings and the emotions that came with it. And it dawned on him, in that moment, that he’d definitely taken it too far…
“YN, you’re oblivious to me."
He swallowed thickly and, in that moment, he took in the look on her face that he really wished he hadn't seen. The way her eyes glistened under the gentle light of his room, the way she picked at her fingers as she tried to busy her mind, the way she stared at the ground once she saw him looking at her and not in the direction of his face.
"YN-"
"No, Arthur, please carry on," she whispered, "tell me how much of a slag I am for the male attention. Specifically from a man I have no interest in."
"I never called you a slag, for god sake," he said, rolling his head back and digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning heavily in annoyance, "YN-"
"I wasn't trying to be a problem for you, Arthur. I didn’t think anything of it. Me and Chris, it was nothing. We never went on a date and nothing happened tonight. Whatever you think happened, it didn’t," she looked up from the carpet and took a look at his features, his eyes softer than they were before and he looked almost apologetic, "I don't like him like that."
"You really could have fooled me," Arthur grumbled and she rolled her eyes at him, "seriously."
"He’s fresh out of a relationship, Arthur. I don't think he's looking for anything," YN said, "I wouldn't do that to Shannon anyway. It’s girl-code not to go for a friend's ex-boyfriend. It’s not right and I’m not going to ruin a friendship for a man who has been my friend for years."
He perched himself back down on the edge of the bed, just inches from where he had sat before, and let his back fall against the mattress with a heavy groan releasing from deep within his gut. Almost sounding embarrassed for jumping the gun, for assuming, for not being a grown man and, instead, acting like a schoolboy who had just had his heart broken by his first crush. And as much as she wanted to sit beside him, to calm the atmosphere down and to give him an understanding explanation that was a lot more chilled out now they’d taken a moment to breathe, YN couldn't help but stand and watch him as he covered his face with his hands. She felt nervous just standing in the middle of his bedroom, unsure of whether she should leave him to wallow in self-pity or stay and work things through with him, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
"If you weren't so anti-social tonight and kept yourself away from the party, you would have realised that me and Chris were talking about you," YN broke the silence, taking slow steps towards to where he was sprawled out on his bed and sitting herself down beside him, her thigh connecting with his, "I was talking about you, Arthur. Because I care about you, you’re probably my best friend out of the four of you living here, and me and you… we were so excited to finally be living under the same roof. I wanted you out there, I wanted you next to me and in the conversation so I could talk to you."
He refused to look at her, burying his head further into the palms of his hands because the more she spoke, the worse he felt. She wrapped both her hands around his wrists to pry them both from his face, revealing the guilty look that pinched his features together once he’d realised he’d overreacted over something that he’d created in his mind. His eyes stayed trained upon his ceiling, as much as he wanted to look at her and take in her appearance, because he knew he’d cave once he made eye contact with her. She let go of his wrists and he clasped his hands together and rested them on his chest.
"Why?"
"Because it felt weird that you weren't involving yourself like you normally do. I wanted you to come and enjoy the party with us," YN admitted, "with me."
"You could have invited me over," he grumbled and, eventually, he shifted his vision and looked at her, his eyes no longer looking dark and were filled with a little more emotion, soft and sweet and like his usual self, "I’m sorry. I guess I got a little jealous."
"A little?"
"Okay," he puffed out a breath and laughed softly and she smiled, watching as he sat himself up and twisted his body around so he could look at her face-on rather than with a craned neck to the side, "a lot. I got jealous and let it come between us."
"I don't like Chris like that. He's my friend. Now my roommate. I don’t want him. But, you," she took both of his hands in her own and squeezed them tightly with her fingers, letting her thumb brush over the skin just below his knuckles, "you're just something special, Arthur Frederick. You have me intrigued."
The way his full name rolled off of her tongue erupted something inside of him that felt volcanic hot and he longed to hear it again.
"How so?"
"I want to explore you," she brought her bottom lip between her teeth and she chewed on the soft and pink flesh and he could have sworn his cock twitched in his trousers at the momentary look she gave him as she gave her lip a nibble, "all of you, Arthur. I want you. I don't want anyone out there. I don’t want Chris. I want you. I’ve always wanted you."
"Then have me," he whispered, low and raspy and the way his breath fanned across her face made her feel weak at the knees and she knew she would have fallen to the floor if she was standing so she was thankful for the soft material beneath her that kept her a little more stable in the situation, "I'm all yours, YN."
And that’s all it took.
The party outside the door faded away and the space between them became minimal and, as their breaths mixed together, he brought his hands up to cup her cheeks perfectly in his palms, bringing her closer in hopes to close off the gap between their bodies and not just their lips, hastily and quickly in a kiss that the two of them had longed to endure for a while. His lips tasted like beer whilst hers tasted like lemonade and a hint of whiskey from the Southern Comfort liquor she’d been sipping on all night, his favourite taste on someone who’d become his favourite person, and it only enticed him to deepen their kiss. Her arms hung around his neck, fingers clasping around the hairs at the nape of his neck, to encourage the encounter happening between them to become more lust-filled, more deeper.
“Are you sure about this?”
She felt her back hit the mattress as they shuffled into a more comfortable position on the bed, her head sinking into the pillow that cradled from her neck and up, and it wasn’t long before the view of the ceiling was intercepted by his face and her breath hitched in her throat. His hair fell over his forehead, eyes drunk on the sight of the girl he’d been longing for beneath him, forearms placed either side of her head and he used his upper body strength to prop himself up above her.
“I’m sure,” she whispered, her resolve staying calm and steady and unwavering as the moment presented itself perfectly, “so sure.”
She brought his head down to her level using the grip she had clasped into his hair and their lips joined together in yet another devouring kiss, his tongue on a mission for entry into her mouth, which made her stomach tingle and her fingers tighten around his hair. His tongue collided with hers, muscle fighting muscle, and she could see why he was so proud in telling the world that it was his strong muscle in his body. The atmosphere had changed from a suffocating and tense feeling where neither of them could bear to look at the other to a slightly more unbearable and suffocating sexual tension that felt like a scratch both of them needed to itch. His lips worked their way down her jawline, peppering wet and open-mouthed kisses across her skin, before his face disappeared into the crook of her neck. Slowly lowering his body upon hers, one knee keeping her legs from closing fully and one keeping him stable and holding some of his weight so he wasn’t squashing her. Nibbling at her flesh, sucking and leaving marks behind that he wanted everyone to see once they walked out of his bedroom, and deep down, he wanted Chris to see. In hopes that he’d get the hint that she was his and no one else’s. That she wanted him and had eyes for no one else. That their date, that she said wasn’t a date but was definitely a date in Chris’ eyes, meant nothing but lunch with a friend. That he was one of the reasons why she was now living across the hallway and not across the city.
The feeling of his stubble scratching at the skin of her neck brought goosebumps up on the surface of her arms, the way his weight situated upon her and the way his hands roamed her body sent a shiver down her spine, and the way she felt his breath fan across the skin of her exposed collarbone made her sink deeper into the mattress beneath her. Certain that she had melted into a puddle, much like a snowman melting on a warm winter’s afternoon. The noise of the party just outside his bedroom door went completely forgotten about. The muffled bass of the music pounding the walls, yet neither of them cared for the people out in the living room because they were too sucked in with being with each other.
It wasn’t long before she found her fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt, shoving the material off of his shoulders to reveal the sleeper build he kept from the internet, his body sitting up for a moment so he could shrug it off and throw it aimlessly in the room, going completely forgotten about for the moment, and landing in a place in his room that he didn’t really obsess over because he was desperate to get back to the taste of her. His hands repaying the favour as he slid his hands underneath the hem of her t-shirt and he used his wrists to slide it over her head, revealing the plump swells of her breasts decorated with a lavender laced bra that cupped them perfectly.
“I’d like to think you wore this for me.”
“How do you know I didn’t?” She whispered in response, unknowing of the ache in his belly that had started to form, “how do you know I didn’t anticipate this?”
She felt exposed as she lay beneath him, her chest on full show, as he looked like a hungry schoolboy drinking in her appearance in a fantasy he dreamt about too frequently. The only piece of clothing still attached to her body being the ripped jeans that gave less to the imagination; hanging loose around her hips with a slight rip at one knee and a gaping hole on her opposite thigh that ran down to her other knee.
“You drive me crazy,” he admitted, leaning back as his fingers worked on undoing the button of his trousers and it enticed her to do the same, toying with the button of her jeans so she could give him the opportunity to pull them free from her legs, “I’d have made a move sooner if I wasn’t so stupid in my feelings.”
“You weren’t stupid, you idiot,” she rolled her eyes at his dramatics and watched as he pushed away from her body and back onto his knees, awkwardly shuffling out of his trousers and kicking them off the edge of the bed, letting them fall in a heap at his bedside and revealing the hardening bulge that stretched his boxers to accommodate his throbbing and pulsing cock. She felt herself tingle between her legs at just how he was feeling in the moment and she was glad he was eager for this to happen as much as she was, “we don’t need to dwell on that now, right? Don’t ruin the moment, Arthur. Not now.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured, digging his fingers into the waistband of her jeans and giving them a tug to reveal the matching, lavender-laced pair of knickers that matched her bra, “christ.”
“Come on, silly boy, what are you waiting for?”
She lifted her legs and watched as he pulled the denim from over her ankles, tossing them behind his head and she watched as the material nearly wiped his desk clean, knocking over his pen pot that spilled over his desktop. Something he could worry about once the morning came along. He didn’t seem to care, though, as he pressed his face into the flesh of her stomach and let his mouth drag across her skin. Skin that was so soft and so smooth against his stubble-dusted cheeks and, with a deep inhale, she smelt like the coconut shower gel that lingered in the steam of the bathroom after she was finished with her shower. Her fingers combed his hair as his curled into the elastic of her knickers, pulling them free from his skin having left tiny indentations upon her hips, as she couldn’t have anticipated the moment more.
“Fuck the foreplay, Arthur.”
“But-”
“I need you.”
It came out as a beg and she didn’t care how pathetic or needy she sounded to him. She was desperate to feel him slide between her dampened walls, that were calling out for him, screaming to feel satisfied by his touch. As much as she wanted to be devoured by his mouth, she just needed to feel something better. Arthur's eyes darkened with desire at her words and he paused for just a moment, searching her face to make sure she was certain. And, when she gave him an eager nod of encouragement and gave him the answer he was hoping for, he wasted no more time.
“Another time then,” he grumbled with a rasp in his throat, “trust me, I’ll have you on my tongue next time.”
That made her feel giddy.
Next time.
Oh, there was definitely going to be a next time.
There was no way she wanted this to be a one time, drunken night spent with him after a silly argument where they had finally confessed a tiny inkling of their feelings towards each other. She was obsessed with his touch, his stare, the way he focused his attention on her in a room and she was under a spell when he had her right where he wanted her. A spell cast upon her, and only her, when he spoke so eloquently and intriguingly.
The room was spinning and she felt even drunker; maybe the many Southern Comfort’s she’d necked prior to this moment, in the kitchen mixed with dribbles of lemonade, didn’t help but he definitely had a way with words that made her knees- no, her entire body, go weak.
“We’ll have to see how well you do here,” she grinned cheekily and he shook his head in amusement, “don’t make me wait any longer, Arthur. I need you.”
And he obeyed.
She watched him intently as he dug his hand beneath the elastic waistband of his boxers and pulled them down to the tops of his thighs, wrapping his fingers around the girth of his length and giving himself a couple of pumps with his wrist before he situated himself above her. He positioned himself between her legs, his eyes locked on hers as he slowly pushed inside her, wanting to watch every emotion that tore through her body, eliciting a soft gasp from between her lips as she welcomed him into her warmth. The feeling of him stretching her, filling her completely, had her insides burning with ecstasy. He paused for a moment, letting her adjust to his size, waiting for her to give him the go ahead to continue.
"You okay?" he whispered, his face inches from hers, “tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop.”
YN nodded, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him closer, gulping back the moan that was bubbling to escape, knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep her volume at a level that kept their escapade a secret.
"Perfect," she breathed out slowly, “it feels perfect.”
Arthur started to move, setting a steady rhythm as he rocked his hips against hers, and YN clung to his shoulders tightly. Her nails digging into his skin as pleasure coursed through her body, leaving tiny crescent-shaped indents in his skin, decorating his shoulders with a mark of the satisfaction she was feeling. Their lips meeting, again, in a passionate kiss that muffled their moans as the party continued just outside the door.
"Fuck," Arthur groaned, dropping his forehead to rest against hers as he bottomed out and let the pleasure take over his entirety, "you feel amazing."
YN wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer as she adjusted to his size. After a moment, she rolled her hips experimentally, urging him to move and he took the hint and began to thrust, starting with slow, deep strokes that had YN arching her back in pleasure.
"More," she panted, digging her nails into his shoulders, "faster, Arthur."
He obliged, picking up the pace and angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside her with each thrust. The room filled with an array of sounds; the sloppiness of his thrusts as he pleased her with his throbbing length, the heaviness of his breathing that escaped from his parted lips as he gave her exactly what she wanted with an amount of effort that he hoped was enough to show her how much he longed for what was happening, the sultry moans and appraisals that flowed off her tongue each time he managed to press at her internal buttons that had her squirming beneath him and gripping his skin tighter. The pounding of the bass music happening just outside the door getting even more muffled by how they weren’t holding back on keeping non-verbal.
He could feel the knot in his stomach unravelling every time she tightened her walls around him and, in his own clouded mind, he was hoping she was getting as close to a climax as he was. His thumb rubbing circles beneath her clitoral hood and her hands came up to hold either side of his face, keeping his eyes on hers.
“Please,” he whispered softly down to her, “do it with me, yeah?”
She nods in response and gulps back the thick lump in her throat, his thumb working harder on rubbing continuous circles on the small ball of nerves between her folds, her legs quivering around his hips and he could feel the way the hold on his face was loosening around his cheeks. Moan after moan after moan escaping her gaping mouth and her hands come down to cover her eyes, feeling the white hot and piercing knot in her stomach screaming out to loosen up, her toes curling as she allowed herself to lose control and release all the built up tension in her body that came with the pleasure he was applying to tiny bundle of nerves. His orgasm soon followed suit, painting her stomach with his release, his groans becoming slightly more guttural and raspy and she combed her fingers through his hair as he dribbled the last few drops onto her skin.
He fell on the bed beside her, adjusting his boxers so he maintained a slight amount of modesty, gulping back the dryness in his throat that made him crave that Peroni she had entered his bedroom with. Her heavy breathing made her chest rise and fall, his own chest falling rapidly rhythmically, and their elongated heavy exhales were the only thing that kept the room from complete silence - that and the music coming from the speakers in the living room… and oh boy, were they glad of that because it saved an awkward conversation once they left the room to join the rest of their friends.
“What do we do now?”
“I think,” he paused for a moment…
… and YN thought it was to add some effect to the words he wanted to say yet in his own mind, that was still clouded and fuzzy from the post-orgasm feeling, he wasn’t entirely sure what their next move was. He was still trying to find the words to explain how he had longed for the moment where he got to kiss her, how he wanted to hold her, how he had thought about the kind of intimacy they brought to the bedroom.
“I think we get you cleaned up first and then we go from there,” he laughed and she suddenly felt a little dirty. Not that it was a dirty act or anything but it was made more apparent to her that what had happened had actually happened and it wasn’t a dream or a daydream, “yeah?”
She hid her face in the crook of his neck and nodded gently, a slight wash of embarrassment wavering over her as she tried to ignore how she was covered in the ending of his arousal, and felt his lips press against her hairline.
