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rtfics · 2 days ago

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I'm popping in only because a friend told me about this post.

Hi. Professional writer here. Warner Brothers and Tim Burton would never look at unsolicited screenplays. You'd need to have an agent and an extensive CV as a professional writer. Unless you're already a seasoned pro there's no way Burton would look at your script. Besides, for his films Burton creates the ideas and works with the screenwriters; they put words to what he wants to happen. And he adds and removes things during filming. He doesn't just take someone else's script and turn it into a film.

Also, and this is very important: You can't write a script with someone else's characters. You don't own the copyright to any of the Beetlejuice characters. If you try to make money using someone else's characters that's theft and copyright infringement. You can be sued. So the idea of your selling a Beetlejuice script is moot. Can't happen.

Dear god, don't send your script to screenplay contests or any place online that says you can sell screen plays. These are ripoffs. If you seriously want your script to be sold you need an agent.

You can't just send a script to a movie studio or a director and expect it to be read. People try this all the time, which is why pros only look at work sent to them by agents. The agents do the vetting for them. Being a member of the WGA means nothing. Being a member does NOT mean anyone will read your script. You have to be represented by an agent, and one with a good reputation.

And double dear jeezus god, do not go to AI for information. Go to the library and get a book about screenwriting written by a screenwriter. AI is shit.

Becoming a professional screenwriter, or pro writer in any genre, takes hard work and dedication. There's no easy way, no short cut. Websites that promise you such are there to take advantage of your ignorance and steal your ideas and/or your money. If you're not willing to do the necessary work -- which BTW will take years--- then just stick to fanfic writing.

Read I Will Not Read Your F*%!ing Script by screenwriter Josh Olson. I include it below. Believe me, his sentiments are the same for all directors and movie studios. This article is about looking for feedback, but it's the same for those who want to sell a screenplay:

We know you’ve been working very hard on your screenplay, but before you go looking for some professional feedback, you might keep in mind the following piece by A History of Violence screenwriter Josh Olson.

I will not read your fucking script.

That’s simple enough, isn’t it? “I will not read your fucking script.” What’s not clear about that? There’s nothing personal about it, nothing loaded, nothing complicated. I simply have no interest in reading your fucking screenplay. None whatsoever.

If that seems unfair, I’ll make you a deal. In return for you not asking me to read your fucking script, I will not ask you to wash my fucking car, or take my fucking picture, or represent me in fucking court, or take out my fucking gall bladder, or whatever the fuck it is that you do for a living.

You’re a lovely person. Whatever time we’ve spent together has, I’m sure, been pleasurable for both of us. I quite enjoyed that conversation we once had about structure and theme, and why Sergio Leone is the greatest director who ever lived. Yes, we bonded, and yes, I wish you luck in all your endeavors, and it would thrill me no end to hear that you had sold your screenplay, and that it had been made into the best movie since Godfather Part II.

But I will not read your fucking script.

At this point, you should walk away, firm in your conviction that I’m a dick. But if you’re interested in growing as a human being and recognizing that it is, in fact, you who are the dick in this situation, please read on.

Yes. That’s right. I called you a dick. Because you created this situation. You put me in this spot where my only option is to acquiesce to your demands or be the bad guy. That, my friend, is the very definition of a dick move.

I was recently cornered by a young man of my barest acquaintance.

I doubt we’ve exchanged a hundred words. But he’s dating someone I know, and he cornered me in the right place at the right time, and asked me to read a two-page synopsis for a script he’d been working on for the last year. He was submitting the synopsis to some contest or program, and wanted to get a professional opinion.

Now, I normally have a standard response to people who ask me to read their scripts, and it’s the simple truth: I have two piles next to my bed. One is scripts from good friends, and the other is manuscripts and books and scripts my agents have sent to me that I have to read for work. Every time I pick up a friend’s script, I feel guilty that I’m ignoring work. Every time I pick something up from the other pile, I feel guilty that I’m ignoring my friends. If I read yours before any of that, I’d be an awful person.

Most people get that. But sometimes you find yourself in a situation where the guilt factor is really high, or someone plays on a relationship or a perceived obligation, and it’s hard to escape without seeming rude. Then, I tell them I’ll read it, but if I can put it down after ten pages, I will. They always go for that, because nobody ever believes you can put their script down once you start.

But hell, this was a two page synopsis, and there was no time to go into either song or dance, and it was just easier to take it. How long can two pages take?

Weeks, is the answer.

And this is why I will not read your fucking script.

It rarely takes more than a page to recognize that you’re in the presence of someone who can write, but it only takes a sentence to know you’re dealing with someone who can’t.

(By the way, here’s a simple way to find out if you’re a writer. If you disagree with that statement, you’re not a writer. Because, you see, writers are also readers.)

You may want to allow for the fact that this fellow had never written a synopsis before, but that doesn’t excuse the inability to form a decent sentence, or an utter lack of facility with language and structure. The story described was clearly of great importance to him, but he had done nothing to convey its specifics to an impartial reader. What I was handed was, essentially, a barely coherent list of events, some connected, some not so much. Characters wander around aimlessly, do things for no reason, vanish, reappear, get arrested for unnamed crimes, and make wild, life-altering decisions for no reason. Half a paragraph is devoted to describing the smell and texture of a piece of food, but the climactic central event of the film is glossed over in a sentence. The death of the hero is not even mentioned. One sentence describes a scene he’s in, the next describes people showing up at his funeral. I could go on, but I won’t. This is the sort of thing that would earn you a D minus in any Freshman Comp class.

Which brings us to an ugly truth about many aspiring screenwriters: They think that screenwriting doesn’t actually require the ability to write, just the ability to come up with a cool story that would make a cool movie. Screenwriting is widely regarded as the easiest way to break into the movie business, because it doesn’t require any kind of training, skill or equipment. Everybody can write, right? And because they believe that, they don’t regard working screenwriters with any kind of real respect. They will hand you a piece of inept writing without a second thought, because you do not have to be a writer to be a screenwriter.

So. I read the thing. And it hurt, man. It really hurt. I was dying to find something positive to say, and there was nothing. And the truth is, saying something positive about this thing would be the nastiest, meanest and most dishonest thing I could do. Because here’s the thing: not only is it cruel to encourage the hopeless, but you cannot discourage a writer. If someone can talk you out of being a writer, you’re not a writer. If I can talk you out of being a writer, I’ve done you a favor, because now you’ll be free to pursue your real talent, whatever that may be. And, for the record, everybody has one. The lucky ones figure out what that is. The unlucky ones keep on writing shitty screenplays and asking me to read them.

To make matters worse, this guy (and his girlfriend) had begged me to be honest with him. He was frustrated by the responses he’d gotten from friends, because he felt they were going easy on him, and he wanted real criticism. They never do, of course. What they want is a few tough notes to give the illusion of honesty, and then some pats on the head. What they want — always — is encouragement, even when they shouldn’t get any.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to tell someone that they’ve spent a year wasting their time? Do you know how much blood and sweat goes into that criticism? Because you want to tell the truth, but you want to make absolutely certain that it comes across honestly and without cruelty. I did more rewrites on that fucking e-mail than I did on my last three studio projects.

My first draft was ridiculous. I started with specific notes, and after a while, found I’d written three pages on the first two paragraphs. That wasn’t the right approach. So I tossed it, and by the time I was done, I’d come up with something that was relatively brief, to the point, and considerate as hell. The main point I made was that he’d fallen prey to a fallacy that nails a lot of first-timers. He was way more interested in telling his one story than in being a writer. It was like buying all the parts to a car and starting to build it before learning the basics of auto mechanics. You’ll learn a lot along the way, I said, but you’ll never have a car that runs.

(I should mention that while I was composing my response, he pulled the ultimate amateur move, and sent me an e-mail saying, “If you haven’t read it yet, don’t! I have a new draft. Read this!” In other words, “The draft I told you was ready for professional input, wasn’t actually.”)

I advised him that if all he was interested in was this story, he should find a writer and work with him; or, if he really wanted to be a writer, start at the beginning and take some classes, and start studying seriously.

And you know what? I shouldn’t have bothered. Because for all the hair I pulled out, for all the weight and seriousness I gave his request for a real, professional critique, his response was a terse “Thanks for your opinion.” And, the inevitable fallout — a week later a mutual friend asked me, “What’s this dick move I hear you pulled on Whatsisname?”

So now this guy and his girlfriend think I’m an asshole, and the truth of the matter is, the story really ended the moment he handed me the goddamn synopsis. Because if I’d just said “No” then and there, they’d still think I’m an asshole. Only difference is, I wouldn’t have had to spend all that time trying to communicate thoughtfully and honestly with someone who just wanted a pat on the head, and, more importantly, I wouldn’t have had to read that godawful piece of shit.

You are not owed a read from a professional, even if you think you have an in, and even if you think it’s not a huge imposition. It’s not your choice to make. This needs to be clear — when you ask a professional for their take on your material, you’re not just asking them to take an hour or two out of their life, you’re asking them to give you — gratis — the acquired knowledge, insight, and skill of years of work. It is no different than asking your friend the house painter to paint your living room during his off-hours.

There’s a great story about Pablo Picasso. Some guy told Picasso he’d pay him to draw a picture on a napkin. Picasso whipped out a pen and banged out a sketch, handed it to the guy, and said, “One million dollars, please.”

“A million dollars?” the guy exclaimed. “That only took you thirty seconds!”

“Yes,” said Picasso. “But it took me fifty years to learn how to draw that in thirty seconds.”

Like the cad who asks the professional for a free read, the guy simply didn’t have enough respect for the artist to think about what he was asking for. If you think it’s only about the time, then ask one of your non-writer friends to read it. Hell, they might even enjoy your script. They might look upon you with a newfound respect. It could even come to pass that they call up a friend in the movie business and help you sell it, and soon, all your dreams will come true. But me?

I will not read your fucking script.

Josh Olson’s screenplay for the film A History of Violence was nominated for the Academy Award, the BAFTA, the WGA award and the Edgar. He is also the writer and director of the horror/comedy cult movie Infested, which Empire Magazine named one of the 20 Best Straight to Video Movies ever made. Recently, he has written with the legendary Harlan Ellison, and worked on Halo with Peter Jackson and Neill Blomkamp. He adapted Dennis Lehane’s story “Until Gwen,” which he will also be directing. He is currently adapting One Shot, one of the best-selling Jack Reacher books for Paramount.

So I'm still serious about writing that BJ3 script but I found out about all the requirements needed to join the Screenwriters Guild so its unlikely I'll be able to join. I had thought of joining since Warner Bros does not accept freelance scripts. As I said I'm still serious about getting my script into Tim's/Warner Bros hands. Does anyone know of any screenplay contests or anywhere where you can sell screenplays online? I really want to help all the Beetlebabes dreams come true by making Beetlebabes canon this time.

#beetlebabes #beetlejuice x lydia #beetlelyds #beetlejuice and lydia #screenwriting #nope that's not how it works #professional writing #I Will Not Read Your Fucking Script #writing

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tonycries · 10 months ago

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Can I Fill You Up, Baby?

Synopsis. There’s no way he had a breéding kink, right? That was before he was balls-deep in you, cúmming in you for the third time in a row now.

