#if this is based off my real experience no it’s not lol

[aventurineswife]

Yooooooo self-aware HSR AU!!!

I would LOVE to know what some characters might think of Reader constantly battling the 50/50s (like how the HSR VAs get together and pull on the banners) with a side of the gacha seemingly favoring Bronya. 😅🤣

Off the top of my head, probably the worst one could be when Reader lost more than seven 50/50s in a row. (Based on past experience. 🫠) And not too long ago, they tried to pull for Sunday when his banner was running and when they saw the Harmony symbol—

—well…no points for guessing who showed up in his place. 😅

And then Reader ended up going all the way to max pity.

Reader: “IS THIS KARMA FOR RUNNING HIM OVER WITH THE ASTRAL EXPRESS!??!?!?!??!”

LMAOOO THIS IS GOLD. 😭😭

Okay, so here's how I think it would happen 🤭 (might not be accurate to the characters, plus idk much about pity and stuffs but I tried from the knowledge I got from yt shorts lol)

Bronya, being the gacha queen, might definitely notice how she keeps showing up in your pulls—especially when she’s not the one you’re aiming for. At first, she’d be gracious, “You’ve summoned me again. I can only assume it’s because you trust in my abilities to lead us to victory.”

But after, like, the fifth time, even she starts getting suspicious. “Is this… intentional? Or is this fate…? Regardless, I’ll fulfill my duties, as always.”

(Meanwhile, March is trying so hard not to laugh in the background: “Bronya AGAIN? You’re doomed!”)

Seven losses in a row, though? That’s when Himeko and Welt step in with some serious concern. “Seven? I’d say the odds are against you, but that’s… statistically impossible. Are you sure the stars aren’t just playing with you?”

“Perhaps this is a reflection of the balance you must maintain across dimensions… or you’re simply cursed.” (Thanks for the pep talk, Grandpa...)

Meanwhile, Silver Wolf is like, “You’re fighting against an algorithm. That’s your first mistake.” And then she offers to “fix” it for you (she can’t, but she enjoys messing with your hopes).

The Harmony symbol flashes, your heart soars, and then… Bronya. AGAIN. The absolute audacity.

Reader: “WHY WON’T YOU LET HIM COME HOME!?”

Bronya, oblivious to your suffering, “I will stand by your side, no matter the circumstances. Was this not what you intended?”

Everyone else is just dying. March is clutching her stomach “HAHAHA you were trying to pull for Sunday, and you got Bronya? AGAIN? Oh, I’m gonna cry—this is too good!” (she would definitely take pictures of you suffering.)

Dan Heng would try to be supportive, offering his trademark calm wisdom, “Perhaps it’s better to focus on what you do have. Bronya is an asset in any situation.” But even he can’t fully hide the slight twitch of amusement at your misfortune.

Now the real kicker: when you lose another 50/50 for Sunday and start yelling about karma for running him over with the Astral Express. EVERYONE stops.

Sunday, if he somehow hears this, “...You… WHAT?” (i kinda wanna hc that these characters aren't actually present during the fights/battle scenes.)

The Trailblazer looks at you like you (more like your screen) just committed war crimes.

Meanwhile, March is choking on her drink, “Wait, you RAN OVER HIM? Like, with the ACTUAL EXPRESS? And now he won’t come home? That’s… yeah, that’s fair, actually.”

Even Himeko raises a brow, “Well… actions do have consequences, as they say.”

You’d swear you hear Kafka’s voice somewhere in the distance, smirking, “Seems like fate is toying with you. What a fascinating little game you’ve got going.”

By the time you hit max pity, the entire Astral Express crew has started following your pulling rituals. March has a notepad, “Alright, you’ve hit 79 pity. This next pull is gonna be the one, I feel it—oh… wait. Nope. That’s another Bronya.”

Pom-Pom is pacing nervously in the background, muttering, “At this rate, the economy of our inventory is going to collapse.”

When you FINALLY pull Sunday, the whole group cheers like it’s a world event. Dan Heng, however, just calmly says, “Perhaps you’ve learned not to anger the stars. Or… the train.”

At the end of it all, Bronya might start feeling awkward about always showing up. If you mention your struggles, she’d quietly apologize, “If I’ve interfered with your plans… I am sorry. I only wanted to be of help to you. Perhaps the stars are telling us something we don’t yet understand.” (Translation: she’s just as confused as you are.)

This AU would honestly be too much fun. Every pull would feel like an event for the Astral Express, and I can already imagine March becoming your emotional support bestie through it all. 😭🙏

[genericpuff]

Hi there! 😄 Tysfm for compiling the LO brushes, being able to use them (non-commercially of course lol) makes me so friggin happy. 🙇‍♀️ I have a few questions to ask about them though:

Which brush did RS use for laying down color before shading/effects? In the Rekindled tutorial, you use the Lineart Brush for laying down flats, but I'm not sure if what I said in the previous sentence is the same thing as flats (I've been drawing my whole life, but I didn't start taking digital seriously until very recently lol 🤦‍♀️).

When the Splatter Versa brush was used in S1, there are varying oval shapes as well as several other non-ovular shapes that I don't see when I use the brush. Were there other similar brushes used with different shapes? Or am I just doing something wrong with the brush settings? The other shapes look more wilted than the other petal shapes.

Which brush was used for the usual thick, varying lineart? (It's most noticeable with the lines in hair in mid-S1 esp.) This brush isn't really textured, so I'm a bit confused which one in particular it is.

Sorry for being annoying, I'm just not tech-savvy and very intimidated by all the technical aspects of digital drawing lol ("Wtf are 'blending modes'?" /hj). 🙇‍♀️

Hey there, no problem!! I'm glad people are getting use out of them!

Though I'm not entirely sure as it clearly changed often throughout the course of the first season, the Gouache a Go Go brush and Hard Pastel both have those "crunchier" textures that you can see in some panels. There are also watercolor brushes that she used to blend the edges in some bigger panels.

Could you send me an example of a panel? Just so then I can actually see it and mess around with some things and give you a better answer haha That said, if I had to take a guess, either she messed with the brush control / tilt settings in Photoshop, or she may have used the Warp / Liquify tools to warp them intentionally to achieve that "petal" look. But again, send me a pic of the panels in question if you can and I can take a closer look :>

As mentioned previously, an example would help a lot here, but I do know what you're saying that some panels had very thick, varied lineart. Rachel has gone on record on two separate occasions that she used the Gouache Wet Pencil / Wet Round brush from the Kyle Webster Pack. Though the Hard Square Pastel brush can also achieve similar effects. Note that the Wet Round brush is a dual-sizing brush - if you adjust the brush size, you have to also adjust the particle size in tandem, otherwise you'll get a bigger brush size with more scattered/diluted particles. Though this effect IS very helpful for shading!

As mentioned, Rachel has mentioned some of the brushes she's used, and though it's not necessarily relevant to what you're looking for specifically, she's also mentioned these brushes in old FAQ's, specifically the Wet Round brush for lineart.

Here are some examples I whipped up real quick based on some of the panels that specifically depict thick lineart and textured coloring:

Mind you, these are all my best guesses, based on what Rachel has provided and what I've both dug up and been provided by other contributors who have pointed me in the right direction.

Unfortunately, while LO's art style is unique, it also makes it very difficult to reverse-engineer because throughout the comic (esp in S1 when she was still experimenting) while she did clearly have some "favorites" out of the bunch, she also just kind of went off "vibes" a lot of the time, treating every panel as an individual painting. And while that did lend to some of LO's most beautiful panels throughout S1, it also created a lot of whiplash between stylization because after doing one panel with thick lineart and bold texturing, she'd do another with watercolors and softer edges.

That's also not taking into account the software she was using - many of these brushes were designed exclusively with the Photoshop brush engine in mind, not Clip Studio, so they may not work entirely as intended if you use them in Clip Studio or some other non-Photoshop software. We also have to consider other factors like canvas resolution, texture effects added afterwards (such as that canvas overlay), and other adjustable settings within the brushes themselves that Rachel may have tweaked, including the pressure sensitivity, particle size/density, thickness, etc. All of which we can't really truly know, so we can only settle for our closest guess.

This is half the challenge - and fun - of trying to emulate her art style, because even she clearly didn't follow any strict rules 😅 Unfortunately it leaned more towards worse as time went on as it was clear the assistants themselves were given very little guidance or consistency (or at least, didn't have the time to settle on a happy medium) resulting in panels that are even more distinctly out of place as they were being swapped between different artists with different backgrounds and styles.

All that aside, I hope that helps! I do admittedly have to update that brush pack again, I feel like there are a handful of brushes I've found since then that could also be added, but I'd also like to update the included instructions to better reflect what I've learned since then regarding each brush and how they could be used. Ultimately though, they're yours to experiment with! Mess around, adjust the sizes and density and pressure settings, all of these things can contribute to the overall look.

Good luck! <3

[unfortunate17]

NOT WILLE TAKING SIMON TO A SUSHI RESTERAUNT BUT HES ALLERGIC TO SEAFOOD 😭😭 SIMON HE’S IN LOVE WITH YOU PLEASE GIVE THAT MAN YOUR HAND IN MARRIAGE

akcndknskxnsksk Wille’s down HORRENDOUS ok, and so is Simon, he’s just in his denial phase.

I’m happy y’all are enjoying Wille in this I was truly terrified that I’d over done it but this is a Wille that is infinitely more tragic than the one we see in canon - he didn’t meet Simon until much later, he’s already King, and he’s desperately searching for a genuine, real connection. It makes him eager to please, like he has to bargain to keep Simon’s interest.

But I digress, we will see more of this dynamic play out in the next chapter 🤭

Thank you for reading anon!!

[skylertheminish]

Doing this for a laugh and lore I guess (hey a title!)

Storm during the night.

Say what you like about us complaining about the weather. It can be utterly miserable here. And tonight was no exception. If anything it was rather expected for the winter. Cracks of thunder, flashes of lightning and howling winds. The usual for a midly bad storm. Unpleasant, but nothing I couldn't sleep through.

An almighty crack of thunder boomed right over the house with such might that the vibrations could be felt. Woken into a confused stupor, I hear another bang but from inside the house. Getting up to Investigate the source of the sound, I found the child Armarouge curled up on the floor. Clearly startled by the storm, he must have banged his head off the wall in a panic.

"You poor lad." I smiled softly, going over to comfort the scared child "it's ok. Just a bit of thunder. Nothing more. Everything is gonna be fine". Armarouge looked up as if wanting to believe me but flinched as soon as another crack of lightning was let loose.

Without a second thought, I gently wrapped my arms around him. This was the perfect opportunity to check if he hurt himself from the bang prior. Thankfully there seemed to be no injury.

Another flash and another flinch from the small Armarouge followed by a scared yelp escaping him. "Come on, up wi' ya lad." I groaned, helping him rise to his feet " lets get you in sitting room. We can watch a film and ignore the nasty lightning with some coco! How's that sound?" Before I could attempt to read his reply, I heard the cries of the young Ceruledge.

"Come on, get ya self in sitting room lad".

The young Armarouge did as asked, freezing occasionally as the storm howled and shook the trees outside. He found a spot on the sofa and settled down. A scared and raspy yelp passing his lips as lighting cracked right above the house. Pushing himself as far as he could deep into the corner of the sofa, hugging a pillow tightly. The scared young knight looked around the room. His gaze falling onto the Ceruledge who ran towards him, climbed up the sofa, and gave him a hug. He returned her kindness with a hug of his own.

"Here ya go you two, a nice warm blanket. Just gonna check on the others real quick then we can put a movie on. Shan't be long I promise" wrapping the pair up and giving Armarouge his coco. I gave the pair a quick pat before checking on the others in my care. This did seem to cheer the youthful knight up a little bit. Glancing at his cup of coco, Armarouge sheepishly took a sip from it, minding not to spill any on his adopted little sister.

Having checked on the others. I made my way back to the sitting room, not so pleasant phrases being uttered as yet more lightning cracked. "Awful rude of this storm scaring you ain't it." This got a nod of agreement from Ceruledge. "See? She thinks so too! Awful rude storm! How dare it be so mean" my ramblings got a soft giggle out of Armarouge while I searched for a film to put on. Once said film was found, I turned on the dvd player, sat down next to the two young knights and pressed play.

"Hang on a moment" getting up from my seat I went and drawn the curtains shut " nasty storm aint allowed to watch this movie with us" this got another soft chuckle from Armarouge and a smile from Ceruledge.

Hours had passed and there was finally signs of the storm subsiding. A soft groan came from Armarouge as he shifted in his sleep to get comfortable with Ceruledge peacefully oblivious to this in her own deep slumber. Careful not to wake them, I took a photo of the pair sleeping. I caught a glance of the time, and bags under my eyes.

" of course it would be morning now." A smile drew itself on my face at the sight of the two sleeping Pokemon. "Told ya everything was gonna be fine didn't I?".

[waywardsalt]

i have planned to write a pseudo-essay or some kind of detailed look at linebeck in phantom hourglass and how he can be interpreted as autistic but thats not going very well right now so here are some autistic linebeck headcanons

He has low empathy and as such has a hard time responding very well to emotional situations, but he can take advantage of his lower empathy in situations where empathy could make things harder, like tending to wounds or rationally handling emotionally-charged situations

His coat is a comfort object and he made it specifically to act as a very slight accommodation; it’s heavy and barely lets any light through it, and he can keep all kinds of little things in pockets sewn into the inner lining, but larger objects do make it more uncomfortable to wear at times. It’s mostly good to carry around things to fidget or stim with and can be helpful in trying to recover from overwhelming sensory experiences

He doesn’t usually stim in public, but taps his fingers on tables quickly and tends to rhythmically snap his fingers when excited, and on his ship is more vocal and more willing to stim, even if around others. One of his main stims that he’ll do for no particular reason is that he’ll hold his arm or back of his wrist/hand up to his nose and mouth for the smell.

He masks frequently to please people. His default mask is that arrogant and brave front he puts up for islanders and other he may come across. Usually, if that mask doesn’t work, he tends to double-down because it usually works and, in his experience, dropping the mask has usually gone badly (non masking he’s rude and blunt but more outwardly excited about adventure and his ship and all of that, i consider it where overseas in the game is when he usually isn’t masking. this shifts his arc to be about him learning to stop masking and feel comfortable being himself)

His special interests could include stuff related to treasure hunting but it could really range from stuff about adventuring or the ocean or engineering (relating to his ship) to stuff not at all touched in the game like music. He really enjoys music, listening to it, playing it, and writing it. He also enjoys and is fascinated by shellfish.

When busy or otherwise occupied, he doesn't usually notice when he's hungry. He doesn't have as much of a problem noticing thirst or exhaustion, but feeling hunger is a problem for him, and often leads to him going a long time without eating. On the other hand, he doesn't mind eating the same thing repeatedly and is perfectly fine with blander foods, so handling food supplies for when he'll be overseas for a long time is easy for him.

He knows he's autistic, he's known for a pretty long time, and he has books on it; he also knows that Link is autistic, but doesn't say anything about it and instead waits until someone else tells him. Until (and after, I suppose) Link actually learns that he's autistic Linebeck just makes sure to keep note of what accommodations he might need and if there are any textures or tastes or smells he can't stand. He doesn't have much of a problem helping out during sensory overloads, even soon after meeting him. It's more out of understanding how it feels to not have your needs met and a sort of solidarity rather than actual friendship.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

also it's something (better) like, the exercise of deliberately [art imitates life imitates art] holding up Billions to My IRL Things Perspective and going like whaaat would i want for winston. first answer is you want any character to not have been within the scope of the show in the first place, and to exit it since they are. and you kind of get that in the accidental reward in banishing winston, since like in the end it's just that the show doesn't care about him existing at that point But like it's winston sitting there quietly as everyone leaves & turns out the lights & Then he can leave too; others have peaced out & nobody remembers he exists so Now he can go off & do whatever.

but like in true form i think they definitely accidentally baked in another divine reward for winston in that, like, the way he's kept around as fodder for these fun little [pov: enjoy abusing this guy] asides with him, where it Just So Happens that he's autistic as something they're unaware of but is completely relevant to the expectation we understand him to be inferior(tm), it Just So Happens that he's also ""bad"" at not ""causing"" abuse to be turned on him. he's ""bad"" at staying in line. like well yes Yes that's what i want for him. just like In Real Life it's like yeah Ideally i'd want people to be able to extricate themselves from where they're trapped in power structures & i'd want them to have the perspective about it of understanding they're not Inferior / i.e. they are as much a person as anyone else and they're not corrupting everything good / i.e. it wasn't them Bringing It Upon Themselves and it's not them being Destructive by toppling a jenga tower of a hierarchy that happened to be pressing down on them. and winston is the kind of [the ruinerrrrrr] who is Turned On exactly because he keeps acting like someone who's on the verge of breaking out of the [being in line] someone demands of him as autist, employee, whatever other supposed manifestations of [inferior]

like in the 5 second stretches in which winston's allowed to speak before retaliation, it's because he's like "matter of factly" delivering whatever Information that's useful for another plotline. then he Brings It Upon Himself by making people aware that he's Also existing in his own right as a person rather than what they think serves their own deal / what they want from him at all times, perhaps by expressing his personality (didn't appeal to them! so it was Wrong) or not b/c of anything in particular said or done at present, just b/c people have a constant / accumulating contempt for him so their being in the same room as him & able to see & hear him is already dangerous. the [we're just seeing Any Abusive Dynamic in action] continuing apace.

and it's like, well, right there. he's written as acting like someone who doesn't blame himself for how he's treated, which billions frames as being Rude & Mean, and so too does everyone's abusers lmfao like and that these are his moments that are written to be Bringing It Upon Himself. and it's like hell yeah he doesn't blame himself. hell yeah that his self-esteem can manifest as anger at all. hell yeah that he keeps expressing himself with personality & confidence & doesn't even disguise his having been hurt, & it's this [his ass is Not grey rocking] that billions frames as both him "causing" his abuse & making that abuse "successful" lol, wrow just like real life!! and when like speaking of real life yeah it's not "bad" that people Do engage in strategies to mitigate & survive, including things like blaming themselves or being too "boring" to be anything but a non dialogued background character b/c that's all that goes unpunished, it's bad b/c it's done to them at all, not [ohh they're doing it to themselvesss] and like i'm asking myself like Ideally. what do i want Ideally. and i'd want winston to know that it's being Done To Him & i'd want him to find as much room for his personhood & autonomy as possible. and that's basically how he's written anyways, and billions hates that like You See this is why he deserves it this is why he's doing it to himself. and i'm like my god if that's not Inspiration for like "so what if people don't find you Personally Likable" and not preemptively holding back all personality or anything that'd draw attention as if you exist as a person in your own right & not something that only either gets in the way of or serves their wants of a Real person (someone with more power) like hell yeah you have him out here doing it =']

another fun addendum is like, billions isn't getting into it much b/c it doesn't seem to care much about "what if some people were peers & seem to have a genuine, recipcrocal relationship?" but that it just so happened to be like "oh tuk as the next closest loser who deserves it might be nice to winston" while it's framing winston as the "worse" Loser as being....unconditionally supportive of tuk. while the one downside of billions Also giving bentuk as much as it is is that it also inevitably has that shadow of "but ben is Superior to tuk" and like that it's correct that everyone encourages tuk to Stop Bringing It Upon Himself and start being less of a loser; it's wrong for winston to be like hey let's go have a foursome. like yeah probably don't make a list of the women you work with you'd be dtf but it's not like i'm convinced "ah billions and it's strong anti misogyny stance like" roflmao and billions is Not reflecting on "the downsides of unconditional support?" there when winston was beaten up for criticising taylor earlier like we WILL take his ideas while looting his [beaten unconscious] body there but he WAS wrong to express them as though he's BETTER than taylor!!! mafee's beautiful show of loyalty in kicking his ass even when he might agree with the argument and then benefit when it's adopted by taylor anyways! so it's as usual actually purely based on hierarchy & who gets to be in charge of people. it's correct for ben to be in charge of tuk, unless he has to step aside for that bizarre dead-end subplot about how it's tuk's fault if he's treated badly, b/c it's really his own Failure to have Confidence to know he has good ideas [raising our voice to deliver this message over the sound of breaking desks and chairs and computer monitors over winston because he had the confidence to act like he deserved to talk to someone and because he knows his ideas efforts & results are good & valuable around there] like. and isn't it sooo fucked up to talk about who you're dtf in the episode that has it be neutral if your boss is dtf & lets you know but is nice about it (and you're already Correctly tending to their ego, which you're responsible for!) like hey no possible problem! it's not even so much of a problem for a boss man to have the sex they're entitled to & be rude about their leveraging their power in that acquisition that it Stays a problem into the next season. ew, winston is Known (Inferred) Dtf??? we'll use it to exploit His vulnerability, exacerbate it, & punish him further for good measure in another episode that just revels in abuse & violation with a sexual aspect once again, but like, hey tuk don't do that, winston's such a Bad Influence for being like, shrug, kneejerk intervening with the Good Friendship where the One In Charge leaps in & Tells tuk the Correct thing to do. obviously there's also the tragedy that billions will Never let winston push back against Real Winners like rian or taylor in A Way That Matters (actually gets in their way at all) lol like. one thing that would have really been fun, winston should've literal kneejerk started physically fighting wags in either pertinent scene in 7x03 for real 110%. i wouldn't be like Gasp Violence Is Never The Answer if he just hit someone to hit them b/c fuck you. or broke anything on his way out etc etc. billions would Never let him. which is the other side of the same coin of [why he should get to]

tl;dr how great that winston's being "out of line" means he's basically always noticeably flouting & rebelling against the [He Deserves Abuse] agenda lol. that IS what i want. his being "beyond hope" like ohhh he's sooo stupid he doesn't realize how much he has the bad tastes & wrong interests & annoying personality He Will Always Be This Way like hell yeah!!! billions like oh no winston's personhood will never stay tamped down & locked away such that some godawful person tolerates keeping him in their inventory :( ohhh the ABA will never work :( that's right!!!!!!!!!! although they're not sad about it because it's about relishing the promise there will always be True Inferiors you can enjoy abusing with your righteous power over, but like well you wrote him escaping anyways even while dragging other "better" characters into standing around to serve axe's need for more than 1.8 employees and [crickets, reverberating cough, sneaker scuff] like. another ""wrong"" thing for winston to do, another thing for him to not "deserve," which is itself godawful actually lol like lord what it "rewards" its Good, Deserving characters with, no thanks. meanwhile winston's punishment is that he's autistic and """bad""" at being abused like lmfao good for him, fantastic for him, just what i want

[lilac-melody]

Writing my own experiences is honestly such a trip...

[hyuckiefluff]

dr dreamy | na jaemin

pairing: doctor!neighbor! na jaemin x fem.reader genre & wc: smut, fluff, crack (ish) | 18k summary: in which your infuriatingly hot neighbor ends up getting your box of sex toys delivered to his door by mistake content warning: explicit smut, breast play, oral sex (fem.receiving), brief mentions of sex toy usage, teasing, marking, dry humping, cowgirl (yeehaw), alcohol consumption, monster cawwwk jaemin (i didn’t make this up it’s real) a/n: hiiiii yes yes i know, it’s been forever and ive neglected you all so bad i’m so sorry ! i can’t even use the excuse of being too busy bc i was just in the worst writing slump of my life. but i hope i can make up for all those 10 months of radio silence with this long fic :) also it’s pretty different from what i’m used to writing. for once i wrote it all in lowercase bc i felt like this was lowkey a pretty unserious fic and that was the vibe it required lol it’s also my first time trying to write something “funny” but my humor is not that good still i tried lolz. also i'd like to add that i know as much about doctors as the next person so don't expect much accuracy in that regard. anyways hope you enjoy :)

your leg bounced anxiously as you stared at the photo the delivery guy sent, trying to figure out which door your package had ended up on. every single door in your building was the same plain white with no decoration, no plants, no quirky doormat to offer a clue. just a long, boring hallway of identical doors, and somewhere behind one of them was your package. 

"great," you muttered, already feeling the creeping frustration in your chest. 

your phone buzzed in your hand, and you barely had time to glance at the screen before answering. 

"sooo," came minnie's voice, far too chipper for this disaster, "did you like my gift?” 

“i’m gonna strangle you,” you hissed, rubbing your temples. 

“woah, you know i’m not into that freaky shit.” 