“But I think we figure out the next move together,” he suggested, craning his neck so he could look down at her, her forehead glistening with a thin sheen of sweat and her eyes were glossed over, yet they held a form of passion that had his tummy tingling and had him unable to look away, “there’s no denying what just happened. We might as well see what happens next.”
“But what does it mean for us?” She wondered curiously, a hint of hope in her words that his next sentence was going to be something she wanted to hear, “what do we figure out together?”
“I think we give it a shot,” he said, “I’m not letting you go. Not now, not ever. And I’m game to try us out if you are.”
There’s a silence that falls around the room, broken ever so slightly by a brief cheer of appraisal at the change of song happening out in the living room area, and he doesn’t need to hear her verbal answer to his question. The gentle squeeze she gave him, from the arm draped over his hip, was all he needed to know she was game for whatever life threw at them next.
There’s a silence that falls around the room, broken ever so slightly by a brief cheer of appraisal at the change of song happening out in the living room area, and he doesn’t need to hear her verbal answer to his question. The gentle squeeze she gave him, from the arm draped over his hip, was all he needed to know she was game for whatever life threw at them next.
“I’m glad you didn’t stay mad at me,” she whispered softly, looking up at him as he looked down at her, sweat covering his skin and his fringe sticking to his forehead, “you’re the last person I want to upset, Arthur. Ever.”
“You didn’t upset me,” he responded, a lopsided smile on his lips that was full of tiredness but complete euphoria, “it was me that upset me. My own fault for being jealous and blinded by my own assumptions, I guess. I never actually bothered to know the truth and I should have just grown up and told you how I felt from the beginning.”
“I might have to make you jealous a bit more often,” she giggled softly, placing her hand flat against his stomach, “I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had. With anyone.”
“Don’t flatter me,” he snorted out a laugh and stretched an arm out around her shoulders and pulled her closer into his side, “do you think we can enjoy this moment a bit longer or should we go and show our faces out there?”
“Soon,” she closes her eyes in content and lets out a heavy, happy and satisfied sigh, “let's just enjoy this moment for a little bit longer. Let them wonder.”
if you got this far then thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed this one as much as i enjoyed writing it... it's definitely one i'm proud of! my inbox is always open, too, so feel free to send in some ideas and flood my messages with stuff you guys wanna talk about! x
#arthurtv#arthurtv imagines#arthurtv smut#arthurtv fics#arthurtv headcannons#arthurtv prompts#arthurtv blurbs#arthur frederick#arthur frederick imagines#arthur frederick smut#arthur frederick fics#arthur frederick headcannons#arthur frederick prompts#arthur frederick blurbs#arthurtv x reader#arthur frederick x reader#arthur frederick x reader smut#arthurtv x reader smut#arthur frederick x reader fics#arthurtv x reader fics
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Sessions (blurb)

Martinez!reader x beginning to be dark!Lottie Matthew’s
YoungerSister!reader x platonic!Travis
Your lotties new protégé after reacting so ‘well’ to her sessions, only your brother Travis isn’t so sure it’s a good idea at all
Obsessed with being lotties little drug test subject atm
Also not properly proof read but I wanted to get something posted cause it felt like it’s been a while
I literally struggle with the wrapping up an imagine soooo badly which is why I always start new concepts and then let them sit in my drafts 😭
Mind you want a part 2 cause I’m feeling like it!!
Warnings:
Cannibalism, drug misuse, forced/pressured drug taking, manipulation, cannon typical stuff, toxic!lottie, Travis who doesn’t know how to control his emotions, ect
She’d moved you into her own hut.
It been so quick Travis hadn’t even noticed till he saw Lottie pulling your smaller form towards your now, shared, shelter after dinner.
One night you had been sharing with akilah, the two of you the youngest there and bonded over your love of caring for the animals together.
And the next, Lottie had you dragging your belongings to her own hut, and leaving akilah with mari.
It wasn’t till a couple mornings later that he got a chance to speak to you about it, watching you stumble out of the room early in the day when he happened to be awake.
You’d always been an early riser, your dad making you get up to practice for soccer with him before school everyday, trying to turn you into the perfect player despite your mother not allowing him to take you off of the jv team for varsity, claiming you were still too young.
But this morning, your eyes were cloudy and your walking was wobbly.
When he approached you and asked you about it, you had brushed him off, telling him you were fine and just a little dizzy from standing up too fast. Though your voice was quiet and distant, and you barely looking at him.
And before he could protest, Lottie was following after you and leading you off into the woods without a word to the boy.
He didn’t do anything the first day.
But when it happened again, and again, you up early and stumbling out into the woods, only half aware of your surroundings and Lottie not far behind, watching you intently, he knew he had to say something.
He didn’t protest when she was using him as a little test subject. He wanted to help them all get home and she was so persistent.
And when she took after akilah, taking her to the caves and having Travis soothe the younger girls for Lottie, he couldn’t bring himself to stop it, not if it meant they could go home.
But you were his little sister, and if he couldn’t save his dad, or protect javi, he certainly wasn’t going to fail with you too.
Lottie would just have to find another way to get you all back.
You laid there. Head in lotties lap, her hand stroking through your hair as you stare off into the woodland blankly.
Your vision was blurry, shaking like waves of heat were surrounding you and making the air bend infront of your very eyes.
“Listen to it” Lottie coaxed gently, “listen to what it’s telling you”
Your brain was foggy, everything was so loud and so quiet at the same time. And as your eyelids fluttered slowly, you couldn’t help but feel like you needed a break.
But you didn’t protest, not as Lottie whispered sweet commands into your ears. Not as she told you to listen to the wilderness.
“Y/n!”
You could hear a voice, calling out. You willed your body to move but all you could do was lay there, head in lotties lap, completely still.
You couldn’t decipher who was speaking, not when the other noises were so loud. It’s like the wind and trees blowing were amplified in your ears.
Your breathing was deep, slowly entering and exiting your open mouth in big gulps like you were struggling to take it all in.
“Shit there you are” Travis muttered, finally finding you both, watching you lay on lotties lap, not even looking up as he approaches.
“Come on” the boy commands quietly, heading towards the pair of you quickly and reaching out to pull you up.
You barely react, letting him guide you up as you continue to stare off disoriented. He watches your glassy eyes, not focusing on anything around you.
“What are you doing?” Lottie asks harshly, standing up after you were off of her lap and reaching for your other hand.
Your body now stuck inbetween them as both their grips tighten, being used as a tug of war between the two brunettes.
“Taking her back, she needs to eat something” Travis says sternly, making the taller girl frown at his change of heart, “this is too much for her she needs to stop!”
You sway uneasily inbetween them, a grip on each of your arms that grows stronger by the second, being the only thing keeping you somewhat grounded.
“She’s fine” Lottie says emotionlessly, sure in her words, “she’s nearly there”
“Jesus Lottie look at her!” Travis snaps, pulling you into his arms fully as lotties grip slips.
The brunette stares at you, watches your blank eyes stare back at her in your drugged up haze, and she frowns. She watches as you sway slightly, probably close to falling if it wasn’t for your elder brothers grip keeping you up right.
“You’ve been doing this at least once a day, you’re killing her!” Travis reiterated, practically growling at the woman who scowls in response, watching the two of you take a step away from her.
“You’re hurting her” he says finally, his voice now softer and so quiet it was close to a whisper.
With silence in the air, Lottie watches as Travis guides you away, dragging you back to camp carefully with a tight grip on your stumbling figure.
All she can do is frown as you both disappear through the woods.
The wilderness wanted to talk to you.
And Lottie wasn’t going to let him stop that.
She wasn’t going to let him take you from her.
#yellowjackets#yellowjackets x reader#yellowjackets x you#yellowjackets spoiler#lottie mathews x reader
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The Hangman Special
Summary: On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.
Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Word count: 7k
AO3 Link
Warnings: 18+ only, kissing, hot and heavy make-outs, exs, truth or dare, bad friends.
Author's note: Dreaming about kissing Jake in a bar. Thanks to everyone who looked at earlier drafts of this. I hope you enjoy this if you take a chance to read. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.
The bar is buzzing with the loud chatter of patrons, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of music. You are sitting at a corner table with your friends, a group with an eclectic mix of personalities. You are known for being more on the shy and reserved side, but tonight, you are even more withdrawn than usual. No one had mentioned that Tassie had also been invited to the evening's hang out at the bar. An oversight you felt was probably intentional since everyone knew Tassie had started dating your ex only a week after your breakup. She went so far as to post a picture of them together on her Instagram. It had been a few months since that happened, and until now, you had managed to avoid running into her. However, it seemed like luck had run out.
"Hey, I've got an idea that would spice up the night," Cece says after the first round of drinks. She is one of your bold and outspoken friends, and you aren't sure you like how she is eyeing you with a mischievous glint. "Let's play truth or dare."
The whole group groans at the suggestion, and one of your friends vaguely wonders if you're all still in middle school playing that kind of game. Despite the initial lack of enthusiasm, after another round of drinks, the group is laughing and entrenched in the game.
When Cece sings your name when she finishes her turn, you are nervous by the sly smile she is wearing as she formulates an option for you when you hesitantly concede to doing a dare. "You're the only one of us still single, so I dare you to go over to the bar and give somebody a kiss."
"What?!"
"Just a quick one, nothing too scandalous," Cece says placatingly. "Come on, live a little! It's just a bit of fun. What's the worst that could happen?"
"I bet they won't do it. They're too chicken for this kind of thing, not one to step out of their comfort zone," Tassie says. It makes your blood freeze in your veins because you know those words. You have heard that criticism thrown at you in the past, but not from her, from your ex.
Your eyes narrow at her, and you ask, "Too chicken? Seriously?"
"Yeah. Please, prove us wrong. Show us you can do something spontaneous," Tassie taunts, grinning. You feel a surge of defiance welling up. Even though you're reserved, you are not one to back down from a challenge, especially not when the woman who cheated with your boyfriend is acting like you're the one who should be ashamed. Acting like she is better than you.
"Fine, watch this," You declare, feeling hot with a mixture of embarrassment and determination. As you stand up, your friends exchange amused glances, convinced that you are about to back out of the dare.
With absolutely no intention of backing down, though, you scan the bar. After a moment of examination your heart soars because you realize you have this dare in the bag. You have the advantage even, because there is a familiar tall, broad-shouldered blonde at the bar that you know all too well. Jake Seresin, or Hangman, is one of your brother's best friends, and he is looking just as delectable tonight as he always does. The group would undeniably be impressed with you kissing someone so handsome, and you knew one way or another you could convince Jake to help you out.
"Cece, I'll even let you pick since you made the dare. Point out the hottest man in the bar, and I'll kiss him." You say confidently. There is no doubt that Jake is the most attractive person there, and he is just Cece's type, too. She falls right into what you want, pointing Hangman out for you. The rest of your friend group hoots, making even more comments that you aren't going to follow through with the dare and approach someone who is that drop-dead gorgeous.
Ignoring their taunts, you square your shoulders and walk with as much confidence as you can summon into sashaying across the bar. Putting mental effort into trying to project some form of hotness onto yourself not only for the confidence boost but also the bit of spite burning in you.
Reaching the bartop area, the hesitation starts to set in as you admire Jake's profile. He is sitting on a bar stool leaning against the counter, patiently waiting for the bartender in the crowd that is starting to grow. Taking one last breath to steady yourself, you reach out and delicately set a hand on his bulging bicep.
"Hangman!" You say brightly as if you're surprised to have run into him. Jake turns to face you at your touch, and an easy wide grin spreads across his face.
"Fancy seeing you here, my dear! How are you?" He asks as his eyes trace you slowly from head to toe and back again, the grin on his face not slipping once.
"Oh, I’m fine, and I am so glad I ran into you."
"Most people are," Jake says, winking at you. You are nearly distracted by his handsome face and flirty tone. He looks like he has put on even more muscle since you saw him last. The green button-down he is wearing appears close to bursting at the seams with how it clings to him. "So, what have you been up to these days?"
"Are you still single?" You blurt quickly, ignoring his question, not wanting to lose your steam.
"Yes, Ma'am. Last I checked. Why?"
"Perfect, can you do me a huge favor?" You ask.
"I'm always happy to help out a friend," Jake says, sounding increasingly suspicious. The smile hasn't dropped from his face, but his eyes have narrowed slightly, examining you.
Quickly standing on your tip toes, you loop an arm around Jake's neck, appreciating that he is sitting on a stool, helping level your height difference. Wasting no time, you pull him down to meet you in a quick kiss. Once his lips brush yours, you let go of him, stepping back, not even taking a moment to savor the feeling or enjoy having Jake this close.
With your mission accomplished, you have every intention of making a hasty retreat back to your friends and hoping that you will be able to forget this. You are going to erase knowing you've kissed Jake Seresin from your brain, and then the next time you see him, you're going to pretend this fiasco never happened. It feels like the best and only course of action for you to take.
However, you don't even get to make a full step away from Jake before large hands and thick arms circle around your waist, pulling you back towards him. He tugs until you are standing between his spread thighs, his hands maintaining their position on your waist.
"Woah now, where do you think you're going?" He asks, eyes darting around your face, studying you closely.
Embarrassment at having to explain your actions rushes through you, turning your stomach and overriding or maybe enhancing the butterflies there. You glance away from Jake towards your friends and see them watching with rapt attention. Then his thumb moves in a slow soothing circle, drawing you back towards him.
"I'm sorry! My friends dared me to kiss someone at the bar, and when I saw you, well, I knew it wasn't a lost cause because you're not a complete stranger."
You refuse to believe that the frown that flashes on Jake's face is one of disappointment. However, it's hard to ignore when his eyebrows are scrunched together, and his hands are so warm you feel it bleeding through your clothing.
"You could at least buy someone a drink before stealing a kiss, you know. That's just some common decency."
"I'm so sorry, Jake," you apologize again. "Let me buy you a beer for your troubles."
"Naw, you don't got to."
"Well, now I have to because you made me feel bad," you say, waving your arm to try and flag down a bartender.
"I didn't take you for one to just kiss someone on a dare," he says conversationally. You try not to wriggle uncomfortably in his hold, but without even trying, he seems to have pulled you even closer.
"I normally wouldn't be," you agree. "But the girl who I highly suspect of cheating with my ex while we were still together is here. I'm sure she thinks she's better than me and that I'm a boring prude."
"She clearly has never been around when you drink tequila," Jake laughs. You can't believe he would still remember the camping trip from years ago, where you were drinking tequila. Definitely notable because it was probably the last time you had dared have any of the liquor.
"Can you please forget about that? And tonight, too?" You request. Jake pretends to think it over, humming lightly before shaking his head.
"Sorry, no can do. It's already burned into my eidetic memory." You huff at his response, avoiding eye contact with him to try and catch sight of the bartender again. "You know, if you just asked me first, I would have given you the friends and family discount."
"And what is that?"
"Pretty similar to buy one get one free," he says, his voice dropping a little lower. Your mouth falls open in surprise, but you can't find any words. "Could have given you more than a quick peck, something that would really wow your friends."
Trying very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss Jake would consider wowing, you decide to deflect. Jokingly saying, "Didn't think you were from one of those kinda southern states. Do you make a habit of kissing family members?"
Jake throws his head back and laughs full-bellied at you. "The friends and family of my friends discount then," he amends.
"I already hate being in this situation. I don't want more of a pity handout than I've already taken."
"Darlin," he sighs, shaking his head at you. "I would have even given you the Hangman special. Which is a deal, bargain, and steal. Comes with a kiss that's guaranteed to impress friends, people who cheated with your atrocious ex, everyone in this bar, and has even been known to, on occasion, inspire a standing ovation."