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, lots of cúm, overstim, multiple rounds, mating press, breeding, pet names (my girl), swearing.

Word count. 1.5k

A/N. DON’T LOOK AT MEEEE.

Boys who didn’t know they have a breeding kink.

Pfft, seriously? Those were straight out of hentai, he’d roll his eyes as his friends tittered about it. “Next thing you’ll tell me is that tentacle monsters are totally legit, too.”

Because he didn’t have a breeding kink, right?

Well, at least he didn’t think so…but right now, with you sprawled underneath him, eyes half-lidded, and dripping cunt sucking his cock in so deliciously - he thinks the idea might not be too far-fetched after all.

Ripping off what remained of your top, lips searing against your skin as he bit down hard - marking you. You were so fucking aroused, pretty pussy pooling and forming debauched little strings of slick that connect you to his heavy balls. Throaty, desperate little grunts leaving him each time they slap against your skin, in time with the tight, little circles he drew on your throbbing clit.

A quick, maddening tempo he was losing his mind to.

Right now, he was absolutely feral where he was usually suave in sex. For some reason, that image of you babysitting your friend’s kid earlier today burns into his mind, jolting some raw, carnal part of him awake as he keeps ramming his cock into your snug cunt. Over and over. Purposefully and sinfully.

Ah, how lovely you would look so round and glowing with his kid. You’d look so pretty carrying his seed. The swell of your belly just because of him - all him.

“Baby…” he starts, voice hoarse with need. At your answering mewl, writhing beneath him, he continues, words that come straight from his throbbing erection. “Can I fill you up? Lemme fill you up. Please, my girl.”

“Ah! Hah- yes. Yes yes yes, please. Cum in me baby, fill me up.” Raw, pleading whines leave your bruised lips. Drool already dripping down the corner of your mouth at how deliciously filthy he was fucking you.

Body trembling, a shiver runs down your spine as you watch his pupils dilate, cock twitching so animalistically inside you at your words. Thrusts increasing impossibly, his thumb was now frenzied on your clit, desperately chasing both your highs.

Now, you’ve heard of orgasms that sneak up on you. Silent, powerful waves that leave you speechless. And before you know it, you’re creaming around his thick cock. Stars behind your eyes and a breathless whisper of his name leaving your swollen lips.

Seeing you so debauched underneath him sends him over the edge as well, his own release exploding into your awaiting pussy. Filling you up. Hips never slowing down, pumping hot ropes of cum into you animalistically. Your walls flutter around him, as if desperately trying to suck his big cock back in with each thrust.

Yet, your moans turn into sensitive gasps at the way your loving boyfriend still doesn’t show any signs of stopping - even as your jolts of pleasure turn into nothing but mere tingles. Thighs clenching around his toned waist, a question.

“Shhh, don’t worry, pretty girl. One more, you gotta do is take it.”

And he’s pushing in again, swollen tip hot and still hard and hot against your sloppy entrance. Both of you hissing at the overstimulation. Oh. Oh, shit.

“Hngh- you’re-” God. Looking up into those darkened eyes, something carnal glinting dangerously in them - only one thought rings in your head, going straight down to your dripping cunt - you’d be lucky to make out of this in one piece.

You can do nothing but lay there and take it as large hands spread your legs even more shamefully. His cum warm and dribbling out of you, fully exposed to his hungry gaze. Body jerking as he manhandles your legs onto his sculpted shoulders. Folding you in half, pressing down down down-

A mating press. A fucking mating press.

Scratch that, you’d be lucky to make it out of this alive.

He doesn’t waste time.

Splitting you open on his thick cock immediately, pushing back into your tight walls. Head thrown back and eyes rolling to the back of his head so pornographically at the way your cunt flutters around him - wetter and sloppier than before with his cum, struggling to take him again. Warm - so warm with his seed.

God, he has to fight down some feral, animalistic part of him that wants to just plunge into you till his twitching balls smack your ass. Not even waiting for you to adjust.

But no. No, he must be careful with the mother of his children - treat you like fine porcelain. Just as soon as he breaks you like one right now.

Fuck.

One, harsh thrust. His achingly hard cock splitting you open, pushing against the heady combination of resistance and your walls milking him to insanity. Sweaty forehead meeting yours, he can’t decide between the sinful sight of your cunt clenching around his length and the way your swollen, kiss-bitten lips fall into such a pretty oh!

“Oh- hah! Baby, please. Don’t hold back.”

Not that he was going to anyway. “Then take it like a good girl while I breed you, my lil’ slut.” his voice low and husky, making your cunt clamp down in anticipation.

And before you know it, his tight balls are flush against your ass, thick head kissing your cervix so painfully good. Hips rearing back - back back back, pulsing veins massaging your walls as he pulls out till his furiously flushed tip is just teasing your entrance. Only to slam back into you with one rough thrust, with little regard for your poor, abused cunt.

The bed creaks in protest as he starts up a merciless pace, not taking the time to ease it in for either of you. Throbbing cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt in rough, purposeful strokes that have you gripping the headboard for stability.

Your cunt stings in both overstimulation and the way his tight balls smack against you at his unforgiving pace, strings of slick and cum connecting you to each other. “Hah- oh. So good, pussy sucking me dry so good Hngh-” he gasps out over the lewd slapping of skin on skin, mouth moving before his mind does.

Ass burning at the friction of his pelvis. Cum leaking out of you to pool beneath you. It was so fucking debauched. He was absolutely too far gone. Completely set on filling you till you explode.

“Oh, fuck. Gonna cum. Gonna fill you up again, my pretty girl- hngh-”

You whine at the pain and pleasure, far too cock-drunk to form any coherent sentences, body arching up for more more more-

You both cum with a raw, fucked-out whimper. Your walls stretch painfully as it tries to accommodate both his fat cock and another spurt of his cum. Tears stinging your eyes at the sensitivity, all you know is a burst of pleasure and the realization of how absolutely full you are of his seed.

It leaks out of you, seeping into your skin and you can almost feel it sloshing inside of your snug cunt. Mind hazy and vision blurring at this point. Yet, he still doesn’t stop.

You’re probably sobbing at this point - you don’t even know. Completely drunk on you and the idea of breeding you and you-

“One more, my girl. One more. Gotta make sure it takes.”

Raw, absolutely feral empty promises ring in your ears as he keeps moving inside you. Sensitively twitching cock dragging so maddeningly against your walls. Letting out raspy whimpers with each thrust, now nothing more than shallow, mindless movements fueled by pure animalistic need.

Fuck, ah, you were gonna fucking pass out.

“Hah- Baby, I can’t- oh-”

“You will.”

You squeal as your thighs clench around him, clit pulsing in pain and pleasure as he reaches down to start his rough abuse on it again. A final thrust. Only one press on your clit. Hard.

Your orgasm - if you can even call it that, nothing more than a distinct spike of pleasure - hits you with a jolt. Moaning and bowing into his weeping cock as you ride your highs out together. His poor, abused cock coating your walls white once more in thin, hot spurts. It overflows inside of you, cunt dripping and too full to take any more.

Maybe you black out, you don’t even know. Only brought back by the tear that hits your cheek with a wet splash! - blinking away the haze in your eyes to look up at your overstimulated boyfriend. His throbbing cock now shooting blanks inside of you.

Breaths ragged, blood roaring in your ears, you feel a sudden emptiness as he pulls out. A disappointed whine leaving you despite your state. Cum gushing out of you, forming a pool on the already-soaked bedsheets. Warm and so fucking sinful.

Pulling back to admire the view, his eyes widen, jaw dropping slightly at the heavenly sight. Greedy eyes locked on you and your pussy and you - blood rushing straight to his twitching cock. Reproachfully, you look up to meet his eyes, pupils blown and half-lidded, an insane glint in them that jolts you to your very core - and your abused cunt.

One thing was sure.

There’s no turning back.

- GOJO, CHOSO, Nanami, OIKAWA, Suna, KUROO, ATSUMU, EREN

A/N. Goals amirite?

Plagiarism not authorized.

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mattslolita · 4 months ago

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꒰ dealer!chris sturniolo ꒱ ⟡ headcanons !

��‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

꒰ SFW! ꒱

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ have met bambi at some house party — you was a friend of matt's, so he was only somewhat aware of your existence; real sweet and innocent, you don't know the first thing about any drugs. you're in the bathroom trying to escape the noisy atmosphere around yourself, when chris stumbles in on you, a joint hanging lazily at the edge of his lips.

"woah, can you knock next time?!"

"m'sorry didn't know anyone was in here...hey what you doin' in here, anyway? s'your friends at?"

"matt's downstairs talking to some girl, i don't know-"

"matt? you know my brother? wait, aht, i got it, know who you are, now...y'eyes, got like a uh, bambi thing goin' on, y'know? gonna call you bambi, yeah?"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ never let bambi touch any drugs — he's dead set on making sure you prolong the innocence about you in that aspect.

"not even one hit? c'mon chris-"

"y'know the rules bambi, s'don't even try it. y'not takin' no hits of shit."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ chris keeps pink rolling papers, because bambi likes the color and it reminds him of your pink ribbons you wear in your ponytails.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ have a specific playlist for when he takes bambi on deals with him — he's got dominic fike and marina playing throughout the car as you hum contently.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ have a glove compartment full of lollies and other sweets for when you're on deals with him. the sight of bambi's lips carelessly wrapped around a cherry lolly has his mind whirling.

"got any suckers for me today?"

"y'know where to find em', doll."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ spoil bambi all the time — he's buying you clothes, perfumes, and any little thing that reminds him of you.

"this top is cute, but i don't-"

"yeah, put it in the basket."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ not have a label on your relationship — bambi's a little naive and thinks might call you his, but he's not trying to label what you have going on any time soon.

"yo, isn't she your girlfriend? she's always with you."

"girlfriend? s'not my girlfriend, nah...she's my girl though, y'get me? not datin' or no shit, jus' my girl..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ always have bambi sat on his lap at parties — his hand drums in the innermost flesh of your thigh as he massages you, whilst the other hand diligently distributes to the awaiting palms of people.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ mad dog the fuck out of anyone who looks at bambi the wrong way — especially when you takes you on deals, he's seething with anger when a customer gets particularly too close to you.

"nice to see you, sweetheart, hopin' i'll see you more-"

"get the fuck away from her man, or i'm knockin' ya ass out where you stand."

"chris, seriously?"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ send bambi random fit checks + snaps to keep you updated when you aren't with each other. likewise, he makes you send the same back so he can keep track of where you are when he's not with you.

"new shirt, you like it?"

"it looks so good on you, baby!" ( he'd never admit baby drives him wild. )

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be affectionate to bambi in the most random ways — he's either got his arm slung around her, massaging her shoulder or he's got your legs resting atop of his own, massaging those whilst you scroll on your phone.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ always be kissing on bambi — forehead, cheek, arms, legs, anywhere he sees fit, really.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ make bambi wear his clothes when you stay the night at his place — he'll never admit that he loves the idea of having you in them, yet he can't resist the urge to smile when you're giggling sweetly about wearing them.

"i love this jersey! can i keep it baby, please?"

"y'know what, go head' sweetheart. looks good on you..."

꒰ NSFW! ꒱

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be extremely possessive in bed, especially if you're batting your eyelashes a little too much at a customer.