“i’m serious, minnie,” you groaned, dragging a hand through your hair. “the package got delivered to a different apartment. you must’ve put the wrong number on it.” 

“no way,” she gasped, already on the defensive. “i literally double-checked. triple-checked, even. it’s apartment 235.” 

"what?” you yelled, nearly dropping your phone.

this can’t be happening. out of all the apartments in your building… it had to be that one?

“minnie…” you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm, "it’s 236. apartment 236.” 

she paused. “oh.” 

you heard her laugh nervously, and it took everything in you not to throw your phone across the room. 

“minnie…” you groaned, pressing your forehead against the wall. “i swear, if it’s what i think it is based on our last conversation…” your voice trailed off as a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. “my next-door neighbor, minnie. MINNIE. jaemin…oh my god.” 

“wait,” she said, voice sharp with interest. “is that the doctor you said is too hot for his own good?” 

“i did not say that.” 

“you did.” 

“no, i said he’s just… a nice sight for my eyes, okay? in a building full of old people, sue me for appreciating the view.” you rubbed at your face. “but i can’t face him if he saw what’s in that package. i just can’t.” 

“listen…” minnie drawled. “what if he’s into it, though? think about it.” 

“i’m hanging up.” 

“no, wait—” but you pressed the red button before she could finish.  

the most mortifying experience of your 24 years on this planet, and it hadn’t even fully happened yet. but you could see it clear as day: the box, him opening it innocently, and its contents—oh, god, the contents.  

the thing is, you and minnie had a dumb tradition. whenever life got a little too miserable or stressful, you’d send each other gifts. random, stupid stuff. a manga you’d been talking about, or a plushie of your favorite sanrio character. the catch was you could never reveal what it was until it was opened. it was supposed to be a surprise.  

except this time, you were sure minnie’s idea of a "surprise" was directly inspired by your recent rants about being, well… frustrated. as in, the sexual kind of frustration. you had a strong hunch about what she’d sent. 

you sank into the couch, letting out a long sigh. you had two choices: go over there and pray he hadn’t opened it, or stay here and hope the ground swallowed you whole. both seemed equally unlikely.  

as you stared at the ceiling, someone knocked on the door.  

three soft knocks. 

your heart stopped, your body jolting so hard you nearly rolled off the couch. no. no, no, no. not him. please not him. 

you tiptoed to the door like a cartoon burglar, eyes wide with panic. don’t answer. if you don’t answer, he’ll just leave it. you could grab it later. it’s fine. everything’s fine. 

but as you got closer, you heard the softest shuffle from the other side. he was still there. you peeked through the peephole and there he was indeed… jaemin. your very handsome, very distinguished doctor neighbor. standing there, holding your box.  

you backed away from the door like it was about to explode. no, nope, you’d just wait until he— 

you bumped into the side table. hard. and in a moment of unfiltered pain, you yelled, “FUCK!” loud enough to echo down the hall. 

a long pause. 

“hello?” his voice was clear through the door. smooth, polite. 

you shut your eyes so tight you saw stars. letting him think you weren’t home was six feet under now. 

"just get it over with," you muttered to yourself, quickly checking your appearance in the mirror to make sure you didn’t look at destroyed as you felt.

you opened the door with the kind of smile you'd give a police officer who just pulled you over. "oh! good morning, neighbor!" you practically chirped, voice too high, too fake. 

he smiled, sleepy but devastatingly handsome. his scrubs hung perfectly off his frame, and his hair was tousled like he'd just came from a long night shift…which he probably did. he had the kind of face that made you think life has favorites.

“morning,” he said, nodding his head. “sorry to bother you so early, but this…” he held up the box, fingers tapping the side of it. tap tap tap your eye twitched. “this got delivered to my place by mistake.” 

he was so calm. too calm. 

“oh,” you squeaked, your voice barely functional. “uh, yeah! no worries at all! my friend sent it, haha, she’s… forgetful like that. really bad with numbers. haha…” you trailed off. kill me now.

“right,” he said, eyes flicking to the box. “well, here you go.” he held it out to you. 

you reached for it but your hands, slick with nervous sweat, betrayed you. the box slipped.  

“oh no-”  

thud.

everything.  

everything spilled out.  

time slowed. your heart dropped straight into hell. 

boxes. bottles. wrappers.  

and then the pièce de résistance.  

a sex doll. 

a life-size, anatomically correct, male sex doll.

you didn’t know what kind of sound you made, but it was something between a gasp and a whimper. your knees hit the floor as you scrambled to grab everything wishing you could somehow erase the last five seconds of reality.  

“oh my god,” you whispered, cramming the boxes into your arms. “oh my god. oh my god.”  

“uhm,” he cleared his throat and you didn’t even have to look up to know what kind of face he was making. there were no words for this. none. zero.  

“thank you for bringing it to me! bye!” you choked out, voice cracking on the last syllable as you grabbed what you could and slammed the door shut with the force of a hurricane. 

you pressed your back to the door, sinking to the floor, arms full of colorful boxes of shame. you stared at them.  

a vibrator. a bottle of lube. a very, very anatomically correct doll still half in its box.  

"minnie." you said her name like a curse.  

your phone buzzed. it was a text from her. 

minnie (6:18am): how’d it go?  

“hell,” you muttered, tossing your phone across the room. 

you sat there for what felt like hours, the weight of embarrassment crushing down on you. moving out suddenly seemed like the only reasonable option. scratch that, you were moving countries. or planets. was mars habitable yet?

♡ ♡ ♡

for the next few days, life was nothing short of miserable. you called in sick to work because there was no way you could leave your apartment and risk running into jaemin. the idea of seeing him again made your stomach twist into knots. to anyone else, it might seem dramatic—after all, owning sex toys wasn’t some scandalous crime—but the sheer context of it all was unbearable. 

the cherry on top was that the box had clearly already been opened. jaemin had definitely seen what was inside before you’d even dropped it. and the fact that he just pretended everything was normal while standing there with a straight face? it was almost worse. no, it was worse. because now he probably pitied you for dropping it in front of him even after he tried to save you from the embarrassment. 

you groaned, burying your face into the couch cushions. where was the armageddon when you needed it?

you hadn’t left your spot in the couch days, and your body was starting to hate you for it. your back ached from the awkward angle you were lying in, and your stomach growled because you’d panic-eaten the last of your food last night. 

“this is pathetic,” you muttered, grabbing your phone. 

after scrolling aimlessly for a few minutes, you reluctantly opened your food delivery app. you ordered enough food for at least two days and prayed the delivery guy would bring it to your door. but of course, life hated you, so when you got the “can’t find parking” text, you sighed loudly. 

“naturally,” you mumbled, dragging yourself off the couch. 

you threw on the most disguising outfit you could find: a black beanie, your puffy winter coat, and oversized sunglasses. did you look like a wannabe celebrity trying to dodge the paparazzi? sure. but desperate times called for desperate measures. 

you texted the driver a quick be right down and bolted to the elevator, keeping your head low. 

when you reached the parking lot, you practically snatched the bag out of the driver’s hands and mumbled a quick thank you before rushing back inside. you were so close to safety now. 

you stepped into the elevator and leaned against the wall, finally letting out a sigh of relief. but, as fate would have it, you celebrated just a tad too soon. 

just before the doors closed, a hand shot through the gap. you froze. 

you smelled him first.

that cologne. you’d know it anywhere. 

your heart sank as jaemin stepped into the elevator, looking unfairly handsome as usual. you, on the other hand, looked like a fugitive. 

“good afternoon,” he said politely, his voice calm and smooth. 

“hi, uh…afternoon,” you mumbled, holding the bag of food up to your face like a shield. maybe if you hid behind it long enough, he wouldn’t notice it was you. 

“y/n?” 

shit. 

you glanced at him reluctantly, offering an awkward laugh. “oh, hey, jaemin… didn’t realize it was you.” you pushed your sunglasses up onto your head. “these things are so dark.” 

he chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “didn’t recognize you either. are you coming from an event or something?” 

you blinked at him, realizing how ridiculous your outfit must look. “oh, no, i—uh… i have a cold,” you stammered. “just trying to stay warm, you know?” 

“ah,” he nodded, his expression softening. “well, you should rest up. drink plenty of water and maybe some tea with honey, it helps soothe your throat. oh, and—” 

he started rattling off doctorly advice and you could only stare at him, dumbfounded. because, of course, not only was he handsome, but he was kind, too. unfair. completely unfair. 

“thanks,” you said, cutting him off before he could get too deep into his list of remedies. 

he smiled at you again, and for a moment, you swore your heart skipped a beat. “i was actually a little worried,” he admitted, leaning against the elevator wall casually. “i haven’t seen you around the past few days.” 

“oh. uh… yeah,” you said weakly, shifting the food bag in your hands. “just been laying low, don’t wanna get anyone sick.” 

“i see,” he said, his tone light but teasing. “you’re not hiding from me, are you?” 

your eyes widened, and your breath caught in your throat. was it that obvious?

“what? no! why would i be hiding from you?” you forced out a laugh, but it sounded fake even to your ears. 

he raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching like he was fighting a grin. “hmm. just checking.” 

“yeah, it’s because of the cold” you muttered, fidgeting with the handle of the food bag. “it’s nothing serious, though. i appreciate the concern.” you tried to sound nonchalant, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you. 

“good to hear,” he said, his eyes still on you. “but still, if it doesn’t get better in a few days, you should probably see a doctor.” 

“right. definitely,” you nodded quickly, eyes glued to the little numbers above the elevator door, silently willing them to move faster. 

but of course, the universe hated you lately. the elevator suddenly jerked to a stop, too soon for your floor. you flinched, and before you could even begin to hope it was just a regular stop, the overhead lights flickered once, then twice, and then… nothing. 

darkness. 

“oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groaned, tilting your head back against the cold elevator wall. 

“well,” jaemin’s voice came through the darkness, and you could hear the grin in it, “this is bad timing, huh?” 

“this is my villain origin story,” you muttered, crossing your arms as you slid down to sit on the floor. “this is how i finally snap and become one of those people who yell at customer service workers.” 

he laughed, and you hated how nice it sounded. like melted chocolate. warm, smooth, and way too easy to get addicted to. 

“guess we’re stuck for a bit,” he said, sitting across from you. you could only make out the faintest outline of him in the dim emergency lighting. “not a bad person to be stuck with, though.” 

“yeah, lucky you,” you deadpanned, cradling your bag of food. 

there was a pause. not an awkward one but it felt somewhat intimate and you didn’t like it. not because you felt uncomfortable but because you were scared of embarrassing yourself further.

“hey,” he spoke up again, softer this time. “about the other day…” 

no. absolutely not. this was not happening. 

“nope,” you cut him off, waving a hand like you could physically swat the topic away. “we don’t talk about that. ever.” 

“but i think we should—” 

“we don’t, jaemin,” you said firmly, pointing at him like a scolding parent. “it never happened. you never saw it. i never dropped it. in fact, none of it exists. it was a shared hallucination caused by gas leaks in the building. that’s my story, and i’m sticking to it.” 

he snorted, hiding a laugh behind his hand. “gas leaks?” 

“yep. toxic fumes. real health hazard,” you nodded, doubling down. “you should probably get management to check that out, doctor.” 

“i’m a neurosurgeon, not an HVAC technician,” he shot back, amused. 

“same difference,” you muttered. 

another pause. you could feel him looking at you, even in the dimness. 

“for what it’s worth,” he started slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully, “i wasn’t judging you.” 

“good,” you mumbled, picking at a loose thread on your coat. “because i’m not like ashamed of it, just… mortified, you know?” you finally glanced up at him, feeling a little braver in the low light. “there’s a difference.” 

he nodded, eyes warm and understanding in a way that made your chest ache. “there is.” 

you sighed, letting your head fall back against the wall. “i’m moving. i’ve decided.” 

he laughed, full and bright. “you’re not moving.” 

“i am, actually,” you insisted. “gonna change my name, get a new identity. maybe move to the mountains. live off the grid. it’s the only way.” 

“you’re ridiculous,” he said, still grinning. 

“you say that like it’s news.” 

silence settled over you both again, but this time it was lighter. less suffocating. you could hear him shift, stretching his legs out in front of him. he tapped his fingers against his knees like he was keeping time to a song only he could hear. 

“so,” he said after a beat, voice low and casual. “was that, uh… the first time you ordered something like that?” 

your whole face went hot.

“jaemin,” you warned. 

“what?” he asked, the picture of innocence. “just curious.” 

“don’t make me call those toxic fumes back in here,” you threatened, pointing a stern finger at him. 

he threw his head back laughing, and despite yourself, you smiled too.

"fine, i won’t bring it up anymore,” he said with a tired smile, rubbing the back of his neck. his fingers pressed into the muscle there, and he winced slightly. 

“you okay?” you asked, glancing at him with concern. 

“yeah, just a long day at work,” he replied, rolling his shoulder like it’d been bothering him for hours. 

“yeah, i can imagine. the life of a doctor must be pretty hectic,” you said, eyes flicking to his hands as they worked over the tense muscle. “but you gotta know your limits too… you’re not made of steel, you know.” there was a hint of worry in your voice, and you tried not to let it show too much, but judging by the way he glanced at you, he caught it. 

he looked at you for a moment, longer than usual, before nodding. “you’re right,” he let out a short breath. “i guess i’ve been burying myself in work lately. but it’s hard not to when it’s this time of the year… i’m a pediatric neurosurgeon and too many kids get sick and hurt during the summer.” 

“oh, definitely. i’m not even a kid and i always get sick in the summer,” you joked, hoping to lighten the mood. 

he laughed at that, his grin easy and genuine. “never too late to have fun during the summer,” he said, leaning back against the elevator wall. “just not too much fun. can’t party too hard with a cold.” 

“do i look like the kind of person who parties too hard?” you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“hmm,” he tilted his head with a slight (cute) pout. “i wouldn’t know. we don’t know each other that well.” he glanced at you, eyes flicking over you just once before smirking. “but you’re young and pretty, so why not?” 

your heart stumbled in your chest, and you fought to keep your face neutral. did he seriously just call you pretty so casually like it was a fact of life?  the dim lighting of the elevator became your saving grace, hiding the warmth that crept up your neck. 

"want a piece?" you asked, anxiously trying to change the subject, raising the bag of fried chicken in your hands. you shook it lightly to emphasize. "i have a feeling we're gonna be stuck here for a while, and it's still warm."

he raised an eyebrow, his grin widening into something a little playful. “don’t mind if i do.” 

he moved closer, close enough that your shoulders almost brushed, and you set the bag down in front of you both. “dig in,” you said gesturing with your hands toward the chicken.

“so… you’re a doctor…” you said after a couple minutes of eating in silence. 

“last time i checked, yeah,” he replied, glancing over at you with a faint smile. 

“so why’d you move into this shabby building with elevators that haven’t been serviced since the stone age?” you asked, pausing to tear into a chicken wing with zero grace or subtlety.

he stared at you, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of your question or the feral way in which you were eating. 

“i’m a resident, so i don’t make nearly as much as people think. plus, med school debt is no joke. this place fit the budget.” 

“oh,” you muttered, suddenly feeling a little awkward. “sorry if that sounded kinda judgy. people tell me i’ve got a chronic case of big mouth syndrome.” 

“it’s fine,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “at least you’re honest.” 

“what about you?” he asked, tilting his head toward you. 

“me? oh same story, different font. drowning in student debt, and this place was… available,” you said, popping another wing into your mouth. 

he nodded, and after that, the conversation picked up, flowing so naturally you forgot you’d technically only been speaking to him for a week. before that you had only shared neighborly greetings in the hallway.

you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until the elevator jolted suddenly, the lights flickering back on with a low, mechanical hum. 

by then, the bag of chicken was empty, and you knew more about jaemin than you ever expected to learn in one night.

♡ ♡ ♡

“i thought elevators had some kind of emergency backup power for blackouts,” minnie said, her face pixelated on your phone screen. 

“yeah but this building’s like 60 years old,” you muttered, adjusting the camera so she could see you better. you were sitting on the floor, painting your toenails a fresh shade of lavender. “the fact that it even has an elevator is a miracle.” 

“true, true,” minnie nodded, chewing on a piece of candy. her eyes lit up suddenly. “by the way, why does your sexy doctor live there? i thought doctors were supposed to be loaded.” she propped her chin on her hand. 

“he told me he just started his residency,” you explained, blowing gently on your freshly painted nails. “and he just started a new job at the hospital. they don’t get paid that well when they’re starting out.” 

“hmm,” she hummed knowingly. “so you spend a few hours stuck in an elevator with him, and suddenly you’re an expert on the medical field, huh?” 

you rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. “it’s called having a normal conversation, you should try it”  

“i’m just saying,” minnie teased, tossing a gummy bear into her mouth. “you went in there hiding from him, and you ended up sharing chicken and life stories. i see you.”  

“there is nothing to see,” you shot back, tossing a pillow at your phone screen like she could actually feel it.  

“mm-hmm,” she hummed, leaning forward “so, did he mention it?”  

“mention what?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.  

“the box,” she said ominously, dragging out the word like it belonged in a horror movie trailer.  

you froze. “he tried to,” you admitted, tapping your fingers on the pillow in your lap. “but i shut him down real quick.”  

“oho, look at you,” she said, leaning back impressed. “miss assertive, didn’t think you had it in you.”  

“i have more pillows to throw, minnie. don’t test me.”  

“yeah, yeah, violent tendencies aside,” she waved you off, completely immune to your threats. “i hope this new confidence means you’re finally putting my gifts to use.” she tilted her head with the most innocent smile, which made it all the more sinister.  

your face went hot. so, so hot.

“i haven’t,” you lied, voice a little too high.  

“liar,” she sang, leaning closer to the camera. “i can see your shifty eyes. you definitely tried it.”  

“okay, fine, i did!” you snapped, throwing your hands up. “but it was a disaster.”  

minnie perked up with curiosity. “oh?”  

“yeah, oh,” you repeated, scratching your head. “it just… didn’t hit. it felt weird and i got frustrated, so i just gave up. plus i don’t know where you got that vibrator from but it almost burned my girlypop”  

“rookie mistake,” she sighed shaking her head dramatically. “that’s why you need someone with experience to help you out.”  

your brows furrowed. “what are you even saying right now?”  

“i’m saying,” she grinned like the devil himself, “that you have a perfectly qualified medical professional living right next door. i’m sure dr. mcdreamy wouldn’t mind giving you a consultation.”  

you blinked once. “minnie, you’re actually sick in the head.”  

“oh, please.” she tossed her hair over her shoulder, rolling her eyes. “he’s hot, he’s single, and you’ve already done half the work. you were sitting there eating fried chicken, and you’re telling me he kept throwing compliments at you? we all know you eat chicken like a truck driver, and he still thought you were pretty. use your resources, babe.”  

“he was hungry and stuck. he was probably grateful i offered him food. what else was he supposed to do?”  

“it’s so much more than that,” she said, holding up a hand, a clear signal for you to shut up and pay attention.  “i know when a man is laying the foundation and trust me, he’s building a whole mansion with your name on it.”

“you’re fully overreacting right now.”

one of minnie's strengths was that she wasn’t one to give up easily. but that also ended up being one of her flaws. you knew for a fact she wouldn’t drop this jaemin thing until she proved he had a thing for you.

“seriously, though,” she continued, leaning in so close her face was the whole screen. “he’s a doctor which means he’s like literally obligated to help people. it’s in the oath or something.”

“your point is..?”

“you know” she raised her brows suggestively “experienced hands, medical precision, and he owes you one for that chicken dinner. it’s the perfect setup.”

“you’re insane… like actually seek help.” you shook your head, trying to sound firm, but you were laughing too much to sell it.

“i’m serious,” she laughed along, “you literally blush whenever you talk about him. oh and you can’t even say his name without smiling.”

“that’s not true,” you said, shifting your position on the couch like that would somehow make your denial more convincing.

“mmhm,” she squinted her eyes, clearly not believing you.

“and for the record,” you added, jabbing your finger at the screen, “not every attractive man i meet is getting sexualized in my head. i’m not a beast.”

“no, you’re just a liar,” she shot back with a wide grin. “be real for like two seconds. i can see you smiling so hard right now.”  

“you can’t see anything,” you said, voice sharper now. “it’s the pixelation. your wifi is ass.”

“nice try,” she said, drawing out the words. “i know a bashful grin when i see one.”

“you stress me out,” you muttered, twisting the cap back on your nail polish with a little too much force.

“and yet, you call me every day.” she propped her chin on her palm, smile pure menace.

“i guess i’m a masochist,” you sighed, leaning back on the couch. “tragic, really.”

“mmhm, tragic is right,” she said, eyes narrowing into little crescents. “because now i’m gonna be your maid of honor at this wedding i didn’t even prepare for.”

“goodbye, minnie,” you deadpanned, reaching for the end call button.

“goodbye, future mrs. mcdreamy.” she winked at the camera, and before you could curse her out, she hung up.  

you sat there for a second, staring at your phone’s home screen, lips pressed tight.  

delusional.

she was delusional.

but that didn’t stop you from thinking about jaemin’s stupid grin. the way he’d looked at you while eating fried chicken, casual but present, like he was really there in the moment with you. the way his eyes lingered, just for a second too long.  

you shook your head, shoving the thought away like minnie’s words had wormed their way into your subconscious.  

nope.

you capped the nail polish, shoved your phone aside, and focused on literally anything else.  

♡ ♡ ♡

over the next few days, something shifted. not in a big, dramatic way but in a way you could feel.  

jaemin wasn’t just the polite neighbor you exchanged pleasantries with in the hall anymore. now, every time you saw him, there was this unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air like: we shared fried chicken in a broken elevator for three hours.

 this new attitude towards you was giving you whiplash. he was… extra friendly now. he smiled more, spoke to you first, acted like you were both in on some kind of inside joke. it wasn’t bad… but it wasn’t normal either.  

“morning, y/n,” he’d say as you both waited for the elevator, eyes crinkling like he’d already thought of something funny.   

“morning,” you’d reply, your gaze locked firmly on the floor. the tiles were suddenly fascinating. 

but then you’d catch the faintest trace of his cologne—the same one you’d inhaled way too much of in the elevator—and suddenly, the tiles weren’t so interesting anymore. so you’d try to sneak a glance or two, and when he wore his doctor’s coat and glasses, you couldn’t help but ogle. he was so ridiculously handsome. everything about him practically begged for you to admire. his sharp jawline, his dark eyes framed by impossibly long lashes, his lips always pink and effortlessly moisturized, his hair neatly trimmed in the back but just a bit longer in the front, falling perfectly right above his thick brows.

and he had the most captivating smile, so white it almost blinded you, and despite thinking he was the serious type at first, you quickly realized he was incredibly expressive. he communicated so much with just his brows, and it seemed impossible for him to speak without a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. like what was so funny? that you were crushing hard on him and it was kind of disrupting your life?

he was also too relaxed around you. way too relaxed. how was he so calm when he’d seen you in your most unhinged states? meanwhile, you could still feel the ghost of that moment hovering over you like a neon sign flashing "dildo girl spotted."

the third time you ran into him that week, you almost turned around to take the stairs, but you weren’t fast enough.  

“caught you,” jaemin said as soon as he spotted you, his grin sharp but not unkind. “thinking of bailing on me?”  

you paused like you were actually considering it. “don’t flatter yourself,” you said, walking forward like you’d planned to all along. “the stairs are just bad for my knees.”  

“oh, is that right?” he asked, stepping aside with a sweep of his hand. "good thing elevators exist, huh?”  

“lucky me,” you muttered, slipping inside. he followed right after, too close for comfort but not close enough to call him out on it.  

“lucky me,” he added, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, head tilted just so. "would’ve missed you otherwise."  

you had to bite back the cough that almost escaped when he said that, his lazy smile firmly in place like always.

you glanced at him, squinting. "what's with you lately?"  

“what do you mean?”  

“this,” you gestured at him vaguely. “all this… talking. you weren’t like this before.”  

“maybe i just needed an excuse,” he said with a nonchalant shrug “and three hours in an elevator with you was a pretty good one.”  

you blinked, momentarily at a loss. what were you even supposed to say to that?  

“did you rehearse that?,” you muttered, turning away before he could see the corner of your mouth twitch.  

“why, is it too corny? but you’re smiling,” he pointed out, you could hear his smile.

“no, i’m not.”  

“you are,” he said confidently, leaning in just a little like he was trying to see it up close. “it’s cute.”  

you flinched back, eyes wide. “don’t say that.”  