"Ha.Ha. You're so funny," you say dryly, rolling your eyes.
"I am, thank you for noticing," Jake says. "However, I think you deserve that kind of kiss to prove a point to your friends over there."
"They didn't even think I would be able to make it over here to talk to you." You admit to him, glancing over at your friends again, a little displeased that they are still obviously observing your interaction.
"That them over there?" He asks, following the direction you're looking. You hum in acknowledgment. "Which one's the cheater?" He breathes, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, sending a shudder down your spine.
You describe Tassie a bit to him, finding yourself shifting closer into his embrace, enjoying how he is somehow able to help most of the chaotic bar disappear from your senses. It's hard to think about the noise or the increasing number of people starting to press in when Jake's touching you. When he picks out who she is, Jake grunts a little. He lowers his face and nearly kisses your neck over the pulse point. His hot breath tickles the spot, causing shivers again as he declares, "I don't see the appeal."
"Wish my ex felt that way," you sigh.
"Fuck him," Jake says with conviction. Drawing a bit back from you to make eye contact again. His green eyes are clear, and in the dimmed mood light around you, they seem to shine even brighter than usual.
"You sure you don't mind me having kissed you to prove a point?"
"My dear," he laughs like you told him a funny joke. "I can't imagine a situation where I would mind you kissing me. Let alone one where I get to help you out."
Sliding your hand up his chest to casually rest on his shoulder, you wonder, "Is the Hangman Special still available?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Guaranteed to be wowing?" You check.
"Got a warranty for you and everything," Jake says lowly.
Your hand curls around Jake's neck again, and you attempt to tug him closer to you. He doesn't even budge, though. One of his hands slowly traces up your side from your waist until he is cupping your cheek. Then Jake leans close, his breath ghosting over your lips, where he lingers for a moment. Your eyes flutter closed, and as soon as they do, his lips press to yours. This time, it's not a quick peck.
He is slow and deliberate in how he kisses you. Tilting his head to the side to get a slightly better angle, Jake uses his hand on your face to urge your lips to align better with his. Pliable to his touch, you open your mouth to him, seeking even more, and rewarded when Jake's tongue brushes against your own. You never doubted that Jake would be a good kisser, but knowing firsthand is something you know you won't be able to erase from your memory. When the kiss starts to border on indecent, he pulls away.
You linger in the moment, keeping your eyes closed until your heart doesn't feel like it's going to burst from your chest. While you are in that limbo spot, his thumb slowly strokes your cheekbone. Sea glass green is the first thing you see when opening them again, Jake not making any effort to veil how he is admiring you. His lips are slightly pinker now than they just were, and you can't help but imagine how pink and swollen they would get if you had the opportunity to get this man alone on a couch.
Just as you consider requesting that he kiss you again, just to really really solidify how good you are to your friends, because obviously, three kisses are much better than the one they dared you to get, you are suddenly bumped from behind. The motion roughly shoves you against Jake's solid chest. Both his hands automatically return to your waist, tightening as he steadies you there. Glaring over your shoulder at whoever bumped you, he asks, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm okay," you breathe. Being this close to him, the woodsy scent of his cologne tickles your nose. And you suddenly wonder why exactly he is in this upscale cocktail bar dressed so nicely.
"I'm glad you decided to kiss me and not any of these other assholes," he mutters darkly, still glaring over your shoulder.
"Well, it wasn't really a choice." You reveal, which has his eyes snapping back to you in an instant and a frown pulling at his lips. One of his thumbs that's resumed making circles on your waist stops, and the other falls off your waist entirely now. He doesn't move otherwise, but his presence feels less consuming. Tersely, he responds, "I see."
"I may have skewed the odds. Told my friends to pick the hottest man they could find. What would you know? They picked you." You explain quickly.
"That's some good luck on your part."
"It wasn't luck, not really."
"How do you mean?" He wonders.
"I knew they would pick you."
"What made you so confident?"
"Because, Jake, you are, hands down, the most attractive person here," you reveal to him shyly. Your fingers curling into his silky shirt, where they have found themselves on his chest after being pushed.
"See now, I don't think that's true," he says, his eyebrows pulling together. The frown is gone though, the edges of his lips quirking up again.
"Oh please, Jake. Do not pretend you don't know how handsome you are."
"I'm aware. However, that doesn't change the fact that you're the most attractive person in this bar tonight."
"You're a flirt," you accuse him.
"I am," he agrees with no argument. "But that don't make me dishonest or mean I'm not genuine. I haven't been flirting with you just for the sake of it."
Warmth blooms in your center at his words, and you nearly forget all about trying to escape away from him. Right now, you just want to get closer, as close as he will let you. However, you are pulled out of the fantasy when you look away from Jake's intense gaze to see your friends and how most of the table seems shocked and scandalized. Wryly, you notice Cece giving you two thumbs up. It's like you could almost forget that this was just him being flirty and imagine he was kissing you for more than just helping prove a point. "Well, I appreciate your help with the Hangman Special. I know they will all be impressed and jealous when I head back over there."
"Now, wait a moment. You can't just sneak away. The Hangman Special not only comes with mind-blowing kisses but also a free night out, all expenses paid, and dinner at any restaurant you choose. "
"You just give that away to any random person who asks?"
"No, only the pretty ones I've had my eye on for a long while," Jake says, his eyes intense, the hand still on your waist flexing tighter for a moment.
"You have?" You ask, completely surprised.
"Yes, Ma'am," he replies with no hesitation. Before you can respond, the bartender finally makes his way over to you two, asking for your order. Jake instantly defers to you before ordering, asking, "What do you want, my dear?"
"I thought I already told you I'm taking one of the Hangman specials." You say, after taking a moment to think it over. The grin that lights up Jake's face is sunny and bright, and if you weren't being supported by his strong body, you would have probably fallen over swooning.
Turning back to the bartender, Jake requests two bottles of water and both of your tabs. As you peek over his shoulder while he signs, you see the bill consists of just one beer, the water, and the two drinks you've had tonight.
"So you want the full experience?" He asks you when you've taken a sip of water, and he has downed half of his in the same time.
"From what I know about you, Jake, I don't think you're someone who does things by halves," you answer, fiddling with one of the buttons on his silky green shirt. Then you are pushing a bit on his chest, trying to step away. When you do, Jake's hands find themselves on your hips again pulling you closer to him.
"Where you going?" He pouts.
"I just need to grab my purse."
"Whatcha you need your purse for, sweetheart? Don't you know I ain't going to let you pay for nothing?" Jake drawls.
"I'm sure you want that to come off gentlemanly, but you're close to flirting with misogynistic." You say, playfully poking a finger into his chest.
"No." Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips, Jake brushes a kiss on your pulse point, saying, "I know exactly who I'm flirting with, and that is you, my dear."
The laugh you let out is slightly involuntary, but it makes Jake look like he won a prize, so you can't be too displeased, especially not when he has resumed drawing circles on your skin, and it feels like some sort of hypnosis you never want to end. "I'll be right back, and you can keep flirting with me for as long as you like."
"That a promise?" Jake asks.
"Sure thing," you agree, but Jake still hasn't let go of you.
"Do you want some company?"
"You don't have to."
"Little worried you're going to try and sneak away," he admits.
"But Jake, I am sneaking away," you say in a fake whisper as if sharing a secret. "Sneaking away with you from my friends and this bar." It makes him smile again, just like you were hoping it would. "Just wait here for me. Okay?"
"Okay," he reluctantly agrees. Despite agreeing, the hold he has on your hand actually slightly tightens. "One more kiss?"
"I'm starting to get the feeling that you're always going to want one more kiss."
"You already know me so well," Jake grins. You press your lips against his again in a quick kiss, careful not to get caught up in it, before slipping out of his grasp. When free, you practically skip away from Jake to grab your things.
Arriving back to your friends, you're greeted with loud whooping and even some clapping thrown in. Cece is practically giggling as she says, "I really didn't think you had that in you."
"What were you talking about for so long?" Another one of the group asks.
"Was that kiss as hot as he is?" Someone else wonders, and then questions are coming from every direction before you can answer any of them.
"It was great, he's great." You manage to get in. When they start to flood you with even more questions, you cut them off. "I would love to talk all about it, but I'm sorry y'all, I'm actually just over here to grab my purse."
"There is no way you are leaving with that guy," Tassie says incredulously.
Irritation and anger flares up in you as you turn to glare at her. "Really, there's no way? And why would that be Tassie?"
"Come on," she says, clearly surprised that you've decided to call her out. "You're just not the kind of person to go home with someone from the bar, and he doesn't really seem like your type."
"I don't know how tall, handsome, funny, and phenomenal kisser could not be someone's type," You say harshly, snatching your purse and jacket from where you had been sitting.
"I'm just trying to look out for you," she responds sharply.
"I don't think that's true," you snap back.
"Hey now, why don't we all chill out," your friend Marv cuts in placatingly.
"Sorry to interrupt," a familiar southern drawl says from behind as a warm arm wraps around your shoulder. You nearly sag into Jake. The urge to explode on your friends, more specifically Tassie, instantly absorbed by his presence. "But I was promised I could take this one out on a date tonight."
"We can't let our friend just leave with a stranger," Cece says, and you turn to narrow your eyes at her, frowning that she is butting in when she is the one who set all this into motion in the first place.
"While I respect that, I don't think you get to make that decision," Jake says lightly and a lot nicer than you would have in that moment.
"You could be a crazy serial killer or something," Tassie says.
"While I am a killer, that's normally just how people describe me in bed," he answers in a flirty, exaggerated way. That has you nearly coughing, you suck in air so hard. He gently pats your back and continues on. "If you're really worried though, you can look me up on Instagram. That's at LT.H_ANGM_N. I hope y'all have a good night. I know we will be," Jake punctuates the sentence with a kiss to the side of your head.
Stuck between laughing and balking you glance around at everyone’s surprised faces at Jake’s boldness. You know exactly what Jake's last Instagram post was, having spent several minutes the other day debating whether you should like the shirtless picture of him on the beach.
"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Jake asks you, practically muttering the words in your ear. All he needs is your nod before he confidently starts to turn you and lead you out the door. You manage to throw your friends a small wave goodbye, but it only takes a few steps for them to be out of your mind.
"Did you drive?" Jake asks you as the fresh evening air rushes over you both.
"No.” And you’re glad you didn’t when it means Hangman will be driving you home.
"Good," he grins, "do you mind me driving?"
"I don't," you answer easily, completely content to follow Jake to wherever he is going to lead you.
He stops in front of a Jeep Gladiator, and you aren't overly surprised by his taste in vehicles. He goes to open the passenger side door for you, but you don't immediately take his offered hand to get inside. Instead, you tug it as you lean against the side of the truck. Jake follows the motion easily, not hesitating to bend down and mold his lips to yours.
Jake looms over you, one of his hands balancing his weight against the side of the truck just over your head. The other on your side pulling you a bit closer to him. Looping your arm around his neck for some leverage, you let Jake take over your senses. The softness of his tongue paired with how he nibbles at your lower lip pulls a little whine from you.
When you have to pull away for a ragged breath, Jake groans low in his throat as you press teasing kisses down the column of his neck to the V of skin his shirt shows off. The hand on your waist slides up to cup your cheek and pulls you back to his lips. Kissing Jake is easy, he doesn't leave enough room for you to question if he's enjoying it. Nor do you have the capacity to overthink it as Jake's lips move surely and confidently with your own. All there is is him, his warm strong body, soft lips, and the calluses of his fingers.
Leaning backward, you pull Jake with you wanting to have him pressed flush because even though you're tasting him, caged in, surrounded by him it still isn't close enough. However, the motion presses one of the Jeep’s jutting door hinges sharply into your back. You can't help but gasp a small "ow" as you try to shift. Concern creases Jake's features, and he pulls you away from his truck into his chest, glowering at the vehicle as if it had somehow betrayed him.
"You okay, darlin?" He asks, his hands tracing down your back checking for injury. You lean more into his chest even though you don't really need the support, it's just nice to be in his arms.
"I'm fine," you reassure him.
"Let's get you out of harms way." He says pulling open the passenger side door. As you start to heave yourself into the tall truck Jake is practically picking you up and easily setting you in the seat. You blink at him in surprise at his show of strength. He remains there, standing in the open door, leaning closer and placing his hand just above your knee, his thumb drawing circles there. Then he asks, "So, where would you like to grab some dinner, my dear?"
"I've heard of this really great restaurant I've been dying to go to."
"Yeah? Let's make it happen then."
"Mhmm," you hum in confirmation. "It's called Hangman's House."
Jake's thumb immediately stops moving and the smile on his face seems to shift. The genuine glint there slipping away, to something hard for you to really identify, practiced or guarded. Whatever the change was you don't find yourself liking it and immediately wonder where you misstepped.
"So, Hangman's House, that's a pretty exclusive place. They don't usually do unplanned reservations," Jake says after what's nearly an awkward silence.
"That's too bad. I heard that they have great service." You say a little dejected but glad he told you no in a casual manner that you can play off.
"You're in luck though, my dear, because I know the owner. I think he would be willing to make an exception for us sometime, but they are better known for their breakfast menu." Jake responds upbeat again.
"I like breakfast." You mutter in what you think is a flirty way. However, it's obvious that you've missed the mark when Jake's hand drops off your leg completely now.
"Listen, if this is just a one-night thing, just some making out and fun stuff, where you are going to leave in the morning and pretend it never happened next time we see each other," he says seriously. Pausing, he runs a hand through his hair taking a measured breath, and you watch as the muscle in his jaw flexes. "That's fine, but I need to know it now."
As you study his face intently it occurs to you that maybe even men like Jake Seresin have insecurities. Maybe he was used to interacting with people where more often than not they only saw him as a handsome face with a nice body. People who were ready to leave the next morning. The realization that a one night stand isn’t the series of events he is interested in with regards to you twists a pit of uncertainty in your stomach. You feel a little uneasy not sure exactly where you stand or what he wants with you.
Reaching to catch Jake's lost hand and tangling your fingers, you start playing with the big class ring he is wearing. He allows the movement and relaxes his hand further, giving you additional leeway. The distraction of Jake's fingers gives you the courage to say, "I guess maybe I misunderstood that this was going to just be a nice fun night with you. Is that not what you were looking for?"
"I do want that," Jake says adamantly. " However, I don't just want that."
"What do you mean?"
"I want to bring you flowers, dance with you, write you love letters. I want to explore every inch of your body and heart until I know what makes you tick. I want you to forget that any other man besides me even exists." Jake presses himself close to you again, and he turns his hand to thread your fingers tightly together. "Now I'm good, and I mean really good my dear, but those aren't goals I can make happen in one evening. So I want to start with tonight, taking you out and giving you a good time. And then I want to do the same thing tomorrow or whenever you have free time. I want to do that for as long as you will let me."
"Oh wow," you breathe, taken aback by his declaration. "That's kind of a lot."
"I know, but I don't want my intentions to be unclear. I wasn't lying when I said I've had my eye on you for a while. I'm happy to go at whatever pace you need; I'll do whatever you want. However, if this was all just getting back at your ex and proving a point. If you can't see yourself wanting anything more with me past tonight again, I need to know." Now, Jake takes his turn playing with your fingers as he breaks eye contact to stare at where you're intertwined. "I'll happily let you break my heart, but I don't want to be blindsided by it.
Surging forward, you pull Jake in to kiss you again. It's an awkward angle, and the way the truck makes you taller than him feels odd. However, none of that matters when his lips are so pliable against yours.