"he could never fuck you like this doll, could he?"

"f-fuck, no chris..."

"who's fuckin' pussy is this, huh? tell me who you fuckin' belong to."

"y-you, yours, fuck!"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ love love love to give bambi backshots — you're at a party and he's horny? he's taking you upstairs to the bathroom, bending you over the sink.

"such a good fuckin' girl, takin' my cock like this..."

"look at yourself in the mirror while i fuck you, sweet girl..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ finger bambi in the passenger seat if you're getting too whiny and can't wait.

"please chris, need to feel you inside me..."

"so fuckin' impatient bambi, jus' can't wait? s'all you get, my fingers...make a mess on em' c'mon angel..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ definitely have a breeding kink — though, he knows damn well the idea of bambi getting pregnant scares him, so he keeps you with birth control.

"fuck, such a tight pussy...gon' make you a mama, yeah? wan' have my babies don't you, ma?"

"gonna look so pretty carryin' our fuckin' kids, fuck..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ love high sex with you — he's lazily thrusting up into you while you ride him, head thrown back in pure ecstasy, or

"ridin' me so well ma, look so pretty on top of me like this..."

✦ his lidded eyes watch in anticipation as you're down below on your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes while you suck him off.

"gah, shit mama, makin' me feel so good...keep fuckin' goin' thas my good girl..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ would love doggy — when you wear those short shorts around him, all he can think about is having your ass up in the air while he's pounding into you like there's no tomorrow.

✦ love missionary, too — it's a more intimate position, but he can't help wanting to see your fucked out expression while he's deep inside you, watching your ever changing expression while you feel him deep inside of you.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be a little bad at aftercare at first, but he's slowly getting the hang of it the more time he spends with you — he's cleaning you up and massaging you after you guys finish, and ordering food for the both of you whilst he smokes a joint for himself.

( lilly's corner 💌 )

dealer!chris are my roots guys, i'm gonna start writing for him again. dealer!chris & bambi!reader are my literal babies & i hope you guys enjoy them! 💌

@muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @guccifrog @fawnchives @cottoncandyswisherz

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eloves-writes · 1 year ago

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careful who you’re talking to

[coriolanus snow x reader]

desc: snow hears a conversation with the academy boys about the girl he is secretly seeing and wants them to know who you belong to warnings: snow being snow like fr (toxic, controlling, insane, blah blah blah), smut, exhibitionism, public sex, unwarranted sexual comments about reader behind her back, she/her pronouns used, reader is wearing a dress, if i need to add any other warnings please lmk a/n: hiiiii! i'm back again. this is slightly unhinged and i didn't mean for it to be this unhinged but anyway hope u enjoy, send any and all coriolanus requests my way! mwah mwah mwah ily this work contains mature themes, minors dni

it was a cold night in the capitol, and you were steadily sipping a glass of posca to keep warm in your blood-red dress. the silky material was slit up your leg and cut down to reveal just the right amount of cleavage; you might feel a chill but you looked damn good and everybody knew it.

especially coriolanus snow. the two of you had been spending a lot of time together recently- behind bookshelves in the library, in dark corners of the academy halls, bend over desks in empty classrooms. it had begun as purely physical. stress relief. but after a month or so, you had each caught feelings for the other and were struggling with whether or not to admit it. and in that moment, he was also struggling tremendously to take his eyes off of you.

you stood talking across the room with arachne and livia, unable to concentrate on whatever meaningless gossip they were discussing with the feeling of coriolanus’ ice blue eyes on you; there was an electric thrill passing between you like you were connected with a live wire. to say your relationship so far had been hot and heavy would be an extremely severe understatement, and you found your mind constantly occupied with the thought of him touching you and the need to have him touch you again.

“i think y/n is checking me out,” festus creed smirked to the group of boys around him.

coriolanus almost snorted in amusement. you were obviously looking at him, and only him.

“something funny, snow?” gaius asked sharply. “jealous, perhaps?”

snow reserved his irritation. “not at all, breen.”

“whoever she is looking at,” felix stated earnestly, “i’m certainly jealous of them. i mean, just look at her. she looks fucking hot.”

festus nodded in agreement. “i’d love to rip that dress off of her. she acts so innocent, but you just know she likes it rough.”

coriolanus felt his blood boil. you were his. how dare they talk about you like you were a common whore? perhaps you did like it rough. he would know, he was the one fucking you. not these basic capitol losers. none of them could make you scream the way he did. none of them had scratches down their backs beneath their shirts from your nails. only he did. only he ever would, and he would make sure it stayed that way.

the other boys laughed, agreeing with festus. adding on their own ideas. detailing the ways they’d make you fuck them. describing the times you had supposedly sent them signals. assuming that you did not already belong to snow, that you would even think about going near them. that you would get on your knees for them like you always did for coriolanus.

he couldn’t listen to them any longer. “she’s seeing somebody,” he jeered, fixing the cuffs of his jacket and making definitive, unquestionable eye contact with you and subtly tilting his head towards the exit.

festus laughed incredulously. “is she now? i think we’d have heard.”

oh you’ll hear it alright.

“yes,” coriolanus replied with a chilling calm, watching you make your way to the door. “if you’ll excuse me.”

on the steps outside the ridiculously grand building, you waited patiently for snow to follow you out. it was only a few minutes before you heard the door open again, turning to face corio and immediately sensing anger. you worried, sometimes, about his anger. you knew he wouldn’t seriously harm you, but the same could most certainly not be said for any others who dared cross his path. the future president of panem could only afford so much blood on his hands.

“what’s wrong, coriolanus?” you asked gently.

he inhaled deeply and stared into your eyes in a way that strongly suggested you would be unable to walk the next morning. you waited for him to answer.

“you shouldn’t have worn that dress," he warned.

“what?”

“you heard me.”

either the cold or a fucked up part of you sent shivers down your spine, hairs standing up on your neck. your underwear dampened at his fury.

“i thought you would like it, corio,” you flirted, stepping closer to him. he placed a large, firm hand on your waist.

“i do like it, y/n,” he said before speaking in a low voice. “i would like it better if you took it off.”

you smiled and leaned up to kiss him, but he turned his head. you pulled a face in protest.

“behave,” he spat. “so desperate. do you not want to know why you shouldn’t have worn this?”

“yes, corio,” you replied, doing your best impression of somebody who wasn’t about to throw yourself on top of him. he liked when you were patient.

“because every man in that room wants to see it on their bedroom floor," he attested lowly.

“and you’re jealous,” you smirked.

coriolanus suddenly grabbed a fistful of your hair and roughly pulled your head backwards so that your face was tilted towards his. “and nobody else should be looking at you like that.”

a jolt of excitement ran through you. “corio-”

he gave your hair another tug. “say you’re mine.”

“am i yours?”

he realised instantly the meaning of your question. he didn’t have to think about his reply; he had thought about it every waking moment since the day you met. “you’re mine. say it.”

“i’m yours.”

“good girl,” snow spoke deeply before kissing you like he’d never kissed you before. without breaking apart from your lips, coriolanus guided you around to the side of the building. he counted the windows you passed until finally stopping by one that was cracked open and pushing you against the cold wall. as he removed his jacket and unfastened his belt, he looked inside the hall and you assumed he was checking no one was looking. he wasn’t. he was making sure that festus creed and the other boys were still stood in the same spot; directly in front of this particular window, and far enough from the rest of the partygoers that only the boys would hear you.

you gathered the skirt of your dress at your waist and wrapped your legs around corio’s sturdy form as he reached to move your underwear to the side. he circled your clit until you were practically whimpering, then slid two fingers inside of you.

“corio, feels so good,” you moaned softly.

he kept his same pace with his fingers, fucking you into a state of bliss where he knew you would be uninhibited and so drunk with his stimulation that people would think you’d finished every glass of posca in this stupid party. coriolanus was too good at what he was doing, you were on the edge of release within minutes and still desperately trying to quiet yourself in the name of dignity.

“corio, please, corio, i’m so close,” you whimpered into his neck.

he pulled away his hand, making you whine in displeasure. he liked to do that. liked to know he was in complete control of you, you would only cum when he willed it.

corio looked through the window again, but the boys had yet to hear anything out of the ordinary. they were still laughing amongst themselves. he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, using the slick on from your pussy to stroke himself before he pushed inside of you.

you tried again to stay quiet, but coriolanus began to coax you. “look at you, taking me so well. you wouldn’t let anybody else fuck you like this, would you? who makes you feel this good, huh?”

you couldn’t hold back anymore, his beautiful face spewing such foul things whilst fucking you raw and digging his fingertips into your flushed skin. “you do, corio. fuck,” you moaned, loudly enough that festus turned to look outside.

coriolanus smirked as they made eye contact. the initial confusion about the sounds coming from outside, the look of shock as he realised his classmate was balls deep in a girl he had pushed against the exterior of a building in the damn capitol, his face finally dropping as he realised who corio was fucking by the colour of your messed up hair and the visible strap of your dress, his eyes widening as he heard the things snow was saying to you.

your moans were getting louder too as you got even closer to your orgasm, whimpering corio’s name and repeating “i’m yours,” like a mantra.

snow took his gaze from the boys to you, feeling satisfied that he’d proved his point and starting to performatively enjoy himself, knowing yours weren't the only eyes on him. his pace quickened, driving you over the edge and making you clench around him as you came. he moaned aloud himself as continued to fuck you through your high and the overstimulation that came after until he finished inside of you.

you were completely fucked out, relishing the feeling of snow’s cum beginning to drip down your thighs after he swiftly removed your underwear to fold into his back pocket. he picked his discarded jacket up from the floor and placed it over your shoulders, kissing your head and leading you to the front of the building and helping you into a car which would take you both home. before you walked away from the window though, coriolanus smoothly pulled your lace panties from his pocket and waved them nonchalantly in the night air, catching the attention of the rest of the group. you would never have to know why he fucked you, only that the boys would stop bothering you now they knew who you belonged to.

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satcrvz · 7 months ago

Text

LOVEFOOL!

— in which your boyfriend sneaks into your room and decides it’s a good idea to watch a horror movie.

SATORU GOJO X F!READER, readers love language is lowk physical touch, not proofread (are we shocked anymore)

thud.

you averted your gaze to the direction the sound game from, and behold, it was gojo. you began to question him. what could he possibly want at eleven at night?

"satoru? what are you doing here?!" you ask.

"you don't want me here?" he cries dramatically. you swore you’d never closed the space between the two of you that fast. your palm rose to cover his mouth.

you quickly reminded him, "quiet down! you know you're not supposed to be here." he gives a nod in affirmation to your words and you let go. you took a step back and started up the conversation again.

"so.." you began, "why are you here?"

he scoffs and makes his way to your bed. "well, you weren’t answering my texts." he says while falling back onto your bed.

you smile at him before making your way to situate yourself next to him. "you could’ve callled me."

he hums at your words, "yeah. guess i just wanted to see you." he props himself up on his elbows to look at you sitting next to him.

the sound of heavy rain followed by lightning and thunder catches your attention.

"damnit." you say as you get up to close the window.

he makes his way to you in an attempt to persuade you to stay, but his plan backfires. for the second time tonight, satoru gojo has fallen in your room.

this earned a laugh from you, which was probably louder than a 6'3" guy hitting your hardwood.