“why not?” he grinned wider, clearly pleased with himself. “it’s true.”  

“oh my god.” you turned so far away from him it was a miracle you didn’t phase through the wall. “stop talking.”  

“can’t,” he said, all too happy to keep going. “we’re closer now. shared chicken trauma and all that.”  

“that is not a thing.”  

“it is,” he nodded confidently. “you can’t just sit in a powerless elevator with someone for hours and pretend you’re strangers afterward. that’s, like, scientifically impossible.”  

“scientifically impossible?” you repeated, eyebrows raised. “you’re making things up.”  

“and here you are listening to all of it,” he shot back, tilting his head toward you, his gaze a little too sharp. 

checkmate.

you opened your mouth, ready to respond, but your brain was buffering.. 

"that’s what i thought," he said, his voice low and too satisfied, just as the elevator dinged.  

the doors opened. he didn’t move right away, gaze lingering on you as if he was waiting for something…or maybe just seeing how long you’d hold it.  

“you talk too much,” you muttered, stepping out with your head high like you had the upper hand.  

“I think you like it,” he called after you, the amusement in his voice so obvious you could practically hear the grin on his face.  

your heart did that annoying skip thing, and this time, you didn’t have an excuse for it.  

♡ ♡ ♡

things only got worse after that.  

jaemin, apparently, had decided that you were fun to mess with now.

he wasn’t over-the-top about it, though. no, he was too smooth for that. he played it cool, weaving little comments and actions into your interactions. a smile that lingered too long, leaning in just a little too close when he asked a question, throwing casual compliments like they didn’t mean anything.  

it was unfair, really. he’d gone from the quiet, polite neighbor, the one who worked long shifts at the hospital and mostly kept to himself,  to an actual menace in the span of three days. and somehow, you were the target of all of it.

the first time it happened, you brushed it off as coincidence. the second time, you thought maybe he was just being nice because you shared food with him so perhaps he thought that he owed you. by the third time, you realized: this man was having fun at your expense.

“new hair?” he asked casually one evening as you struggled with your keys outside your door.  

you froze, glancing up at him in confusion. “what?”  

“your hair,” he repeated, nodding toward you. “looks good.”  

your brows furrowed. “it’s the same as always,” you muttered, turning back to the lock that was absolutely refusing to cooperate.  

“huh.” he tilted his head, as if he were genuinely surprised. “then i guess it’s just you.”  

what does that even mean?!

your hands fumbled, and the key slipped from your fingers, clattering to the floor.  

jaemin’s laugh was soft but unmistakably amused. “you okay there?”  

“don’t you have patients to save or something?” you snapped, crouching down to snatch the key off the ground before he even had the chance to get it for you.

“off duty,” he shrugged, leaning against the wall next to you. his smile had that easy confidence you were beginning to associate with him now. “but i’ll step in if you need medical attention. emotional support counts too.”  

you groaned so loud it echoed in the hallway. “i swear, i liked you better when you were quiet.”  

“oh, you like me?” he asked, his grin widening just enough to make your stomach flip in protest.  

“past tense,” you shot back, finally shoving the key into the lock and turning it with more force than necessary.  

“if you say so,” he replied, drawing out the word like he didn’t believe you for a second.  

“you’re insufferable,” you muttered, turning around with your key in hand, gripping it like a weapon. “how do you live with yourself?”  

“one day at a time,” he replied, dead serious.

you shot him a glare as you finally shoved the key into the lock. it turned smoothly this time.  

“maybe you should try it,” he added, just as you opened the door.  

“try what?” you asked, already regretting engaging.  

“living with me,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. he even had the audacity to wink.  

you nearly slammed the door in his face.  

“goodnight, jaemin,” you snapped, stepping inside.  

“sweet dreams, love,” he called after you, his voice warm and smug in a way that lingered.  

you closed the door, locked it, and leaned your head against it with a groan that could only be described as deep emotional fatigue.

“then i guess it’s just you.”

you stayed pressed against the door for a little too long, thinking about it.  

he’s the worst.

the absolute worst.

♡ ♡ ♡

then came the visiting.  

you heard a quiet, rhythmic knock knock knock on your door one night. not frantic, not loud just steady enough to make you pause in the middle of scrolling through your phone.  

you frowned. minnie wasn’t the “surprise visit” type, and you definitely hadn’t ordered food. so who…  

when you opened the door, he was right there. 

jaemin.

he leaned against the doorframe, one arm propped against it, the other tucked into his pocket. his posture was relaxed, but his eyes sparkled with that familiar glint of mischief.

“what do you want?” you asked, gripping the door like it was a shield between you and whatever ridiculousness he was about to say.  

“so rude,” he said, mock-offended, though the lazy grin on his face betrayed him. “you invite a guy to share fried chicken once, and suddenly you’re heartless?”  

“oh, please.” you stepped back slightly, but you didn’t close the door. “i offered it. don’t act like i saved you from a tragic famine.”  

“true,” he agreed, his gaze dropping for a split second, flickering over you like he was trying to catch you off guard. “but since you brought it up, i was thinking about how we never got dessert.”  

you blinked, thrown off by the randomness. “what?”  

“dessert,” he repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “fried chicken’s great and all, but it’s not a complete meal. we missed out.”  

“and what, you came to my door at 9 pm to tell me that?”  

“yep.” he rocked back on his heels, completely unbothered. “i figured you owed me by now.”  

“owed you?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes. “for what, exactly?”  

“emotional support,” he said, grinning like he’d been waiting for you to ask. “that elevator ride? life-changing experience. bonded for life. it’s only fair you buy me dessert.”  

you tried to fight it. you really did. but the laugh slipped out anyway, betraying you.  

his grin widened, the kind that wasn’t just smug… it was triumphant.  

“fine,” you sighed, grabbing your phone off the counter. “but you’re paying next time.”  

“next time?” he echoed, his voice tilting upward just slightly. he leaned forward, close enough that the space between you suddenly felt smaller. “so you’re already planning our next elevator date?”  

oh, this man.

“don’t push your luck,” you muttered, pointing a finger at him while you tapped through your food delivery app. “i might close the door on your face next time.”  

“you like me too much to do that,” he said softly, and this time his tone wasn’t teasing.  

it was smooth, confident, and just low enough to make you glance up without thinking.  

your thumb hovered over your screen for a second too long before you forced yourself to break eye contact. you picked the first dessert you saw just to escape the moment and right before you got to pay he snatched the phone from you and put in his card details.

“so annoying,” you muttered.  

“gentlemanly,” he replied easily.

“you’re lucky i’m too tired to throw you out,” you shot back, already regretting how much you were letting him get away with.  

“lucky?” he asked, smirking. “i’d say you’re the lucky one. who else brings dessert and great company?”  

you groaned, loudly, just to drown him out.  

♡ ♡ ♡

thirty minutes later, you were sitting side by side on your couch, barely an inch between you, sharing a container of chocolate lava cake like it was the most natural thing in the world.  

“don’t hog it,” you grumbled, jabbing at his hand with your spoon when he took an extra-large bite.  

“it’s called portion control,” he argued, entirely unapologetic as he went for another.  

“it’s called stealing,” you shot back, scooping up a bigger piece just to even the playing field.  

“maybe,” he said, glancing at you with that maddening grin. “but you’re letting me get away with it.”  

“only because i don’t want to waste food,” you countered, though your voice lacked the conviction you wanted it to have.  

he leaned back slightly, his shoulder brushing against yours in a way that felt too casual to be an accident.  

“you’re really bad at lying, you know that?” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make you pause.  

you turned to glare at him, spoon still in hand, but the words caught in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you.  

he wasn’t grinning anymore. not exactly.  

it wasn’t a smirk or a joke or one of those teasing little quips he always threw your way. it was… softer. almost curious.  

your heart stuttered before you could stop it.  

“and you’re annoying,” you said again, but this time it came out quieter.  

his lips twitched, like he was holding back a laugh.  

“you already said that but i think it loses meaning when you let me hang out with you for this long,”  he murmured.  

you didn’t reply. you couldn’t. not when the air felt so… different.  

so instead, you turned back to the TV, grabbed another spoonful of lava cake, and shoved it into your mouth as an excuse to not say anything.  

he chuckled softly, the sound barely audible over the hum of the TV.  

♡ ♡ ♡

the next few days went by pretty much the same. whenever you bumped into jaemin in the hallway, the parking lot, or even at the local cafe, his eyes would lock on you like a heat-seeking missile, ready to tease you in a way that you hated to admit was starting to feel oddly enjoyable.

but everything escalated the day minnie came to visit you.

it had been a while since you two last saw each other, given that she lived in a different city. as soon as she arrived, you were buzzing with excitement. but you’d forgotten one crucial thing… minnie had a rare, borderline supernatural ability to drive you absolutely insane.

“i can't believe you had a second chicken date with him and still didn’t jump his bones… have i taught you nothing?” she said, exasperated as she popped a handful of popcorn into her mouth. dawson’s creek reruns were playing in the background, and as if that show didn’t depress you enough, minnie’s relentless criticism of your non-existent love life was making it worse.

“it wasn’t a chicken date,” you groaned. “we had cake. and why would i jump his bones when we’ve only just started speaking more than two words to each other like, last week?”

“you don’t get it,” minnie said, turning to face you with the gravity of someone about to lecture you. “a man doesn’t just knock on your door asking you to have dessert with him unless he has a different idea of what 'dessert' is.” she raised her eyebrows suggestively.

“ew, don’t make that face,” you winced. 

“i’m serious, y/n. if you keep shutting down every man that’s interested in you, the only dick you’ll get is that inflatable one i got you.”

“not even,” you sighed, slumping against the couch. “i haven’t taken it out of the box yet. and i won’t. that thing already embarrassed me enough for the next two lifetimes.”

“but if you think about it, if it weren’t for tom, you’d still be secretly crushing on dr. mcdreamy.”

“you did not just name the sex doll tom,” you said, eyes narrowing.

“i think we should at least go out tonight since you’re clearly not gonna put the moves on your sexy neighbor.”

“absolutely not,” you shook your head, pulling the blanket tighter around you. “ i’m not about to waste my night talking to any guy who thinks 'intellectual debate' means arguing about protein powder.”

“okay, harsh… no wonder you’re single,” she muttered as she got up and started tapping away on her phone.

“who’re you calling?” you asked, squinting at her suspiciously.

“there’s only one person who can drag you out of this apartment,” she muttered with a sly grin. "hold on—hello? jake? yeah, guess who i’m with right now?" she paused dramatically, glancing at you with a wicked smile. "your favorite girl, obviously!" she snickered, tilting her phone just enough to snap a photo of you mid-protest. 

“dude, c’mon, i’m in my grandma pjs right now,” you said, pointing at the flowery pajama top you were wearing.

“how about we meet up at the neo club? yeah? awesome, and bring one of your hot friends,” she added, grinning like a cat that just cornered a bird.

she hung up, looking triumphant, but you folded your arms with a scowl.

“there’s no way i’m going out,” you said flatly.

♡ ♡ ♡

you still ended up going out.

but only because they offered to pay for all your drinks, and who were you to refuse such a generous offer?

it didn’t take long to spot jake. he was already stirring up trouble at the bar, his charm dialed up to 100 as he leaned in close, tossing out some line that had the bartender blushing so hard she had to look away just to keep it together.

“ugh, casanovas make me sick,” you grumbled, scrunching your nose as you watched him.

“stop harassing the lady, jake,” minnie said, grabbing him by the collar and tugging him away from the bar. he turned around with a mock-offended gasp.

“excuse you, she was absolutely enjoying that,” he said with an infuriating level of confidence. he wasn’t even wrong—the bartender was still grinning.

“whatever, tiger. look who’s out of her cave!” minnie announced, shoving you forward slightly.

jake’s eyes lit up the second he saw you. he practically lunged forward, wrapping you in a bear hug and lifting you off the ground.

“no way! my y/n! it’s been, what, four years since i last saw you?” he spun you in a small circle before finally setting you down.

“please don’t be so dramatic. we saw each other last year on your birthday,” you laughed, shoving his chest.

“too long for me, babe. you know seeing you is always a treat,” he said, giving you one of those overly saccharine smiles he knew would make you roll your eyes.

“when are you ever not flirting? is that your default mode? is there any way to reset you?” you said, tapping his forehead like you were trying to reboot a broken phone.

“you know you love it,” he winked, and somehow it was both annoying and charming at the same time.

“anyways, where are the drinks i was promised?” you extended a hand expectantly.

“here you go, princess,” he said, handing you a tequila sunrise with a flourish. “and here you go, troll,” he added, handing minnie a margarita.

“i’ll kill you,” minnie slapped his arm hard enough to make him flinch.

“ow, abuse! abuse!” he cried dramatically, clutching his arm as if he’d been mortally wounded.

“you’ll live,” minnie muttered, taking a sip from her glass.

the night was already off to a wild start, and you had a sinking feeling it was only going to get worse.

♡ ♡ ♡

“so you’re telling me the box with all the freaky shit minnie sent ended up being delivered to your neighbor?” jake was practically doubled over, clutching his stomach from laughing so hard. “and he opened it?”

“yeah, laugh it up,” you said, unamused as you swirled the straw in your drink before taking a long sip. you’d lost count of how many drinks you’d had, but the warmth in your chest and the slight buzz in your head told you it was definitely more than a couple.

“if i were you, i would’ve moved,” he said, wiping at the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “i’m trying to think of a time i’ve been that embarrassed and not even my drunkest moments come close.” he shook his head like he genuinely felt bad for you, though the grin on his face said otherwise.

“believe me, i tried to avoid him,” you said, gesturing with your drink in hand. “but somehow, after that, he started sticking to me like gum on a shoe.”

“i’m telling you, he wants you!” minnie slurred, her eyes barely staying focused as she swayed slightly in her seat. clearly, she was the drunkest one at the table, her words carrying that telltale wobble of too many cocktails.

“don’t start with that again,” you shot back, tossing a napkin in her direction. “he doesn’t want me. he just likes messing with me because he figured out i’m an easy target.”

“oh, really?” she said, eyes narrowing like she’d just come up with the most brilliant plan. “then call him right now. and if he answers, put him on speaker.”

“like hell i will,” you snorted, glancing at your phone. “it’s-” you checked the time “…literally 3am. why would i disturb him just to prove your silly little theories?”

“coward! coward!” minnie started chanting, slapping the table. jake immediately caught on and joined her, their voices syncing up in a way that only drunk friends could manage. “coward! y/n is a chicken!” they sang in unison, making sure to drag out the last word obnoxiously.

“ugh, why do i have friends like you two…” you muttered, covering your ears as their chanting grew louder. “okay! fine! stop that right now, i’ll text him. once.” you jabbed a finger in the air for emphasis, giving them both a stern glare that did absolutely nothing to dim their excitement.

“what do i even say…” you groaned, staring at your empty chat with jaemin.

“send him a picture,” jake suggested.

you thought about it for a second, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “fine,” you muttered, lifting your phone. fueled by alcohol and peer pressure, you decided on the classic "oops, wrong person" strategy. you snapped a quick selfie, pursing your lips into a kissy face for maximum effect. you didn’t even care that it was blurry or that you looked very obviously drunk. in fact, that made it funnier. you snickered to yourself as you hit send.

“he won’t reply, guys,” you said confidently, tossing your phone onto the table face-down. but barely ten seconds passed before you heard the unmistakable ping of a new message.

“you were saying?” minnie arched a brow, crossing her arms in mock satisfaction.

“it’s probably just some random notification,” you said with a shrug, but your voice wavered as you picked up your phone. you tapped the screen, eyes widening slightly at the name that appeared.

jaemin neighbor (3:02am): ‘thought you weren’t one to party hard?’ 

the message was punctuated with a little smirk emoji that somehow made it worse.

“what’d he say?” minnie asked, leaning in so far you thought she might topple over.

you barely had time to answer before another message popped up.

jaemin neighbor (3:03am): ‘don’t drink too much though, you’re still recovering from that cold. and don’t let strangers hold your drink.’

your eyes stayed glued to the screen, heart doing an odd little flip that you refused to acknowledge. 

“oh my god, he’s worried,” minnie gasped, hands flying to her face. “he’s literally whipped!” she squealed, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you back and forth with unhinged glee.

♡ ♡ ♡

after seeing jaemin's message, you decided you needed to get drunker to drown out the thoughts swirling in your head. by the time you got back to the apartment, your uber driver had to practically haul you out of the car. you were a complete mess, your feet barely cooperating with the ground beneath you. minnie ended up hitting it off with jake’s friend so she decided to leave with him to do god knows what dirty things.

“woah there!” you yelped as you stumbled, nearly falling backward.

“ma’am, what’s your apartment number?” the driver asked. all you could do was laugh and mumble some random string of numbers that didn’t come close to making sense.

“y/n?” a familiar voice cut through the fog in your mind, sharp and clear like a bell. it almost sobered you up on the spot. he was wearing his scrubs and his tired appearance told you that he was coming back from a long shift.

“mr. doctor is here!” you announced with unrestrained glee, throwing your arms up. the sudden movement made you lose balance, and you tilted sideways bumping into the driver.

“you know her, sir?” he asked, his forehead shiny with sweat, clearly desperate for an exit out of this.

“uhm, yeah, she’s my next-door neighbor. i’ll take it from here, thanks,” jaemin said, stepping in with the calm authority of someone who’s seen this exact scenario a dozen times before. with zero effort, he crouched down and hoisted you onto his back, his hands steady under your thighs to keep you secure.

“wheee!” you squealed, your cheek smushed against the back of his head.

“hold on tight, yeah?” he muttered, his tone dry but fond as he adjusted his grip on your legs.

inside the elevator, you got bold. maybe it was the tequila, maybe it was just you accepting your undeniable attraction to jaemin, but your hands found their way to his arms. you gave his biceps an experimental squeeze and then hummed, thoroughly impressed. “do all doctors got big, muscular arms or just you?” you asked, squeezing again as if conducting a very important scientific investigation.

jaemin’s lips twitched, like he was fighting back a smile. “do you always get this touchy when you’re drunk?” he replied, shifting you slightly higher on his back.

“oh wow, you smell so good,” you said, burying your nose in his hair. “like… like one of those fancy candles you’re not supposed to light cause they’re too expensive.” you giggled against his head, completely oblivious to the way his ears flushed pink at the compliment.

“i told you not to drink too much,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “this is dangerous, you know.”

“sorryyyyyy,” you whined, dragging out the word. “but you know what they say about alcohol… uh, ‘wine before whiskey, you’re feelin’ frisky’?” you squinted, clearly thinking very hard.

jaemin tilted his head, giving you a side-eye full of disbelief and amusement. “that’s absolutely not the saying,” he said, his voice low and warm with a hint of laughter.

“no?” you pouted. “then it’s… ‘drinks before thoughts, memories get lost!’” you declared with absolute confidence.

he let out a full, genuine laugh, his shoulders shaking under you as he carried you down the hallway. “close enough,” he muttered.

♡ ♡ ♡

in front of your door, you squinted at the digital lock like it had personally wronged you. you pressed one button, then another, and frowned when the screen blinked angrily. your brain felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, and trying to remember your code right was harder than trying to solve a riddle while underwater. 

“ugh, whatever,” you groaned, letting out an exaggerated sigh before plopping down on the floor, legs sprawled out.

“what are you doing?” jaemin's voice came from above, and when you tilted your head back, you saw him crouched in front of you, eyebrows raised.

“can’t remember the code, so m’ sleeping here. duh,” you replied with the kind of lazy confidence and lack of urgency only drunk people have. you reached out and booped him on the nose simply because he looked cute like a bunny in your inebriated mind.

he blinked, clearly thrown, before a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “no, you’re not,” he said, shaking his head. he stood up, offering his hand. “come on.”

“ugh, fiiine,” you groaned, letting him pull you up, though you were basically dead weight. he slipped an arm around your waist to steady you, and the warmth of his hand pressed against the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up. the touch was casual but it sent a sharp jolt of awareness through you. 

you bit your lip to distract yourself from the sudden rush of heat. blame it on the alcohol. definitely the alcohol. 

“i never sleep in a guy’s apartment ‘til…” you held up your hand and started counting on your fingers, lips moving as you mumbled to yourself. “like the 6th date.” 

“that so?” jaemin glanced at you, his voice raspy in a way that made something flip in your stomach. 

“mmhm,” you hummed, leaning your weight against him. “gotta have rules, y’know? safety first.” 

“you’re not wrong,” he replied, guiding you toward his door with slow, careful steps. “but that logic’s got a flaw, don’t you think?” 

you squinted up at him, skeptical. “what flaw?” 

“you’re here with me, and we’re not even on date three,” he said simply, giving you a pointed look. 

you tried to ignore the fact that he considered the elevator and that night at your apartment as dates.

“that’s different,” you countered, waving a hand like that somehow made you right. 

he glanced down at you, eyes sharp but soft in the way they flickered across your face. “how?” 

you blinked, suddenly too aware of the space between you two — or the lack of it. his arm was firm around your waist, and you could feel the rise and fall of his breathing. 

“you tell me, doc,” you muttered, avoiding his eyes. 

there was a brief silence, just the quiet hum of the hallway lights and the soft shuffle of your feet. his fingers curled slightly against your hip, the pressure grounding but gentle. when he spoke again, his tone had shifted — quieter, steadier. 

“i’d never do anything to hurt you,” he said, voice sure like a promise. his eyes met yours, serious in a way that knocked the air right out of your lungs. 

you didn’t have a quick comeback for that one. 

he held your gaze for a moment longer before clearing his throat, eyes flicking away. “anyway,” he said, his voice back to its usual steady calm, “you can sit for a bit. i’ll get you some tea and food, sober you up.” 

“huh?” you blinked, your tipsy mind still trying to catch up after that intense moment you just shared. 

“sit,” he repeated, guiding you toward the couch like you were a stubborn cat. “tea. food. you’ll thank me later.” 

you flopped onto the couch with zero grace, still buzzing from everything.

your head was throbbing, but that wasn’t half as uncomfortable as the rapid thumping of your heart against your chest. it wasn’t normal. it couldn’t be normal. you pressed a hand to your chest like that might somehow slow it down.  

“what is this…” you muttered under your breath, tilting your head back against the couch. 

you were spiraling, no doubt about it. overthinking everything. it’s just jaemin, you reminded yourself. your neighbor. your kind neighbor. of course he’d say stuff like that. he’s a good person, and good people say things like "i’d never hurt you" all the time, right? it didn’t mean anything. didn’t mean a single thing. 

calm down, y/n.

you blew out a slow breath, trying to trick your heart into believing you were unbothered. 

jaemin came back moments later, a cup of tea in one hand and a small plate of buttered toast in the other. he’d ditched his jacket, now in just a fitted black t-shirt and scrub pants. you weren’t sure what was more distracting… the way the fabric clung to his chest and arms, or the way the veins in his forearms stood out as he set the plate down. you stared a little too long, gaze following the flex of his muscles.  

he’s just a guy, you thought, just a guy with arms that look like they were carved out of marble. 

“okay, drink this,” he said, nudging the tea toward you. his voice had slipped into his "doctor tone", soft but firm, like he fully expected to be obeyed. “you’ll feel better. if you feel dizzy or like you’re gonna throw up, let me know. i’ll go shower real quick, and you can shower after.”  

he disappeared into his room before you could respond

you sat there for a second, letting the silence settle around you. without him there, you finally took a proper look at his place. it was weirdly nice for a building as old and shabby as this one. sleek, modern furniture, spotless floors, a faint scent of something woodsy and clean. candles lined the windowsill, and he had an at-home gym tucked neatly in one corner. 

of course he does, you thought, he’s probably too busy saving lives to hit a real gym. 

you bit your lip, remembering the way his arms had felt around your waist. the heat of his skin seeping through the fabric of your shirt. and now, after seeing how built he actually was, it was starting to make a lot more sense. 

“ugh, stop it,” you muttered, shaking your head. it was just the alcohol messing with you. that, and the fact that you were definitely ovulating because there was no way you’d be acting like this otherwise. the combination was lethal. 

you reached for the tea, eager for something to snap you out of your head, but the second you took a sip— 

“ah—!” you yelped, dropping the cup. hot liquid splashed onto the floor, the mug clattering after it. thankfully, it missed your legs but your tongue throbbed like you’d just bitten into molten lava. 