"I don't want to break your heart," you tell him between kisses. "I want to go on dates with you, and I want to go home with you. I want to go to bed with you and do it more than once if we find out we are compatible."
"Are you doubting our compatibility?" Jake asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Not really, but you know it's better to make sure with these things. Have to double check, I think."
"That makes sense," he concedes.
"Now let's get some food so you can take me home and then to bed. Show me these killer skills you mentioned earlier."
"We can do a lot tonight, but we can't sleep together," Jake says mournfully.
"Why not?" You ask confused.
"Everyone knows you don't sleep together until the third date," Jake drawls.
"That's a cliche. Plus, why does it really matter?"
"Because I've been dreaming about forever with you, and when you want forever with someone, you don't want to skip any steps." Jake answers, dead serious and earnestly. It makes you wish you weren't in such an awkward position in the truck. If you were still outside pressed against it, or in the bar even, it would be so much easier to show him the appreciation and affection burning inside.
"We've got to be somewhere near the third date by now. We have tonight and that camping trip we went on. Oh, and that one time that everyone went bowling. Plus, there was that bonfire a few months ago!" You say, trying to think of occasions you and Jake had spent a good amount of time together. While considering it, you also realize he has nearly always gravitated to your side during group interactions, and going off tonight, that clearly wasn't as coincidental as you had previously thought.
"You deserve real dates," Jake responds with conviction, and the look in his eye really isn't something you can or even want to argue with. There isn't anything wrong with someone wanting to act like a gentleman with you; it's actually flattering, especially when it's clear Jake isn't going to play any guessing games with you concerning his feelings.
"Well, then we are wasting time when we could be on our first date," you say, pressing another peck to his lips and lightly pushing him away from you.
"One last kiss," Jake whispers as he lurches close again for another peck. Then, he gently closes your door and jogs over to the driver's seat, asking where you want to get a bite to eat.
The two of you end up at a fancy Italian restaurant where you share an appetizer, bottle of wine, and dessert. During dessert, Jake insists you pose for a picture. Despite your initial resistance, he convinces you, and then, nearly as soon as he takes it, your phone lights up with a notification telling you that you’ve tagged you in his story. He tells you before you even ask that he hopes your friends looked him up on Instagram but requests that you repost it on your own just in case they didn't. He claimed it's so they know he's not kidnapped you, but you suspect that it's more likely he wants to prove a point. And it's something you don't mind one bit, especially when he easily lets you post a picture of him on your own story.
After the restaurant, Jake drives you both out of town a bit to where the sky is much clearer and the stars are visible. The evening isn't warm enough to cuddle in the truck bed like he wanted, so instead, you end up in the backseat with the moon roof completely rolled back. You manage to pretend to be looking at the stars for about three whole minutes before crawlingl into Jake's lap to kiss him.
Before the making out can get too heated, Jake grips your chin, urging your face upwards to look through the moonroof. Gruffly, he mutters into your ear, telling you to behave. Words that only make you squirm in your newfound place sitting on his lap. He lets you stay there, though, his hands steady on your hips, and his lips leisurely brushing yours or your neck whenever inspiration strikes.
"What were you doing out tonight looking so nice?" You wonder absentmindedly, unbuttoning the top button of Jake's shirt. It's not with an ulterior motive. Really, it's because Jake's shirt is so soft, and the top of it is hiding his dog tags from you, which you have suddenly decided is unacceptable. The new skin exposed to you is just an added benefit.
"Ah, nothing to worry about darlin'."
"Common, you can tell me," you say, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
"You know, whinnies?"
It takes you a moment to place the restaurant and remember that it's across the street from the bar where you met up with your friends. "The wine bar?"
"Yeah," Jake confirms. "Well, I was on a date there."
"Oh." When Jake doesn't say anything, you decide you have to push the conversation forward. "So, what happened to your date? Were they not nice?"
"No, she was real sweet," Jake says, and you feel your stomach drop as if you aren't in the back of his truck and sitting in his lap right now.
"So why did you end up at Gem's?"
"I was checking Instagram before she got there, and I saw you post that you were at Gems, right across the street. And no matter how nice she was, I knew it wasn't fair that I was thinking of a different person the whole time. So, we didn't even make it through appetizers before I had to be honest with her about that, and then I swung by Gems, hoping I would bump into you."
"You were at the bar just to see me?"
"Sure was. So imagine my surprise when you found and approached me first."
"How would it have gone if you had approached me first?" You wonder.
"For one, I would have offered to buy you a drink before stealing a kiss," Jake says teasingly.
"You're not going to let that go, are you?"
"Probably not for a while," he tells you. You groan and hide your face in his neck as if that will save you from some of the embarrassment. Feeling his chuckles in his throat and rumble in his chest is soothing, and you pepper more kisses to his neck and collarbone as if you were tracing the sound.
"You wouldn't have left without a kiss, though?"
"I wouldn't have left without seeing you, and I would have done everything to try and convince you to give me one," Jake promises.
"How would you have kissed me for the first time?"
"Are you asking for another demonstration?" he wonders. As soon as you nod in affirmation, he pulls you close, repositioning you on his lap so you're straddling him. The darkness of the truck makes it so you can't quite see how green his eyes are, despite that they are still somehow bright. He holds eye contact with you for a long moment. His hand cups your cheek, and like earlier in the night, he pauses, not closing the gap, observing you close. When you try to lean forward and seal your lips, he backs his head away. Then he chastises you while wearing a smirk, "I'm goin' to kiss you, baby. Now, let me do it how I want."
Anticipation tingles in you as Jake leans close; however, at the last minute, he swerves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then the other cheek, your forehead, and your nose. Finally, his lips meet yours firmly. Closing your eyes, you sigh into the kiss. The feeling of being intimately connected to Jake again is nearly the same as relief. When your mouth opens, Jake licks into you, searching out your tongue with his own.
There no longer seems to be any will in Jake to tamper down the heat of your kissing. He allows you each time you push the envelope of the moment being just the soft sweet first date kissing he initially claimed to want. As he sucks on the sweet spot, her discovers on your neck, the way you grind downwards is involuntary and completely by accident. A low moan comes from Jake, and you like the way it sounds. So, the next time you grind down on him, it's completely intentional.
The dark slacks he is wearing don't do much to conceal his hardened length. After a few more rolls of your hips, Jake's hands tightly grip your waist helping you grind against him. He urges you into a rhythm that has whimpers, moans, and gasps passing from both your mouths between hot kisses. As you try to speed up, frantic lust beating so loud you can hear it in your ear, he doesn't let you. Though you are on top of him, there is no doubt that Jake is in complete control.
Just from this night, it's not difficult to imagine how he will be in the bedroom. Strong, consuming, and in control. You can picture how he will confidently lead you exactly where you want to go, and you will get there because just a back of the car's make-out shouldn’t cause someone to be as turned on as you are right now. You unbutton his shirt and let your hands roam over his chest. Dragging your nails along his abs causes a full body shudder and Jake to grip your ass so hard you think you might bruise. It doesn't bother you, though, because how can anything that gets you closer to his cock be a bad thing?
“Jake,” you say in a sudden moment of clarity. He hums his acknowledgment but keeps kissing at your neck and squeezing at your ass. A particularly hard thrust upwards from him nearly has your brain going fuzzy as you desperately try to hold yourself together. “Jake,” you repeat more forcefully, “we need to stop.”
“What’s wrong?” He asks concerned, detaching his lips from your skin and losing his hold so he is barely touching you.
“If we keep at this I'm going to beg you to fuck me right here right now,” you answer. He makes a strangled groan. With his swollen lips, lust filled eyes, and hard dick you're sure he wouldn't actually mind. “Which would be amazing but you told me about a three date rule and I agreed.”
“I did say three dates,” he responds and looks like he hates himself for it.
“But if it doesn't actually matter I would like to suck your cock at least once before we fuck.” You boldly tell him, twisting his dog tags in your fingers pulling them taut against Jake’s neck until the release beads give away. The chain falls into your grasp, and you use the warm metal to distract yourself.
“Fuck me,” he breathes throwing an arm over his eyes and leaning back. “You're perfect, you know that?”
“I'm not.”
“You are. So perfect, so hot.” He kisses you like he's about to ignore what you just said. Hot and a little sloppy with tongue and a bit at your lower lip. When he pulls away he rests his forehead against yours saying, “We are going to stop now because I don't want there to ever be a doubt in your mind that I'll keep the promises I make to you.”
Your stomach flips with affection, and you sag, leaning heavily into Jake, just hugging him tightly, waiting for the lust that's sparked to cool. The two of you even manage to get some actual stargazing in where hands roam but in more so in an exploratory way than sexual.
Holding hands driving back into the city you can’t stop staring at Jake’s profile, or admiring his fingers or tracing the veins of his forearms. You are focusing on trying to convince yourself that this isn’t a dream, you're definitely going to wake up with hickies in the morning, and another date with Jake Seresin scheduled tomorrow. It’s something that if you had been told at the start of your evening, you would have laughed at the absurdity of the idea.
"I know it's really soon, but do you think that if you asked me again in a few weeks if I'm still single, we'll be able to change my answer?" Jake asks you after a bit breaking the comfortable silence you two had been in.
"I think that's possible. What do you think about that?" You wonder.
"I would change my answer tonight if you wanted me to."
"Jake..."
"Listen, I really like you, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. So as soon as you give me the okay, I will bring you flowers with a promise ring and ask if you want to go steady with me." Jake's thumb rubs along your pulse affectionately, "I'll change my Facebook relationship status. I'll get a nice little charm with your name on it for my dog tags. I'll take you to meet my friends and brag about how amazing you are." Jake leans over at a red light to press a soft kiss to your lips. "The whole shebang."
"That sounds nice. Does that deal have a special name, too?"
"Yeah, we can call it the Jake special. It is a whole package, long-term, all-inclusive deal."
"Extended warranty?" You check jokingly.
"It actually has a no-return, no-refund policy," Jake answers.
"That's a pretty big commitment," you whisper back, even though the idea of keeping Jake all to yourself sounds nothing but appealing.
"It's not something that expires. So how about tonight, we just worry about getting you home where you're going to let me walk you to your front door and give you a kiss goodnight."
"Just one kiss?" You ask in a pretend pout.
"Let's shoot for two, but don't be surprised if it's three, maybe even four."
"I want five," you declare stubbornly.
"Then I'll give you six," he easily offers.
You try to hide your smile but don't quite manage it. It's a permanent fixture the whole drive home and during all seven of the goodnight kisses you get. They aren't the best kisses in the world because Jake is smiling through them, too. It's okay, though, because you both know there's going to be more in the future, a lot more.
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mic'd up for aces v fever/ k.martin
kate martin x reader!
summary: you're mic'd up at the Aces game versus the Indiana Fever as your girlfriend plays her (and your) best friend.
!𝑨𝑩𝑩𝒀 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑺¡
okay okay my first wbb fic on here (lol pls be nice)
also, this is my first ever y/n fic so...
Two days before the Aces were set to play the Fever, you were sent an email from the Aces media team. Kate had been sitting behind you as you opened it, laughing immediately at their request. They were practically begging you to be mic’d up at the game, courtside. They wanted you of course, due to your connection as a Hawkeye, deciding to come back for a fifth year instead of entering the draft as you were going for your masters. It also helped that their star rookie was your girlfriend.
It was an easy decision. You told them, yes, ignoring the teasing from your girlfriend as you did so. Honestly, it seemed like a great idea to you, getting to commentate on your girlfriend and your best friend as they went head to head for the first time as pros.
“Baby, you realize this is the perfect opportunity for me to embarrass the hell out of you and Cinamon?” Kate got quiet real fast after that threat.
🂡🂡🂡
The day of the game had arrived, and you decided to go with Kate to the lab, as it was a home game for the Aces. As soon as you arrived the team swarmed upon you, laughing and asking for you to add in specific commentary tonight during the game.
“No Syd I will not tell everyone you’re single and ready to mingle,” you playfully shove the older woman, laughing with everyone else as she starts to fake cry. “Go away you baby, I gotta go get mic’d.”
They all began to hype you up as the media crew came over with a little clip-on mic and pac. You listened intently as they walked you through how it would work tonight. You’d be seated right next to your coaches, and former coach Lisa Bluder, and would have the mic the whole game. You couldn’t be more excited as you knew this would give your girlfriend even more publicity and love from the media and fans.
You turned to her as she grabbed your hand.
“I’ll see you in a bit when we head over to Michalaub,” she leaned in, connecting your lips, leaving you wanting just a little bit more.
🂡🂡🂡
The media team had your mic on as you and Kate made your way into the arena for pre-game shoot-outs. The Fever was already there practicing and you giggled to yourself as you saw Caitlin stretching.
“Hey guys!” You turned to the cameras, “My name is y/n l/n, some of you may know me as number 26 for the Iowa Hawkeyes, and my favorite title, Kate Martin’s girlfriend!”
The entire team started laughing as you introduced yourself and you turned around to shush them. Cait couldn’t know you were mic’d up yet. It had to be a surprise.
“Anyways, I’m going to be mic’d up courtside tonight at the game versus the Fever. But for now, I have a reunion to get to.” You winked at the camera, spinning on your heel and cupping a hand to your mouth.
“Hey, Cinamon!” Her head whipped around from where she was standing with your girlfriend, the two of them having had their reunion.
“Tink?” Her eyes went wide with disbelief, she’d known you’d be at the game but had no idea you’d be at shoot around.
The pair of you collided, and she spun you around the same way Kate had done to her. Tears immediately pooled in your eyes at the contact. You and Caitlin had been friends for years, both of you meeting when you played for USA in 2018. You both committed to Iowa and roomed together Freshman year, she was the sister you’d always wanted, and it had been painful to be away from her.
“How are you?” You whispered, being mindful of the fact that you were mic’d up.
“I’m fine,” she smiled at you, repeating what she’d said to Kate, and you knew she’d also seen through the bs answer, but you let it go.
“I’m all mic’d up tonight,” you grinned, pointing at the mic on your shirt, “Kmart’s scared I’ll embarrass her.”
“Hey, I never said that!” Kate butted into the conversation, “She’s lying CC.”
“You calling me a liar right now?” You raised an eyebrow, eyes glancing down at the mic on your chest.
Kate folded immediately, “No Baby, I would never.”
You and Caitlin look at each other before bursting out into laughter. Some things never change.
🂡🂡🂡
“Hello, Las Vegas!” You had a cameraman pointed at you from next to one of the hoops, the media crew had told you they had a few different angles on you, all connected to your mic. “I’m here with some of my favorite women!”
You wrapped an arm around your former head coach as she laughed, wrapping her own arm around your shoulders.
“Hey Tink,” she pressed a kiss to the side of your head. She’d been the one to give you your on-court nickname. It started as ‘Tinkerbell’ because you would flit around the court like you were flying while playing defense, and the team eventually just shortened it to ‘Tink’.
“Hey, coach! You excited for tonight?” You pulled on your shirt so she could talk into the mic.
“Very excited, it’s going to be weird not yelling at Kate and Caitlin, but I guess I’ll manage.” You and Coach Jan erupted into laughter, and so did Coach Hammon who was listening in with a smirk.
“I’m also joined by my new head coach!” You positioned your body to face Jan, grinning at her.
“You excited to see our girls play?”
“Of course I am! I’ve got my phone ready to take all the behind-the-scenes pictures and videos.”
“Me too!” You grin, “I can’t wait to hit Caitlin and Katie with the evil 0.5s.”
You hear the whistle blow, and watch everyone come out onto the floor.