"baby, love of my life, what part of 'you aren't supposed to be here' didn’t click?"

"that one was an accident! i tripped over my slide! come help me up, please?"

you sighed and extended your hand towards him.

"you can stay, i'm not going to send you back into the storm."

"yes!" he says while pulling his elbow down with his hand in a fist. you laugh and roll your eyeballs at him.

the two of you were finally settled on your bed. the scene consisted of his back resting on the headboard with one of your plushies on his lap, while you scrolled through movies with him refusing any you suggested.

"babe! what do you want to watch then!? you’ve rejected like, the last 5 movies and said maybe to one of them."

he moves the plush in his lap to face you and puts on a high pitched voice, "turn on a horror film!"

"no way."

"pleaseee! it'll be good, i promise."

"and what do i get in return?" you ask.

"super hot boyfriend protecting you from the big bad monsters? i dunno."

you hand the remote to him and let him do his own thing. "you’re so cocky."

after scrolling through the horror selection, he finally lands on the conjuring 2. yeah you definitely weren’t going to sleep after this.

"move it buddy." he’s confused on what you're doing, but quickly catches on after he sees you removing the animal from his left hand and replacing it with your own.

the movie went by and around the 30 minute mark, you’d become startled by the man on the screen. you jumped but your face remained the same. you wouldn’t have said anything about it, but your boyfriend started lightly snickering.

"did you seriously jump?" he looks over to you.

"oh, shut up!" you raise your hand that was intertwined with his and gently slap the back of his hand.

toward the end of the movie, you started to drift asleep but managed to stay awake. gojo saw this as the perfect opportunity to mess with you. he put his hands on both sides of your stomach grabbed you as he said "boo!" in a hushed tone.

your eyes widened as you jumped, then quickly returned to normal to give him an unamused look.

"i hate you." you say.

"if you hated me, you would've sent me back home." he says.

"i hate that you're right." you say while draping yourself over him. " 'm gonna sleep now, you should too."

"i will once the movie finishes."

you hum in acknowledgement and began going to sleep. it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, given that you were already tired.

"i love you." he says before shutting off the tv.

he knew he wasn't supposed to be there and the risk of your parents seeing him there, but he didn’t care. if it meant he got to spend time with you, then he’d take that risk.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #✧; satcrvz writes!#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader

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pucksandpower · 10 months ago

Text

Of Roomates and Revenge

Lewis Hamilton x fake girlfriend!Reader

Featuring Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, Charles Leclerc, Pierre Gasly, Esteban Ocon, and Nico Rosberg

Summary: in which your search for a free place to stay leads to helping one half of Brocedes live out his petty fantasy for revenge … and falling in love while doing so

Cat and Apartment Sitter Needed (Monaco)

Compensation: €1500/week plus all the Red Bull you can drink

I’m a world-traveling young professional who is rarely home. My two beautiful and rambunctious bengal cats need someone to stay with them in my Monaco apartment whenever I’m away for work.

The ideal candidate will be an experienced cat person who is prepared to deal with a lot of energy, chaos, and shenanigans from these two little terrors. They knock everything off every surface, wrestle at 3am, and will likely attempt to smother you while you sleep. If you can handle that, we’ll get along just fine.

In addition to caring for the cats, you will need to keep my place relatively tidy (i.e. no crushed Red Bull cans or fast food wrappers everywhere), collect any packages or mail that arrives, and randomly turn a few lights on and off every evening so the neighbors don’t get suspicious.

The position is ideal for a mature student, digital nomad, or someone between living situations who wants an amazing place to stay for free in one of the world’s hotspots.

Drop me a line if you think you can handle the cats from hell and wouldn't mind living in a 230 m² penthouse apartment with a private terrace, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a badass view of the Mediterranean. Preference goes to non-smokers who follow directions well and won’t throw ragers when I’m gone.

Send a brief intro, your experience with cats, and a couple photos attached. Urgently need someone for various stretches starting mid-February.

Do NOT contact me with unsolicited services or offers.

Live-in Cactus Caretaker Needed (Monaco)

Compensation: €1000/week, free snacks, and you can play my Xbox

I’m a young dude who’s rarely home because of my job that involves a lot of international travel. I have a single cactus plant that I promised my mum I would keep alive until she visits again. The thing is ... I have absolutely no idea how to care for plants. Like, I nearly killed it the first week by forgetting it existed.

What I need is someone responsible who can essentially live in my swanky Monaco apartment whenever I’m gone and keep my tiny cactus friend alive.

Duties would include:

Watering the cactus like ... once a month? Twice a month? I don’t know how often it needs water

Not letting the cactus die in any other way (pretty sure they need sunlight too … I think)

Keeping the place tidy (I’m a bit of a mess)

In return, you’d get:

A sick apartment all to yourself with a stunning view, giant TV, and full kitchen (please for the love of god be careful in there ... I almost burned the place down trying to make a grilled cheese once. Seriously, I'm not exaggerating. I almost went up in flames over a silly sandwich. If you can't even operate a microwave, we may have problems. There’s only room for one idiot like that in Monaco — and it’s me)

Unlimited snacks/drinks from my well-stocked pantry

Free rein over my gaming setup (just don’t break anything)

First dibs on any events/reservations I can’t make

The ideal person is responsible, shows they can follow basic instructions for cactus care, laidback since you’ll be alone a lot, and trustworthy enough not to wreck the place or throw illegal parties. Having a green thumb would be great, but frankly if you can manage not to kill the one plant, that’s good enough for me.

Send a brief bio about yourself and your qualifications as a cactus/housesitter if interested! I’m gone quite frequently starting in February so could use someone ASAP.

No scammy offers or soliciting, please!

Roommate Needed to Drink Wine and Listen to My Woes (Monaco)

Compensation: Free rent in a nice apartment, plus all the wine you can drink

Are you a good listener? Do you enjoy dry red wines and occasional bouts of tears and venting? If so, I’ve got the perfect living situation for you!

I’m a youngish guy with a high-stress job that involves a lot of traveling. When I’m home in Monaco, I tend to unwind by polishing off a couple bottles of nice Bordeaux or Burgundy while complaining about work, my colleagues, and my rival who is giving me really mixed signals.

What I need is a roommate who doesn’t mind a little drunken blubbering here and there.

You’ll get:

Your own bedroom in my spacious 2BR/2BA apartment in the La Condamine district

Rights to my kitchen, living room with large TV, piano, and music recording equipment

Access to the building’s pool, sauna, fitness center, and lounge areas

As much wine as you can drink (and more)

In exchange, you’ll be expected to:

Listen to my periodic rants and rave sessions without judgement

Preferably nod along or offer supportive-sounding feedback like “Yeah, that’s really tough man” or “Wow, they sound terrible”

Refill wine glasses as needed

Maybe rub my back or pat my head if I’m really going through it

The ideal candidate is a decent human being who can empathize with the high-pressure struggles of a young professional trying to make it in a cut-throat career.

You’ll need a decent amount of free time and lots of patience. Prior experience as a life coach, therapist, or sympathetic drinking buddy is a plus.

If you can handle crying guys after a few too many glasses of Châteauneuf-du-Pape, inquire within! Include a little about yourself and why you would make a good non-judgmental wine friend. Merci!

Expand Your Search? Similar Opportunities:

Impartial Referee Wanted for Parking Lot Brawls (France)

Compensation: €400 per event

Two athletic young men in their late-20s are looking for a level-headed third party to oversee and officiate their semi-regular parking lot boxing matches. Yes, you read that right — we’re talking straight-up fisticuffs in the back alley behind the Circuit Paul Ricard.

A little background: We’ve been frenemies/rivals since we were kids — constantly competing in friends, employment opportunities, you name it. There’s a healthy amount of hatred between us that simply can't be resolved through words alone. Every few months, we feel the need to just take out our pent-up aggression on each other's faces.

Up until now, it’s been an unregulated shitshow with no real rules or oversight. We’re looking for someone impartial who can:

Set some fair ground rules around where/how we can strike

Ensure no prop weapons get involved (last time he tried to scalp me with a wrench)

Officiate and declare a winner once one of us is knocked out or quits

Ideally have some basic first-aid skills in case of a nasty cut or broken nose

We will pay €400 cash at the start of each bout. You’ll get a free show of two extremely fit dudes wailing on each other until there’s a clear victor.

Loser exits with his tail between his legs, winner gets to gloat for the next couple months until we run it back.

If you can be a neutral third party and aren’t squeamish about a little blood, send us your info with some details about yourself and your experience resolving conflicts (legally or not). First come first served — our next fight is tentatively scheduled for mid-May!

No flakes or perverts, please. Serious connoisseurs of violence only.

P.S. Don’t be scared to give out penalties (one of us is used to that)

Actor or Actress Needed to Annoy Ungrateful Ex-Friend (Monaco)

Compensation: €2700 per week, free luxury accommodations

I’m a successful guy in my late 30s looking to hire someone to pretend to be my significant other for a few months. Before you get the wrong idea, let me explain ...

I had a major falling out with a former best friend who stabbed me in the back years ago. We live in the same apartment building, just one floor apart.

I’m trying to show him how amazing my life still is without him … and maybe make him jealous in the process.

That’s where you come in. I need you to move into my penthouse temporarily and act as my gorgeous new boyfriend/girlfriend.

Your main duties would include:

Loudly introducing yourself to said ex-friend by knocking on his door and being line “Hi, is [insert my name] here?” Then pretend to be embarrassed and apologize when he tells you that you’re at the wrong apartment

Hang out in the hallway near his place and have very loud fake conversations detailing our imaginary passionate nights together (rated R)

Post cringy coupley photos on your social media of us dressed up going out, cuddling on my yacht, etc

Ideally you’re an aspiring actor/actress or just a really convincing liar. Being somewhat loud and dramatic is a plus. You’ll need to be willing to play along if my petty ex-friend tries to confront us.

In return, you’ll be living in a lavish penthouse with all the amenities for free. You’ll have your own private suite and can hang out on the oversized balcony, by the pool, or in the media room when you’re off the clock. Might also be able to introduce you to some high-profile people if you’re trying to network.

Oh, and my bulldog will provide plenty of cuddles.

If you can pull off a remarkably realistic fake partner act and aren’t afraid of a little light deception, hit me up! Please include a couple photos plus a bit about yourself and your acting experience. Aiming to start mid-April.

I’m an equal opportunity employer — girlfriend, boyfriend, nonbinary partner, you name it. All genders welcome to apply for the role if you’ve got what it takes! Only preference is that you have especially luscious hair … for reasons.

No weirdos please.

Hi,

Okay, I have to admit — your ridiculous request to hire a fake girlfriend to make your ex-best friend jealous is quite possibly the pettiest thing I’ve ever heard. And I absolutely love it.

I’m literally the perfect person for this role. Petty vengeance is my middle name (well, not really, it's actually Y/M/N ... but you get the idea).