“shit,” you hissed, sticking your tongue out like that might cool it down. 

“what happened?” jaemin’s voice came from the bathroom, sharp with concern.  

“‘s fine!” you tried to call back, but with your tongue still stinging, it came out garbled. “ihz ohkaay!” 

the sound of the shower stopped. you barely had a second to panic before jaemin burst into the living room, dripping wet, a loose towel slung dangerously low on his hips.  

you froze. 

oh.

oh my god.

if this were an anime, you’d have shot out a nosebleed so powerful it’d blast you into another dimension.  

“what happened?” he asked, eyes darting to the mess on the floor, then back to you. he crouched beside you, eyes scanning you likely looking for injuries. water dripped from his hair, trailing down the sharp planes of his face, his chest, his abs… 

his abs.

your gaze locked on the V-line that dipped beneath the edge of his towel, and your brain short-circuited. every coherent thought you’d ever had dissolved on the spot. you didn’t even realize you’d spoken aloud until you heard your own voice. 

“oh my god.”  

jaemin blinked, eyebrows drawing together in worry. “what?” 

“n-nothing!” you stammered, face heating faster than the tea had. you slapped a hand over your eyes like that might erase the image from your mind. it did not. it was burned in.

he frowned, his puppy-dog concern on full display. “i’m sorry, i should’ve warned you the tea was hot.” his gaze shifted to your tongue, still sticking out as you tried to cool it with air. his frown deepened. 

“izzokay,” you said, or at least tried to. with your tongue swollen and numb, it sounded more like “iz okeh, iz my fauwt.”  

“hold on,” he said, his tone dropping into doctor mode. “stay put. you might cut yourself on the glass.”  

he moved with quick precision, ducking into the kitchen and coming back with a towel and some paper towels to clean up. you, unfortunately, had nothing to do but sit there and watch him. and watch him you did.  

the way his muscles shifted under his skin with every movement. the flex of his back, the dip of his hips, the subtle pull of his abs as he crouched to pick up shards of glass. you sat there like a fool, cheeks blazing, unable to look away.  

he could model for anatomy textbooks, you thought, completely mesmerized. like, imagine turning to page 47 and seeing this man labeled as "muscular system: front view."

every part of him moved with that annoying grace certain people just had. the kind of grace that was only possible when you were stupidly, unfairly attractive.  

he wiped the floor clean and tossed the paper towels aside, giving one final glance at the spot to make sure there wasn’t a single shard left behind. then he turned to you.  

“all clear,” he said, standing to his full height. the towel on his hips slipped slightly lower, and your gaze shot to the ceiling so fast you almost got whiplash.  

“thanks,” you muttered, trying to keep your eyes anywhere but there. you still saw it in your peripheral vision. 

he tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “you sure you’re okay?” 

am i okay? absolutely not. your tongue was burnt, your pride was in pieces, and your brain was playing a slow-motion highlight reel of his abs. you were the furthest thing from okay.  

“yep,” you croaked, voice cracking at the end. 

“here you go,” he said, handing you a glass of cold water. “it should help your tongue.”

“thanks,” you mumbled, cradling the glass with both hands. you refused to look directly at him, eyes darting everywhere in the room. the slow drip of condensation on the glass suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the world.

“are you hot? you’re sweating,” he asked, leaning forward, his gaze landing on you with that soft concern he wore too easily.

you nearly spat the water back out. of course you were hot. this whole situation was hot. the room was hot. he was hot.

“it’s fine,” you blurted, shaking your head a little too quickly. “i’ll just shower.”

“yeah, sure. go ahead,” he said, nodding toward the hallway. “bathroom’s the door on the left.”

he glanced down at you, eyes flickering over your dress just briefly. instinctively, you tugged at the hem like that would magically make it longer. you should’ve known minnie was setting you up when she called this look “casually dangerous.”

“your clothes…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “they don’t look super comfortable to sleep in, so if you want, i can lend you something.”

there was no reason for your heart to leap into your throat the way it did. it was a normal offer. a completely normal, helpful offer. but your brain decided to be weird about it. suddenly, you were picturing yourself in one of his shirts, fabric hanging loose on you, the scent of detergent and him faintly clinging to it. god, you needed help.

“okay,” you said, trying to sound normal, but it came out too fast.

“i’ll grab them for you,” he said, already heading toward his room.

as soon as he disappeared, you collapsed against the couch, exhaling hard like you’d just survived a boss fight. you dragged your hands down your face, letting out a muffled groan.

“pull it together,” you hissed at yourself.

walking into the bathroom didn’t help. the warmth hit you instantly, soft steam curling in the air. it smelled like aftershave and clean skin, and if there was a single coherent thought left in your brain, it got drowned out by the sensory overload.

“seriously?” you muttered under your breath, tilting your head back with a groan. “what am i, thirteen?”

the mirror was fogged up, so you wiped at it with your sleeve, only to be faced with your own reflection staring back at you like girl, really? you pressed your hands to your cheeks, feeling the warmth that had nothing to do with the steam.

“i’m normal,” you announced firmly to no one but yourself.

except you weren’t, and you knew it. it wasn’t just the alcohol making your brain short-circuit anymore. you were sober now, and this was just you being ridiculous. the neatly folded clothes on the counter didn’t help. a plain white shirt and a pair of sweatpants sat there, fresh and clean.

you eyed the sweatpants, then glanced down at your legs, already knowing how this was gonna play out. still, you gave it a shot, pulling them up your legs after taking a (very) long shower. unsurprisingly, they swallowed you whole, the cuffs dragging behind you. yeah, no. you’d trip over yourself in less than a minute. sighing, you snatched up the shirt instead and pulled it over your head. it slipped down past your hips, the sleeves flopping well past your hands, turning them into little paw-like stubs.

“this will have to do,” you decided with a sharp nod to yourself.

when you finally stepped out of the bathroom, jaemin was lounging on the couch, scrolling on his phone. his gaze flickered up at you, and for a split second, he just blinked, eyes tracking down your frame before quickly darting back to his phone.

“where are the pants?” he asked, lips quirking up just slightly at the corner.

“too big,” you said. 

“hmm” he hummed, looking up and letting his gaze drag just a little slower this time, eyes sharp with mischief. his tongue pressed against his cheek, a lopsided grin threatening to break free. “i see”

if your heart was pounding before, it was in full percussion solo mode now. but you just flopped down beside him, acting like everything was cool, like you weren’t hyperaware of every inch of bare skin peeking out from under the too-big shirt.

you glanced at the clock on the wall — 4:30 a.m. blinked back at you in dim red light. too late to be awake but too early to call it morning. your eyes shifted to jaemin, and you could see the weight of exhaustion hanging on him. his blinks were slower, his body slouched deeper into the couch cushions.  

“jaem…” the nickname slipped out without warning, soft but certain. his eyes lifted to you immediately.

“you can go to sleep. i’m fine,” you said with a small smile, hoping it was convincing. “and… thank you. for everything. you’re too nice to me.”

his gaze lingered on you, steady and unguarded, like he was committing you to memory. then, his lips curved slowly into a smile. not his usual teasing grin but something gentler, sweeter. it hit you square in the chest, and you had to physically fight the urge to lean forward and kiss him.  

you did not win that fight.

instead, you moved on instinct… leaning in and wrapping your arms around him. the moment you did, you panicked. it felt stiff, clumsy, like you’d misread the whole situation. you were just about to pull away when his arms slid around your waist, slow but sure.  

he pulled you in, pulled you all the way in, until you were practically draped over him. your breath caught in your throat, heart thudding so hard you swore he could feel it.  

his head dipped down, face tucked into the curve of your neck. the warmth of his breath hit your skin in soft bursts, and his hold on you tightened just a little more.  

“it’s my pleasure,” he murmured, voice low and raspier than it had been all night. his lips brushed against your collarbone as he spoke, “always.”

good god, you nearly let out a sound you’d never be able to live down. every nerve in your body was on high alert. it had been so long since you’d been held like this.

his nose nudged against your neck lazily. you felt the butterflies in your stomach riot, wings frantic against your ribs.  

“jaem…” you said, but it came out too soft, too breathless to sound like an actual warning.  

“you smell good,” he muttered, voice all sleep and satisfaction. “you always smell good.” he breathed you in.

lord, have mercy.

“i think we should both sleep,” you murmured, but neither of you moved. neither of you even thought about moving.  

“yeah,” he said, voice low and uneven.  

“yeah,” you echoed, but it sounded less like agreement and more like an excuse for staying right where you were.  

he pulled back just enough to look at you, but his arms stayed firmly around your waist. his eyes flickered down to your lips. on reflex, you wet them with a quick swipe of your tongue, suddenly self-conscious. his gaze darkened and you swore you felt the shift in the air.  

“stop me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

but stopping him didn’t even cross your mind. not when he was looking at you like that. not when his face inched closer, closer…

his lips met yours softly at first, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to decide. you decided quickly. your hands slipped into his hair, pulling him in as you kissed him back with everything you’d been holding in all night.  

he responded instantly. his hand cupped the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair to hold you in place, deepening the kiss until it wasn’t soft anymore.

his other hand found your hip, gripping you firmly as he shifted you on top of him, his touch guiding you like he knew exactly where he wanted you to be. dangerous. this was so, so dangerous. 

because you were only wearing that stupidly oversized shirt and the flimsy scrap of underwear underneath it. and when you settled fully onto his lap, you felt everything.

he must’ve felt it too, because his breath stuttered, and a needy groan escaped him, muffled against your lips. you felt it vibrate through your whole body, made you shiver as if he’d pressed his mouth to your spine instead.  

his hand on your hip squeezed, fingers digging in just a little harder. 

the kiss grew messier, wetter, breaths and tongues tangled together in a way that felt far past the point of no return. it didn’t help that his other hand left your neck, sliding down, fingertips trailing along your side before slipping under the hem of the shirt.  

his hand slid up and up until…

he froze the second he realized. his palm pressed against bare skin, no bra, no barrier. you felt his breath hitch at the same moment you heard it.  

“fuck,” he groaned into your mouth, his voice rougher now, heavier. his fingers spread wide, covering as much skin as he could reach, his palm warm and steady against your ribs.  

and when his thumb brushed up, grazing just barely under the curve of your breast, the sound you made was far too needy. his gaze flicked back up to yours. like he was asking. like he was giving you one last out.  

you didn’t take it.  

his hand moved again, bolder this time. his palm slid over the curve of your breast, warm and firm, fingers curling around it as if it belonged to him. you sighed at the contact, eyes fluttering closed as your head tipped forward. it wasn’t enough. you didn’t know what “enough” would be, but it wasn’t this.  

he must’ve felt it too, because his other hand rose to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin in slow, soothing circles. he tilted your face up, and for a moment, you thought he’d kiss you again. you tilted toward him, lips parting, but he had other plans.  

instead, he leaned in and pressed his lips just beneath your ear. the warmth of his mouth sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could even process that, he was moving lower. he kissed his way along your neck, slow and steady, with the kind of patience that made your heart feel like it was on a countdown. 

and then the kisses changed. his teeth grazed your skin, his lips sealed over the spot, and he sucked hard enough to make you gasp. your hands flew up, gripping at his shoulders as he trailed love bites down to your collarbones, marking you in a way that felt possessive, the kind you’d see after he was gone.  

“jaemin,” you whispered, your fingers digging into his shirt. his name barely sounded like a name anymore.  

his only answer was a low hum against your collarbone, his hand still working under your shirt. his fingers traced lazy lines along the sensitive skin beneath your breast, and just when you thought he was going to stay gentle, he pinched your nipple between his fingers.  

you gasped sharply, hips jolting forward on reflex. “oh—”

he didn’t stop. he rolled it slowly between his fingers, feeling out every little reaction you gave him, every twitch and shiver. your body betrayed you, arching into his touch, and the way he smiled against your neck told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you.  

instinct took over before you could think it through. your hips rocked forward against his lap — once, twice — chasing relief from the ache that had been building low in your stomach for too long. you felt the slickness between your thighs, hot and damp, soaking through the thin fabric of your underwear and seeping onto his sweatpants.  

he felt it too. you knew he did from the sharp intake of breath he took, from the way his hands squeezed tighter his fingers digging into your hip, his other hand cupping your breast with just a little more pressure.  

“fuck,” he groaned, head falling forward, his forehead pressing against your shoulder. his hips shifted beneath you, his arousal impossible to miss now. he was hard, and every roll of your hips dragged against him perfectly, making him curse under his breath.  

the heat of it all was unbearable, and you had no one to blame but yourself. but at this point, did it even matter?  

he lifted his head, jaw tight, eyes half-lidded. his gaze flickered from your face to where your hips met his lap, his tongue darting out to wet his lips 

“i don't know how much longer i can hold back…” his voice was strained.  

you blinked down at him, heart thudding hard against your ribs. every nerve in your body felt like it had been lit on fire, but somehow, you still managed to smile.  

“who told you to hold back?”you said, voice soft but sure.  

“shit…” he muttered, his voice low and wrecked. his fingers dug into your hips, guiding them down against him with a deliberate pressure that had your breath hitching in your throat.  

it wasn’t just you moving anymore. he was moving you, rocking you back and forth against him faster, tired of pretending you weren’t both desperate for it.  

your head tipped back as a broken moan spilled from your lips. the friction was too good, just the right amount of pressure to have your thighs trembling. the heat between you had gone from warm to blistering, every grind making you more sensitive, more aware of the damp mess you were both making between his sweatpants and your underwear.  

his eyes locked on you, not wanting to miss a single second of it… the arch of your back, the part of your lips, the way your breath caught every time you sank down a little harder. 

“look at you,”  he breathed, voice rough and half-laughing. “getting this worked up over a little humping”

you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. “i’m clearly not the only one,” you shot back breathlessly..  

his lips were back on you in an instant,  rougher than before, all teeth and tongue. his hands slid up your back, under his shirt you were wearing, fingers dragging against bare skin. his nails scratched lightly at your spine, sending chills down your whole body, and you gasped into his mouth.  

he didn’t let you pull away. his lips chased yours, like he’d been starving for this, like now that he’d had a taste, there was no way he was stopping. he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and your body moved on instinct, hips rolling harder against him.  

“fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, head falling back against the couch as he sucked in a breath through his teeth. his hands slid down to your thighs, gripping them tight as if to ground himself, but all it did was spur you on.  

you leaned forward, trailing kisses down his jaw, his neck, biting just enough to feel him shudder beneath you. his pulse was wild under your lips, and when you grazed your teeth against it, his hips bucked up so hard it knocked the air out of your lungs.  

“you’re making it so hard to be soft right now,” he said through gritted teeth, head tipped back, neck bared for you like an invitation. his eyes flicked down to where you sat on him, where the line between you two had blurred so badly it didn’t seem to exist anymore.  

“then don’t be,” you whispered against his ear, biting down on the lobe just to hear him curse again. “nobody asked you to be soft.”

that was all it took. his grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin with purpose. his next move was fast—you were on your back before you could register it, his body hovering over you, his weight pressing you down in a way that made your heart race in your chest.  

his eyes met yours, pupils blown wide, hair falling into his face. he looked like a mess and it was perfect.

“say that again,” he said, voice nothing but gravel and breath. his hands slid up your thighs, pushing them apart, the slow drag of his touch enough to make you squirm. “say it again so i know you mean it.”

your chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, and you reached up, fingers threading through his hair.  

“nobody,” you whispered, tugging his head down just enough to make sure he heard you, “asked you to be soft.”

for a second, he didn’t move. just stared down at you like he’d never wanted anything more in his life than to eat you up.

then he leaned in, and when he kissed you this time, it wasn’t soft or tentative or testing the waters. it was raw, hungry, and so deep it knocked the air out of you. his hands moved with purpose, sliding up your thighs, pushing his shirt higher and higher until the air hit bare skin.  

everything was heat and pressure and need. he was all you could feel, all you could hear — his breath heavy and uneven, his name falling from your lips like it was the only word you knew.  

and when he finally pressed his forehead to yours, eyes squeezed shut like he was fighting to hold himself together, you knew you’d both already lost.

the next thing you know, his hands are tugging your shirt up and over your head, the fabric barely brushing past your arms before it’s gone. the cold air hits your skin for half a second before jaemin’s mouth replaces it, hot and relentless as he traces the curve of your collarbone, his lips dragging lower, slower.

when his mouth finally closes around your right breast, it’s warm and wet and just enough to have you mewling. his tongue flicks over your nipple before sucking it into his mouth, his teeth grazing it just lightly, sending a sharp jolt of heat straight down to your core.  

his free hand slides lower, fingers trailing down your stomach, over your hip, and slipping beneath the waistband of your lace underwear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. he moves without hesitation, fingers seeking out the slick mess waiting for him, and the second he finds it, he lets out a low, rough groan against your skin.  

“god, you’re so fucking wet,” he mutters, pulling off your breast with a slick pop, his breath fanning across your skin. he glances down between your legs, his gaze so heavy you feel it like a touch. his eyes darken, his tongue darting out to wet his lips like he’s hungry just looking at you.  

he hooks his fingers into the sides of your underwear, dragging them down in one slow pull, eyes locked on you like he’s scared to blink and miss it. the fabric barely makes it past your knee before he’s already looking back up at you, his pupils blown wide, lips parted with the kind of need that makes your chest feel too tight.  

“let me eat you out,” he says, and his voice is rough and desperate.

you bite your lip like you’re thinking it over, but you know you’re going to say yes. you just like seeing him like this — all unsteady and breathless, too far gone to hide it.  

“please,” he says again, this time more ragged, his voice cracking at the end like he might actually lose it if you make him wait any longer.  

“okay,” you say, and it’s all he needs.  

he��s on you in a heartbeat, sliding down your body so fast it’s dizzying. his hands are firm on your thighs, pulling them apart, spreading you wide until there’s nowhere left to hide. his gaze flicks up one last time, meeting yours like he’s checking, like he’s giving you one last chance to stop him.  

but you don’t. you won’t.

he presses his fingers to your folds, parting you slowly, exposing everything to him, and the breath he takes is deep, like he’s savoring the moment before the fall.  

then he leans in.  

his nose brushes against you first, just a soft nudge that has your hips twitching on instinct. then his tongue follows in one long, slow drag from bottom to top that has your breath stuttering in your chest. his grip on your thighs tightens, fingers digging into your skin like he’s steadying himself as much as you.  

he moans against you, a deep, satisfied sound that you feel as much as hear, and his tongue dives back in, licking at you like you’re his favorite thing to taste. the movements are slow at first, deliberate, his tongue exploring every part of you like he’s trying to figure out exactly what makes you fall apart.  

and you are falling apart.  

your head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting as you let out a shaky, breathless moan. your hips twitch up, and his hands are right there to hold you down, keeping you still as his tongue moves with more certainty, more purpose, licking you with long, messy strokes that make you gasp.  

his mouth doesn’t slow, if anything, it grows more determined. his tongue moves with precision now, circling that sensitive spot before flicking against it in quick, teasing bursts that have your hips jumping despite his firm grip.  

“fuck, jaem—” your voice breaks on his name, your hands gripping the sides of the couch, searching for something, anything to ground yourself. but there’s nothing. nothing but him, his mouth, the obscene, wet sounds filling the air, and the heat building low in your stomach.

he groans again, the vibration shooting through you, his tongue flattening against you before he drags it up,

“taste so sweet,” he murmurs into you, his voice muffled, every word spoken straight into your skin. 

“could stay here all night.”

the heat in your belly twists tighter at that, something about the way he says it, like he means it, like he’d ruin himself for this… for you. you’re already too close, and he knows it. he can feel it in the way your thighs tense, in the way your breath catches and your hips press up into him like you’re chasing something you can’t quite reach.  

he hums in satisfaction, his lips wrapping around that sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking just once, just enough to make your whole body jolt.

“god, jaem, i’m—” you don’t even finish the sentence before it hits you, crashing over you in waves so intense you forget how to breathe. you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth falling open on a silent cry as the pleasure hits you all at once, white-hot and overwhelming. he doesn’t let up, his tongue flicking against you through it, coaxing every last tremor from your body.  

your fingers find his hair, tugging hard, half to ground yourself and half to make him stop because it’s all too much. he groans at the pull, but it only seems to spur him on, his hands tightening on your hips, keeping you pressed against his mouth.

“jaemin,” you say it firmer this time, tugging again, and finally, finally he pulls back, his lips and chin shiny with evidence of what he’s done.

“couldn’t help myself,” he says, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth like he’s savoring every last bit of you. his eyes are wild, pupils blown wide, his hair a mess from where you tugged at it.  

“you look so pretty when you cum,” he says, voice low and husky, and you hate the way your heart lurches in your chest as if he’s just said something sweet.  

“you’re crazy,” you mutter, still catching your breath, wiping the sweat from your forehead.  

“crazy for you,” he fires back, grin widening like he knows how corny it is and says it anyway.  

and for some reason, it makes you laugh. a soft, breathy thing you can’t hold back. 

in one smooth motion, he’s crawling back up your body, his hands framing your face as he settles his weight over you. his lips press to yours, soft at first, then deeper, hungrier. reminding you exactly where that mouth has just been. you taste yourself on him, and it sends a fresh wave of heat through you.  

“not done with you yet,”  he says against your lips, his hips pressing down against yours, and fuck, you feel how hard he is, the thick, solid pressure pressing right where you need it.  

“then don’t stop,” your fingers slide down his back, nails scraping lightly.

he flashed a wicked grin, and before you could process it, you let out a startled squeal as he hoisted you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. his arms were firm around your legs, his shoulder pressing into your stomach, and you could feel the strength in every stride as he carried you from the living room to his bedroom. 

"jaemin!" you protested, your fists lightly tapping his back, but it only made him chuckle.

"keep squirming, baby. see where that gets you," he teased.  

he laid you down on the bed with surprising gentleness. the cool, fresh scent of his sheets surrounded you, soft fabric meeting warm skin. it was a fleeting comfort, though. you both knew they wouldn’t stay this neat for long. 

jaemin peeled off his shirt with one smooth motion, revealing the sharp lines of his chest and the taut muscles of his stomach. you bit your lip as he kicked off his sweatpants, leaving him in just his boxers. his gaze was locked on you, dark eyes brimming with heat and amusement, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.  

you watched mesmerized as he pulled open the drawer of his nightstand, fingers searching until they found a small foil packet. he ripped it open with practiced ease, and when the condom rolled out into his palm, your eyes widened. 

"that’s not the right size," you blurted out, half-laughing. "no way."  

his eyebrows lifted, a challenge sparking in his eyes. "oh? wanna bet?" 

then his boxers hit the floor.  

oh.  

your breath caught in your throat as your eyes dropped, taking in the sight of his dick. heat flooded your face. what the hell.

“close your mouth, baby,” he said, smirking. “unless you’re planning to put it to use.”  

"shut up," you muttered, glancing away, cheeks blazing. "are you gonna do it or not?"  

“do what?” he asked innocently, even as he climbed onto the bed, caging you in with his body. he hovered just above you, his grin infuriatingly smug.  

“you know what.”  

“hmm. don’t think i do,” he murmured, eyes dropping to your lips. “wanna say it for me, pretty girl?”  

you pressed your lips together, heart thudding in your chest harder every second. you could feel the weight of him, his warmth, the tension that hung in the air like a live wire.  

“fuck… me, jaem,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper.  

he tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “louder, baby. i know you can be louder.”  

he wasn’t wrong. flashes of earlier moments filled your mind, the way you were moaning and whimpering definitely wasn’t quiet. you swallowed the last bit of your hesitation.  

“fuck me. please.”  

he hummed, satisfied, his grin softening as he hooked his hands behind your knees and tugged you down toward him. you let out a quiet gasp, suddenly flat on your back, with him positioned directly above you. his body hovered just close enough that every shift of movement made you feel him.  

your eyes flickered up to his face, and for a second, he wasn’t teasing anymore. his gaze was steady, searching, his eyes dark but kind. he reached out, fingertips tracing your jawline with such tenderness it made you ache in a different way.  

“you okay, baby?” he asked softly, letting you know he’d stop everything if you said no.  

your heart swelled at the care in his voice.  

you nodded, fingers curling around his shoulders.  

he leaned in, close enough for his breath to fan across your face. “need words, love.”  