“There’s Cinamon!” Your eyes find Caitlin and she sends you a grin. “Look at her, my sister from another mister.”
You watch as the Aces get possession of the ball, eyes following Caitlin as she defends Kelsey. Moving down the court you can’t help but laugh as you watch Jackie attempting to guard her.
“Jackie’s in for a challenge, CC is hard as hell- oh shit- wait fuck- no sorry, am I allowed to swear? Whatever, Cait’s hard to guard. She’s knocked me on my ass -sorry- a few too many times.”
“Let’s go!” You stand up as Jackie drains the three, smirking at Cait as she runs past you.
“Cait that's not your basket.” You laugh as she shoots after Kelsey gets a foul.
Cait turns the ball over and you share a look with Coach Bluder, this has been a problem since you were Freshmen. Caitlin just sees the game differently and is six steps ahead of everyone else. It was you and Kate who were able to keep up with her pace, which is what made you so unstoppable on the court. It would take time for the Fever to match what she was putting down.
“Come on Cait, shake it off.” You watch as she misses a three, shaking your head, “she's gonna be pissed about that.”
Your eyes flit away from the game and onto the figure of your girlfriend as she sits on the bench, eyes fixed on Caitlin and the game.
“Kmoney is locked in everyone, she’s got her serious face on.”
Caitlin fouls and you let out an audible “oh shit” before apologizing into your mic again.
“Cait never loses the ball like that- oh she got it back!”
Your eyes flick between the bench and the court, waiting for the moment Kate takes off her warmups.
“A’ja’s going to have a nasty bruise from that.” You watch her get popped in the face, the entire crowd going crazy over it.
“Guys I’m just sitting here waiting for my girlfriend to go in,” you smile at one of the cameras pointed at you, before pointing at the jersey you’re wearing with Kate’s number on it.
“I'm repping 20 for a reason. Ooo that sounds like the Sabrina Carpenter song ‘Pushing 20’,” you start humming the song. “Kate when you watch this, that should be your theme song.”
“LET’S GO!” You jump up from your seat as Caitlin drains her first three of the night, holding up three fingers at her. “That’s my best friend!” You side-eye your girlfriend who’s looking at you with a raised eyebrow “Sorry Katie. You’re still number one in my heart.”
“Okay CC’s on the bench guys, geez she looks wiped already, girl needs some sleep.”
“Okay, Megan’s getting ready to check in, a win for the Hawkeyes tonight.” You high-five her as she passes you. “Guys I never played with Megan, but she was a legend when CC and I came in as Rookies.”
Your girlfriend comes running towards you, “Yes Baby!” You catch her warmup shirt that she tosses aside slapping her ass as she passes.
“My girl is so fine,” you’ve completely forgotten your coaches are sitting next to you until Julie reaches over.
“Hey, that’s still my niece Tink!”
“Sorry, Julie!” Caitlin also gets up to check in, squatting down right next to Kate. You watch them exchange smirks, knowing they’ll be guarding each other. “Here we go, Coach!”
You nudge Coach Bluder who looks a bit teary-eyed herself.
“Shit Kelsey,” you catch the ball that bounces out of bounds keeping KP from falling on you.
“Sorry y/n,” she grins before locking back into the game.
The buzzer goes and you stand up as Kate and Caitlin check into the game together, “That’s my girl!”
“Guys I might start crying and that’s embarrassing.” You say as you sit back down, eyes filling up with tears. “It’s weird seeing them in different colors, and sitting on the side instead of being on the floor with them.”
“Sorry guys you might have to cut this,” you stifle a small sob as you watch them defend each other. It was one thing talking about it, and making jokes, but seeing it happen, and not playing yourself was a whole other thing that had your throat tightening.
“I’m filming!” Jan says, making you let out a choked laugh. You push back the tears, telling yourself to be happy that they’re both living out their dreams.
You pull out your phone, taking a few photos and videos of your girl and her best friend as they guard each other for the first time outside of carver-hawkeye.
They’re both trying to play it cool, but the smile on their faces as they sprint down the court towards you tells a different story.
“CC and Kmart together again.” You point to Cait who points back giving you a grin.
“All that’s missing is their Tink.” Coach Bluder says, patting your knee.
“Look at my girl go!” You grin, pointing at Kate who grabbed the ball in the turnover, making her way down the court.
“How is that not Aces Ball!?” You’re just as pissed as your girlfriend, who’s gotten good at challenging ref’s over the years. “She’s going to complain about that to me later guys,” you whisper into the mic.
“Okay guys, the first quarter is over. We had our on-court reunion with my favorite Hawkeyes. How are we feeling, because I’m emotional.” You’re having a one-sided conversation with yourself as Coach Bluder gets up to go sit with the commentators for the second quarter.
“Guys she’s starting in the second quarter! My girl is a pro now!”
“I’m never letting that go CC,” you say as you watch her basically throw the ball out of bounds.
“Look at her, I’m literally the luckiest girl in the world.”
“Cait just missed that three and it landed in Katie’s hands, once upon a time that would have ended up as an assist.”
Your eyes widen as you watch Kate go down, her knee at a weird angle, your heart in your throat. “That better not be a bad fall.” You say to Jan, “Thank God.” You mutter as she gets up, sprinting down the court.
“Oh shit, that looked like it hurt,” all respect for your language went out the window the moment Kate fell. You were fired up, the worry for your girlfriend at the max. Even as you watched Cait get smacked in the eye.
“Cinamon shoots two.” She drains the first, “nice CC,” drains the second, “easy money.”
“Good job Baby,” Kate smiles at you, hand grazing your leg as she walks back to the bench.
“Syd babes that was a flop.” You laugh watching her go down.
“Get some Money!” Kate runs past you again to check-in. “Katie in, CC out.”
“Shit Kate!” Your hand flys to your mouth as you watch her ankle go, and the limp-hop she does after. “That is not good guys. She shook it off pretty good, but I can tell when my girl is in pain.”
Kate goes down again, and you can’t help but clench your teeth as you hear the skid of her thigh on the court. “Come on baby, shake it off.” She gets up slower this time, you can tell it’s wearing on her, but she's pushing through.
“Yes, Money Martin with the assist!”
“Jesus Christ, is it throw y/n’s girlfriend to the ground day or something?” Kate goes down yet again, this time a foul is called, thankfully. A’ja runs to pull her up and you grin, “Look at A’ja helping my girl out like the good vet she is.”
You turn your head to look over at Caitlin who has her face buried in her towel, only her eyes showing, and you know it’s her way of keeping her eyes on the game without revealing anything. But you can see worry in the crease between her eyebrows, you’re both not liking the ground time Kate’s been getting.
Kate walks past you as she comes in for the time-out. She sends you a nod, letting you know she’s okay.
“Okay guys, sorry for the lack of comments, it’s been a bit tense here. Gotta make sure my girl is fine before I can be commentating.”
“You would make a terrible sports commentator,” Coach Bluder says, laughing at the put-out look on your face.
“Cooked by Bluder, everyone!” You hold your hand to your chest in mock hurt, “demolished by my coach. But alas, she’s right. I’d just be too busy talking about my girlfriend to be a good commentator.”
Coach leans closer to you, “She’s censoring herself for you guys, these are tame compared to the comments she drops during Hawkeye practices and games.”
“Okay, enough mic time for you coach!”
“Look at her go bringing the ball up! My little pro.” You practically have heart eyes, and for the first time, you see yourself projected on the jumbotron.
“Oh okay, I see how it is,” You grin, finding the camera that’s projecting you, winking pointing to your jersey, then the court where Kate is.
The crowd goes insane, causing some of the players to look up, earning a laugh from Caitlin and a wink from Kate.
“I’m more popular than both of them combined.”
Kate comes back to the bench again and you squeeze her hand as she passes. She sends you a smile, finding her seat next to Megan again, both of you locking back into the game.
“Let's go! Halftime baby!” You stand from your seat. “See you guys after the break!”
🂡🂡🂡
“Okay everyone I’m back! Let's go! I have a feeling we’ll be getting some money this quarter.”
You turn to look at the empty seats around you. “Well, you may notice I am now awkwardly here alone. Coach Bluder and Coach Jenson are off socializing, so I’m left to man the fort.”
“I can’t believe they called that a foul,” you mutter, as Coach Hammon goes to challenge the foul a second time.
“My lover is back in the game, you guys.” You watch as Smith misses both foul shots.
“That was a waste of a foul.”
“MONEY!” You shout, jumping to your feet as Kate scores her first points of the day, draining a three with ease. “That’s my fucking girl! Let’s fucking go! We are so back!”
Kate points to you as she runs down the court, making a heart with her hands as you hold up three fingers.
“Get her babe!” Kate’s on Caitlin again, and your bias towards your girlfriend begins to show as she plays solid defense.
After A’ja’s fouled you can see Caitlin talking to the ref about Kate, you can’t make out what they’re saying, but it’s got Kate smirking.
“They’re talking mad shit to each other, I just know it,” you whisper into the mic. “I wonder how personal those insults are getting.”
“Baby’s gone beast mode,” you say as you watch Kate celebrating A’ja’s shot.
“Look at her cheesin’ isn’t she the cutest.” You watch Kate grin at whatever Caitlin says to her.
“Kmoney for the block!” You yell, “a fucking beast!”
You stand as she goes for the three, but it rims and falls out of the basket, “shake it off, baby! Plenty more buckets to make!”
“Quarter three is over guys, and my beautiful girlfriend has been burning up the court!”
“That’s my fucking girlfriend!” You stand throwing up three fingers as Kate drains her second three of the night. “Redemption baby!”
She points at you as she runs back down the court.
“Kmart is on fire right now guys!”
“That’s a fucking foul! Yeah, call that shit! It’s in Let’s fucking go!” You’re on your feet, ignoring the laughs from your coaches at your yelling, you’re saying everything you can’t say when you’re on the bench.
“My girl is the goat guys. She’s on fucking fire.”
Kate's eyes find yours, grinning when she sees you standing, clapping for her, a triumphant smile on your face.
“Drained it!” You watch her make the foul shot, clapping your hands together as you finally sit back down. The jumbotron is split between the two of you, one half showing you’re over the top reaction and the other replaying her basket.
Caitlin stands in front of you as she checks back into the game. “Let’s go CC,” you can’t see her face, but you can sense her little smirk.
“Y’all see the bruises on that girl’s arms? Geez, maybe I need to send her some arm guards for real.” Coach Bluder bursts out into laughter at that.
“Katie’s back on the bench guys, so my commentary will be limited as I will now spend this time admiring her.” Your coaches snort, as they know this is a very common occurrence for you. But you ignore them, eyes finding the tired ones of your girlfriend.
‘you okay?’ you mouth, looking at her intently.
She nods, ‘I’m good, love you.’
‘I love you too.’
Your eyes move back to the court, finding Caitlin’s very tired-looking figure. Her hands are on her knees and you just know she's done for the night. She spends more time in the game than on the bench, and it’s wearing on her. WNBA is way more physical and demanding compared to the NCAA, and Caitlin is getting the short end of the stick.
You pull out your phone, pulling up her contact.
‘cinnamon, if i don’t receive photo evidence of you resting over the next few days. i’ll fly to indiana and sit next to your bed while you sleep.’
You hit send, knowing she won’t see it until after the game, and that you could tell her in person, but this way she knows you were thinking about it during the game itself.
“CC is 100% done for the night guys, she’s tired.” You say as you watch her check out of the game and head to the bench.
“But my girl is back in playing the last few minutes of the game!”
The quarter moves on and your eyes intently follow Kate as she runs up and down the court. But you’re silent as you observe, too entranced with Kate to remember your mic’d. That is until she’s fouled again.
Your breath catches in your throat as you watch her knee go at a dangerous angle yet again as she goes for the three.
“You’re literally kidding!? Yeah, that’s another fucking whistle!” You watch her take a few stumbling steps before regaining her footing. “You got this Katie.”
“Three foul shots, if she makes just one, guys, she’ll go double digits for this game!”
“Get in there… YES!” You grin, clapping your hands together as you will the ball to go in.
“And she hits the second, that’s my fucking girlfriend!” You can hear A’ja laughing at you from the bench and you send her a look, getting a grin back in response.
“All three! Twelve points tonight for my girl!”
“And Aces win!” You jump up from your chair as the buzzer sounds. Your arms wrap around Coach Jensen as she stands up as well, both of you laughing with joy for Kate. You pull away, your eyes finding Caitlin on the floor, sending her a smile, asking with your gaze if she's okay. She nods at you, knowing you want to spend the next few minutes with Kate.
‘See you later?’ you mouth and she nods again.
“Kate was on fire tonight!” Jan exclaims, “Twelve points is incredible for her!”
“She was amazing,” you say as you see her heading back from the commentator stand. She jogs over to where you guys are, launching herself into your arms.
“Hi baby,” she says into your neck, hands around your waist.
“Hi lovebug,” you tighten your arms around her neck, “you played so well tonight.”
“Mmm,” she mutters, nose still pressed against your throat. “I need you at all my games now.”
“Every game this summer till training camp for Iowa, baby.” She pulls back, finally pressing her lips to yours, not a care in the world for whoever is around.
She pulls back, glancing down at the mic still attached to your shirt. “Alright guys, I hope you had fun listening to my amazing girlfriend’s commentary, but now I want her all to myself.”
Kate plucks the mic from your shirt, handing it off to one of her coaches before taking your hand and leading you towards the rest of your little ‘party’.
🂡🂡🂡
After the game, you meet up with Caitlin, pulling her into your arms, knowing how she beats herself up after a loss. She melts into your arms as if you’re sixteen again and living without a care in the world.
“You played good tonight cinnamon, don’t beat yourself up. You’re drained from your game in LA.”
“I know,” she mumbles, “it still sucks.”
You rub her shoulders, sending Kate a reassuring smile at the look of concern on her face. “It’ll get better CC, you just can’t let yourself burn out. You gotta take care of yourself.”
“I’m trying Tink. It’s hard. But I’m trying.”
“Call me whenever you get down, okay?” You pull back, looking her in the eyes. “I’m here for you, Katie’s here for you. We want you to be happy and enjoy yourself. So talk to us okay?”
“Okay.” She smiles, a mischievous look crossing her face, and you know what’s coming because you saw her do it to Kate and yelled at her for it.
“Don’t you fucking dare Clark!”
“Too late,” she smirks, hand connecting with your ass. You yelp shoving her away.
“Hey, woah woah, hands off Clark.” Kate pulls you into her arms, making sure you don’t step on her, as she’s not wearing shoes, again.
Cait puts her hands up, grinning. “Sorry Cap.” Kate makes a face, hand going down to wrap around your waist, keeping you at her side and away from Caitlin’s ass slaps.
The three of you were back together again, and you knew, somehow everything would be okay.
#kate martin x reader#kate martin x y/n#kate martin#wlw post#lgbtq#pride month#caitlin clark#lv aces#indiana fever#iowa wbb#wbb#fanfiction
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Slow Burn // Jimmy Uso x Reader
Author’s Note -> Hiiiii :) had this sitting in drafts so I decided to finish it… and I’m– 🤤. Will be working on more stuff in the coming days, so stay tuned! Also, my lovely friend @zyvngi made this clip and I just… yeah there was no way I wasn’t using it lol. As always, happy reading y’all!