A little about my qualifications:

Took some theatre electives in university so I can really sell the dramatics

Lots of experience putting on an Oscar-worthy performance faking ... well, you know ... thanks to my douchebag ex-boyfriend who couldn’t be bothered to learn how to pleasure a woman 🙄

Not afraid to get LOUD and will happily reenact our “passionate nights” at earsplitting volumes in that hallway

Can pull off playing dumb if your friend tries to interrogate me about you (“Oh [whatever your name is]? Yeah he’s just the best at ... stuff”)

No shame in my pettiness game — I once spent my weekly paycheck on a Cameo just so an ex’s favorite celebrity would call him a dingleberry

In terms of looks, I’ve been told I have just the right amount of “hot” to make your poor pal jealous without it being too unbelievable. I’m attaching a few photos for reference.

Let me know if you want to meet up for a glass of wine and we can workshop some juicy storylines for our imaginary romance. Perhaps I was a former fling you rediscovered? A hot younger thing giving you a new lease on life? The possibilities are endless!

I’m a pro at faking it, so selling our relationship will be a piece of cake. Your ex-friend will be bright green with envy by the time I’m through!

Let’s make him regret the day he double-crossed you, babe.

Cheers,

Y/N

r/offmychest

u/NotBritneySpears · 16h

My ex-best friend’s new girlfriend is the WORST!

I really need to get this off my chest. My upstairs neighbor’s new girlfriend is, without a doubt, the most insufferable human being on the planet. She’s loud, obnoxious, and seems to take immense pleasure in tormenting me for some reason.

A little background: I used to be really close friends with my neighbor. We had a big falling out a while back over ... well, it’s a long story. We don’t talk anymore and there’s a lot of resentment between us. Clearly the universe is trying to get back at me now with this new girl.

This chick has made it her personal mission to give me a play-by-play account of every single intimate encounter she has with him. And I mean DETAILED accounts. The other day I was just trying to enjoy my morning coffee and I hear her incredibly shrill voice from right outside my door:

“Oh he was an ANIMAL last night! The things he did with his tongue, I thought I was going to pass out!”

Like, seriously? Keep it to yourself, weirdo! That’s just the tame stuff too. Sometimes she’ll go into pretty graphic detail describing body parts and positions that I really didn’t need a mental picture of.

Here’s the thing — she quite obviously positions herself to be as close as possible to my apartment without actually trespassing — I mean, she doesn’t even live on my floor for god’s sake! So every word comes through crystal clear. I’ve confronted her about it a few times and she just plays dumb, like:

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry if I was being loud! We just get so carried away sometimes, you know how it is,” with this stupid ditzy valley girl voice and hair toss.

I don’t know if my former best friend put her up to this or if she’s just a massive troll in her own right. But it’s like psychological warfare at this point. Literally ANY time I’m home, I have to listen to her yap about their Sex Olympian-level escapades.

My wife even heard them once and thought I was playing porn at an insane volume! She doesn’t believe me that it’s just this deranged lady running her mouth constantly.

I’m half-tempted to start recording her rants and blast them back at full volume to give them a taste of their own medicine. Or maybe start describing lurid details of my own (admittedly not quite so colorful) sex life in retaliation.

I don’t know, maybe I’m being oversensitive. But living under these two insufferable assholes is a waking nightmare. I need to move or something because this is massively affecting my peace of mind. Who knows if they will ever get bored of tormenting me and move on.

Rant over. Thanks for letting me vent about the neighbors from hell.

u/chronicgossiper · 12h

Damn, that sucks man. Your neighbor and his gf sound like immature assholes trying to get a rise out of you. I’d look into noise complaint options or even see if you can get them evicted for harassment.

Reply to u/chronicgossiper · 11h

Seriously? You really think the landlord would evict someone over this? It’s not like they’re blasting music at 3am. Sounds more like passive aggressive pettiness than anything illegal.

u/chronicgossiper · 10h

Idk, having to listen to people loudly describe their sex acts against your will seems like it could qualify as harassment or creating a hostile environment. Worth exploring at least if they won’t stop.

u/NotBritneySpears · 9h

Eviction isn’t really an option here since we all own our apartments and there’s no landlord dictating that. It’s not that type of building.

u/nosyandproud · 8h

Did your former friend move into that building first or did you move in knowing he lived there?

u/NotBritneySpears · 7h

He was there first, I bought my place a few years after him when I could afford it. Never expected he'd pull something this childish.

Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 6h

So you willingly moved into the same building as your ex-best friend that you aren’t on speaking terms with? That’s just asking for drama, dude.

u/NotBritneySpears · 5h

It’s a great building in an amazing location. I wasn’t going to not pursue the opportunity just because he lives there too. It’s a big place, I didn’t think we’d be running into each other much.

Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 4h

Still seems like a weird decision to willingly insert yourself into his orbit like that if the relationship was so fractured. Probably should’ve seen some fallout coming.

u/nosyandproud · 3h

Yeah exactly, why would you move somwhere your ex-friend lives if you two clash that much? Kinda put yourself in this situation.

u/NotBritneySpears · 2h

Okay, let me be clear — he and I were best friends for over a decade before we had a colossal falling out a few years ago. We’re not just some casual ex-buddies who don’t get along. We were legitimately very close for most of our lives until things went nuclear between us. When I decided to move into the building, our friendship had been over for a while already. I really didn’t anticipate he’d take things to this vindictive level years later. I’m not going to miss out on my dream home just because of what happened between us.

Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 1h

This is getting juicyyy, do tell about what caused the falling out!

u/NotBritneySpears

Not really trying to dredge up old drama, that’s a whole other can of worms. The girlfriend situation is annoying enough as is.

Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 51m

Fair enough, you gave context. Still think you two need to have an adult conversation about boundaries. Purposely trying to loudly narrate their sex life at you is unhinged.

r/relationships

u/yourusername · 19h

I’m catching real feelings for the guy who hired me to be his fake girlfriend to get revenge on his ex-friend ... help?

Buckle up folks, because I’ve got one hell of a tangled situation to unpack here. This is going to be a long one.

About a month ago, I responded to this Facebook Marketplace ad from a guy (let’s call him L) looking to hire someone to pretend to be his new girlfriend. The goal was to make his former best friend/downstairs neighbor jealous after a brutal falling out between them.

I know, I know, it sounds ridiculous. But the benefits were good and I’d be living in his insane luxury penthouse in Monaco rent-free. More importantly, I really vibed with L’s pettiness and desire to get deliciously pathetic revenge on his ex-friend. My last boyfriend was the actual worst, so I was absolutely here for any slightly insane Karen antics.

Anyway, we hit it off immediately at the “audition” over drinks. L is brilliant, successful, gorgeous, and fucking hilarious in a sarcastic, unfiltered way. We both have a wicked mean streak and frankly get off on emotionally messy situations. It was like looking into a mirror — two beautiful trainwrecks finding each other in the wreckage.

From night one, we had crazy chemistry. The back-and-forth banter was electric, we finished each other’s sentences, etc. I felt so comfortable around him despite the bizarre circumstances. I assumed it was all fun and games to toy with his former best friend.

But over the last few weeks of loudly chronicling our “sex marathons”!outside said ex-friend’s door and doing phony coupley things around the city, I’ve realized my feelings are ... complicated. L and I CONNECT on a deeper level, in addition to just being partners in crime. We’ll be tangled up watching movies and he’ll make some perfectly timed quippy comment that has me cackling until my abs hurt. Or we’ll get deliriously wasted and end up baring our souls about our upbringings, dreams, fears — everything.

I’ve never been so open or comfortable around someone before. Our walls are gone. And the most messed up part? Some small, perverse part of me loves the strange intimacy we’ve manufactured through this farce. How much closer can you get than meticulously co-creating a fictional relationship?

In the beginning, I think we were both just in it for the laughs and pettiness factor. But something shifted for me recently. One night we were drunkenly rehearsing how I was going to describe our latest imaginary tryst to his ex-friend and ... I don’t know, I couldn’t stop staring at his lips while he was talking. His face was so close to mine and I felt breathless. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to ditch the script and really kiss him. I had to physically stop myself from lunging forward.

Later, when I went back to my room, I was hit with a crushing wave of realization — I have actual romantic FEELINGS for this basketcase who hired me to play-act as his girlfriend! What the actual fuck?

Guys, I’m in too deep. How did I let this happen? L is technically still my employer and this whole operation has an expiration date. His former friend is already growing visibly annoyed, so Phase 2 (feign a dramatic breakup, I move out, L moves on with his life) is likely coming up very soon.

Do I just bury my feelings and end this gig without saying anything? Do I risk the humiliation of confessing my heart to someone who was only pretending to want me around? Or should I just go for it and make out with him next time we’re tangled on the couch? I’m spiraling here!

The pettiness that brought us together may also tear us apart. Or maybe I’m just a sad clown who read too much into a fake relationship. Someone slap me with a reality check, please! I need perspective from the outside.

Tl;DR - Developed legit romantic feelings for the guy who hired me to be his fake girlfriend as part of his weird revenge plot. Not sure if I should come clean, keep it professional, or start actually making out with him for real. This was NOT part of the deal!

u/judgingloudly · 18h

Oh honey, you are in a MESS. This is like a bad romcom plot but IRL. I think your only real option is to fess up and tell L how you’re feeling. Contrary to popular belief, the fake dating trope doesn’t always have to stay pretend!

If he doesn’t feel the same way, at least you put it all out there and can move on with some dignity intact. But who knows — from how you describe the crazy chemistry and connection, he might feel relieved you said something first! Don’t let this fire burn out without taking your shot. Oh and definitely keep us updated, I’m invested now!

Reply to u/judgingloudly · 17h

I agree with this take. You already acknowledged you’re in too deep emotionally. Might as well put those cards on the table and let the chips fall where they may. Shooting your shot is always better than letting the “what if” eat away at you forever!

u/livefordrama · 16h

I’m sorry but I simply must ask — how did you land a gig like this? And does he happen to have any more openings for a fake girlfriend? Asking for a friend …

u/yourusername · 15h

Honestly it was a random Facebook ad looking for exactly this — a girl to move in and fake date this guy to drive his feuding neighbor up the wall. I applied semi-joking but he picked me!

As for openings, not that I know of ... yet. I may have to quit soon depending how this all plays out, so will keep you posted if my spot opens up!

Reply to u/yourusername · 14h

Omg please do! I would 100% take on a role like this, it sounds like a total riot.

u/unpaidtherapist · 13h

Girl, I think you already know what you have to do here. Is keeping things professional and never admitting your feelings really an option at this point? You’re clearly enamored with this guy and he seems to reciprocate the intensity at least platonically so far. I say GO FOR IT!

Just pull him aside one day, say “hey this isn’t just an act for me anymore, I really like you and need to know if there’s a possibility for us or not.” If he’s as caught off guard and freaked out as you’re implying, a direct conversation is needed to get those cards on the table. Don’t die wondering “what if?” That’s my advice.

u/everydayopportunist · 12h

This is so wild, I’m living for this drama! Seriously might need to pursue some similar gigs myself, apparently that’s where all the romance happens these days 😂

u/devilsadvocate · 11h

I’m sorry but I have to go against the grain here — please do NOT make a move or confess any feelings! This guy hired you for a very specific job under very specific pretenses. Catching real feels was not part of the deal at all. Selfishly throwing that at him out of the blue would be so unfair after he opened his home to you. I worry he could feel betrayed and violated even if he did secretly like you back.