“i’m okay, jaem,” you said more firmly, gazing up at him. 

his eyes lingered on yours a moment longer before he nodded. he took a pillow and carefully placed it behind your lower back 

"good girl," he murmured.  

he shifted, his hands steady on your hips, grounding you as he lined himself up. the anticipation coiled tightly in your stomach, a nervous, thrilling buzz. you felt him prodding at your entrance, he swiped his tip up and down, the action made you clench in anticipation. he eased in, inch by inch, the stretch stealing every ounce of air from your lungs.  

his head dropped, forehead pressed against yours, jaw tense as his eyes squeezed shut. a soft curse left his lips. “fuck, so… so tight,” he groaned, his voice wrecked. his fingers dug into your hips, holding you still.

the moans spilling from your lips mixed with his name, coming out soft and unrestrained. every inch of him felt like too much, the kind of stretch that made your breath catch and your nails press into his shoulders. it had been so long since you'd had sex that you'd almost forgotten what it felt like, and even back then, no one had ever filled you like this. jaemin was thicker, longer, and the difference was impossible to ignore. 

"baby, if you keep squeezing me like that…" he laughed breathlessly, his fingers drawing slow, steady circles on your hip like he was trying to soothe you. “i might not make it all the way in.” 

“s’rry, you’re… just too big,” you muttered, voice coming out more wrecked than you intended. 

he bit down on his lip, eyes flicking down to where you were connected. the sight alone was about to undo him. "yeah?" he breathed, a little too satisfied with himself. his hand slid up, fingers pressing into your waist just a bit harder, grounding you in place as he pushed in deeper. 

the pressure was overwhelming, every slow inch making you feel like you might fall apart right there beneath him. and the deeper he went, the more you swore you wouldn’t last long. the tight, aching pull in your stomach was already coiling up, twisting tighter with every second.  

“you okay?” his voice was softer this time, the restraint obvious in how still he stayed once he’d finally bottomed out. his forehead pressed lightly to yours, lips hovering just close enough to brush your skin.  

“mhm,” you nodded quickly, legs shaking around him. 

“words, baby,” he said, and his fingers tilted your chin so you’d look at him. 

“i’m okay, jaem. just…just move, please,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.  

"since you asked so nicely," he said with a grin that was all teeth and trouble. his hands gripped your thighs, pulling them higher against his sides. his hips pulled back, just enough for you to feel every inch of him drag out slowly, before he pushed back in.

the breath punched out of you. you didn’t even have time to recover before he was doing it again, sharper, testing just how much you could handle. 

"god, you’re taking me so well, princess," he groaned, eyes flicking down to where your bodies connected. his hands slid up your sides, the warmth of his touch a sharp contrast to the way he was slamming into you. "like you were made for me." 

“jaem-” his name was the only thing you could manage, high-pitched and broken. your head tipped back against the pillows, eyes squeezing shut, but that only made everything feel sharper. 

“what's that?” he asked, voice rough as he leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over the corner of your mouth. "love it this much, huh?" 

you didn’t answer, didn’t need to. he could hear it in every shaky breath, feel it in the way your body reacted to him. 

his mouth was on yours a second later, messy and hot, his teeth dragging over your bottom lip before his tongue slid past it. he didn’t kiss you so much as claim you, taking everything you gave and then some. your fingers knotted in his hair, desperate for something to hold on to. the sounds between you were wet, frantic, each one making the coil in your stomach twist tighter. 

you were close… so, so close.

 but then he pulled away again, leaving you gasping at the sudden loss. before you could even think to complain, he grabbed your hips, flipping you over like it was nothing. your cheek pressed into the pillow, hips lifted, and you barely had a second to brace yourself before he was back inside you.

the first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs. it was deeper now, sharper, because he’d found a whole new spot to ruin you from. your fingers dug into the pillow, muffling the sounds spilling from your mouth, but even that wasn’t enough. the angle had you seeing stars, the kind of pressure that made your legs shake with every thrust. 

“feel that?” his voice was right at your ear, low and rough. “feels different, doesn’t it?” 

you nodded frantically, too gone to answer, but that wasn’t good enough for him. his hand slipped up, tangling in your hair, gently tugging you up just enough so he could hear you.  

“talk to me, baby.” his voice was a rasp now, barely hanging on. "tell me how it feels." 

“s’good…so good, jaem,” you gasped, words rushed and jumbled but still clear enough. "i’m- i’m gonna…”  

“go ahead, baby," he said, lips brushing against your ear before he bit down softly on your earlobe, making you jolt. "want you to cum for me." 

your whole body shuddered as the release crashed into you, slow and unrelenting, like a wave that just wouldn’t let up. it didn’t hit and fade away like usual — it lingered, making your muscles seize and tremble with every pulse. you felt boneless, your limbs heavy as you sagged against the bed, head turned to the side, cheek pressed into the pillow. jaemin stayed inside you, his grip on your hips loosening just slightly but his eyes stayed locked on you, dark and intent. you could feel him watching every little twitch of your body. 

“look at you,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “so pretty like this.” 

he eased out of you slowly, and the emptiness that followed had you sucking in a sharp breath. your thighs shook as you tried to press them together, but his were still on you, thumb brushing softly along your inner thighs admiring how your cum slid down your dripping core. 

you glanced down, lips parting at the sight. his cock was flushed, standing firm against his stomach, the condom showing nothing but a hint of precum mixed with the mess you’d left behind. a slow heat pooled in your belly again, your body already responding before your mind could catch up.  

“you didn’t—” you started, but the words dissolved in your throat, eyes flickering back up to meet his.  

you didn’t wait for him to say anything. your hand shot out, fingers curling around his wrist, and you tugged him forward. he followed easily, letting you pull him in close, his lips already parting like he was expecting a kiss. but just as he leaned in, you braced a hand on his chest and shoved him down flat on his back. 

“oh?” he breathed out a soft, surprised laugh, his eyes widening as his head hit the pillow. “what’s this, huh?”  

“shh,” you muttered, climbing over him, one leg swinging over his hips until you were straddling him. your palms flattened on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your hands. 

“bossy now, are we?” his grin stretched wider, his hands sliding up your thighs with a slow, deliberate touch. he squeezed just above your knees, fingertips pressing into your skin.  

“quiet,” you said leaning forward, your breath warm against his ear. “thought you’d like a girl who takes charge.” 

his head tipped back with a breathy laugh. “oh, i do,” he said, voice trailing off into a low hum as his eyes dipped to where your hips hovered just above him. “but i like it even more when she can keep up.” 

the corner of your mouth tugged up into a grin. “we’ll see,” you muttered, reaching between your bodies to wrap your hand around him. he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his whole body going rigid beneath you. even with just the faintest pressure of your hand, you could feel him twitch, his hips bucking up slightly. 

“s-sensitive,” he hissed, jaw tightening as he pressed his head back into the pillow. but he didn’t stop you, didn’t even try. if anything, his fingers dug harder into your thighs, holding you steady like he was afraid you’d pull away. 

“thought you could keep up,” you shot back, glancing up at him. his brows furrowed, his eyes squeezing shut for a second before they flickered back open. the teasing look on his face was gone now, replaced with something hungrier, more focused.  

you lined him up with you, heart thudding hard against your ribs. you’d done this before, but it felt different now… the weight of his eyes on you, the way his hands gripped you just a little tighter as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. the stretch was slow, inch by inch until you felt him fill you completely. 

“f-f—” his curse broke off into a low groan, his chest rising sharply as his hands slid up to your waist. “god, you’re—” he didn’t finish. couldn’t finish. his eyes screwed shut, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip so hard you thought he might draw blood.  

you braced your hands on his chest, fingers curling just slightly as you adjusted to the feeling. the heat in your core burned brighter, the ache of it twisting into something sharper, more desperate. you shifted your hips just a little, testing it, and the friction hit you so perfectly you gasped, nails digging into his chest.  

“you okay?” his voice was strained, barely more than a whisper, but there was a thread of concern woven through it. his eyes cracked open, heavy-lidded but focused on you.  

“mhm,” you nodded, breathless as you lifted your hips slowly, feeling every inch of him slide out before sinking back down just as slow. his head tipped back, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard, a low groan rattling from his chest. 

“yeah, just like that,” he muttered, his grip on you loosening as he let you set the pace. “take your time, pretty girl.” his words slurred just a little, as if he wasn’t fully in control of them anymore. “feels so…” his breath hitched, head tilting back against the pillow. 

his hands never stopped moving, though. they roamed up your waist, across your ribs until they found your boobs, they played there for a minute before sliding down to grip your thighs again. every time you dropped your hips, you watched the way his face twisted — brows pulling together, lips parting, his eyes half-lidded and glassy. his fingers twitched, his grip faltering like he wanted to touch you everywhere at once. 

“harder,” he breathed, his voice so quiet you almost missed it. his eyes flicked up to yours, gaze locked, lips parted and shiny with spit. “don’t hold back.”  

you bit your lip, grinning through the burn in your legs as you shifted your pace and started going faster. the sound of it echoed in the room and you felt the warmth building low in your belly again, tighter and tighter with every roll of your hips. 

“y-yeah, just like that,” he gasped, voice cracking, his eyes fluttering shut again. he pressed his head back, the veins on his neck on full display, and you watched the way his adam’s apple bobbed with every uneven breath. his hands slid to your hips, guiding you in sync with his shallow thrusts upward. the movement was messy, desperate, his body seeking more even as he tried to hold on.  

“gonna—” he bit out, breath hitching sharply. his eyes flew open, wild and unfocused as he stared at you like he wasn’t even sure what he was about to say. “gonna— oh, fuck—” 

“yeah?” you gasped, leaning forward, your hands braced against his chest, fingers curling into his skin. “feels good, hm?” 

he didn’t answer with words. he answered with his body, hips snapping up to meet yours, his fingers dragging down your back, hard enough to leave little streaks of heat in their wake. his breathing grew choppy, his body locking up beneath you as his grip on your waist turned bruising. 

“don’t stop,” he panted, his voice rough, broken. “don’t— oh, fuck.” 

you didn’t. not until you felt every last bit of him give in. his whole body went taut, muscles straining beneath you, his grip locking you in place as he let himself go. he groaned so deeply it sounded more like a growl, his breath hot against your neck as he pulled you down to him, holding you close.

“what’s the verdict, doctor?” you asked, tracing circles on his chest, still sat on top of him.  

“hm,” he hummed with his eyes still closed, lips tugging up at the corners as if he was fighting off a grin. “patient shows signs of extreme confidence. possible cause: being too good at driving me crazy.”  

you snorted, tilting your head to look at him. “is that your professional diagnosis?”  

“oh, absolutely,” he said, cracking one eye open to meet yours. “might need to run some more tests, though. you know, for accuracy.”  

“yeah?” you leaned in, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “what kind of tests, doctor?”  

his hands slid up your back, fingers splayed wide as they pressed you closer. “thorough ones,” he muttered, his voice rasping against your ear. “real hands-on approach.”  

“sounds serious,” you teased, letting your nails drag lightly down his chest. “hope your credentials check out.”  

“i’m overqualified, baby,” he breathed, tipping his head back against the pillow with a lazy grin. “let me show you.”

my inbox is always open for any comments about the fic!! thank you<3

[mortalityplays]

Forgive me if I'm mistaking you for another person, but I remember you speaking at multiple points on the unsustainability of free social media services (I think especially in response to the cohost collapse?), and I'm curious on what your thoughts on bluesky are so far. I'm not an expert on the subject, but from what I've read previously it seemed like they were on track to be financially sustainable, but I don't know if the recent floods of users has thrown those projections off. Sorry if I'm mixing you up with someone else on my timeline, in that case just ignore me.

bluesky will almost certainly follow the same trajectory of monetisation => bloat => enshittification => decline as every other major platform built on venture capital and user hoarding. it's a terrible model that only works in the short term as a mirage for attracting funding and making founders look good for a year or two before they sell.

you can see the same effect in the decline of all the subscription box services that came into vogue just before covid: they feel great to use for as long as the initial injection of venture funding lasts, because the purpose of that funding at that stage is to attract users and impress the next round of funders with how pleasant/intuitive/efficient/ethical/good value the service is. that's the stage where they're handing out freebies and bowling over influencers, and every ingredient in the box is fresh and high quality and locally sourced. wow what a good deal, what a great system!!! why hasn't anyone done this before? the answer is because it's unsustainable by design. they rack up good reviews, sign on a billion new users, attract new funding from a bunch of much more credulous investors, and then gut all of the expensive parts. portions get smaller, ingredients get worse, packaging gets flimsier, prices go up, freebies turn into "5% off your first 9 boxes when you invite 3 friends", and customer service vanishes.

with social media (and platforms like discord) the logic is the same, it's just a little less glaringly obvious to the end user because they're not coming home to leaking packages of rancid chicken on the doorstep. bluesky has an advantage over tiny operations like cohost because it was founded by a billionaire making a point for the sake of his own image. it got a really significant chunk of startup funding, and the owner had existing connections and rep in the space to attract more. That's why it has survived the goldrush period, why it still feels good to use, and why users who have been burned so many times before are finally accepting it as a stable, reliable option. It's still in its venture capital honeymoon phase where the only thing worth spending money on is making the service attractive to users.

What I expect we will see next, with another mass influx of users from twitter and new funding from a rogue's gallery of tech venture sickos led by Blockchain Capital is a strong ramp up into monetising that userbase. They've already been pretty forthright about how they plan to do this, and I think it's a solid roadmap of how Bluesky will bloat and decay over the next few years:

this is a huge lol. don't worry, we're not going to hyperfinancialize the social experience through NFTs. the thing even crypto freaks started feigning amnesia about a year ago. real "our health conscious sodas are 100% arsenic free" messaging here. They know perfectly well that rubes users are suspicious of their typical 5 dimensional tech finance chess games and are patting our hands about last week's bogeymen so nobody worries too hard about whatever 'decentralised developer ecosystem' just happens to be helmed by a bunch of crypto guys. this definitely means something good and based and not a google-like single sign on user data harvesting operation.

This is the same shit that's currently rotting the floorboards of discord. Bluntly, there is no way to run a platform on this scale without gating functionality behind paid services. Discord has been squeezing free-tier file uploads and call quality etc. down steadily and cranking up subscription costs over the last year or two, throwing in chaff like animated avatar frames to try and justify the user cost. They're also doing the same misdirection thing again here, pointing to Thing We All Hate to deflect from thing we might not like very much when they do it. Booo elon booo we all hate elon!!! wait how do we feel about subscription models again,

watch out for this to kill porn on bsky like it has killed porn on every other social platform 👍 boooo we hate elon boooo stupid idiot and his 'everything app' booooo wait why do you need my tax information, what's that about mastercard,

Look, we are all aware social media is a money pit. Let's not forget dorsey was looking to sell twitter in the first place, long before elon's very public plunge into total online derangement. Subscription services are not going to plug the hole, so we are gradually going to see more and more spaghetti thrown at the wall while early funders shuffle cards and do their pyramid scheme bit bringing in stupider and stupider investments. this is the window in which bluesky will be temporarily worth using for us, for the idiot public, the poorly rendered crowd jpegs in the background of their venture capital MOBA. it's in their interests to slow and pad the decline as much as possible, because that is how they get maximally paid.

Given the scale of the money involved, and dorsey's weird ego investment, I think bluesky will probably manage a controlled drift for a good few years before it gets really bloated and painful. and by then we will all be so used to the *checks notes* decentralised developer ecosystem that we'll just be posting through it, watching another generation of columnists call another collapsing platform 'their beloved hellsite' and passing around that meme about not getting out of our chairs no sir until idk we all get on a fediverse neurolink alternative to stick it to the elongated muskrat and our brains pop peacefully in our sleep. which I guess is the closest thing to viability any social media platform can achieve.

anyway diogenes the cynic is also on bluesky

[thewidowsledger]

The Call

Chapter 3: 7 Minutes in Heaven | 7.5k

© thewidowsledger - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Summary: You were supposed to take her out—the infamous Black Widow—Natasha Romanoff. The S.H.I.E.L.D. has been keeping an eye on her for a while now and for some reason, another high-ranking agent as you was sent to get the mission done. But then, he made a different call leading the mission to be here in front of you, soon to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

Pairings: Ex-Russian Agent Natasha Romanoff x Senior S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: 18+, fluff, sparring, jealousy, triggering Natasha's trauma, asshole Daisy, yummy awkward Nat, sexual innuendos, flirting, dirty talk, praising, Natasha making r make inappropriate sounds😩🤪 kissing

Author's Note: Based on my own experience but I changed it a bit, lol. Enjoy, I'll see you when I see you :)))

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

“Johnson was there in her office.”

“What?!” Yelena shot back.

“She had flowers with her.” Natasha added not sure if she should say it now that she knows how Yelena will overreact.

“What?!” Yelena exclaimed again as she palmed her forehead, “What are they talking about? Did you hear?” she added in a rush. “No, she asked her to leave when I came in.”

“That's good, that's good.” Yelena said, trying to calm herself or gaslight herself rather.

Natasha posed a question that left Yelena stunned, “Do…do you think Y/N still has feelings for her?”

“She told me she's over it and I’m making sure that it really is.”

Natasha just nodded slowly pulling the sleeves of her pink shirt up to her shoulders innocently, “I’ll go get some water.”

“Sure, sure,” Yelena tried to hide the devilishly smile naturally forming in her face but as soon as Natasha walked away, she aggressively tapped Madisynn’s thigh.

“Aw!” Madisynn swatted Yelena's hand away.

“Do you know what's on my mind right now?” Yelena asked the girl who was dumbly tilting her head at her. But Yelena gave her a knowing look that made the girl’s head light like a bulb.

“Oh, I think I do know what's on your mind,” she said as she looked at your figure walking towards them. “Hi boss!” She greeted in a squeal.

You looked at the two confusingly not liking the evil faces they're making right now. “Okay, enough of that look. Stop grinning at me, you both look like a pervert.”

“Foul!”

“You're so mean!”

“Where's…Agent Romanoff?” You asked ignoring their whines and you wished it came off casually. But the two agents only grinned once again at your question, you immediately caught their reactions and you crossed your arms at them waiting for an answer.

“There she is!” Madisynn pointed behind you, her nails never failing to flex.

You immediately turn to see Natasha, her shirt sleeves rolled up to her shoulders and her biceps were godly…you thought to yourself. If only you knew the two agents caught you checking Natasha out.

“We haven't done anything yet but it's working already.” Madisynn whispered to the blonde.

“I know, I know. This is gonna be so much fun.”

⧗

The team-building event got off to a great start. All the agents were thoroughly enjoying themselves as they played various games together. Shouting, clapping, laughing here and there, it was a sight to see and it was a fun experience. Could you imagine that these agents were trained to save the world but right now they're trying to balance plastic cups on their heads? It was the only time when the entire agency came together to unwind and have some fun and be free with themselves while simultaneously strengthening their bonds with each other.

Many teams had already been eliminated, but thankfully, yours was still in the running for the game. You heard Yelena taking charge and leading your team as if they were on a real mission, you couldn't help but burst into a fit of giggles.

“Okay you idiots, balloon bust, the instruction is very easy we’ve done this last last year guys. We just have to keep the balloon up on our stomach, no dropping, no popping. Be gentle with the balloon,” she relayed, as if it was a serious mission. “It’s our baby!” she clapped between each word.

The team just nodded eagerly cheering themselves as they went to grab their own balloons. You hyped your team up by giving them thumbs up and a lot of claps.

Your gaze shifted towards Natasha and you observed how she seemed a little lost throughout the game. Yet, she hadn't lost her endearing smile the entire time. She has been asking Yelena over and over on how she's supposed to play in each game, on how she is going to contribute to win and Yelena has been nothing but patient towards her, guiding her and giving her tasks on what to do.

The thought hit you then, it is her first time experiencing something like this. Her entire life she was used to working alone. You knew her past, of course you do. You know how she hadn't had the luxury of playing with dolls, teddy bears, and make-up like you had. Instead, she had spent her childhood toying with real guns, learning to crack codes on computers, and mastering the art of physical combat that if she fails every time—she’ll end up tied up in a cell or eat no food for days.

She was too young for that, she was supposed to be protected—no kid deserves that.

As you stared at Natasha, a pang of pain gripped your heart. You watched as she laughed when she saw Yelena huffing in frustration after her balloon popped. Your entire team had given up, and all of them just ended up bursting into laughter, lying on the ground.

Your team ran back at you, waiting for the next game. Natasha was still giggling her life out, shaking Yelena's shoulder.

“Hey Romanoff, water?” she was the first one you offered water.

When she looked stunned and didn't respond, you chuckled faintly, which seemed to make her even more surprised.

“C'mon, take it before I take it back,” you urged and Natasha quickly snatched the bottle from your hand. As you handed out the water to the rest of your team, you couldn't help but notice the adorable blush spreading across her cheeks.

You watched Natasha as she gulped down the entire water in the bottle in one go. You were fixated on her neck, watching the way her throat moved with each gulp. She had chugged it down so quickly, like it was just a matter of three quick swallows. The sight of her holding onto the empty bottle, squeezing it tightly, was doing strange things to you. As you continued to observe Natasha, a warmth crept up your face.

“Hey, boss, we need you for the next game.” Yelena informed behind you, pulling you out of your trance.

“Me?” You turned to look at her as you pointed to yourself as if you weren't just checking out the redhead.

“Yeah, it's three-legged race. We're only five,” she shrugged innocently but in the back of her head she’s plotting something.

“You're my partner,” you immediately told her.

“Nuh uh, Nat’s your partner. You're almost the same height though she's taller than you. Madisynn and I have the same height so…” Before you could even protest further, Yelena tightly grasped your wrist and forcefully dragged you towards Natasha. As you approach her, you catch sight of her lifting her shirt to wipe some sweat from her forehead, revealing a glimpse of her well-toned abs.

You had seen all her muscular frame in all its glory for today.

“Where's your ribbon Nat?” Yelena asked. As Natasha hesitantly handed it to Yelena, Yelena pushed you down, causing you to yelp. Before you realized what was happening, Natasha was also pushed down and you found yourselves side by side. The blonde then knelt down in front of both you and Natasha, preparing to bind your legs together.

Yelena smirked mischievously as she observed the scene in front of her, her task completed, “Perfect!” she exclaimed before walking back in front of your team’s line. You and Natasha were left stunned, your bodies pressed close together.

“Are you okay?” She asked quietly, tugging her sleeves down, embarrassed at how sweaty she was, “You're tight?” Realizing how she worded the question Natasha immediately palmed her face looking the other way, “I mean no-not t-tight for you?”

You didn't miss the curse that came after that.

“I’m fine, you?” you replied, not bothering the silly, nasty, cute mistake and tried to sound authoritative. She just gave you a thumbs up and put both her arms on her knees.

An awkward silence hung in the air after your brief exchange, until the shrill sound of a whistle pierced through, signaling the start of the race.

Darcy, the designated emcee for the day, called out, her voice echoing through the area, “Are the teams ready for the race?” A twinkle danced in her eyes as she added, “Did you know that they say 80% of the paired players for this game usually end up together?”

Yelena leaned over to Madisynn and muttered, a mischievous smile on her face, “Darcy definitely knows the assignment.” Madisynn smirked in agreement, seemingly in on the unspoken plan they had in mind and nodded.

However, you and Natasha missed the playful comment because you were too focused on planning your strategy for the race.

“Coordination, Natasha okay?” You reiterated and she agreed, her cheeks turning a slight shade of red. Natasha felt a different kind of warmth as you spoke to her with a gentle tone, different from your usual cold and robotic tone. And the way you called her by her first name sent a flutter through her heart.

Daisy stood at a distance, her eyes locked on you and Natasha as you talked. She clenched her fist tightly, not liking how close you were to the red head.

A shrill whistle pierced the air once again, signaling the start of the race and a chorus of cheers and shouts echoed loudly as the first pair sprinted off, kicking up dust and sand behind them.

Sensing a bit of struggle on Natasha's part, you offered, “You can hold onto my shoulder if that'll make it easier for you.”

Natasha nodded appreciatively, her left arm about to reach for your shoulders when she surprised you by gently taking your right arm instead. She positioned it around her back, creating a more intimate position as you both clung to each other for support. The unexpected action caused you to blush and you found yourself pulled closer to her as Yelena and Madisynn handed you the flag, signaling your turn to start.

As you began the race, the mood was lighthearted, filled with laughter and giggles. You started off good, however, just as things seemed to be going well, you suddenly tripped and lost your balance, causing you to stumble forward. But Natasha was quick to hold you back, grabbing you by the waist, preventing you from falling forward. In the process, your hands inadvertently landed on her abdomen, seeking support.