Pairings -> Jimmy Uso x Fem!Reader
Warnings -> Fluff (if you squint), Cursing, Drug Use (Weed), P in V, Not Proofread, MDNI
Word Count -> 4.4k
You enter Jon’s house as you always did, swinging the door open without knocking and waltzing right inside– your body collapsing on his living room couch. Media had kicked your ass today, more than usual, and you were definitely feeling the effects of it. Jon happened to have a day off today, one that was hard to come by, especially with the work you two did at WWE– him being a talent and you a producer. That’s how the two of you met 4 years ago, and you’ve been inseparable ever since.
“Well, good afternoon to you too, princess.” Jon teases, as you shoot daggers at him.
“I don’t know how much more I can fuckin’ take. Paul’s driving me crazy, the work is endless, and absolutely nobody seems to appreciate how much work I’m putting into this to make shit happen every show. I’m about to fuckin’ lose it.” You groan, flopping down onto the couch and rubbing your eyes.
Jon leans against the island countertop, grinning, clearly amused by your frustration. “Sounds like you’ve had a day… wanna vent or just keep it low-key?”
You sigh dramatically, sitting up on the couch. “No, no, I should probably let it all out. I swear, I’ve been busting my ass, and every time I think I’m ahead, something else gets thrown on me. And everyone thinks I’m this superhero that can just fuckin’ fix it,” you pause, rubbing your temples. “I just want a break, but I feel like there’s no time to take one.”
He nods sympathetically, then walks over to the end table and pulls something from the drawer. “You really need to take a break though, you keep goin’ like that, you’re gonna burn yourself out.”
You laugh bitterly, half-glancing at him. “I know, I know. It’s like I don't even know how to take a break anymore. It’s always work, work, and more work.”
Jon takes out a joint from his pocket and lights it casually, raising an eyebrow at you. “You want some help with that?”
He takes a slow drag, exhaling slowly as you stare at him– shocked.
“You… smoke?”
He laughs, shrugging nonchalantly as he continues to puff on the joint. “Yeah, ‘s not somethin’ I bring up, but yeah, sometimes it helps me unwind. And you look like you could use a lil’ somethin’ to take the edge off.”
You stare at him in disbelief. “I just… I never thought you’d be the type to do… that.”
“What, smoke?” he chuckles. “Well, you never really asked. Trust me though, a little bit won’t hurt. It’s just us, Y/N. No work, no stress…” he grins, taking another drag then passing it to you.
You’re hesitant, but also curious. You take the joint from him, your voice getting soft.
“I don’t know… I’ve never done… this before.”
Jon smirks at you, sitting down and leaning back on the couch as he grabs another joint– one for himself. “First time for everything, right? No pressure, ma. Just take it slow.”
Nervously, you take a drag, coughing slightly. “Oh my god…”
He laughs softly, leaning closer to you and offering you a reassuring smile. “Yeah, it can be a bit much at first. Just breathe through it, you’ll get used to it.”
You exhale, giggling nervously and shaking your head. “Okay, okay, I’m definitely not used to it. But… this actually feels kinda nice.”
You’re growing more confident by the second, taking another drag. Jon watches you intently, a gentle smile on his face.
“That’s it, you’re doin’ great, ma. You deserve to feel nice, just let go of all that stress, you know?” he soothes you, his voice dropping lower than usual.

As the night goes on, you both start to relax, the conversation flowing more freely. The effects of the joint take hold, and the atmosphere shifts in a way that has allowed the two of you to open up in a way you hadn’t before. You lean back against the couch, your eyes a little heavier but more relaxed.
“You know, I never realized how much I needed this… to chill. I feel like I’m always runnin’ around, doin’ everything for everyone, and never doin’ anything for myself.”
Jon nods, a softer tone to his voice as he responds to you, looking at you intently. “I get it. You’re always taking care of other people, but you forget about you. You deserve to slow down. You gotta take care of yourself, too. Not everything’s on you.”
You turn to look at him, the weight of his words hitting you deep within your chest. “I don’t know why I feel like I have to do everything. It’s like if I stop, everything’s gonna fall apart.”
He softens, his expression growing more serious. “You don’t have to be everything to everyone, you’re enough just as you are. But I get it, you don’t want to disappoint people.”
A moment of quiet rushes in between them as the room feels more intimate, the casual chatter fading into something more profound. The connection between you feels intense, a shared vulnerability settling in.
You look down, almost embarrassed, as you speak softly. “Maybe I don’t know how to stop being so… perfect. Like, I always have to keep everything together. I don’t know how to let someone help me.”
Jon reaches over and tilts your chin to face him, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to always be perfect, Y/N. With me, you can just be you, no pressure.”
The mood shifts. Your eyes lock, and there’s an undeniable charge between you, something unspoken but deeply felt. The air is thick with tension as you unconsciously move closer together. Before you can even process it, Jon leans in and kisses you, slow and unexpected. It’s not rushed, but full of emotion, a silent acknowledgement of everything you’ve both been feeling. The kiss deepens naturally, your mutual desire growing, and in that moment, the world outside fades. Reality hits you after a moment and you pull back slightly, eyes wide in shock as your breath catches in your throat.
“Wha–?”
He pulls back quickly, his own eyes growing wide, clearly panicked. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to– I just– I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have–”
He stands up, pacing slightly, his hand running through his hair. After a beat you stand as well, still in shock as you move towards him and gently place your hand on his arm.
“Jon…”
He turns to you, his eyes pinged in fear and nervousness as he looks at you. You step closer, looking at him with a soft but intense gaze. Before he can utter another word, you reach up, gently pulling him back down to you, kissing him again– this time with more certainty, as if you had wanted it too. You pull away slightly, breathing a little heavier as his eyes search yours, his expression mixed with relief and surprise– then, a smile starts to form on his face.
Jon leans in, his forehead nearly brushing yours as that signature smirk of his plays on his lips. “Damn, Y/N… You got me over here thinking I messed up, and then you go and kiss me like that?” His voice is low, teasing, but there’s something deeper laced within it—something raw, something real.
You exhale a soft laugh, still feeling the warmth of his lips lingering on yours. “Maybe I just wanted to shut you up,” you tease, running a hand through his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft curls at the nape of his neck.
Jon’s grin widens, his hands still resting on your waist, thumbs rubbing slow circles against your skin. “Oh, word? That’s how you feel?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Nah, Y/N. I think you’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”
You raise a brow, playing along. “And if I have?”
His gaze darkens, his fingers tightening just slightly at your waist. “Then I’d say we got a whole lot of catching up to do.”
Before you can respond, he reaches over to grab the joint resting in the ashtray nearby, taking a slow drag before bringing it to your lips. “Here,” he murmurs, voice dripping with something dangerously smooth. “Relax a little. We got all night.”
You hold his gaze as you take a hit, the smoke curling between you as he watches you, his eyes flicking down to your lips before dragging back up. The tension between you thickens, wrapping around you both like a slow burn.
Jon leans back slightly, exhaling, his lips curving into a lazy smile. “You always look this good when you’re high, or is it just ‘cause you’re sittin’ here with me?”
You smirk, handing the joint back to him, your fingers deliberately brushing against his. “I don’t know, Uce… Maybe it’s just you.”
His laughter is deep, rich, sending a shiver down your spine. “See, now you just gassin’ me up,” he murmurs, tilting his head as he studies you. “But I ain’t mad at it.”
You shake your head, biting your lip as you watch him. “You like the attention, huh?”
Jon leans in again, this time close enough that his nose nearly brushes yours, his voice nothing but a husky whisper. “I like it when it’s from you.”
Your heart stutters, and for a moment, all you can hear is the faint hum of music in the background and the sound of your own breathing. The world outside doesn’t matter—right now, it’s just you and him, the air thick with smoke and something even more intoxicating.
“Say the word, Y/N,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing up your arm, slow, deliberate. “Tell me you want this as bad as I do.”
You swallow hard, meeting his gaze, your pulse pounding in your ears. Then, with a small smirk, you whisper, “What took you so long to figure that out?”
Jon grins, and before you can say another word, his lips are back on yours, the kiss deeper, more urgent, as if he’s making up for lost time. He groans softly against your lips, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulls you flush against him. The warmth of his body, the lingering haze of smoke in the air, and the way his fingers tease at the small of your back all send a slow-burning heat through you.
“You tryna drive me crazy, huh?” he mumbles between kisses, his voice husky, dripping with amusement and something deeper.
You smirk, tilting your head slightly to the side as you let your fingers trail up his chest. “I think I already have.”
Jon exhales a slow laugh, shaking his head before taking another hit of the joint, watching you through half-lidded eyes. “Oh, you definitely have,” he murmurs, exhaling the smoke lazily before slipping a hand up to cup your jaw, tilting your chin back slightly. “But I ain’t mad at it, baby.”
Your breath catches as his thumb traces along your bottom lip, his touch featherlight but enough to send a shiver straight down your spine. You hold his gaze, letting your lips part slightly, teasing him just enough before you take the joint from his fingers and bring it to your lips. His eyes darken as he watches you, his expression shifting into something unreadable but entirely consuming.
“You keep lookin’ at me like that,” you murmur after a slow exhale, the smoke curling between you both, “and I’m gonna start thinking you want me.”
Jon chuckles, shaking his head as he licks his lips. “Oh, I been wantin’ yo’ fine ass,” he admits, his voice dropping lower, thick with something almost possessive. “Just been waitin’ for you to catch up.”
Your pulse quickens at his words, at the weight behind them, at the way his fingers are still tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the pull between you both magnetic, undeniable.
“And what happens now that I have?” you ask, arching a brow, challenging him, teasing him.
Jon grins, slow and knowing, his hands sliding down to your hips before he pulls you onto his lap, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Now? Now I finally get to show you how bad.”
His words send a spark of electricity through you, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging slightly just to hear the way his breath hitches, the way his grip on you tightens.
“Damn,” he chuckles, his nose brushing against your cheek as he tilts your head, lips ghosting over yours but not quite touching. “You really been holdin’ out on me, huh?”
You smirk, your fingers still tangled in his curls as you whisper, “Maybe I just wanted you to work for it.”
Jon lets out a deep, satisfied hum, his lips finally capturing yours again, this time with even more urgency, more fire. His hands roam your body, fingertips grazing exposed skin, setting every nerve ablaze.
“Mm,” he murmurs between kisses, pulling back just enough to let his forehead rest against yours. “I don’t mind puttin’ in the work, baby. Not if it means I get to keep you right here.”
Jon’s grip tightens on your hips as he tilts his head back slightly, looking up at you with a mix of amusement and hunger. His fingers trace slow, teasing patterns along your bare skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The warmth of his hands, the faint burn of the smoke in your lungs, and the deep pull of his gaze make your head spin in the best way possible.
“You really got me like this, huh?” he murmurs, his voice husky, rough around the edges. He smirks, exhaling a slow breath as his fingers press just a little harder into your waist. “Sittin’ on my lap, lookin’ at me like you already know what you doin’ to me.”
You bite your lip, dragging your nails gently down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. “Maybe I do,” you tease, tilting your head slightly, watching his expression shift. “And maybe I like it.”
He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head as his hands slide up your thighs, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. “Oh, I know you do,” he says, his lips ghosting over your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. “You playin’ it all sweet, but you been wantin’ this. I can feel it.”
Your fingers curl around the fabric of his shirt, holding on to him like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded. Maybe he is. The heat between you is thick, the air electric with the weight of everything left unsaid. But right now? You don’t need words.
He leans in, his lips just barely brushing against yours, teasing you, making you chase the kiss. “Damn, baby,” he murmurs, smirking as he pulls back just a little, enough to make you whine softly. “You really gonna make me work for it?”
You smirk, tilting your head playfully as you drag your fingers up the back of his neck, pulling him closer, your lips barely touching his. “I thought you liked putting in the work?”
Jon groans, shaking his head with a laugh before finally closing the distance, kissing you with a deep, slow intensity that sends heat pooling in your stomach. His hands explore, memorizing every curve, every dip of your body like he’s wanted to do this for far too long.
He pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, “You taste too damn good, Y/N.”
Your heart pounds as you smirk, brushing your nose against his. “Must be all that smoke.”
He grins, his fingers tracing lazy circles at your waist. “Nah… it’s just you, baby.”
The way he says it, low and smooth, makes something flutter deep in your chest. You were just playing before, flirting for the fun of it, but now? Now, you can feel it. This is more than just a moment.
Jon studies you for a second, his gaze softer now, a little more serious. “What you want, Y/N?” His voice is still deep, still teasing, but there’s something genuine underneath it. Like he’s really asking.
You hold his gaze, your fingers still tangled in his curls as you whisper, “You.”
He grins, slow and satisfied, like he just won a game he was always meant to win. “Then come here, baby,” he murmurs, pulling you closer. “Let me give you what you been waiting for.”
Jon’s lips move against yours with a slow, deliberate hunger, like he’s savoring every second. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady on his lap as his tongue brushes against yours, deepening the kiss in a way that makes your head spin.
His hands wander, sliding up your back, tracing along the curve of your spine. His touch is firm, possessive, but there’s a tenderness beneath it too—like he’s memorizing you, committing this moment to memory. When he pulls back, just slightly, his lips barely an inch from yours, his breath is heavy, his eyes dark with something deeper than just desire.
His lips find yours again, this time slower, deeper, his fingers gripping you tighter like he’s afraid to let go. And you melt into him, letting yourself get lost in the moment, letting yourself feel everything.
He leans back slightly, his dark eyes drinking you in, his expression smug but soft at the same time. “So you admit it,” he murmurs, tilting his head, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your hip. “You been wantin’ me too.”
You roll your eyes playfully, but you can’t hide the smirk tugging at your lips. “Maybe,” you tease, dragging your fingers down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. “What? You need me to spell it out for you?”
Jon lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Nah, baby. I just like hearin’ you say it.” His grip tightens on your hips as he pulls you even closer, making you feel just how much he’s enjoying this moment. “Say it again.”
Your breath hitches as his lips brush against your jaw, his voice like honey and smoke, smooth and intoxicating. “Say what?” you whisper, tilting your head slightly to give him more access, your pulse racing.
His grin grows against your skin as he places a slow, open-mouthed kiss against your neck, his tongue just barely teasing you. “That you want me.”
You let out a soft laugh, biting your lip as you slide your hands up to his shoulders, gripping them just enough to make him hum in satisfaction. “You’re really enjoying this, huh?”
He pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression smug. “Oh, hell yeah.” He licks his lips, his gaze dark and hungry. “But I’d enjoy it even more if you quit playin’ and told me what I already know.”
You take a deep breath, your body fully pressed against his, the heat between you undeniable. “Fine,” you murmur, dragging your fingers up the back of his neck, playing with the curls at the base of his skull. “I want you, Jon.”
The second the words leave your lips, his grip tightens, his hands sliding down to your thighs before flipping you onto the couch, pinning you beneath him. You let out a surprised gasp, but it quickly turns into a soft moan as his lips crash against yours again, this time more urgent, more possessive.
“You have no idea how long I been waitin’ to hear that,” he murmurs between kisses, his lips trailing from your mouth down to your neck, his hands roaming every inch of you.
Your head tilts back against the cushions as you breathe out, your heart pounding. “Then why the hell did you wait so long?”
Jon lets out a low laugh, his breath hot against your skin. “’Cause you play too damn much,” he teases, nipping at your collarbone. “Had to let you catch up.”
You roll your eyes, tugging at his hair just enough to make him groan. “And now?”
Jon lifts his head, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your stomach flip. He smirks, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip before leaning in so close you can feel every word as he whispers, “Now, I ain’t holdin’ back no more.”
Jon’s kiss is slow, deep, and consuming, like he’s savoring every second of finally having you in his arms. His body presses against yours, his warmth sinking into you, making it impossible to focus on anything but the way he feels—solid, strong, right. His hands explore, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist before gripping you like he’s afraid you might slip away.