My advice? Give it a few weeks, see if these feelings persist or if it was just a passing crush brought on by the intimacy you’ve found yourselves in. If it’s still intense after cooling off, then maybe consider looping him in. But don’t go nuclear until you're absolutely sure. You could risk imploding a good work situation and friendship over a temporary infatuation. Tread very lightly!

Reply to u/devilsadvocate · 10h

I’m with this take, OP shouldn’t jeopardize her living situation if her feelings might be fleeting. Taking a step back and giving it more time could provide clarity. It’s easy to get caught up in the fantasy.

The more prudent move is to wait until the “job” wraps up before considering opening that can of worms. If feelings persist minus the contrived closeness, she’ll know it's real. But springing it on the guy now seems wildly unfair and could blow up in her face.

r/AmITheAsshole

u/veganGOAT · 15h

AITA for turning down my fake girlfriend after she admitted feelings, only to want her back days later?

I think I may have tremendously fucked up in a spectacularly messy way. Let me walk you through the tangled web I’ve woven ...

A couple months ago, I (39M) hired this woman to essentially move into my apartment and pretend to be my new girlfriend. I know it sounds batshit crazy … but I was trying to make my ex-best friend/neighbor jealous after a bitter falling out between us.

She was the perfect partner for this ruse — sarcastic and spunky, with a hint of unhinged energy. We bonded instantly over bottles of wine and throwing deliciously overblown “loud sex” performances in the hallway to drive my ex-friend nuts. What was meant to be a transaction quickly bloomed into a legitimately fun, effortless friendship.

Soon after, we started having real sex. It sort of just … happened, albeit very awkwardly at first. Like “well this is weird, want to try it for real just to see?” And what do you know, we had insane chemistry between the sheets too! We were soon sleeping together nearly every night, always swearing afterwards that it was “just for fun” and didn’t mean anything more.

But I started catching feelings. She was hilarious, confident, beautiful — everything I could ever want in a partner. We had connected on a deeper level through the medium of batshit pettiness. And our physical intimacy only amplified that bond.

Cut to a couple weeks ago. We had just finished a particularly athletic round and were cuddled up, spent. Out of nowhere, she pipes up nervously: “Hey … I think I’m really falling for you. I don't want this to just be sex or games anymore. I want to really try being together.”

I froze. The words I had been longing to hear suddenly terrified me in that moment. My throat clenched up as a wave of panic crashed over me (yes, I’m well aware of how stupid this was in hindsight). After an agonizing pause, I managed to choke out: “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. This thing between us was only ever supposed to be fake. I don’t think of you that way.”

I could actually see her face crumble. She quickly mumbled “okay” and slid out of my bed, wrapping a sheet around herself to cover her dejection. I swear I heard muffled sobs through the wall once she was back in her guest room. I felt like a piece of shit.

The next few days were some of the most awkward, brutal tension I’ve ever experienced. She was now acting like a scorned woman just doing her job, no intimacy whatsoever. We could barely make eye contact.

It took seeing her so closed off, so cold, for me to realize how much I desperately missed her warmth, humor, friendship. How much I longed for the easy intimacy we once had, both emotional and physical. I tried a few times to apologize or explain myself, but she brushed me off — utterly walled off to protect herself.

After days of wrestling with my suppressed feelings, I realized that I was in love with this wonderful woman. Hiring her as a fake girlfriend was one of the best things I had ever done because it brought her into my life … and now I didn’t want to let her go. She was becoming my person, even if she had started out as a farce.

But here’s where I really need some impartial perspective — AITA for freezing up and rejecting her confession?

I didn’t meant to tank her feelings so callously. I think I just ... panicked in that moment. The idea of committing to a real relationship terrified me in ways I didn’t expect. My career keeps me constantly on the go, always jet-setting to the next thing. Could I really give a romance the time and energy it deserves right now?

Part of me also felt massively conflicted about the circumstances. I’m literally paying her to pretend to be my girlfriend as a sort of ongoing petty revenge. If I admitted I wanted to actually date her, wouldn't that blur consent lines in some messed up way? Like, is she just going along with it because she’s on the payroll?

I know these both sound like flimsy excuses, but they were very real fears racing through my mind in that moment. Fears that made me impulsively reject her, despite how utterly gone I was.

Now, days later, those same hangups don’t seem so insurmountable. Maybe she and I could make something work, travel schedules and all. And if she reciprocated feelings, it would be a starting point — not her just placating me for a check. We could rip up the old arrangement and start fresh.

But I haven’t confessed any of this to her yet out of gut-wrenching cowardice. She’s still giving me this cold, professional shoulder. I don’t know how to begin recanting my idiotic reaction and opening up about the REAL reasons I panicked — the commitment fears, the moral dilemma, all of it.

Part of me wonders if I even have the right to try and pursue things with her at this point? I absolutely shattered her feelings for my own hangups just days ago. AITA for potentially stringing her along further by trying to retroactively take it all back? Maybe I’ve missed my window and should just let this phase of my life be over before it gets even more painful and messy?

Ugh, I’m rambling now. The crux is — AITA for how I recklessly rejected her in that moment? Do I even have a right to try and make amends after that thunderous fumble? Or should I just take the L, chalk it up to collateral damage of being in the world’s most messy pseudo-relationship, and move on?

u/juryofone · 14h

YTA, but only because you handled the initial rejection in the worst way possible. Your reasons for hesitating are somewhat understandable. But you really dropped the ball in communicating that to her in the moment.

Instead of calmly explaining where your headspace was at, you just blurted out a kneejerk rejection that crushed her feelings. No wonder she went ice cold — that had to sting like hell! If you had taken a breath and talked it through with more nuance, maybe you could’ve reached an understanding.

The good news is, you’ve now realized how much you DO want this woman in your life as more than a pretend romance. I don’t think you’re an AH for having those feelings or wanting to pursue her again, provided you make a sincere, thoughtful effort to apologize for your tactless approach before.

My advice? Explain the real reasons you froze up, how torn you felt over everything, and make it clear you still have feelings. But lead with a heartfelt apology for how horribly you botched it at first. If she’s willing to give you one more chance after that, DO NOT blow it.

Reply to u/juryofone · 13h

I agree with this take. He’s not an AH for the situation, but majorly the AH for the WAY he handled rejecting her. That had to sting badly after putting herself out there. The mature thing is to own up to that and properly communicate where his head was at.

Reply to u/juryofone · 12h

Yeah, going straight for “I can’t do that, I don’t think of you that way” after she bared her soul was so harsh and unnecessary. He could have let her down wayyyy more gently if he was that conflicted about it all. She must’ve felt like a fool!

u/neutralpartier · 11h

NAH — I get that you panicked in the heat of the moment and why this whole situation is heavy with ethical quandaries. The reality is, you two started off pretending but real feelings developed, and that’s okay! It happens. The moral issue only remains if you knowingly took advantage of or manipulated her feelings while she was on your payroll. Since you seem just as confused as she was, I don’t think any lines were really crossed.

The way forward is to rip off the bandaid once and for all. If you have mutual feelings now, figure out if you want to date as equals. If not, it’s time to part ways amicably while you both still can. But don’t keep paying her while catching feels — THAT would make you an AH.

u/glasshalfempty · 10h

ESH ... look, you suck for how you handled rejecting her confession. That was really hurtful and avoidant no matter your internal struggles. She sucks for going into this thinking it was all pretend, catching real feelings, and expecting you to want to be serious too. You PAID her to be your fake GF and made that clear.

My suggestion is to have an honest discussion about whether you can BOTH separate the transactions from reality. If you’re both all-in on trying for real, great! But one of you is going to get burned if expectations don’t align. And please, for the love of god, stop paying her!

Reply to u/glasshalfempty · 9h

This is exactly what I was thinking too! Way too messy ethically to keep paying her as the lines blur between fantasy job and real romance. Either take the plunge and date properly or go separate ways for good.

Reply to u/glasshalfempty · 8h

Agree but like ... is this even real? How does someone end up hiring a fake girlfriend to make their former best friend jealous? That alone sounds like a bad romcom plot.

u/criticaloverthinker · 7h

I’m calling cap on this whole wild story. Childhood besties turned feuding enemies living in the same building? A fake girlfriend who moves in as part of an elaborate revenge plan? It’s all too unbelievable.

u/struggling-with-reddit · 6h

I’ll play along and rate, but no way is this post legit lol. Having a fake girlfriend you eventually catch feelings for while pranking your neighbor? What’s next, one of you is actually royalty or a secret millionaire? Too much happening here.

Reply to u/struggling-with-reddit · 5h

Hahaha I know right, the excessive details and backstory gave it away as creative writing practice or something. No judgment from me, it was an entertaining read at least!

u/struggling-with-reddit · 4h

Next thing you know, OP will be claiming he’s Michael Schumacher or something 😂

r/AmITheAsshole

u/veganGOAT · 8h

UPDATE — I’m the idiot who rejected then realized I loved my fake girlfriend … and she took me back!

When I made my initial post a bit over a month ago about this whole fake girlfriend situation, most of you understandably called it outrageously far-fetched.

Which, fair. How does someone actually end up hiring a woman to fake date them just to make their neighbor jealous? It does sound ripped straight from a Nicholas Sparks fever dream.

Well put on your straight jackets, because this ridiculous saga is 100% real. And I’ve got an update that’s even crazier than the original tale ...

After reading the feedback on my initial post (and getting a whole lot of shit from some friends too), it became crystal clear that I had to make things right. I put her through the emotional wringer by callously rejecting her in the moment, when her feelings were just as tangled up as mine were. I owed her a sincere apology and a proper explanation of why I froze — with no more deflections or excuses.

So I wrote her a long letter. I laid it all out there. How torn I felt about the ethical and emotional complexities of our arrangement. How her vulnerability awoke my own fears about commitment, my transient lifestyle, and whether I could realistically be the partner she deserved. Mostly, I repeatedly owned up to being a thoughtless prick who shattered her trust out of pure pathetic self-preservation.

But above all, I made one thing clear — despite my bumbling, I had fallen for her too. Completely and utterly. She had cracked through my defenses and healing her hurt became the only thing that mattered.

I ended the letter by owning up to the fact that she now held all the power. While she had moved into this arrangement under certain pretenses, I had violated that implied contract. The ball was entirely in her court now. I would abide by whatever decision she landed on — friendship, an amicable parting of ways, or taking the terrifying gamble of trying to make this the real deal.

When she emerged from her room the next morning, I could barely look at her. I was a sweaty, nauseated wreck, steeling myself for the worst. She sat down next to me in silence and unleashed the longest, most blistering dressing down of my life. How I had made her feel so small, so foolish, so painfully vulnerable. Words like “coward” and “asshole” were thrown around. But you know what phrase stung most?

“I wish you had told me all of this up front instead of dealing with it like a child. I could’ve understood where you were coming from.”

It was a dagger — she was absolutely right. My dumb automatic rejection utterly betrayed the openness and intimacy we had built. Still, she didn’t dismiss me entirely. She would need some time to think, but asked that I stand by for an answer.

The limbo period was … not fun.