“That was really stupid,” you manage to say between giggles.

“You're fine, we’re close c’mon,” Natasha encouraged sheepishly, her response catching you off guard as it was the first time she had talked to you again this entire game.

“Left, right, left…”

You and Natasha continued with the race, Yelena and your team eagerly watched and cheered from the sidelines, supporting you every step of the way. They shouted encouragement and teasing comments.

“I am going to tie you both for life!” Yelena exclaimed.

“Fall for Nat, boss! She’ll catch you!”

“Don't get too tangled up now!”

As you dashed towards the finish line, an unexpected trip caused you to falter—again. Natasha's quick reflexes kicked in once again. Her hand moved swiftly to support your head, preventing it from hitting the surface with a thud. She acted instinctively, shielding you from further harm. With a soft thump, you found yourself on the ground and Natasha was now on top of you. Her right hand holding the back of your head, her body hovering over yours.

Natasha's gaze remained fixed on you as you burst into a fit of laughter, lying on the floor. She couldn't help but marvel at the sight before her, no cold voice just your laughter filling the air. No hint of seriousness on your face, your unguarded expression and carefree attitude were delightful to behold.

As you continued to lie on the ground, laughing uncontrollably, you didn't notice Daisy appearing and giving Natasha a push from the sides. This unexpected shove caused Natasha to stumble and fall beside you, landing rather clumsily on the ground.

“Get away from her.”

“Fuck off, Daisy,” Yelena snapped coldly as she shoved Daisy away, Madisynn immediately knelt in front of you and Natasha to untie the ribbon.

Daisy was already back in her team’s position when you got up, her team trying to soothe her. Natasha saw you looking at Daisy’s direction as if you were checking on her—on your ex-fiance.

“Y/N…I’m sor—”

“I’m sorry about that Romanoff, are you okay?” you turned to her and touched her arm which made the redhead shudder.

Back with the last name basis now?

“I-I’m fine boss.” She stuttered, stunned at your apology. She scratched the back of her neck as she looked away but looking away wouldn't hide the redness of her face.

“Piece of advice, please don't interact with her,” you gave her a half smile tapping her arm twice before shouting to your team.

“Get up! Get up!”

⧗

The sudden news hit you like a flash. One of your agents had accepted a sparring challenge from a senior of another division. It is one of the activities your team-building events often took as a competitive edge.

You realized from the start that you had forgotten to remind your team not to participate. But it was a well-established rule that shouldn't need to be constantly reiterated, the sparring challenges were typically reserved for the more seasoned members, the oldies of the agency—the seniors and Natasha isn't one.

“Fucking hell.” You hissed, striding towards the area where the sparring match was taking place, “Romanoff is really testing my patience.”

How come that you were really soft with the agent earlier and now? You're back being a meanie to her?

Yelena tried to defend her partner, her voice a squeak. “She didn't know!” she protested. “She's only been here a few months. She's clueless and her senior isn't even making things easy on her.”

You were seething with anger as you heard Yelena's words. You halted in your tracks and turned around, your gaze locking onto the blonde, who suddenly looked like a frightened child under your intense stare. You fought to regulate your breathing, trying to maintain your composure. Deep down, you knew that Yelena had a point. Her words were stinging because they held a measure of truth. Yet, your ego couldn't help but bristle at the audacity of her calling you out like that.

The sound of raucous cheering jolted you back to reality, you pushed the door swinging open with a harsh creak, you felt a sudden wave of attention directed your way. Numerous agents turned their heads in your direction. It was obvious that your arrival had caused a ripple of interest amongst the crowd. Well, let's just say that the opponent that your agent is fighting is none other than your ex-fiance.

“Fucking hell.” You muttered to yourself as you balled your fists.

You hate her for being so naive…but god, she is now positioned in the ring and greeted you with an innocent wave. The protective mouthguard showed as she tried to smile. How are you supposed to hate that?

Despite your anger towards her naivety you managed to wave back but she wasn't able to see it as your ex-fiance landed a punch on her face, you involuntarily flinched and placed a palm on your forehead. Well, that was awkward.

“Get her Romanoff!” Yelena shouted from behind, you swear you heard her betting $20 for Natasha.

“She was supposed to take you out,” Daisy growled at the redhead, her boxing gloves poised to deliver another punch anytime.

Natasha furrowed her brows together but she didn't mind what Daisy was trying to say. Natasha seized an opening and threw a punch on her sides, catching Daisy off guard and regaining the upper hand in the fight. The impact sent Daisy stumbling back a few steps, momentarily stunned by the unexpected offensive move. But then a smirk creeped out on her face.

“You're supposed to be history by now if it wasn't by Barton.” Daisy's words, though meant to rile Natasha up, seemed to be taking effect now. “If it was Y/N, you’d be dead by now.”

Natasha's breath hitched at the revelation and Daisy saw the horror that flashed into the redhead's eye. Natasha clenched her jaw and squeezed her eyes shut.

Rule number 1: Never take your eye away from your opponent.

Another wave of cheers and shouting from the crowds surrounded the boxing ring as Natasha seized another opportunity, throwing another punch this time connecting with Daisy's cheek. It seemed as if Daisy was deliberately allowing Natasha to land blows, letting her get a few hits in. No, letting her hit her.

You stood there, frozen. You are really not liking this.

You saw Daisy's lips moving, clearly as if she was saying something to Natasha. While you also noticed how the redhead’s body tensed up and you saw her focus seemed to be shaken a little.

“Dreykov’s daughter?” You whispered to yourself as you read the words coming out of Daisy's lips. The redhead tried to throw another punch but Daisy was able to dodge it sending back a punch to Natasha's stomach.

“I won't let Y/N be with a killer like you.”

The words made Natasha’s emotions reach a breaking point, as if something snapped inside her she immediately moved forward encircling her arm around Daisy's neck locking in a tight grip. She then swung her other fist at Daisy, her boxing glove landing a powerful punch on her face as she kept her arm locked around her. The impact sent Daisy kneeling while Natasha stood behind her not letting her go, causing gasps and murmurs from the surrounding crowd.

The referee blew his whistle with a sharp, shrill sound, which echoed through the ring. He then extended his arm and pointed directly at Natasha, who had staggered backward losing her hold on Daisy.

Daisy recovered from the forceful blows, she rose unsteadily to her feet, her left eye was swollen and there was a cut on her lips. She let out a guttural snarl and stalked Natasha who was crawling backwards, Daisy leaned down to her and yelled, “Are you tryna kill me, too? Huh?!”

“You fucking kill—”

“Watch your next words Johnson!” You yelled as you ran and jumped towards the ring.

“Y/N she went out with the rules! She…she almost—” Daisy stopped when she saw you kneel in front of Natasha.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha immediately whispered. You furrowed your brows at her.

“Romanoff…”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” her voice became hoarse as she repeatedly whispered. As she continued to apologize, you stared into her eyes, noticing a look in them that revealed something deeper than mere regret. It was as though a hidden trigger had been set off within her.

“Romanoff…” you called out to her again.

“I’m sorry, Y/N…I—” she choked.

“Nat,” you called softly as you brought your hands on her cheeks. Her lips trembled as she finally looked at you, “You're okay,” you gave her a smile and she nodded slowly as if she was high with the sound of your gentle voice and your soft feathery touch.

As if she was an evil and you were an angel attempting to soothe her troubled soul.

“Yelena,” you summoned the blonde over. You removed the gloves on her hands and Natasha's gaze remained fixed on your every move, her eyes never straying as if she feared losing this connection between you—it was the closest she's been with you. Her breath hitched when you moved away to give Yelena a way to help Natasha stand. Yelena knelt in front of her and propped her up with a supportive arm around her shoulder.

You watched as Natasha and Yelena slowly moved out of the ring and away from the center of attention.

You ex-fiance, who stood surrounded by her team members from her division, remained surprisingly calm. She has been watching how you treated Natasha and she didn't like it—she wanted to tear you away from her.

You stepped up closer to her, your voice low and filled with venom as you spat out, “You know she was a new recruit and you still challenged her.”

“Oh Y/N we all know she's more than just a recruit.”

You huffed at her words, you couldn't hold the outrage any longer and you hissed back, “You think I didn't notice? You triggered my agent!” Your voice trembled in anger. “Dreykov's daughter? Really? You would bring that up? How did you even know about that?” You started eyeing each of her team who were looking down to try and avoid your gaze. You know damn well that they know something about it. You huffed on how pathetic they looked.

Natasha's information was kept under you since she was your mission back then. No one could access this information unless they possessed the same level of clearance and security clearance as you did as a level 7 S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

Dreykov's daughter was the collateral damage to end Dreykov himself, to end the empire he built that brought horrors to the lives of young little girls. It was the last thing Natasha did before getting into the S.H.I.E.L.D. with the help of Clint.

You turned your gaze back to Daisy who is now looking down too. “Daisy…” you squeezed your eyes shut, “I forgave you for what you did to us,” you gulped as you tried to hold your tears at bay, you couldn't even utter the words that would bring up the memory of her betrayal. That she cheated.

The silence that had fallen over the entire room was almost deafening and you could feel the weight of everyone’s gaze bearing down to the both of you. You’ve had so much attention today already.

“Please stop going out of your way for this. Stop embarrassing yourself, you look desperate.” With that, you immediately stepped out the ring leaving her, she tried to go after you but her team immediately held her back.

⧗

After reading the text from Yelena, you can't believe it - they're still planning on going to the after-party after what just went down. You can feel the frustration rising inside you, almost boiling over as you read the message again.

“Please, Y/N join us, we’re all here with Natasha. She’s okay now but she's got bruised lippie though.”

“If you're scared that earthquake’s gonna be here, no she's not, so please join us here boss.”

Yelena then sent a video after she noticed that all her messages were just marked as seen by you. It's your team whining in the background, begging you to come to the party, but your gaze was fixated on Natasha's face on the screen. She waved shyly, her bruised lips forming a tight-lipped smile, the sight just making you sigh disappointingly before getting out of your car.

As you made your way into the party, you were relieved to find that most eyes were averted from you. You had been expecting a similar scene as the one earlier when you confronted your ex-fiance, but it seemed that the focus was on other things now. Maybe they're tired of the drama you had with her.

You spotted your team at a table near the bar, a few drinks already in front of them. They looked up as you approached, welcoming you with broad grins.

Yelena was the first one to greet you with a sly smile, acting as if nothing had happened earlier. “Well, look who decided to show up,” she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Here, let me help you with that.”

Before you could protest, Yelena had taken your purse and was leading you to a seat at their table. She pulled out the chair for you, gesturing for you to sit down.

Madisynn who was next to you, slurred slightly, a sure sign that alcohol had definitely gotten into her system already. She stumbled over to you, her eyes lighting up as she turned and saw you. Her gaze lingered on you for a second before realizing it's you, her voice was slightly slurred as she exclaimed, “Boss! I'm so happy to see you. You look hella sexy in that dress! Right, Romanoff?!”

Natasha, who had been quiet until now, spoke up timidly. “Yeah, you look…” she trailed off, careful on what to say, you really looked sexy right now. The way that your black dress hugged your body and highlighted your curves, but she didn't want to sound perverted

“Beautiful,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

Yelena leaned in closely, her lips hovering mere centimeters from your ear. She looked at Natasha before whispering, loud enough for the redhead to hear, “I think you look delicious right now, Y/N.”

She then playfully nipped at your earlobe with her teeth, a sly smirk on her face. The brief contact sent a shiver down your spine. Yelena was never one to hold her tongue, she didn't have a filter and often spoke her mind without thinking.

You however, decided to play along with Yelena's antics, you faced her with a coy smile. Your faces were now mere inches apart, and you could see a hint of redness creeping up on Yelena's cheeks.

For a moment, it seemed like she was taken aback by your boldness, but then she regained her composure. Still, she couldn't help but back down slightly, her gaze lingering on your face before quickly looking away. You smirked as Yelena visibly backed down, her confidence faltering for a moment. Deciding to tease her further, you leaned in even closer and said, “What's wrong, Yelena? I thought I looked delicious.”

Natasha watched the exchange between you and Yelena, her eyes narrowing slightly. She hadn't realized just how close you were with Yelena, and it made her shift a little awkwardly in her seat.

A pang of jealousy flared up within her, but she quickly pushed it down. It was none of her business who you chose to be close to even if it's with her closest friend, and besides she had no right to feel possessive over you. Not when you hate her.

Not when you were supposed to be the one to take her out.

Still, the sight of Yelena being so flirtatious with you made her feel a little bothered. She found herself coughing involuntarily. It was an unexpected reaction, and she quickly tried to cover it up with a sip of her drink.

Yelena caught sight of Natasha and a sly grin spread across her face. She exchanged a glance with Madisynn in a brief second enough for you and Natasha not to notice.

“You okay, Romanoff?” The blonde asked, as she wrapped her hands on your waist, you on the other hand leaned to the blonde—not aware of the antics that she and Madisynn planned.

You were comfortable with Yelena's closeness, having known her for a long time and having shared many experiences together. She was like a strict baby sister, the type of sister that would ask you who you were with and what time you would be back. And If anyone hurt you, she wouldn't hesitate for a second to go after them. Her protective nature went into overdrive, and she would hunt down whoever had caused you pain. She cares for you and she would go far to keep you safe.

She had been there for you during tough times, like when Fury had to call her to make you come out to your childhood bedroom after your ex-fiance cheated on you or when she had to clean your room after she finally get you out to eat at the dinner table with your father. She had seen you smile because of your ex but she saw you cry more about her. Tough and good times, she had been there—always.

You yourself look out for her too—she can be careless at times so you gently correct her when she crosses the line or make sure she doesn't get into too much trouble. But at the same time, you also relied on her quirky sense of humor and unwavering support. She was part protector, part best friend, and part sibling all rolled into one.

“Let's play medusa y’all!” An agent shouted in the distance and it made you laugh.

“What are we? In college?” You huffed after, only to be dragged by Yelena.

“We’re joining!” Your eyes widened in disbelief and attempted to pull away from her grip, wanting nothing to do with this childish game. But just as you were about to tear yourself away, Madisynn suddenly latched onto your other arm, effectively trapping you. You were too confused when you noticed that Yelena was gone and Madisynn replacing her as if it was all planned.

“This will be fun boss, c’mon.” She slurred with a drink on her other hand.

You forgot to breathe as you saw Daisy across the room, conflicting emotions bubbled up within you, how in the hell she's here and you didn't even know?

Part of you wanted to run away from the room to escape the memories of her betrayal. But another part of you, driven by your desire to maintain your composure and dignity, compelled you to stay and keep things professional after what she did to you and to your agent.

But…a small, a sly part of you, tucked away in a hidden corner of your mind, whispered a tempting thought.

What if I make her jealous?

The idea was a little petty and you knew it, but you couldn't help the flicker of satisfaction it brought you. The chance to show Daisy that you were doing just fine without her, perhaps even better, was tantalizing.

But with who?

As various agents approached you with smiles, greetings or drinks, a wave of realization washed over you. Deep down, you knew this whole thing was ridiculous. Trying to find someone to make out with solely to make your ex jealous was a far cry from the person you aspired to be.

You shook your head slightly, silently scolding yourself for even contemplating such a childish idea. This whole situation was just plain stupid, however, despite the logical part of your brain telling you it was a stupid, a small, defiant part of you still wanted to go through with it.

If only you had known, but you were oblivious to the fact that Daisy had been burning with jealousy since the moment she spotted you with Natasha during the game.

Darcy, with her usual enthusiasm, called out to the group of agents gathered around you, “Alright, everybody! Form a circle, it's time to start!” She then saw you and let out a squeal, “Hi boss!”

You waved shyly before you settled down on the cold floor of the room with Madisynn beside you, “Where's Romanoff?” You asked, “and Yelena…” You rushed out. Madisynn then gestured with her drink, drawing your attention to the direction she was pointing. There, across from you, sat the redhead and the blonde.

Yelena had made sure that you and Natasha were seated directly across from each other, perfectly setting up the game of Medusa to play out exactly how she had planned.

“Alright, everybody!” Darcy shouted, getting the group's attention. “Everyone sit in a spot where you can see all of the other players.”

Once the group had taken their seats, she continued, “Now, each of you put your heads down. On the count of three, you'll raise your heads and stare directly at someone else. If you lock eyes with someone, both of you lose, and I will yell 'Medusa' if I caught y’all staring at each others’ asses and I will be sending you to 7 Minutes in Heaven!”

The agents began shouting and whistling, creating a chaotic atmosphere, hyped up from the game.

With a flourish of her hand, Darcy counted down, “Three, two, one.”

Everyone raised their heads, and you were suddenly faced with a sea of staring eyes. You quickly darted your eyes to an agent who was luckily not staring at you. The room buzzed with tension as people nervously tried to avoid locking gazes with the other players. Darcy stood in the center, ready to call out the first pair of victims. Her eyes scanning the group, spotted a pair that had locked eyes with each other. A sly grin spread across her face as she called out, “Medusa!”

The two unfortunate players were singled out and a chorus of “ooo” and whistles erupted from those around them. They sheepishly got up, blushing as they made their way toward the 7 Minutes in Heaven.

As the players shuffled off to the 7 Minutes in Heaven room, the game continued. It was only a matter of time before another pair would be called out for staring. You found yourself becoming more nervous as the round progressed.

Darcy's eyes glinted mischievously as she scanned the group once more, eagerly awaiting her next opportunity to pounce on a paired set of victims.

You were contemplating your strategy. And thought of Natasha, part of you knew that Natasha was averse to staring, always quick to look away—especially on you. But this might work to your advantage.

As the countdown ended, you found yourself staring at Natasha. She, as expected, was not looking at you. However, your heart raced when you noticed her eyes on someone else in the group. You furrowed your brows, trying to follow her line of sight to see who she's staring at.

Who was she looking at? Is she eyeing someone else? Oh, how you hoped that whoever she's staring at isn't looking back at her too.

You finally let yourself breathe, a wave of relief washing over you as Darcy called out “Medusa,” pointing at the pair who had been caught staring at each other. Thankful that it wasn't Natasha and whoever she's staring at, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders.

As Natasha navigated her way through the game, a plan formed in her mind. She glanced over at you, contemplating the likelihood of making eye contact with you. Her thoughts ran through her head, reasoning that you wouldn't look at her because you harbored a deep dislike for her—who would lock eyes on someone they hate, after all?

Natasha glanced around the room full of agents, her gaze falling upon Daisy, who was watching you as giggles escaped your lips at whatever Madisynn was whispering to you. The sight of your ex continuously eyeing you only made Natasha wish that you wouldn't look at your her the same way again as you did when you were still together.

She wished that you would look at her—this time.

“3”

“2”

“1”

You find yourself staring at the green orbs staring right back at you and the world seemed to stopped only for it to continue when Darcy shouted Medusa, her fingers pointed decisively at you and Natasha.

A collective gasp filled the room as everyone realized what had just taken place. Darcy's gleeful expression revealed her satisfaction at having caused this unexpected twist. Madisynn and Yelena traded smug grins, thrilled to see their plan unfolding flawlessly. They had orchestrated this moment carefully and their plans had paid off.

As word spread about your unexpected pairing with Natasha, your ex, Daisy, couldn't help but glance your way. She tried to hide her fueling rage, but her emotions were laid bare in her eyes. A lot of agents were looking her way too, satisfied at her reaction and silently rooting for Natasha.

Madisynn placed a gentle hand on your shoulders, helping you stand up from being seated on the floor. Your mind was still reeling from the sudden turn of events, unable to fully grasp what was happening. As you looked at the small cabinet not so far away from of you, the realization of who you would be sharing such a confined space with finally sank in.

“Times ticking boss.” Darcy whispered as she gently held your hands and pulled you. Meanwhile, Natasha was being ushered ahead by Yelena. Yelena then pushed Natasha gently into the small chamber, causing her to stumble forward slightly as she made her way into the cramped space. The room was dimly lit, its walls closed, not enough to leave little room to maneuver.

Natasha looked up as you stood just outside the small chamber. She saw how hesitant you are and she spoke up softly, “If you don't want this, you don't have to.” Her voice was gentle, giving you the option to back out of the situation if you so desired.

But you didn't listen to her, you immediately climbed into the small room and found yourself sitting beside the redhead. Before you had a chance to process the tight space, the door closed with a distinct click, sealing you inside with her.

Darcy's voice echoed from the other side of the door, she knocked, reminding that your time starts now, “Alright, lovebirds, 6:59 minutes. Enjoy your time there!” Her amusement was evident, and her words were followed by a series of giggles and shouts heard in the distance.

As Natasha hugged her knees and said, “We don't need to do anything,” she did so with a sense of finality, as if speaking aloud the thoughts that were already in your head. She already assumed you wouldn't want to do anything in this tiny-spaced room.

You haven't really scolded her for accepting the challenge from your ex and for going in here when she's supposed to be resting, you wanted to, though, but seeing her right now at this moment, you just couldn't bring yourself to.

You broke the silence, your words reverberating in the small chamber. “We can talk,” you suggested softly—too softly, your fingertips grazing the ceiling inches above your head. You asked once again, “Do you want to talk about something?”

Natasha sat silently, her eyes locked on the door as if she just wanted all this to be over, and for a moment, she didn't respond to your question. The quietness in the tiny space seemed to stretch on and her lack of response left you unsure of how to continue—so you just stayed silent too.

A couple of minutes have passed and you two just sat there. The silence between you was heavy, almost unbearably so, until Natasha finally spoke.

“Do you think you would make the same decision as Clint,” she started, her voice soft yet steady, “if you were the one sent to take me out?”

You were taken aback by Natasha's question, her words piercing through any facade you may have tried to maintain. How did she know about it? Panic and anger surged through you as you thought of the only person who could have told her the about it—intentionally told her. But you quickly pushed that thought aside, realizing it was a moot point now. The dilemma of how to respond to her question left you momentarily tongue-tied.

Would you? You asked yourself.

“I…” you trailed off, “I don't know.”

You took a deep breath, your voice low and steady as you finally admitted the truth. “Everything happens for a reason, Romanoff,” you began, your words measured, you’ve never been like this when you were talking to her. You’ve always been so honest, no, harsh when it comes to her, “It was originally my mission to take you out.”

“But Clint was the one sent with the same mission, you.” You sighed disappointingly as you recall the memory.

“I was upset, bitterly disappointed, angry.” You looked down at your thighs plopping sideways, “I immersed myself in studying you, devoting significant time understanding your every move, training myself on how to…” you stopped realizing what the next words would be, but Natasha knew what it was you’ve been trying to say.

You’ve been training yourself on how to eliminate her—to kill her.

There was a silence between the two of you again, not heavy this time, you leaned back against the cold wall and squeezed your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again.

“He made a different call for a reason.”

Natasha looked at you intently as you spoke again, “He saw something in you. And I think I do see that now.” You finally looked at her.

As you locked gazes, your eyes involuntarily fixated on her bruised lips, and you were certain that she was doing the same. However, the intensity of the moment became too palpable and you found yourself awkwardly turning your eyes away from her in an attempt to alleviate the growing tension.

“Boss, are you still alive in there?” You heard Darcy call out, how dare she ask if you were the one still alive? If there is someone supposed to be out of breath right now, it would be the redhead beside you. “You still got 2 minutes…and 32!”

“I wonder what other agents did in this room.” You suddenly spoke, but you didn't mean it to come out as if you were trying to hint to do the same thing you know agents did in this tight room which is releasing some sexual frustrations. “Gross.” You then whispered that made the redhead laugh.

“Yeah, I think they really need that.” She replied in a low voice, trying not to burst into more giggles.

“Wow, aren't you sexually frustrated too Agent Romanoff?” Maybe now you are hinting something.

Her voice echoed through the small space as she quipped, “I don't wanna get another punch from your ex.”

“You wouldn't catch a punch for me? Agent Romanoff?” you teased, your seductive tone adding an extra layer to the already charged atmosphere between you two.

Only if you know the things she would do and take for you.

“Trying to make your ex jealous?”

“Hm?” you eyed her before focusing with the necklace around your neck, fiddling with it absentmindedly as you avoided the redhead’s accusation when suddenly, her hands reached out and pinched your waist.

The action caught you off guard and an unintentional gasp escaped your lips. At that moment, Yelena's voice echoed through the door, as she whisper-shout, “What was that?!”