He pulls back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes locked onto yours, filled with something deeper than just desire. Possession. Affection. Something real. His thumb strokes your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the heat burning between you two.
“You sure you ready for this, baby?” he murmurs, his voice husky, his breath fanning against your lips.
You swallow hard, your heart pounding, but there’s no more hesitation. The tension, the teasing– it was always leading to this. To him.
You nod, looking into his eyes with a level of certainty that surprises even you. “I’m sure,” you say, your voice soft but filled with passion. “I want this. I want you. Now.”
He groans against your lips, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants, undoing them with a practiced ease. Every touch sends a wave of pleasure coursing through you, making it harder to think, harder to breathe. You tug at his sweats in return, eager to get him closer, to feel all of him, and when the last barrier is gone, the world outside completely fades away.
He doesn’t hesitate. His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer, and you can feel him, feel all of him, as he enters you. Moans fall from your lips as your walls adjust to his length, entirely consuming you as he slides in deeper. The sensation is intense, overwhelming, and it leaves you breathless as you both adjust to the fit.
You move together, the rhythm natural, fluid, as though you’ve been doing this forever. His groans match your own, every snap of his hips intensifying the connection between you. The way he touches you, the way he kisses you, it’s all so much more than physical. It’s about something deeper, something you both have been unknowingly craving for so long. There’s tenderness in every touch, urgency in every kiss, and beneath it all, there’s that deep, undeniable love that’s starting to take shape.
“God, Y/N,” Jon groans against your skin, his voice strained, as if it’s taking everything in him to keep control. "You feel so fucking good. So perfect.” He presses you closer, if that’s even possible, and you can feel him, feel every inch of his body hard against yours, as if he can’t get close enough. Each touch, each kiss, feels like an explosion of raw, unfiltered emotion, and as you move together, there’s an undeniable sense of belonging that wraps around you both like a cloak. His hands are everywhere, tracing the lines of your body, pulling you closer to him with every breath, every movement.
Your lips are caught in a feverish kiss, hungry yet tender, each one of his caresses sending waves of electricity through your body. His lips leave your mouth only to graze your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, making you tremble beneath his touch. There’s something about the way he kisses you, something intimate and all-consuming, that makes you feel like he’s not just touching your skin—he’s touching your soul.
"You feel so damn good," Jon murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. His hands slide down your back, pulling you even closer, and you can feel the heat of his body against yours, the way he's completely consumed by this moment, this connection. His lips find the soft curve of your neck again, pressing kisses there that make you tremble, and you can’t help but moan softly.
“Don’t stop,” you whimper, your voice shaky, your body vibrating with need. Every inch of you is on fire, every nerve alive with the sensations he's stirring within you. You want him, need him, and there's no turning back now.
He looks at you then, his eyes dark and filled with raw emotion. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N,” he breathes, his lips hovering near yours. “You’re mine. I’m all in. Always have been.”
Your heart skips a beat at the sincerity in his words, at the vulnerability he’s showing you. The intensity of what’s between you both only deepens, and you can feel the truth of it, settling between you like a promise.
"I’m all in too, Jon," you breathe, your voice steady now, filled with the certainty of everything you've been feeling. "Always have been."
His lips meet yours once again, and this kiss is different. It's softer, more intimate, filled with everything you’ve both been hiding—desire, love, longing. Every part of you is connected to him now, body and soul. You move together, slow and steady, savoring every touch, every kiss, like it’s the most precious thing in the world.
You can feel him, feel the depth of his affection, his love for you, and you respond with the same intensity, giving everything you have to him. The world outside doesn’t matter anymore. It’s just the two of you, here, in this moment, and nothing could ever compare to the way he makes you feel.
“Fuck, Jon…” you moan, your head falling back. “I’m–”
“I know, baby,” he groans in the crook of your neck, “I know.”
And as you move together, your bodies becoming one, there’s a sense of completeness, a feeling that you’ve found exactly where you belong. And when you finally reach the peak of that all-consuming desire, it’s more than just physical pleasure. It’s an emotional release, a release of everything you’ve been holding back, everything you’ve been too scared to say.
When you both collapse into each other’s arms, breathless and sated, you can’t help but smile. There’s no question anymore. What you’ve shared tonight is only the beginning. This is only the start of something deeper, something real. And you know that with Jon, you’ve found exactly where you’re meant to be.
#jimmy uso x reader#jimmy uso#jimmy uso smut#jimmy uso imagine#jimmy uso fanfiction#jey uso#the usos#wwe#wwe imagine#wwe smut#jey uso fic#jey uso imagine#jey uso fanfiction#jey uso smut#the bloodline
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Stuck Like Glue
rhysand x clingy!reader
warnings: light bullying, maybe some swearing
summary: You’re a little clingy and your High Lord never seems to mind but—maybe his friends do
clearing out my drafts, so don’t judge if it’s a lil short
—
It seemed harmless enough, hanging off of Rhysand’s shoulder or scuffling your way into his lap when the festivities had gotten entirely too much for you to endure on your own. His hand curls easily around your waist, fingers tapping at your thighs when you start pressing kisses down his neck in the middle of a conversation with one of the other High Lords.
Boredom quickly grew, excusing yourself with a kiss on Rhysand’s chest to go grab a drink. There’s more options to choose from than you can comprehend, drinks filled with hand tied tea bags or fresh fruit. You settle on something gentle, like tea with honey and you have full intentions to rush back to your High Lord, a smile in place and a few pastries in tow but the group he was speaking to before has huddled in closer, voices more hushed. “—just saying, Rhys. I don’t have a clue how you deal with her hanging off of you all the time.”
That was Cassian—cadence unmistakable even with all the overlapping voices in the crowd. Your smile falters, steps slowing as more of them pitch in, clapping sympathetic hands to Rhys’ shoulder and mumbling out different variations of how bad they felt for him. You say nothing, lemon tart shaking in your grasp and tears swell in your waterline as you wait for Rhysand to speak up—to tell them at they were stupid and wrong and had not the slightest fucking clue they were talking about.
But that never happens.
“She’s just a little attached—it’s cute.”
Attached.
You swallow the lump in your throat and enter again, a faux smile plastered in when you make a point to sit on the couch and not Rhysand’s lap. You refrain from reaching out to play with his fingers or trace the inky lines of his tattoos. There’s no spare kisses, no sweet words whispered for just the High Lord to hear, no fingers sneaking up to play in his hair or manicured nails scratching gentle patterns at the nape of his neck.
Just your hands in your lap, clutching that now half-cold cup of tea from before. “Baby, come sit over here.” Rhysand softly whispers, a hand already wrapping around your back to help move you but you stop him, head shaking in defiance as you slide just a little further away from him.
“That’s okay, there’s people around.”
“When has that ever stopped you before?”
He says it playfully but the smile you give back doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’m okay, Rhys. Thank you.”
His brows furrow, confusion evident but he doesn’t fight you on it.
He does, however, notice the way you pull your hand away whenever he reached for yours and halfway through a conversation with some male Rhysand had apparently known since he was younger; he tries to kiss you. Just a quick peck but you only offer your cheek instead. His frown deepens, eyes barely tearing away from you to finish what they were talking about because your distance is unmistakable.
There’s no fingers toying with the crisp lines of his dress pants. No hair tickling at the side of his neck or legs wrapped around his waist and the absence makes his jaw clench.
Rhysand’s friends leave for only a second, making promises to return with more drinks and that they hoped the Lord of Darkness could still keep up and he chuckles back some half-assed comment before fully turning to face you. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m having a great time.”
“You haven’t kissed me in hours.” It comes out like that’s the only fact he needed to make his point.
And to appease him now that no one was around, you lean forward and press a kiss to his mouth. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to be too much with your friends around.”
His brows raise again; that’s the second time now you’d said something along those lines. “Don’t worry about them—they’re just jealous anyway.”
You scoff like it’s an insult, quick to set the teacup down before you did something stupid like throw it. “Yeah, whatever.”
Rhysand forced you to meet his eye, a finger curled under your chin and you could feel the caress of his talons prodding at your mental barriers. “Show me what’s wrong.”
Your mouth opens to confess but out the corner of your eye you can see the guys returning, each holding their own bottle of whatever expensive liquor was left on display by the refreshment stands and your mouth shuts just as quickly. “There’s nothing wrong."
He doesn’t accept it, politely pulling you away from prying eyes. “Tell me, right now.”
A huffy sigh emits, shoulders slumping and tears well in your eyes. “I just want to have a good night without anyone thinking I’m too attached to you.”
His shoulders square out at the venom laced in the word and the previous conversation had between friends seemed to backfire. “Oh,” Guilty fingers trace warm cheeks, grazing over a wobbly chin and Rhys is crooning out apologies; promises that it wasn’t true—that he’d said whatever to get them off his back. “I didn’t mean it. I love when you’re all over me,” The truth in the words is undeniable and while you’d like to be mad, you really had missed the feel of him; his warmth and the grabby hands that always pulled you in closer.
“But, Cass said—“
“Cass is drunk and not getting any.” Rhys pulls you in closer, fingers raking through your hair while the other hand grips your hips just enough to push them flush with his own. The music thuds loudly, vibrating the floors and rattling the very blood in your body but everyone else seems to be having so much fun—laughing loudly and leaning into the other without the worry of being too much, too overbearing, too clingy or needy.
“But—“
“Don’t listen to him.” Pure affection sweetens his tone, love twinkling into amethyst irises when taking in every dip and curve of your features. “You’re perfect, just as you are.”
#rhys x reader#rhysand angst#rhysand x reader#rhysand fluff#rhys x reader smut#acotar fics#rhys acotar#acotar x reader#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#acotar x you#high lord rhysand#rhysand acotar#pro rhysand#rhysand#rhys fluff
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hi i happened to stumble across your page and i read your previous denji fics and loved them! may i request a fem!reader x denji where the reader is a transfer student and denji decided to show her around? it'd be cool if she was an exchange student so her japanese wasn't the best, too.
oh, and in the end or something, it'd be sweet if she called him her friend denji just like melted because he doesn't have great luck with girls.
i had this in my drafts to get posted eventually i cannot fucking believe i forgot about it nonny i am SOSOSOO sorry!!! jeez...
589 words - hinted fem reader but you're not described, if reader's dialogue sounds awkward its intentional
denji comes off as a ‘everybody leaves me’ guy for a sec but as we all know. everybody do be leaving him and its actually not his fault lol ~~~
“You have a nice head.”
“Huh?”
“Head…” you frown under Denji’s quizzing stare, then curling a finger through your hair, “I like it.”
“Oh, hair,” he repeats.
“Hair.”
“Yeah.”
Your frown deepens, “Sorry…”
Denji shrugs, hands in his pockets, “Don’t worry about it. You’re not from here, right?” you nod, almost shyly, “Then, don’t worry about it.”
When you don’t seem visibly relieved or even a little soothed, he continues,
“Really, it isn’t a big deal,” Denji’s been worse off, “I only know one language, you’re learning two.”
“I just worry other people judge me,” you sigh, kicking a rock from under your shoe, “What if they think I’m stupid?”
“They think everyone’s stupid. If anything, being a foreigner will get you admirers,” he shrugs, then nodding towards the door leading back into school from the roof, “Come on. There’s nothing else up here.”
A curious hum leaves you, “Why bring me to the roof first then?” you clasp a hand over your mouth, “Sorry, if that sounds rude.”
“Our class is on the second floor, so if I take my time working down from the roof, we can miss most of the morning classes,” he grins, sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight.
“Is that okay?”
“If they wanted a snappy tour, they shouldn’t have picked me,” he holds the door open for you, “What? You excited to hear boring shit on your first day?”
“Not really…”
“So… let’s just take our time,” he waggles a thin wood slab in front of your face, “Hall pass.”
“Hall pass,” you nod in confirmation, hugging your bag tight to your chest as a comfort device despite trying to appear casual, “Okay! Let’s take our time!”
You really don’t want to seem un-cool in front of this guy… His lax energy and low eyes, unkempt hair and spiky teeth; everything about him screams intimidation, yet he’s been nothing but kind to you.
“There’s nothing you really need on this floor, but I’ll walk you through it anyway,” he folds his arms, “Good to be thorough, huh?”
His tone gives way to utmost sarcasm, it makes you laugh softly.
“Yeah,” you press your lips before finally spitting out, “Can I sit with you later for lunch?”
“Sure.”
“Really?!”
“Why not?” he turns to look at you, “You seem nice. You haven’t tried killing me, and you’re super pretty.”
Again, you have the urge to shout so you do, “Really?!”
He nods, cheeks flaring pink, “You’re so pretty, I’m surprised you haven’t tried killing me yet.”
“Why would I want to kill you?”
Oh, Denji could fall to the floor right now, your voice is so soft and sugary and the crease in your brow is downright pathetic with how concerned it is -- you’re wide-eyed and pouting. You’re so sweet.
“Girls don’t usually like me when I’m alive.”
“That’s terrible…”
“I know.”
“I like you when you’re alive!”
Your earnest exclamation makes his face heat up, palms clammy. He swallows around the sudden uncertainty clogging his throat, “Seriously?”
“Seriously!” you beam, squeezing your bag harder, “You’re a good friend! At least, so far… I’m hoping we can be friends, is that okay?”
Denji sniffles, eyes stinging with waterworks, he clenches his eyes -- praying to avoid tearing up in front of you, and nods curtly, “I’d like that.”
“Yay!” now you’re full blown cuddling your bag against your chest, now from joy instead of nerves, “I’d like that, too!”
Denji thinks you’re the prettiest he’s ever seen when you’re happy like that.
#denji x reader#csm x y/n#csm x reader#denji hayakawa x reader#denji x you#nonny.reqs.🥝#IM HORRIFIED I FORGOT ABOUT THIS OH MY FUCKING GOD
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Jackie and Jack Kennedy both being infatuated with you…
a/n: this is my first time writing a full on fic (??) but I wanted to try something new so here you go 🐇💌. This is a bit messy but I needed to get this out of my drafts!



you met the two of them at a gala. The table you were seated at was within the immediate vicinity as the accomplished couple. An unlikely friendship bloomed and as much as you were grateful for the lovely connection, you were just as puzzled. You’d never befriended a married couple before but that wasn’t a reason to opt out of the friendship that was already going so smoothly. Obviously you were attracted to the both of them, it almost irritated you just how perfectly they fit each other. They almost made you believe that the myth about Zeus and his disdain for lovers was true, they were truly each other’s other half.
However, you would’ve never expected for your little crush to be reciprocated by them. Jack had a habit of pursuing all types of women behind Jackie’s back. He would’ve never expected for the two of them to become attracted to the same person. A woman at that. It was quite a surprise to Jackie as well, but she wasted no time in sharing her desires to Jack. She knew what she wanted and she knew her husband. She knew when he’d taken a liking to someone.
“You want her too, don’t you?”
It started out small. They’d invite you to their most intimate of dinners where it’d only be the three of you dining together. Jack had a habit of placing his hand on your leg, dangerously close to the inside of your thigh. You almost jumped out of your skin the first time that it happened, expecting Jackie to lash out at you, but she didn’t. Instead she looked at you with an intense gaze that almost made it seem as if she could read your thoughts, especially the most shameful of them all, and she’d play with your hair, looping it around her manicured fingers before letting the strand bounce back.