After four excruciating days, she came to me again. This time, she was almost shy, like her old self. She told me she had thought it over extensively, and ultimately my explanation and full-hearted apology won her over. I may be an idiot, an asshole, and a bit of a mess (her words), but I was an honest idiot with a good heart under all the bravado. And that’s what had drawn her to me in the first place.

So with the understanding that we would both need to work on our communication skills and respective hang-ups, she was in. We would press the reset button altogether, end our old arrangement, and try to make this relationship happen for real — messy origins be damned.

That was exactly a month ago today, and things have never been better. Sure, we still lean into some harmless (and vaguely unhinged) pettiness with my former friend from time to time. Some habits are too fun to quit cold turkey. But ultimately, I’ve never been so grateful for the insane set of circumstances that brought this amazing woman into my life. We may have started as an acting exercise, but we took a leap together into something beautifully real.

And yeah, I still have to hear shit from literally everyone about how our romance origin story is the most unbelievable meet-cute of all time. But I’ve learned to lean into the absurdity. After all, what’s life without a little chaos and a perfect partner to share in the pandemonium?

Thanks to everyone who offered candid advice on my original post. You may have received an update sooner if not for all the people accusing me of faking it! All I can say is … this is my blissfully ridiculous reality now.

u/juryofone · 7h

Well hot damn, I have to hand it to you — this saga is even wilder than the original post let on! I went from being totally skeptical of the whole outrageous situation to being fully invested in this insane romance. Love that she put you through the wringer a bit before taking you back. You absolutely deserved that and more after treating her like you did.

But huge props to you for manning up with that apology and giving her the power to make the next move. That vulnerability and respect for her feelings despite your own doubts is what true partnership is all about. I have a feeling you two chaotic bastards are going to be just fine as a real couple now that all the crazy pretenses have been stripped away. Wishing you both nothing but more pandemonium and pettiness together!

u/neutralpartier · 7h

I’m officially obsessed with this love story. You went from hiring a woman off to punk your neighbor, to breaking her heart over catching feelings, to doing the MOST to grovel your way back into her good graces, to ACTUALLY SUCCEEDING. It’s romcom gold! I need this to get optioned for a movie immediately.

u/glasshalffull · 6h

As wild as this story has been from start to finish, this update has me straight up emotional! The groveling, the way you explained your fears, her roasting you for days before mercifully taking you back … my heart. Love that she cut straight through the bullshit by calling you an idiot AND acknowledging your good heart. That’s the ideal balance.

I’m so invested in this nonsense and need regular updates on how things progress from here. You better not blow it after all this chaos or I’ll be leading the charge to vandalize your apartment!

u/romanticempath · 5h

What a journey! To go from manufacturing a fake relationship purely for petty vengeance, to developing REAL emotional stakes, to breaking each other's hearts quite viscerally, to finding your way back together through sheer vulnerability? Incredible stuff.

I laughed, cried (a little, don’t judge), and cringed throughout this entire saga. Thank you for bringing us all along for the insane roller coaster. I wish nothing but ridiculous happiness for you and her moving forward!

u/fairytaledreamer · 4h

I’m sorry but I still can’t get over the fact that this is somehow a real series of events? You’re a madman and this is truly unhinged (but also incredible). How did ALL of this unfold before your 40s?

Romcoms have been put to bed. Welcome to 2024, where people actually hire fake GFs to get revenge on their scorned former friends, develop legit attachment issues, torpedo everything in a panic, grovel for redemption fit for cinematic history, and somehow STILL end up together in some sort of demented happily ever after!

All I can say is cherish the chaos you've manifested. I can’t wait to see what bonkers plotlines await the two you. Start recording everything for the biopic!

Reply to u/fairytaledreamer · 3h

“Cherish the chaos” is absolutely the perfect sign off for this update. I’m deceased at this whole wild drama, but also soooo invested! Cannot wait for the inevitable Netflix mini series. Thanks for the laughs, drama, and emotional whiplash!

r/offmychest

u/NotBritneySpears · 21h

My ex-bestie’s wedding to his obnoxious girlfriend was a nightmare … and so was their wedding night (unfortunately)

You’ll have to bear with me on this one, because I’m still reeling a bit from one of the most cringey, uncomfortable, and downright baffling weekends of my entire life. I need to get this off my chest before I have a full mental breakdown.

A couple years ago, I made a post venting about my former best friend’s new girlfriend at the time. For those who missed the saga, she was an insufferably loud woman who seemed to take immense pleasure in loudly narrating her sex life with my former friend right outside my apartment door. It was psychological warfare, plain and simple.

Well, I’m sure you can all see where this is going based on the title. Against all odds and reason, this woman and my ex-friend somehow stuck it out … until he put a ring on it last year. Which leads me to the first in a cascading series of mind-numbing events — receiving a wedding invitation from the happy couple!

Now, let’s be clear — I have not spoken to my former best friend in almost a decade at this point. Not since our cataclysmic falling out (a story for another day). We were thick as thieves until our bond was shattered beyond repair. For him to invite me to his wedding with the woman who crudely mocked their intimacy for my benefit was … certainly a choice.

On one hand, why on EARTH would you invite the person whose heart you deliberately stomped on so many years ago? It felt like a cruel joke, rubbing salt in an open wound that never fully healed. A reminder of their domestic bliss and my bitter ostracism.

Yet on the other hand, maybe there was a subconscious part of me that would have felt insulted if he didn’t invite me after so many shared years? As if he had utterly erased me from his life without a second thought? The thought gut punched me too in an admittedly unhealthy way.

Long story short, I RSVP’d yes … half out of morbid curiosity and half out of a deeply unwell desire to not get excluded from such a significant life event. In hindsight, a foolish decision that kicked off a horrifically uncomfortable series of events.

The wedding itself was … a lot. An over-the-top spectacle at an insanely expensive venue. My miserable self stuck out like a sore thumb surrounded by all the adoring couple’s friends and family. I sat through mushy vows reaffirming their “unlikely origin” in the “most unexpected yet fortuitous way” … while trying not to puke.

So yeah, sheer cringe start to finish. Little did I know the worst discomfort was yet to come!

In perhaps the most on-brand grand gesture of the entire weekend, the groom rented out an entire boutique hotel for all out-of-town guests to stay at after the reception. That way we could all keep the party going nearby before he whisked his new bride off to parts unknown on their honeymoon the next day.

Ever the gracious host with a penchant for the spectacle, he let wedding guests draw for their room assignments out of an actual top hat. I somehow managed to get seated right next to his parents who, while cordial enough, knew me as the ex-best friend responsible for so much fractured history.

But wait, there’s more! Wouldn’t you know, the universe is supremely messed up because I ended up with the room directly underneath the newlywed suite. Yes … I spent their wedding night listening to a live-streamed porn broadcast courtesy of the paper-thin walls and floors.

Dolphin sounds didn’t even BEGIN to cover the unholy noises raining down from above around 2am. I’m talking full-on screams of unbridled passion echoing off the walls at maximum volume. Mind you, this woman had become infamous for over-enunciating their coitus for my benefit previously. Now it was a frighteningly real-life rendition that no noise-cancelling headphones could drown out.

I finally had to flee my room to the lobby. I ended up crashing on one of the lobby couches until an employee politely asked me to leave around 6am. Disheveled, disoriented, and officially diagnosed with PTSD from the sounds I cannot unhear.

So yeah … not exactly a therapeutic reunion that could have allowed my ex-friend and I to bury the hatchet. If anything, this wedding was one massive “screw you” that opened up all the same unresolved wounds. I need about 20 years of intensive therapy to move on.

I also need to find a new place to live because I can’t bear returning to that cursed apartment building.

u/chronicgossiper · 18h

Dude, I think you need to get some serious perspective here. Your ex-friend getting married and going on a honeymoon has absolutely zero to do with you. That level of self-centeredness is off the charts.

Why in the world would this guy plan an entire wedding — one of the biggest days of his life — around secretly tormenting you again over ancient history? That makes no sense. He invited you as a polite gesture after years apart, probably hoping to start burying the hatchet. The room assignments were random by your own admission.

As for the … “noises” … look, they were on their wedding night. Maybe overenthusiastic, but 100% to be expected between newlyweds. It’s not some psychological ploy, just poor planning on their part for thin walls. You’re projecting like crazy if you think that was directed at you specifically.

At a certain point, you have to realize the universe doesn’t actually revolve around your grudges or history with this person. They’ve clearly moved on to live their best life. It’s on you to stop obsessing over them and do the same.

Reply to u/chronicgossiper · 16h

I agree, this is just pure paranoia from OP. No newly wedded couple is sitting around thinking “how can we sneakily stick it to your ex-best friend during our wedding festivities?” That’s deranged thinking.

They invited you to be polite, you drew an unlucky room assignment near their suite, and then biology happened on their wedding night. Hilarious and awkward coincidence? Yes. Intricately designed fuck you from the bride and groom? Come on now, that’s giving them way too much credit.

u/NotBritneySpears · 13h

Maybe you all have a point, and I am still holding onto way too much resentment and baggage from our falling out. My intention wasn’t to imply they orchestrated an elaborate sting operation around their wedding. More just a general sense that the universe has a funny way of reminding me about them at highly inconvenient times over the years.

Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 12h

Even that line of thinking is incredibly self-centered though. Why would random coincidences or them just … living their lives be the “universe’s way of reminding you” about your failed friendship? That makes it sound like they should perpetually be walking on eggshells and avoiding certain life events just because you can’t get over the past.

Look, it sucks that things fell apart so badly between you two. But they have clearly moved on, as you should too. This obsessive framing of their marriage as some universal affront to you is … not healthy, my dude.

u/nosyandproud · 10h

The wedding itself sounds like it was in poor taste for sure, so I can certainly understand feeling aggravated and triggered being there as the scorned former friend.

That said … you’re borrowing A LOT of trouble by assuming any of their private wedding night activities were purposely being broadcast to you specifically. Projection level 1000 there.

At the end of the day, these people have built a whole entire life and future together now that quite literally has nothing to do with you anymore. You looking for “signs” that they’re still fixated on you is just self-involvement. For your own mental health, you have to let go of whatever happened and see them as background characters in the story of your life now.

u/realitychecker · 7h

OP, you need to take a step back and realize that the sheer logistics involved in purposely torturing you at their wedding are just not plausible. Do you really think they were like:

“Alright honey, for our wedding night I was thinking we should make sure your former friend gets the room directly below ours! That way when we really get after it, he’ll be able to hear every excruciating moan and body smacking sound in haunting detail! That’ll show him for being your friend a decade ago! Mwahaha!”

Come on, mate. That’s delusional cartoon villain level scheming you’re attributing to them. Occam's Razor — they just wanted to consummate their marriage in privacy and didn’t account for the thin hotel walls. The world doesn’t actually revolve around your history with this!

Reply to u/realitychecker · 5h

Lmaooo the idea of them sitting around strategizing the most psychological warfare possible on their wedding night is killing me. “Yes honey, we simply MUST reenact scenes from our noisiest adult films for your ex-best friend’s terrible pleasure!”

u/buildingbridges

OP, it seems like you really miss having your friend in your life if I’m reading between the lines here. Getting invested to this level over random coincidences at his wedding doesn’t come from a place of hatred, but hurt and longing for that bond again.