“What was that for?!” You quickly slapped Natasha's arm in retaliation, causing her to exaggerate a groan of pain that was heard outside.

“Oh god, it's happening. Shit! Shit!” Yelena exclaimed, apparently unable to contain her excitement. A chorus of shouts and whistles erupted from the agents gathered just outside the door, their reactions evident even through the thick boundary.

The situation was too absurd to not find amusing and you struggled to contain your laughter. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth, attempting to hide the impending giggles and shock at the chaos happening outside. You looked over at Natasha, you found her wearing a smirk. She then gestured for you to tap on the walls and you followed her lead, making a moaning sound as you did.

“Oh god!” you exclaimed, feigning a sense of ecstasy, playing into the moment and the reactions you knew you were eliciting from the agents outside.

“Oh god?!” Yelena and Madisynn shouted in chorus, “Praise the Lord!”

As you continued your act, Natasha suddenly spoke, her voice low and seductive. “Oh yeah?” she purred, “Mhm, yeah. That's my good girl,” she murmured, the praise and the nickname making you feel and think inappropriate things right now. 

Is this even appropriate?

Both you and Natasha released synchronized grunts and moans, intentionally creating the illusion of some... passionate act.

As your performance continued, you could hear Yelena's voice rise above the others, “Romanoff, if you hurt Y/N, I swear I'll chop you into tiny pieces!” Yelena threatened. “42 sex-onds!” she reminded in a rush.

“Get on my lap,” you hadn't even realized what you were doing until you found yourself sitting sideways on Natasha's lap, your tight dress not allowing you to straddle her but you still complied with her commanding order. The space between you grew even tighter, the proximity leaving you heady and breathless.

Natasha then shifted her thighs beneath you causing you squeal in surprise. 

“Sorry,” she whispered, but you just nodded, your face a burning kettle. Outside the door, the agents’ voices grew louder, their excitement evident as they reacted to the sounds you and Natasha were making.

“They were rushing it out!”

“Give them more time! C'mon!”

“I hope at least one of them could finish.”

You brought your hand on your mouth to contain your laughter once again. You blushed at the comment of the agents, the other was holding Natasha’s shoulder so you can steady yourself.

“18 seconds!”

The countdown and the outside world faded into the background as you bit your lip, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Overwhelmed by the moment and the intensity of your emotions, you leaned in and surged forward, your lips crashing onto hers, bruising them further in a desperate and passionate kiss.

As your lips melded together, Natasha's hands instinctively found their way to your waist, gripping it firmly, grounding you both. Pulling away, you locked eyes with Natasha, the gravity of the moment finally sinking in. Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you notice her lip, slightly bloodied with traces of your lipstick smeared across it. 

“I can't believe I just wasted those minutes in silence when I can have this with you,” she confessed.

And with that, the door of the small room you were in swung open, signaling that your 7 Minutes of Heaven is finally over.

The Call: Masterlist

[grimmsbride]

❛I’ll give you lessons, it’s so much to know. ❜ ⸺ Gojo Satoru

【⠀♱⠀】 SYNOPSIS. satoru just wants to show you how different real sex and literature sex is.

【⠀♱⠀】 WARNINGS. self-indulgent. | reader is black coded & chubby | satoru teases a lot | pet names | i tried to keep this as realistic as possible so idk if this is boring i’m sorry | oral sex | fingering | reader is a virgin & is a little insecure about that | reader is also a smut writer | no penetrative sex | praise | minor overstimulation & dacryphilia | satoru is lowkey jealous of the book lol | etc.

【⠀♱⠀】 AUTHOR’S NOTE. i know there’s like plenty of virgin x experienced satoru fics but i just wanted to write this one based off my own experience. so yeah, hope you enjoy there may be a part 2. 3K+ WORDS & PLEASE EXCUSE GRAMMAR MISTAKES

Novels were so easy to get lost in. The moment your eyes landed upon a link of words you were lost to the world; glued to the seat underneath you for hours until your eyes demanded rest.

This was your current situation; glued to your bed, back pressed against the hill of plush pillows whilst your eyes skimmed the sentences within the book. You held the paperback delicately, lips parting every so often to giddily act out a piece of dialogue.

You loved books. Loved reading them, writing them, and much more.

What you didn’t love, was being interrupted while reading one.

The knock against your door was enough to cause your head to snap to it, bottom lip curled tight under your teeth as annoyance threatened to bubble over. With a heavy sigh you slumped into your pillows, “Yes, Satoru?” Your voice ranged monotone, something you used frequently whenever your beloved roommate and friend; Gojo Satoru, decided he needed attention during your reading time.

The door opened with haste, the tall white-haired male entering with a small frown. “You never sound excited to see me.” Satoru breathed, hand rising and lowering against his chest as if truly wounded by your behavior. An act that dissipated the moment you rolled your eyes— the man chuckling and entering the room fully to sit upon the corner of your bed. “I’m bored.. The rain killed all my plans.”

His complaints were barely registered the moment your eyes landed back to your book— a single mhm escaping you instead. A silence covered the room, feeling your bed sink as his long form stretched out upon the edge. Still, your eyes remained on the manilla pages; far too consumed in the utter debauchery playing before your eyes.

Unfortunately for you, Satoru didn’t let this slide for long; given his hand rose to poke the bottom of your foot.

You blinked harshly, lowering the book to cast a glare his way; Satoru’s eyes elsewhere as if innocent. The moment you returned to your book however— he poked you again, going in for a third one just for good measure.

Your legs slid up quickly, book falling to your lap as you glared at the man. “Satoru, how old are you?!”

“I’m bored..” He repeated, cheek sinking into your soft blankets as his pretty eyes stared up at you. Any other time you would have gave into the infamous pout, but not this time. You were enjoying your book far too much.

“Not my problem, find something safe to do.” You huffed, grabbing your book from your lap to slap Satoru’s reaching hand with.

With a quick recoil of his hand, the man sat up, huffing softly. “Like what?”

You groaned, leaning back against your pillows. “I don’t know, Gojo. Cook a dish, sleep, maybe read a damn book— just stop worrying me to death!”

Silence carried around the room for a moment, a bout of anxiety settling deep in your stomach at the man’s unreadable expression. Have I upset him? Was the single thought running in your mind. There were times he was unbearably annoying but again— Satoru was your friend and someone you held very dear.

“Sato—“

“I’ll read a book.” The man rose from your bed slowly with a soft sigh. This alone caused the small bout to quickly grow; your eyebrows furrowing and racking your mind for the perfect apology.

Until.. your beloved roommate and great friend snatched your book right from your hands— dashing out of your room before you could even blink.

Your eyes slowly widened as you registered the situation, fighting with your blankets to throw off as expletives escaped your lips rapidly. You were finally free from the web of comfort— rushing out of your bedroom towards where you loudly heard Satoru reading your book.

“His voice was husky, low; a tone that caused warmth to spread from my stomach all the way to my toes..”

“Satoru— give me back my book!” You rushed towards his spot standing beside the coffee table, watching him raise the book higher and crane his neck to continue to read; all while with a shit eating grin.

“He was close now, eyelids low with plump lips slick with my..” Satoru’s words slowed, eyebrows coming close together for a split moment. “— arousal.” His eyes were wide at this point, falling to your face which held a mix between embarrassment and anger.

The two of you watched each other for a moment, lips forming into a grin and the other a frown; the silence breaking the moment you groaned and landed onto the couch. Satoru quickly followed, snickering to himself as he quickly went back a page;

“Looks like I need to reread for the full effect..“

“Satoru, bite your tongue and die—“

Your harsh words were over shown by his downright maniacal giggling as he read over the pages, leaning back against the cushions. You spared a glance to spot the bright smile drawn across his features, glossy lips parting to softly read out the scene.

Another groan escaped you as you leaned back, balling up the shirt you wore in your hands. You shouldn’t be this embarrassed, really— or should you? Sex was sex, obviously; but it was a little different to be sexually active and simply being reading about. Plus, it was no secret you were a virgin— so you were sure you looked like a perverted hornball.

You wanted to die right then and there.

Soon enough, however; your stolen book made contact with your lap, which caused your eyes to open and land onto the culprit.

Whose grin was still intact.

“So that’s why you wanted me to leave so badly.”

“Satoru, please..”

The man snorted softly, dimples deep and turning to face you. “I’m not making fun of you [Name], it’s normal— it’s like a guy watching porn..” His eyes trailed off for a moment, dancing about the room before clicking back to you. “— Though I have to ask, is this the same stuff you spend time writing about?”

The heat growing within you was becoming too much, washing over your face and causing the embarrassment to dive deeper and deeper. “N—not all of it!” You huffed, eyebrows pinched close as you watched the man raise his hands defensively.

“Like I said I’m not judging either way. It’s just, interesting is all..” He shrugged to himself, leaning back against the cushions as his arms stretched out upon the couch. Satoru’s eyes flicked to your own, grin deepening the moment he noticed your bewildered expression. The man, as teasing as ever— leaned over just a bit closer. “Because you’re a virgin, that’s why.”

“Oh.” You spoke softly, eyes falling from his face to your lap, lips pushed close for a moment— the heat in your face seething at this point. “Well yeah, it’s uh.. ya know, my imagination so it kind makes up for.. lack of experience?”

Satoru stifled a short laugh, slinking away and facing forward. “Your smut is completely different from the real thing, though.” He claimed, tone teetering between cocky and just a tad playful.

You rolled your eyes as a soft obviously escaped your lips hearing the man chuckle. Satoru wasn’t wrong, you were sure real life sex and literature were completely different. From reactions down to positions, it was bound to be very distinct.

Still, the question of how different lingered within you.

Slowly your eyes rose from your lap to settle upon your roommate and great friend, only to suck in a breath the moment you noticed his gaze already upon you. Nervously you wetted your bottom lip, bringing your arms even closer to your chest.

“H..how different?”

Without missing a beat the man was turning to face you, one arm falling to his lap.

“I could show you.”

Satoru’s words took a moment to register, you being unable to hear anything but your rapid heartbeat. It felt as if you were lit on fire, staring up at the man who glanced down at you with clear intent swirling in his eyes. His hand remained on his lap, waiting patiently for a response from your quivering lips.

He was your friend and roommate too; he was supposed to nothing more and nothing less. Every alarm was going off in your head, stating getting entangled in such a way would be a bad idea all around.

But, you ignored them. Wholeheartedly. The stiff nod you gave a clear response.

Except Satoru wasn’t having that, scooting closer as he shook his head at you. “I’m not words on paper,” He spoke cooly, staring down at you carefully. “—I need you to say it.”

You struggled to hold his intense gaze, eyes dancing just about anywhere to avoid it. Your hands fell to the pajama bottoms you wore, carefully clearing your throat. “I… Want you to show me.” You spoke softly, finally glancing back up at the man.

You breathed softly as he drew closer, feeling his hand fall to your thigh to part and intrude the space between them. Satoru lowered towards you, your eyes fluttering shut the moment you two kissed.

It was a embarrassing how inexperienced you were; barely being able to keep up with his lips despite the already slow pace. Your hands rose to grasp his arms, eyebrows pinching close as his tongue treaded across your mouth. A soft moan escaped you, causing his tongue to slither in and tangle with your own.

It was a foreign feeling, one that caused your mouth to ache and for a flutter to occur between your thighs. You gasped softly as his hand slid off the couch to your back, carefully pressing against it and lowering you onto the couch.

Satoru’s long form hovered over you, hand smoothing across your thigh for a moment before rising to the waistband of your pants. It simply rested there as he continued to mark your mouth as his own; lathering his tongue in the wet cavern and sucking on your own appendage to hear you whine. By the time he released from the kiss, drool was trickling down the side of your mouth, lips a mess and red from his own.

You panted softly, watching as he rested on his haunches. Satoru’s other hand met your waistband, toying with the fabric for a moment before removing his hands all together.

The action caused you to raise your eyebrow, biting the inside of your cheek. “Satoru, are y—“

“‘M waiting until you take your pants off.” He said as if the answer was obvious. The man made a show of leaning back to sit on his ass, arms crossed infront of him.

Whether to show he meant business or to restraint himself was something you would never know nor care for seeing as you were currently groaning at his words. You knew your pants would be off in the end anyway, but something about him doing it would.. well, ease your nerves somehow? Who knows, you can’t find an excuse in the moment.

Especially not when the man is simply grinning at you, refusing to make a move until you listened to his request.

Knots formed in your stomach as you rose your bottom half off the couch a bit, thumbs hooking on your pants and panties and slowly tugging them down your legs.

About halfway Satoru was helping, clearly impatient despite the look he was giving you just a moment ago. He tossed the garments off to the side, turning back to spot your thighs closed tight together.

The man blinked in response, even laughing a little to himself as his hands rose to rest upon your knees. “You always look so expressionless while reading your little books..” Satoru spoke coyly, thumbs lowering to press into your heated skin. “Yet here you are; legs closed and barely looking at me.”

“I’m nervous, Satoru. You can’t blame me.” You spoke softly, blinking up at the male who only smiled back. You hissed as his hands fell to the side of your thighs, his fingers trailing the skin to allow you to get used to the feeling.

“There’s no need to be. It’s just me, sweetheart.. no one else,” His voice was calm, easing your mind just a little. His hands lowered to the underside of your legs the moment he noticed you sinking into the couch more, thumbs peeking through the tiny slit between your legs. “— just you and Satoru.” That was enough to allow him to ease your legs apart, revealing your slick slit and more as he widened them further.

You grew uncomfortable under his gaze, adjusting yourself as your hands balled up the shirt you wore. Your stomach leaped however the moment you watched him began to lower and situate himself between your legs, face hovering just a breath away from your wet heat.

You hissed as his breath fanned against you, shivering the moment you felt his thumbs lower to gently pull your folds. “Satoru..” You whimpered softly, gasping as you felt his lips graze your pussy.

“Just relax for me..” Satoru hummed softly against you, tongue lolling out to lick a stripe up your slit. His hands tightened against your legs the moment you twitched, keeping your hips down against the couch as his tongue continued to work up and down your cunt.

You’ve never felt something like this before, it was well… weird. It’s not as if you were unfamiliar with pleasure in general. You’ve touched yourself enough to know what does and doesn’t feel good, or what type of response you would receive from yourself.

But Satoru was.. territory you have never encountered before. It was different, far too different to get used to in the moment. You were unable to contain the soft breaths and moans that escaped you, eyes screwed shut and not daring to look at the man currently ravishing you with just his tongue.

It was as if he had already studied your body; tongue dancing across your slit for a moment before lapping at your clit, squeezing your legs the moment they began to rise from the attention. Hearing your rushed cries was pure bliss, soft breathy moans escaping his mouth as he refused to allow you to move away from the pleasure.

Your back was arched now, arousal dripping down to your taint and surely the couch as Satoru sucked and licked your little bud raw. Your toes were curling, legs shaking, and your breath became labored; eyes peeking open to spot his gaze settled onto your face— clearly happy the moment you looked at him.

Satoru’s hand rose from your thigh and allowed his thumb to replace his mouth; rubbing your clit into circles, watching you carefully. “So wet, baby.. you hear it don’t you?” The man went silent whilst his thumb sped up, allowing you to hear the soft squelches of your pussy over the heavy breaths that were escaping you.

You gripped your shirt harshly, whimpering as your legs threatened to close from the pleasure. “S—satoru.. fuck, fuck..” You hissed the moment he leaned down again, feeling his tongue replace his thumb and set a harsh pace against your clit again.

What’s more, you felt his hand low, finger circling your sopping entrance for a moment before slowly pushing the long digit in. You whimpered at the sudden intrusion, but recovered quickly given the continued sucks and licks on your bud.

“Sato—satoru, fuck..!” You cried out, hands lowering to his fluffy white hair, taking the tresses between your fingers for something to hold. Your legs shook, bouncing about and threatening to close as his tongue sped up, while his finger slowly pushed in and out of your opening.

Your stomach was tense, grip tight, and mouth loose with moans as your orgasm hit you far too quickly; a beautiful string of sounds escaping you, as your legs shook around him. Satoru groaned into your sopping sex, gripping your leg as his actions never let up; carrying you through your orgasm effortlessly.

Little tears pricked at your eyes as pants escaped you and with shaky legs you were gripping his hair, pulling him away from your pussy quickly.

“Need to.. breath, Satoru.” You huffed softly, mouth hanging open and whining as you felt his finger slowly slide out of you. Through hazy vision you took in his beautiful features; spotting the red flushing his pale skin and the absolute mess of saliva and your essence coating the lower half of his face.

Satoru smiled up at you with low eyelids, circling the inside of your thigh with his thumb. “Breathe.” He hummed to you, rising up from between your legs to hover above you. The moment your eyes rose to meet his own, his head was lowering to plant a wet kiss to your cheek. “You don’t know how pretty you look like this, [Name].”

The warmth from both his actions and words were burning you up, your eyes shutting and not daring to look at him as a soft whine escaped you. You heard the man chuckle at you, feeling his hand gently squeeze your thigh.

“So shy..” Satoru teased, hand lowering to glide his fingers up and down your messy slit, paying extra attention to your bud with each pass. His eyes lowered as he spotted your legs widening, smile deepening in response. “You want more, huh? You want my mouth on this pretty pussy again, don’t you?”

The vulgar language had you whining, hips rising as soft pleas escaped you. This was enough for the man; slinking back to his previous position all while pushing at your thigh again.

His tongue moved up and down, side to side; reaching places that erupted feeling after feeling within you. Your mouth became raw from how loud you were becoming, arousal pooling under you as your grip never loosened on his hair.

Satoru’s breathing was heavy against you, tongue lowering to your hole and slowly pushing in; fucking you with the slimy appendage while working circles into your bud with his fingers. Despite these expert actions his eyes never left your face, feeling his cock strain within the confinements of his clothes.

Everything about you was addictive at this point. The moans you tried to cover, the way you absolutely refused to look at him, hell; even the twitches of your legs when the pleasure became too much. Satoru could only focus on you and nothing else. Especially not some dumb book that couldn’t make you feel half as good as he was right now.

Satoru’s tongue rose to allow his long digits to push into your awaiting entrance. The man hissed as your velvety walls clamped around them, using his thumb to circle your clit while he rose. “Can barely move my fingers, princess— you have to relax for me.”

You slowly nodded, a subtle pout forming as your hips rose. “‘M trying Satoru..” You huffed softly, eyes threatening to close as you felt his fingers pull back before pushing back in slowly. The pressure and pain dissipated the more you settled into the couch, pleasure even forming the moment his fingers curled. A moan escaped you shortly after, watching his grin widen.

“Good girl, that’s it..” He spoke sweetly. Yet his eyebrows furrowed the moment you closed your eyes, hand rising from your thigh take your cheeks in his hand— turning you forward again. “Mm.. don’t do that, lemme see you. Don’t look away.”

With how easily he was ruining you with his fingers, the task was difficult— but you obeyed; hands falling to his shoulders to hold tightly.

Your hips shook, rising to meet the thrusts of his fingers as a continuous honeyed melody fell from your swollen lips. Praises escaped the man above you as he felt your walls pulse rapidly, his thrusts increasing the moment your moans began to pitch.

“Fuck..! Satoru, I’m close!”

Your whimpers went unheeded, his pace quickening as he leaned down to press his lips against your neck. Your hips rose in the air for the last time as a prolonged moan escaped you, making a mess all over his hand.

This time Satoru pulled his hand away, allowing you to regain your breath while kissing your skin. Your grip loosened upon his body, eyelids falling shut as your pants slowed carefully.

A silence carried in the room until Satoru leaned down, resting his forehead against your own as he spoke;

“Do you know the difference now, [Name]?”

Regaining your breath, your hand rose to smooth across his neat undercut.

“Yeah, yeah I do..”

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !

[allfortheslay25]

Bestie, your brain 👌👌👌 i love all of your aftg au's, mermaid and omegaverse especially. Any headcanons or other things you wish people would ask but haven't/generally be willing to share? Hope you're doing well 💜

Another au from the secret stash!

All for the Cult

I hid this one cuz I’m afraid it’d be controversial and up until this week, I hadn’t even shared it with my sister

I actually am writing a fic for it but the fic will not be published until it is completed. I don’t want to risk leaving it in the public on a hiatus so it’s safe with me until I can finish all the chapters

Basically instead of exy as the base of AFTG, it’s bastardized religion. Exy technically exists but instead of Tetsuji continuing Kayleigh and his pet project, he turns to forming a cult. Exy ends up being a dying sport no one really cares about unless it’s Kevin Day who still plays on the side of his true passion, communing with God.

Neil was a human sacrifice raised for slaughter until his mom took him and ran. Homeless and with no way out, Neil joins Wymack’s staff at his wayward home/church where junkies and sob stories go for their last second chance. No one actually has to pray to god or believe in the Bible’s teachings to work there as it is not a standard church and more like a theater than anything

The more kids Wymack recruits, the longer he gets to keep his church and program at the school

(Also side note but I was doing the comic of andreil but forgot my house looks like a Catholic Church threw up in it so I got awkward and couldn’t finish it)(oh and my sister renamed it all for the debauchery cuz she got to read the altar scene lol)

Key points and fun facts of this au:

- the Ravens are a cult cult instead of a sports cult

- Riko is obsessed with his holy trinity (perfect court)

- The Moriyamas are still a crime unit but Nathan is sort of a satanist on the side (Would like to say mass majority of satanists are not evil or bad, Nathan just is)

- Neil was born as a sacrifice. Mary took him and ran tho before the ritual

- The Foxes are ppl from broken pasts who work at Wymack’s church for scholarship/community service.

- Wymack’s church isn’t a standard catholic kind. He has his own unique spin on it so even those who aren’t religious can still work there. Campus students attend the services to watch the plays, hear the readings, listen to the choir, and some even use the confession box. Some even go to donate as the Foxes are connected to a bunch of charities

- Andrew is not a real priest. The cousins were apprentices for Luther for a couple years to get him off their backs. Because of his experience and eidetic memory, Wymack has Andrew do scripture readings and other tasks. In return, Andrew gets to be off the meds the entire time of mass

- the Foxes attend classes and work shifts at the church in their free time. If they flunk classes or skip church, their scholarship is revoked

- all of the Foxes live in the upstairs rooms above the church

- When Andrew first met Luther, Luther promised to take care of the Cass situation as long as Andrew gave God a try. Andrew only agreed to read the Bible and took Nicky’s since the Hemmicks were worried he’d vandalize a new one. Andrew thought it was a good read but mostly was humored by all of Nicky’s annotations

- Andrew doesn’t care about religion enough to hate it so he’s fine chilling around and hearing the preaching

- When Neil goes to the nest, he agrees to spend those weeks in Riko’s church where he’s ofc tortured. Riko no longer has the desire to sacrifice Neil as long as Neil joins his cult

- Renee holds a Bible study on Sunday evenings and Saturdays so weekends are Andrews days off

- Lots of their readings are done performatively with music, spoken word poetry, or with their own unique spins/translations of the text. (Every mass always starts with a disclaimer that what is being said/shown is their interpretation and not to be taken as the honest god given truth)

- whenever they raise enough money or supplies, the foxes celebrate by getting wasted; Wymack’s treat

- Betsy is still there for mandatory therapy sessions since the point of the scholarship is to rehabilitate troubled youth

- Abby is Wymack’s assistant but she also is a part time nurse

[youling-the-ghost]

when the autism actually autisms and you fuck up a social interaction so bad that you can feel their opinion of you change for the worse right before your eyes:

me after anytime I talk to anyone ever:

[itspheenixbaby]

elephant in the room 🐘

rant about the state of online shifting; "get-it-off my chest" moment

part 1. scripting trauma/ being a bad person in a dr how many people are really doing "bad things" or scripting in trauma in their dr? lets be so fucking for real here. why is it that everytime someone "morally corrupt" it gets exposed months apart and the "culprit" is some small ass account with like ten followers? its not common. and im not saying it never happens. but shiftok is always on about these people and im like...who tf are yall talking about? they find one bad apple and then decide the whole community needs to be reminded how fucked up it is to do xyz.

i mean lets be realistic, how many people are going out of their way to script something traumatic or harmful? the majority of the online community (reddit, tumblr, tiktok) always talks about shifting for their s/o, adventure, frienships, family or a better life in some way. how many people are deliberately scripting to harm themselves or others? and is the number really so much that we need thinkpiece after thinkpiece about it?

aand when others behave immorally or get traumatized in their dr they will experience it. they will see the effects of any bad things they do to others. they will feel the trauma first hand and suffer from what theyve scripted in many ways. we dont need to punish these people. their dr will do it for them.