Everyone in the family knew you as their ‘close friend’, and that title wasn’t a lie. You quickly become a close friend to the entire family. It just felt like a lie to the couple because they knew their intentions were anything but platonic. They’d constantly invite you over to stay over at their estate, promising that it wasn’t an issue. It got to the point where you’d barely get the chance to go home and stay there for an entire week before they whisked you back to their house once again. Whenever you’d spend time with their children, Jackie would never fail to mention how good you were with them. She made sure to mention it to Jack once the two of them were alone that night.
Jackie would use her voice that was as soft as the loveliest petal to convince you to take time off of work to follow her and Jack up to Hyannis Port. “It’d be good for you to relax.” While out on the beach, Jack would spread sunscreen over your delicate skin, pulling back the straps of your bathing suit while saying something along the lines of: “I’m just making sure to really get in there.” Jackie would invite you to visit boutiques along the island with her, complimenting your figure after you try on a dress she said would look perfect on you.
during your stay at their estate in Hyannis Port, they’d always find themselves making a pilgrimage to your bedroom. They’d share a glass of wine as the fireplace crackled, the both of them asking what your favorite part of the day was, Jackie telling her husband about what the two of you did while out on the island, Jack asking you, “aren’t you glad you came along, sweetheart?” with a small smile on his face.
The conversation would continue long into the night, the mood quickly shifting once their wine glasses emptied. You knew something was coming with the way they seemed to silently speak to one another solely using their eyes, small smirks painted onto their faces. Jack swiftly made his way towards you, who was sitting on the very edge of the bed. He took the time to brush stray hairs out of your face before delicately cupping your cheeks, unleashing a tender smile once you allowed yourself to look him in the eyes. “Lemme get a good look a’cha.” Jackie quickly took her place beside you on the bed, making herself comfortable as she placed your hands in her lap, eyeing Jack as he stood in front of you.
“Why don’t we take this to our bedroom tonight instead, hm?”
dedicated to: @unmarlou
taglist: @romanticismboop @bobbykennedyswife @fortheloveofjos @summerrivera777777 @divinedelusional @lancerslover 🌷🍨🐇
#x female reader#x fem!reader#x female y/n#jfk x fem reader#jfk x you#jfk x reader#jfk x reader x jackie#john f kennedy x reader#Jackie Kennedy x reader#jackie Kennedy fanfic#rpf fanfiction#rpf x reader#jfk x female reader#jfk fanfic#jfk fanfiction#x fem reader#fem reader#kennedy fandom
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spare me this - anakin skywalker
pairing: anakin skywalker + fem!reader
summary: the council assigns you on a deathly solo mission, forbidding anakin to join you.
warnings: angst (i don’t know what is wrong with me!! i am addicted to writing it now), mentions of injury and death, anakin is so sweet and sosososo in love it’s almost pitiful, fluff
a/n: i feel like i put a part of my soul in this. i feel so drained but finishing this feels SO rewarding. another day for firsts! this is my first time writing for anakin, or anything star wars related :) this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS. i figured, while i still feel motivated to write, let me finish this!!! hope you all enjoy <3 i loved writing it
“three days.” you repeated faintly.
you disliked how quiet anakin was at times. it often left you more troubled than relaxed.
you frowned when he didn’t look at you from his stubborn stare at the ceiling. sighing softly, you mimicked his eyes and looked upwards, your neck rested against the headboard of the bed.
“we will come back victorious, and we will be right here. together again.”
the night before your mission’s departure, you slept in anakin’s room. it would have been much easier to ignore him, act like he didn’t exist for a while. the two of you were far too dependent on one another. the love sometimes felt overwhelming.
however, anakin’s fear was far too evident. it was strong - too strong to the point where you genuinely believed someone else could detect it. you decided that if you could soothe his worries, he’d be relieved of his thoughts.
but anakin didn’t speak. he refused, and his body simply forbid him from trying. not a touch or word was directed at you. it had almost been an hour of pure silence.
unbeknownst to you, there was a helpless feeling of uncertainty that anakin could clearly sense from you. that was what was driving him crazy.
bloodshed was a promise, you already knew it. your master had spoken grimly about the mission, and it was anakin who realized - much quicker than you - that this battle would not end seamlessly.
there was a large, if not, inevitable chance of you coming back alarmingly injured.
you were calculated, strong, and reliable. it was you who the council had chosen to lead the mission.
they were selfish, anakin believed.
“obi-wan knows this will kill me.”
anakin bleakly spoke, his voice muffled by the blanket he had brought up to his face. you decided against expressing your surprise to the sound of his voice.
while obi-wan had no idea about the true nature of your relationship with anakin, he was aware that you served as each other’s weaknesses. jedi code called for the banishment of any attachments, though obi-wan knew he himself had begun to break them when he started to form a brotherly bond with his once-padawan. he held no room for judgement.
while you hadn’t spent nearly as much time with him as anakin had, you felt very fond of him. there was a certain soothing atmosphere that only seemed to arrive in his presence.
secretly, obi-wan had pulled you aside mere hours after your mission was announced. his voice was low as he spoke, and he had gently held your arm the entire time.
“you come back within your scheduled arrival, and everything will be fine. i cannot promise you we will be at ease if you take longer.”
and, of course, through unknowing ears this was a simple comment - a statement of encouragement, really. but it was a completely different story when you could see the true intentions in his words.
anakin would not be at ease, is what he had wanted to say.
and obi-wan was right. from the moment you explained your mission to anakin, he had gone silent. you had been in your room, slowly walking in circles as you counted the tasks you were required to fulfill on your journey.
you hadn’t noticed how awfully pale your jedi had become.
now in present, you realized he had never left his stage of shock.
anakin hated this. he hated how guilty he felt for the resentment he had towards your capabilities. you had impressed the council too much, and it had put you in a dangerous position. he hated how careless you tried to sound, and he hated how you only gave the reply of “yes, master” when being told the instructions of your suicide mission. most importantly, he hated how he was forbidden to join you.
“how do i live? how do i function when you could be dead at any moment?”
you froze, eyes widening.
anakin’s words were cold, and you fought the urge to feed into his frighteningly grim thoughts.
pursing your lips briefly, you forced a smile, brushing back his hair from his forehead. anakin was laying on his back, eyes still narrow and focused upwards. you tried to keep the mood light, attempting to add a little amusement to calm the tense atmosphere his question had made.
“we’re both aware i’m capable enough to handle myself. i used to beat you during training, and i saved you from-“
your playful smile faded, and you gave up talking once you realized he had started to look up at you.
anakin knew you were strong. he didn’t need to hear your reassurance, especially when he knew even you were undoubtedly terrified.
for a while, he just stared at you. it wasn’t intimidating - he could never direct an emotion like that at you - but you felt exposed, almost as if you should shield your face.
anakin felt troubled, trying to piece together all his discomforting emotions clearly. to have you so close seemed to be a punishment. you shouldn’t be here. he shouldn’t be seeing the worry in your eyes, or watching the slight furrow of your brows. although, there was something so beautiful about your concern. he wasn’t made to feel these kinds of emotions, especially ones that one mere person could provide.
for a moment, he wished he didn’t know you. selfishly, he knew that would relieve him of the pain.
“anakin,”
his name that only ever sounded right when you said it.
“what’s the matter, ani?”
there were no protests made when you moved closer to him. the security and serenity he felt with your arms around him made it feel impossible to refuse.
anakin trusted you with his life. he’d give you his life in a heartbeat. he’d do anything for you. and yet - why couldn’t you help him believe you would be okay on this mission? it was cruel, picking on his one and only weakness. his heart, which you held so effortlessly. his mind consisted of you, you, you.
with a shaky sigh, he spoke.
“you’re scaring me.” he quietly admitted.
his eyes were glossy, nearing a depressive red. his stare was piercing. you weren’t sure you wanted his attention anymore.
confused, though mostly alarmed, you continued to look back at him. scaring him?
“you think you’re going to die, don’t you?”
your eyes widened, and suddenly you felt very vulnerable being in front of him.
“anakin - what?” you stumbled out, shaking your head in surprise. he couldn’t be serious. you attempted to talk, reassure him that you would be fine, but his gaze was unfocused. he didn’t want to listen to your futile words. anakin knew you better than anyone else.
“please, do not lie to me.” he whispered, and in that particular moment, you had never seen him so small. “spare me that.”
anakin skywalker, the reckless jedi who consistently charmed his way through trouble. someone who was so spontaneous, yet brilliant.
love kept him going. it wasn’t unrequited. he knew that more than anything. love got him up in the morning. love was adrenaline. love was everything and so much more.
he couldn’t bare losing it.
“i-“ you shook your head again, pausing briefly to lay beside him. a hand was placed on his cheek, and you caressed his face gently.
anakin’s eyes closed, and once more he felt a wave of anger pass through him. he hated the council, he hated the jedi. he hated everything to do with this. they were trying to take you from him. your sweet touches, your soft voice, your caring nature. he felt so bitter it hurt.
you pursed your lips, letting a sigh escape you.
“i will tell you this.“ you whispered, cupping a hand around his soft face. “i am scared. i act like i am not because that is what i must do.”
for the past couple of hours, anakin had assumed that hearing you admit your fear out loud would put his mind at ease. maybe, if you admitted you weren’t invincible, he could convince you to take extra care of yourself.
but your words had the opposite effect on him.
you were scared. and he wouldn’t be there to help.
“i cannot promise you i’ll be unscathed, anakin, but i can promise that i will come back to you.”
it took everything in you to not break in front of him.
you forbid him from continuing the conversation further after that.
when the morning you had dreaded arrived, you silently awaited for a signal on your commlink to commence your departure.
you had left anakin, quietly pleading for him to stay optimistic during your absence. he had helped you get dressed. his touch was like a feather, gently escorting you to a hell you could only hope would be generous to you.
weapons were hidden under your robes, as usual. two lightsabers, because you had learned from anakin years ago that an extra could never hurt.
you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt possibly felt guilty.
anakin had trained you, hoping that an increase in your skill would payoff on the battlefield to solely keep you safer when he wasn’t around.
but you had surpassed his expectations. and now, you were in this position.
it had been an honor to be praised so highly. though, you quickly found that, in reality, it was not something to completely look forward to. anakin’s worry being the main reason.
when your commlink finally sounds off, you waste no time in leaving.
three days, you had claimed to anakin.
when you finally return, a week had gone by.
and just like you had repeated to anakin so many times before - you were victorious.
though, not unscathed.
“medical-“ you breathed heavily, your hand glued to your side as you stepped out of your starfighter, your heart pounding in upmost fear as you realized your vision had begun to blur.
you couldn’t tell who grabbed you first. it wasn’t anakin, you knew that by muffled noise of calm reassurance. if anakin were here, he would have the entire building burned to the ground in seconds. if it weren’t for the excruciating pain you felt everywhere, you could have chuckled at the thought.
“requesting medical attention - yes, this is urgent.”
blinking as quickly as you could, which looked evidently labored, you watched as obi-wan spoke through his commlink.
yours had broken days ago, leaving you stranded with no communication. retreating was never an option in your mind, and you stupidly had fought until your mission had succeeded.
the consequences of your actions truly haunted you as you were lifted on to a table, the strong scent of medication telling you that, yes, your wound was as bad as it felt, if not worse.
and finally, the mask put over your mouth lulled you to a more painless state of sleep.
upon the first few seconds of opening your eyes, you tried to immediately close them again.
of course, anakin was right next to you.
you heard him jolt in his seat, repeatedly calling your name as if you would die if he stopped. his voice sounded hoarse. gently, you reached your arms out, silently begging for him to touch you. you needed his embrace. you can not have gone through all this effort for nothing. he was why you had tried so hard to survive. without a word, anakin complied to your silent request. his hands cupped your face, while yours did the same to him.
his chest was shaking with uneven breaths.
“i made it back - just like i said, right?” you spoke quietly, smiling through a wince. joking was never the way to handle serious situations with anakin, but fuck, you really couldn’t handle how broken he looked.
he didn’t smile. he hadn’t taken your eyes off of you, almost as if you would disappear the second he looked away.
“don’t ever do this to me again.”
you quickly stopped speaking at his tone. unstable and hurt. you can’t promise that to anakin. it would be selfish. you help people - your mission had hopefully saved thousands. what is one life to lose if it can save so many more? you’re skilled, why not use your potential for something extraordinary?
“leave the order with me.”
your eyes widen, bigger than you mean them to.
“i-i can’t do that.” you reply immediately, shaking your head in his gentle grasp. leaving the order was nearly unspoken of - all of these years training, dedicating your life - what would it have been for? you can’t leave. people need you - the galaxy needs you.
you would have anakin, but could you live with yourself? all these years, you’ve been taught to be selfless, so why is anakin proposing such an idea?
you’re sure he can see the conflict on your face.
“you almost died.”
his bluntness forces to you remember the stinging pain on your side. you shake your head.
“that’s a part of the job.” you speak firmly. “i would be injured a hundred times over if it meant someone won’t be.”
anakin immediately lets go of your face.
“listen to me,”
it’s nearly a full-body sob, and you watch as he stands straighter, attempting to compose himself.
you feel your heart drop to your stomach.
“you’re hurting me - i don’t care if i’m being selfish! i love you. i love you more than anything, and i know i cannot live without you.”
anakin skywalker’s love for you was almost pitiful. he himself nearly couldn’t stand it. how can one person cause so much heartache? why is it possible to care for someone as much as he does for you? his outburst was childish, and he’s aware. but he needs you to see him, so raw, so authentically. maybe if you could see the pain he was in, you would spare him more easily.
“anakin…” you whispered, so quietly you almost doubted he heard you.
the reality was, you tended to push anakin away. you were hesitant to love him. you felt greedy whenever you allowed yourself to love him so deeply. you were meant to serve others, not have feelings of your own. anakin was your weakness, and that scared you more than anything. if you were going to be powerful enough to save millions, it would be foolish to have a flaw.
but, clearly, anakin didn’t care about weaknesses. he had you, and loved you with open arms, and despite this, he preformed better than you in nearly everything. how does he manage?
“i love you too much.” his voice was defeated, and the anger he had previously held dissipated. “obi-wan saw me sulk after the three days. he stopped me from seeing you when you arrived.”
you nodded slowly. it made sense, you couldn’t imagine the scene that would have occurred if it had been anakin carrying your half-conscious body. anakin skywalker reacted according to his feelings. he was spontaneous.
you sighed quietly.
“i would never leave the order, anakin. i wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” you spoke, and winced as you visibly saw him tense.
you had to be honest with him.
reaching a hand out, you grabbed his, gently interlocking your fingers.
���but, i can promise you that i will never take a mission like that. it was reckless, i know. i’m so sorry.”
he didn’t speak, taking a seat on your bed.
he was unsatisfied, you knew that.
but you couldn’t change the entire trajectory of your life for him just because he worries you’ll get hurt. it would be wrong, and you know, though he won’t say it out loud, anakin agrees with you.
he allows himself to give into desires. it’s not because he feels he’s “deserving” of them, but because it’s something that comes so natural to him. so why must it be wrong to love you?
anakin is confident with your abilities. he knows how strong you are. but it’s second-nature for him to worry. you’re something so precious to him in this world of despair.
so he’ll stay silent and let you do whatever you please. he cannot hold you back, and he’s now painfully aware of it. but, he can help you.
more trainings, better advice, and more time.
you have each other, and he is satisfied with that forever.
#star wars fanfiction#star wars x reader#star wars fic#star wars x you#anakin skywalker#anakin angst#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin x reader#anakin skywalker x you#obi wan kenobi#obi wan star wars#darth vader#revenge of the sith#darth vador x reader#luke skywalker#obi wan x reader#rots#r2d2#star wars anakin
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