P. S what about when you shift to a dr like the walking dead? or even mha and keep in the war arc? thats traumatic. hell, even an idol / fame dr can be traumatic and those are hella common! yet nobody bats an eye or reprimands it...odd...

part 2. racebending race doesnt exist. i saw a shiftoker (a white one too??) act like someone was crazy for saying it! the whole concept was created by europeans! white mans burden, race based social classes, and eugenics all seems natural to yall? i mean logically its not odd to anyone that modern racial concepts were made by the same group of people in the same time period...? the time period people needed excuses to kill, rape, steal from and enslave other groups... search up "who created race" and then report back to me..anyways..

name one good thing that splitting people up and assigning them identities based on their background does for us? its caused mocking of those that dont fit the mold their race gives them, harmful views of other because of their racial group(s) and low self esteem from outside perceptions of your race. oh and division among groups on top of everything. so what is the point of holding on to race? abandon it! shift to be white, asian, black, indigenous, do what you want! youre not "changing your race" until you shift to become a different species (and theyres obvi nothing wrong w that!).

and some people say "if you script your another race your downplaying the racism poc face" but not every country has the same type of racism the states has. not every country is even as racist as the states. for example if im shifting to be fully south korean born & raised, and live full time in south korea, its not likely ill experience racism. and even so you can just...script out racism? like what...some people literally hate shifters who dont script out racism and expect everyone to script it out, but then turn to say that they cant change their race because of racism...huh? genuinely dont get that.

P. S im only really preaching abandonment of race so flippantly in regard to shifting. in this reality we're kinda stuck with it at this point lol.

P.S.S and it seems shifters from the usa hate racebending the most! as an american, i wonder how much of that is being intimidated that the concept of a racial hierarchy, that our nation has been built upon for centuries, can be shattered so easily...and therefore obviously proves it as obsolete. food for thought. (half joking here teehee)

[cinnnamongrl]

college!ellie and innocent bsf!reader

based on this request! [18+] MDNI as usual. ellie is in love with reader but this is pretty much just smut Lol<3 reader is ‘innocent’ but there’s no mention of past experience or lack of so it’s up for interpretation, one reference of readers hair going past her neck, strap referred to as ellie’s cock/dick, praise, some dacryphilia, edging, some degradation. (lmk if i missed anything!)

ellie had mixed feelings about being your best friend.

on one hand, it was the easiest thing in the world. you were thoughtful, kind, sweet, you always made the effort, always knew how to cheer her up, you would even do cute things like bake little cookies and leave them in her dorm every week. she was lucky to have you and she knew it.

but on the other hand, it was fucking torture. not because of how you were as a friend, of course not. more because of how pathetically hard ellie was pining over you. and the worst part was that you had no fucking clue. no clue how she felt. no clue that every time you would innocently rest your head against hers and cuddle up to her while you watched a movie her heart would beat a million beats per minute. no clue that she often spent more time watching you than the movie. no clue that every time you wore one of your pretty little skirts that barely cover your thighs she lost her fucking mind. no clue that after every single hookup, no matter the girl or how hot or interesting she was, after the deed was done ellie swiftly left their dorms to go and spend time with you (and didn’t stop thinking about you during, either). no clue that she only started dating cat to try and prove to herself that maybe she was just lonely and craved a relationship, that it wasn’t you specially that she wanted. and no clue about the real reason they broke up.

“that’s the second fucking time this has happened, ellie! doing it once is one thing but twice? we’re fucking done.” cat screamed from across her dorm. “it was an accident i just- she was on my mind because i’m seeing her later.” ellie spoke back, voice calmer than cat’s. “that’s the fucking problem isn’t it! you’re seeing her later when you could be spending time with your girlfriend. and even when you’re with me, you’re thinking about her!”. ellie sighed, “it’s not like that. she’s my best friend-“ “you said her fucking name while you were having sex with me, ellie! just- go. we’re over.”

ellie felt guilty about it, she really did. but not as guilty as she felt having to lie to you about the reason for the breakup. and no where near as guilty as she felt for the way her clit pumped in her boxers when your tits pressed into hers as you gave her a sympathy hug. “‘m sorry els.” you spoke gently with a little pout on your lips that she wanted to kiss right off you.

truthfully, although you felt bad, you weren’t really sorry they’d broken up. you didn’t like cat. you couldn’t really say why; she was pretty funny, you guess she was kind of cool, and she seemed to really like ellie. but maybe that was the problem. she would drape her hands over ellie, she would kiss ellie’s cheek, she would hug ellie. hug your ellie. so you couldn’t help but feel a little bit happy that now you didn’t have to share her anymore. that’s how everyone felt about their best friend right?

ellie really did feel like a perv when she started to have feelings for you. it was like you were trying to tease her, despite her being sure you had no idea of the effect you had.

“is this dress too short d’you think?” you asked her, craning your neck to look behind you into the big mirror in the tiny dressing room you’d dragged her into. “uh- no it’s fine” she murmured. “yeah but look, if i-“ you bent over slightly and the dress rode up even further, barely covering your ass, and you analysed your reflection “-do that, isn’t it a little too… revealing” no matter how hard she tried couldn’t tear her eyes from you, couldn’t rid herself of the mental image of your hands smudging the mirror as she fucked you from behind, watching your pretty face in the reflection, grasping a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. “uh i guess it’s pretty short but you um- look good” you smiled big and stood up straight “thanks els.”

it also didn’t help that you were so fucking tactile. holding her hand when you walked to places together, cuddling up to her when you were both chilling on her bed. the first time you put your head on her lap while you watched tv she very nearly audibly groaned.

and god was it hard when you were stressed out. it’s like you became 10x as touchy, practically using her as a stress toy; squeezing her hand, arms, and laying your body across her lap as you ranted about the professor you hated or that upcoming deadline. and she did half of what she wanted to do; she stroked your hair, comforted you with her words, sometimes took you out for ice cream to distract you (which she realised the first time was a grave fucking mistake as soon as she was forced to keep her composure while she watched your tongue swipe agonisingly slow up your cone to collect a sweet vanilla droplet that was travelling towards your hand, and then grin all cute at her like you hadn’t just made her boxers damp). and the other half that she wanted to do but couldn’t? carry you to her bed, undress you all sweet and slow, and then fuck every last inch of stress out of you until the only thing your mind could possibly think about was her and the way she was making you feel.

but none of those moments of temptation and pining rivalled the fiery jealously ellie felt exactly 1 week ago when you told her that a girl from your class had asked you on a date. ellie pretended she didn’t care; what reason could she possibly give for not wanting you to go on a date with a perfectly nice girl. she was always telling you you needed to get some. a stupid part of her brain thought that teasing you like that would cover up that she wanted to be the one to give you some. and an even stupider part of her brain thought maybe if she teased you about it enough that you’d snap and beg her, your more experienced and caring best friend, to take care of you.

secretly, you didn’t really care much about this date, or the girl. she was pretty, but not really your type, and you didn’t really seem to have much of an interest in dating. you weren’t sure why, but a part of you wished ellie told you not to go. you couldn’t understand why “cool. you should go if you want.” made your smile drop slightly and heart feel flat. she was being supportive like any best friend would so why did you feel disappointed? regardless, someone nice wanted to take you out, so you thought ‘why not?’

tonight was the date ellie had been dreading for a very long 7 days. her eyes were following you round your dorm room as you moved from corner to corner scrambling for hair clips, shoes, a jacket, all while a foamy toothbrush stuck out the side of your mouth.

“els help me find that necklace you bought me. the one with the sun on it.” you spoke, words muffled and hands ruffling through your makeup bag. “you’re gonna wear the necklace i bought you?” you looked up “yeah, why not?”. ellie crossed her arms. she had no defence. she just hated the fact that you would be wearing the necklace she bought you for your birthday last year on a date with someone else. “it’s my favourite!” you chirped.

ellie watched for a little longer, making no effort to look for your necklace, manspreading on the edge of your bed. you hated when she did that. it made your tummy feel all funny and squirmy.

“finally!” you spoke suddenly after a few minutes of searching, turning to her with the necklace dangling from your fingers. ellie raised her eyebrows in faux enthusiasm. you weren’t stupid, you sensed she was a little off since you’d been getting ready. “you ok els?” she shuffled a little on your bed “yeah, why wouldn’t i be?”. you walked a little closer to her, “do you not think i should go on this date?” you asked. ellie’s mind flooded with say yes say yes say yes “no-“ she spoke “no- you should go if you want.” seriously? but what excuse did she have anyway? please don’t go on a date with a perfectly nice girl because i’m desperately in love with you and the thought of you with someone else makes me want to rip my heart out. whatever, she just hoped the date sucked. “oh ok.” you replied, a little flatly. did you- want her to say yes? ellie thought. there were a few seconds of silence that hung in the air.

you turned the other way and stood still, “can you do me up?” ellie stayed still, confusion evident in her voice “what?” you turned your head to look at her “my necklace!” “oh-“ ellie stood from your bed and stopped when she was standing facing your back. your hair fell past your neck, covering the back of the necklace, so ellie gently gathered it and laid it to one side over your shoulder. her movements were slow. lingering. almost like it was an effort to take her hand away. her fingers grazing your neck made little tingles gather at your skin which you hoped she couldn’t read from you. ellie always made you feel these weird pleasurable little buzzes when she touched you or looked at you in certain ways, but right now it was heightened, making it harder to ignore, harder to convince yourself they were normal things to feel around your best friend. she moved a step closer as she picked up the two ends of your necklace to attach them. she was close now, her chest almost pressing up against your back.

ellie knew she was treading the line, she allowed her fingers to linger for a few seconds too long as she helped you but she couldn’t help it. it was as if it was her last chance to touch you in case the date went well. she attached the two pieces together and let go of the chain, not moving from her place behind you. she let out a slow breath and it met your neck. you shivered. you hoped she didn’t notice.

she did. her eyes watched you; you were still, apart from the slight movement of your shoulders from breathing a little heavier. ellie’s lowered her voice to a whisper, “you shivered”. you didn’t turn back around. didn’t want her to see you flustered, see your chest rising and falling a little more rapidly and your heart beating quickly. “‘i’m cold” you lied. “yeah?” she questioned, unconvinced. “it’s july.” she added, voice low in your ear. a small sound left your throat, and she chuckled at you. “y’look so pretty. she’s a lucky girl.” you mumbled a ‘thanks’ and she moved both hands to let her fingers stoke alongside the straps of your dress and then slowly down the side of your ribs. “gotta be careful though. you almost look too good… wouldn’t want her getting the wrong idea” you stayed silent. “hm, pretty girl?”. you swallowed, “mm” you managed back. what the hell was she doing to you? something had switched; you were always touchy with each other but this was different; it felt like she knew something about you that you didn’t even know yourself. all the attention and her soft condescending tone was making your head spin.

“you nervous for the date?” ellie asked. a small “mhm” passed your lips. another lie. you weren’t nervous, you just didn’t want to go. ellie tutted a little insincerely “why?” and now her hands were on your sides, thumbs stoking up and down, increasing the nervous tingly buzz through your body. “you don’t wanna go?” you hesitated for a moment and then shook your head. “w-wanna stay here with you” you admitted. she dipped her head down to the curve that meets your neck and your shoulder and she kissed the skin there. “why’s that?” her hands were moving to your hips, she was letting them roam a little, treading that line even further with every inch closer to your thighs. you squeezed your eyes shut, your body felt like it was on fire and you equally hated and loved how weak she was making you feel right now. “cause y-you’re my best friend” you replied weakly. she chuckled again. “best friends don’t make you feel the way people you date do.” a boldness had seemed to ignite in her, sparked by her sudden realization that although you couldn’t see what you did to her, she made you nervous. and ellie had been with enough girls to read the signs when someone is fucking turned on. and that, you were.

her voice was low in your ear, tone darker, “best friends don’t make you nervous.” your eyes remained shut. ellie removed a hand from your hip and ran a finger up the skin your inner arm, bringing goosebumps to the surface. “best friends don’t make you feel all tingly” before you could make up your mind whether to defend yourself or completely give in to her, her hands were back on your hips and she pressed herself against you. your head fell back slightly onto her shoulder. “best friends…” she dipped a hand under your dress and cupped a hand around your clothed cunt “…don’t make you wet”

you whimpered, and reached your hand back to grip onto hers, keeping yourself steady. “els” you whined. she ran a finger over the damp fabric and you whimpered again when it reached your clit. “isn’t that right?”. you nodded, managing a quiet “mhm”. she moved your panties to the side, sliding two fingers through your wetness “who’s this for, hm? who got you this messy?” she taunted. “you” you whispered back, barely audible. “that’s right. y’think your little date could get you wet like this?” god she was mean. she knows. she knows about your secret feelings you’re not even sure you understand yourself. you wonder if she knows the extent. that she makes your head swim whenever she calls you calls you pretty, that you spend endless nights pathetically humping your pillow desperately pushing down thoughts of her trying to convince yourself she was popping up because you just spent so much time together. what you don’t know is that she only figured all this out 3 fucking minutes ago.

you shook you head “just you els”. she tutted mockingly “poor baby. you need me to take care of you?” she continued to let her fingers rub through your folds, “please”. she tapped your hip “turn around, i wanna see your pretty face” you turned, shyness forcing your head to face down to avoid her eyes. ellie grabbed your chin to lift your face up and she kissed you. you moaned into it and a groan escaped her throat at hearing you. your date was long fucking forgotten. “y’sure you want this?” “yes els, please.” she smiled at your desperation and picked you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around her. she pressed you down onto the bed, her hips snug against yours.

not even 5 minutes later you were stripped bare, little whimpers and moans tumbling from your lips as she worked her mouth on you. every time you got close she stopped to place little kisses on your inner thighs, obsessed with seeing you huff in desperation. “elliiieeee” you’d whine and she’d shush you as soon as her mouth was back on your clit. after your third orgasm she finally drew her mouth from you. she moved her face back up to yours and kissed you, sloppily mixing her saliva with yours.

after that, the two of you barely left each others beds all day. ellie was even more feral than she’d been before, something she didn’t realize was possible. when you were in class? she was texting you shit like ‘wanna taste u again‘ knowing you’d be scrambling to turn your brightness down. and as soon as class was over and you knocked on her door? she was dragging you in, caging you in against the wall and pushing your skirt up.

and it wasn’t too long until she finally got to make use of that strap she’d never even opened (despite not believing her feelings would ever be reciprocated, she’d bought it with only one person in mind, and she just couldn’t bring herself to use it with anyone else that wasn’t that one person…)

she was hovered over you, dragging the silicone cock up and down your slit at an agonising pace, teasing little sounds from you. “you sure you can take it?” she teased. “mhm, i can take you, promise” fuck, you were killing her. she filled you slowly, letting you get used to her size. “more” you near-whispered, eyes squeezed shut from embarrassment. “hey- eyes on me,” she instructed, and you let your eyes fall onto her “you want more?”. you nodded, “please”. ellie pecked your lips and started to move her hips, her cock dragging against your walls making your mouth fall open. ellie was watching you, eyes full of lust and something more. “so so good for me. so pretty” she cooed. your head was already going fuzzy, she’d always made your heart feel fluttery when she praised you but like this, it was a whole different story. she was deep, filling you completely and then nearly pulling out again, making you feel so full in the most perfect way. she snaked a hand under your head and lifted it slightly so you were looking at where your bodies connected “look at that,” she breathed, “taking me so well”. a moan escaped your throat as you watched her cock disappear in and out of you.

despite the desperation pawing at her skin to fuck you stupid as soon as her strap was inside you, she decided she would rather drag it out… get you desperate, pleading, hear your needy little whines, see your eyebrows drawn together in that adorable little expression that screams “please fuck me faster ellie” and when she finally did, she was still dragging it out, being so mean and not letting you cum. after 20 minutes of the same routine of giving you exactly what you wanted and then slowing down again when you got close, you didn’t even notice your eyes filling up with tears, and the pathetic begs coming from your mouth skipped past the filter that usually would’ve caught them before they were spoken.

“please ellie, please. wanna cum so bad” she pouted down at you as she wiped a tear that had rolled down your cheek “you crying baby? you wanna cum that bad?” you nodded your head frantically, blinking the tears away. she tilted her head to the side, “i might not let you- you look so pretty like this”. a strangled whine left you at her threat. but she picked up her pace again, and only a few minutes later you were almost reaching your peak again and this time she was nice. so so nice. as you started to reach your climax she kissed you. you gripped her tightly and your body started to shake as she groaned into your mouth “that’s right. come for me, pretty girl”.

ellie thought missionary would always be her favourite; she wanted to be able to see your face twisted in pleasure, to have your neck, your tits, your stomach right in view on display for her… but the first time you let her hit it from the back? it was like it released something feral inside of her, and she was suddenly spilling everything she’d been keeping inside for so long.

“god, you know how fucking hard it was for me? when you’d walk around in those tiny fucking skirts? cute little ass almost showing-“ she was rambling, words falling out of her mouth as she fucked you, your ass arched up and her hands gripping your hips as she drove into you hard “made it so hard for me not to bend you over and make you take it.” you clenched around the plastic at her words “mmgh you- you should have.” you managed in broken breaths, both of you too drunk on each other to really process what you were saying. “yeah, you woulda liked that? filthy little thing. bet you did it on purpose, huh? wore those little clothes cause you wanted me to snap and finally fuck you like a little slut?” your breathing was all over the place, practically panting as your head went fuzzy from her words. “mhm” you mumbled. ellie was close herself, the harness rubbing deliciously against her clit as she fucked you, mind fuzzy with the idea of coming with you. “rub your clit for me, angel” she spoke “wanna see you cum all over my dick”. you obeyed, lifting a hand to rub little circles on your swollen bud, intensifying the pleasure by tenfold and brining you even closer to your release. it wasn’t long until the pleasure was all-consuming, your eyes rolling back as she fucked you through your orgasm. before you could come down from it she was reaching her own a few seconds later, her pretty mouth hung open in pleasure and hands still gripping your hips tight.

a few minutes later you were both laid beside each other, limbs crossing and bodies sticky with heat as your breathing started to return to normal. “was that all true? was it really that hard to be around me?” you giggled. ellie snorted “yeah, to be honest. drove me fucking crazy” she smiled at you teasingly, “you’re still hard to be around”. your eyebrows raised “in a good way?” ellie let out a small laugh, “yeah in a good way. in a ‘how can you walk around looking that beautiful and expect me not to wanna kiss your face off in front of the entire lecture hall’ way”. you giggled, “that’s so sweet”. she smirked at you, “and then have your legs held up on my shoulders as i ea-” “ellie!” you shoved her playfully, embarrassment returning in your post-sex come down. she laughed out loud “don’t get all shy on me now! did you hear yourself 10 minutes ago?” she teased. you twisted your body the other way to hide your face but she grabbed you, holding you down and ignoring your giggly pleas, nipping little kisses all over your face and neck.

it didn’t take long for your laughter and playful teases to settle and sleepiness to overtake. and both of you always slept well like this; curled up tightly against each other, completely still apart from rising chests and a hand tracing little circles on a leg or stomach. and now a slight movement from your hips that accidentally pushed into ellie in a not-so-innocent way, or a sweet sleepy sigh that makes her heart flutter, didn’t interrupt her sleep with racing thoughts of guilt and confusion- now they simply lulled her into contented rest, knowing that you were all hers.

[shy-writer-999]

I’ve never actually said (written???) this to anyone before but I need to say it. I need to get it out there.

I’m a slut for the idea of somnophilia with Ace. I feel like that’s a fairly common thing (or at least, I’ve seen it a few times?), but I’ve never actually admitted it. I wanna wake him up by sucking on his cock until he comes to and starts face fucking me and calling me his good girl, or riding him until he comes deep inside and I only realize he’s awake when he starts talking about how pretty I look rocking on his dick. I want him to get me even closer to coming myself with his morning voice alone because you know it’s damn good. Just. Hnnngh. I want iiittt.

*reaches for my vibrator*

what a lovely picture you have painted for me. like if ace told you he's really into it, you'd have absolutely noooo problem meeting that need. i'm sure he'd love it. also holy shit I love anything that entails the phrase “good girl." anyways, i came up with around ~1k words based on your prompt, but i'm not sure it is as good as what you came up with! check it out under the cut (≧◡≦) i'll edit this more tomorrow!

**but first, a note! i am here for the somnophilia as long as there's established consent beforehand and DUHHHH ik that's implied but perhaps i ought to state that! so, let that previously established consent stand for the smut below! also, you mentioned that somno is common, and i would like to confirm that, at least in my personal experience, many men eat that shit up. so… feel no shame in admitting that, anon, because its very real and iconic of u to like the idea. 💅💅 (if i do say so myself LOL)

Ace + Somnophilia

It was around 5AM and you couldn’t sleep. Ace took up the entire bed, starfishing it while you were curled up next to him, cheek resting on his chest. Considering the fact that you’d just woken up from a steamy dream, there was one thing on your mind. Heat was blooming at your core and you could feel wetness pooling between your legs already. There was only one solution, which happened to be one of Ace’s favorite things.

You crept your hand towards the bulge in Ace’s boxer briefs and ran a palm over it. He was such a heavy sleeper that it didn’t register. His deep breaths continued, quiet and comforting. You continued to pass your hand over his cock, massaging his balls briefly through the fabric and grinding your palm down. He got hard so fast, but his breathing didn’t change at all—he was sound asleep.

Sitting up slowly, you scooted off the bed so that you could walk around and climb back up, this time positioned between his knees. You knew that one of his favorite things was to wake up with his cock in your mouth—and what a perfect time for it, since you couldn’t sleep. On your knees between his wide-spread thighs, you tugged at the waistband of his boxers until they were low enough to give you access to his cock. It was large and veiny. In the muted morning light trickling in through the half-covered window, you could see just enough to tell that his tip was already pink and enflamed.

You were careful not to wake him as you grasped his shaft and stoked it lazily a couple of times. You licked a long, wet stripe from base to tip and repeated the motion until you started to taste milky white pearls of precum seeping from him.

He was still asleep.

After a few minutes of slowly licking his shaft and sucking the precum from his slit, you reached a hand up to softly cradle his balls. At the same time, you finally took his whole length into your mouth. You could feel and taste his precum at the back of your tongue as you sucked your cheeks in and started to bob up and down on his cock.

You sucked him off for a few minutes, alternating between cradling his balls with one hand and dragging your fingers over his shaft with the other. You were getting lost in it, so focused on the process of sucking him off that you didn’t realize when his hands tangled in your hair and pushed your head down. He bucked his hips up at the same time, making you gag on his length as it poked the back of your throat. He held you like that for a second, taking in the warm, slippery feeling of his cock throbbing in your mouth.

Ace groaned, half awake. “Good morning, beautiful.” His voice was scratchy and husky, not warmed up yet from his pleasure-filled awakening. When his voice got like this in the morning it made you feel feral—something about that deep and gravelly sound made you need him more than usual.

He pulled your head up until your lips were wrapped around his head, and then plunged you down on it, eliciting another filthy noise as you gagged on him again. He was fully awake now “Fuckkkk, its so early and you’re already taking it for me like a good girl.”

He proceeded to face fuck you until you were a mess—his precum was dribbling out of the corners of your mouth, your hands were covered in your own spit, and every sound he made went straight to your cunt. You were dripping wet and dying for his touch, wishing he’d put his cock in you and fuck you until you couldn’t talk anymore. But instead, he was fucking your face for now.

Your breaths were labored. You used every shred of control to breathe through your nose, but his cock was twitching and his hands didn’t give you any reprieve. “Just like that, baby. ‘M gonna fuck your mouth full, just like you wanted. You gonna swallow my cum, sweetheart? Every last drop?” You attempted to nod but you were unsuccessful, on account of his hands tightly gripping your head. He could tell that you were trying to nod, at least.

His hips jerked upwards every time he pushed your head down. The choking, muffled sounds you made were vibrating his cock. “Hang in there, just a little bit longer. There’s my girl.”

By the time he came down your throat, you were so far gone that you swallowed his seed without a second thought. He pulled you off his cock with a popping noise, and you crawled up his chest and collapsed.

“You can’t give up yet, sugar. Don’t you want to ride me first?”