My advice? Use this weekend as a wake-up call to stop obsessing, reflect on whatever caused your rift, and decide if you want to properly reconnect. If not, you need to rip that band-aid off for good and stop torturing yourself over what will never be again. Or the walls between you two will just get thinner and thinner ...

r/ask

u/amateurdetective · 15h

I think these juicy Reddit posts actually interconnect … but I need your help cracking the code

I think I’ve stumbled onto something wild here and I need the Reddit hive mind to help me piece this tangled web together. Are you ready for some batshit conspiracy-level connecting of barely-there dots? Too bad, I’m going in anyway.

So, over the past few years, I kept seeing these extremely juicy, dramatically-written posts pop up every few months that seemed … oddly interconnected despite being in different subreddits.

Hear me out:

First there was the unhinged post in r/offmychest from a guy ranting about his former best friend’s obnoxious new girlfriend. Dude was griping about how this woman would loudly recount the smutty details of her sex life with the ex-friend whenever she was in his general vicinity, seemingly just to mess with the OP. We’re talking legitimately disturbing stuff about feeling “psychologically tortured” by her oversharing.

Fast forward a few months and I stumble across a wild post in r/relationships from the perspective of this same “obnoxious” girlfriend! Except her story painted a whole different, unhinged picture — she was hired on FACEBOOK MARKETPLACE by the former friend to literally move in and fake date him as part of an ongoing revenge plot against the OP from the first post. She rapidly develops legitimate feelings for the guy and it becomes a messy will-they-won’t-they romcom situation.

But THEN there was a follow-up post from the fake boyfriend’s side in r/AmITheAsshole about him realizing he caught feelings too before nearly blowing it, followed by another saga-capping update about them deciding to pursue a real relationship against all odds and absurdity.

Are you seeing the parallels here? These three posters each gave one side of an absolute dumpster fire of a convoluted love triangle situation that seemingly intersected. And based on the intricate backstories, my crackpot theory is they all emanated from the same formerly tight friend group that experienced a bitter falling out.

The insane attention to detail, literary flair, and geometry of it all almost had me utterly convinced these were all fictionalized creative writing exercises posted separately across Reddit … but building on the same unhinged storylines each step of the way.

I’m utterly obsessed with mapping this all out into one cohesive narrative now. My working theory is something like this:

Some guy hired an actress to pose as his fake GF and torment his former friend as revenge for some past betrayal

The two fake partners rapidly caught real feelings amid the ruse, he panics and nearly torpedoes it

Meanwhile, the ex-best friend is losing his mind overhearing the fake girlfriend’s loud performances and comes to Reddit for advice, not realizing it’s all a ploy

After a saga of miscommunication, the fake boyfriend comes clean and the couple decide to actually date for real

Capping things off, the former friend is forced to attend their wedding where he’s subjected to one final night of unholy noises

Does it all track? Or have I completely unraveled the conspiracy and stumbled onto a drastically personal set of circumstances being workshopped on Reddit? If so, that’s some ludicrously elaborate storytelling!

I need to know if I’m onto something here or completely off my rocker. If the former, I’ll burn every last calorie mapping out a master record of events across all the posts. If the latter … someone needs to drop their juicy fanfic writing prompts because these were WILDLY entertaining reads.

Help me connect these dots or point me towards any other potentially linked tales! This has been a public service aneurysm brought to you by pure boredom.

u/scepeticbynature · 14h

Wow, you’ve gone full Sherlock Holmes with this. I’m dying at how insanely detailed your working theory is in tying together these random Reddit posts into one cohesive narrative. This is either a brilliant piece of performance art … or you need your meds adjusted, my friend.

Reply to u/scepticbynature · 12h

Hahaha exactly! The amount of time and brain power OP has devoted to mapping this out is beyond obsessive. I don’t know whether to applaud the commitment to the bit or get them professional help.

u/amateurdetective · 10h

I’m sorry, did you actually read through the posts in question? The intersecting pieces of random, elaborate backstory between all three distinct voices is way too specific and layered for it to be an accidental alignment. There are unambiguous throughlines about:

A pair of feuding former childhood best friends

One hiring a woman off Facebook to pose as his fake GF and torment the other as revenge

Said fake relationship descending into a very real emotional entanglement for both parties

The eventual fallout of the ex-friend having to bear witnessing the real couple’s wedding and chaos that followed

Like that’s such a bizarrely specific plot keeping consistent across three different users’ lenses! So you’re either pointing out the artistry of someone doing an incredibly elaborate creative writing exercise across multiple subs … or these people are just leading unbelievably unhinged lives. And part of me hopes it’s the latter? It’s too batshit crazy not to be true!

Reply to u/amateurdetective · 9h

Or, and hear me out … it’s all an internal dialogue you’re having with your numerous Reddit personalities to work out your own unresolved relationship issues. We’re all just incredibly intricate fragments of your aching psyche!

u/opinionatedtruther · 7h

Lmao you are both nuts, but I have to side with OP on this one. The chances of these being all interconnected fabricated stories is way too perfect to be an accident. All the tiny threads and recurring backstories/character details woven between wildly different subreddit posts? That’s not a coincidence.

I could buy it maybe being some extended Reddit fanfic experiment between a couple of redditors seeing who can craft more engaging characters and drama while world-building off each other’s plot threads. Like a weird form of collabing through the confined lens of Reddit posts. It would be pretty genius if so.

But for it to be entirely real with all the coinciding details scattered across entirely unrelated posts like that? I’m sorry, but there’s just no way. That’s beyond the scope of believability for me. OP may be bungling the conspiracy, but they’re onto something for sure!

u/amateurdetective · 6h

THANK YOU, someone gets it! And to answer your other theory … while I can’t 100% rule out some sort of viral Reddit fanfic experiment, I struggle to believe even the most creative writers would be capable of improvising THAT intricately interconnected of a storyline stream-of-consciousness style like that.

Like each voice and perspective they inhabit remains remarkably consistent across such wildly different contexts (relationship drama, life events, ethical debates, and updates). It would take incredible skill to stay in the headspaces of these distinct individuals and keep their personalities/plot orbits from tangling into an incomprehensible mess. While possible, it seems incredibly unlikely.

That’s what has me believing there’s a remarkable kernel of stranger-than-fiction truth at the heart of this whole saga being teased out piece-by-piece. Or again … I’ve finally been gaslit into being a tin foil hatter of beautiful Reddit fantasies. Either way I’m here for it!

Reply to u/amateurdetective · 3h

All I have to say is please touch some grass and post to r/creativewriting instead 🙄

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xx-reverie-xx · 1 month ago

Note

can you do vi headcannons in a similar way to the sevika one?

♥️Vi HCs♥️

broken up into categories for general, romantic, and nsfw headcanons respectively.

safe for bisexual women, trans, and enby lesbians :)!

lower case is on purpose. not beta read, sorry for any typos.

men dni minors dni men dni minors dni men dni minors dni

general

her carabiner is on the left. it has the basics and a couple of cute handmade charms courtesy of her sister.

if she wasn’t an enforcer, she would be a professional boxer/pit fighter AFTER fighting becomes less of a coping mechanism for her.

i am not the first person to think of this but … she plays the guitar. she would be self taught.

she can sing pretty well too. used to sing powder lullabies their mom would sing.

LOOOOVESSSS HORROR MOVIES!!! she could probably go on a long rant about the history of horror as a genre, especially slasher films.

dog person. asks to pet almost every dog she sees on a walk.

she apologizes first after almost any argument she’s in.

it takes her 10-15 minutes TOPS to get ready, usually less than that.

smells like old spice and just her natural scent. very plain, but very comforting.

gives the best, most comforting hugs

sends streaks on snap.

romantic

and the world's best kisser award goes to…

seriously, she’s like a kissing god. gives the kind of kisses that have you weak in the knees. you get butterflies at the thought of kissing her.

every day before she leaves for work she kisses you SILLY!! like, you will be thinking about that kiss ALL day.

her giving and receiving love language is physical touch. no questions asked. she is constantly seeking your warmth.

she’s almost always touching you; an arm around your waist or shoulder, pinkies intertwined, hands brushing, holding hands.

if you aren’t keen on physical touch, don’t worry! she would be willing to set boundaries with you.

she isn’t very good at drawing but she loves to draw you in the margins of notebooks. tries her best to remember what your smile looks like and how your eyes are shaped, even for low effort doodles.

she is such a sweetheart. goes out of her way to get you flowers or chocolates, even when it isn’t valentine’s day.

will call you sooo many petnames. her favorites to use would be honey, baby, and sweetheart.

loves spooning. she looooves to be little spoon!! please let her be little spoon at least twice a week!!!

nsfw

She is almost exclusively a top, and she prefers it that way. However, for the right person, she might bottom once in a blue moon.

when it comes to dominance or submission, she mostly follows your lead. she's usually okay with either but will have moments where she prefers one over the other.

when she's feeling more dom, she lets you know immediately.

she has big hands and let’s just say she knows exactly how to use them.

sit on her face. just do it, please sit on her face or else she will die. sit on her face!!!!!

vocal!! in like, every way you can imagine! has the prettiest moans and tells you the sweetest things.

even when shes feeling controlling or dominant, she takes care to be gentle with you.

buuuut if you get her riled up enough she has no issue with a little man handling.

very experimental!!! down to try almost anything once.

hello dear anon! if you’re reading this, i hope you enjoyed. i had a lot more ideas for vi than i thought i would. i’d love to know if we have any common headcanons ^^!♥️🎠

my inbox is open for requests! i’ll write for any arcane character and have lots of other fandoms i write for too. i do more than just headcanons btw ♥️🎠

#arcane x reader #vi arcane #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #vi x trans fem reader #vi #arcane #vi x fem reader #vi x female reader #vi x nonbinary reader #request #arcane request

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 6 months ago

Note

oooh I have an idea for a modern!jace fic. I am a sucker for academic rivals to lovers so something like that. maybe reader finds out that jace is struggling (I thought a foreign language class since he struggled with valerian) or the teacher makes reader tutor Jace. I hope that made sense!

thank you xoxo

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You despised above everything anyone who was from a sports team. They were loud, entitled, arrogant, and made college all about them. You had a special hatred for that one guy from the football team who was banging at your dorm door at 11pm on a Thursday, thinking he was at his ex-girlfriend's dorm.

But when Mr. Perron had asked you to tutor the center player of the hockey team in exchange for extra credits, you couldn’t refuse.

You thought it would be easy and that he would take your tutoring seriously — his place in the hockey team was on the line —, but Jacaerys Velaryon was a pain in your ass. He had difficulty concentrating after twenty minutes and kept arguing over the spelling of words.

‘’You can’t pronounce it like that,’’ you said for the third time since you sat at a table in the tutoring center.

‘’Why not? It’s written that way,’’ Jace argued back, pointing to the word in the textbook.

‘’Because that’s not how you pronounce ‘croissant‘! I don’t make the rules.’’ You held back an exhausted sigh, your patience wearing thin. ‘’If you go to Paris and say it like that, they’re gonna laugh at you.’’

‘’They’re gonna be too distracted by my charming smile to hear my wrong pronunciation.’’ He flashed his signature smile at you, the one that made most people swoon, but you shook your head, refusing to engage in anything other than what you were there for.

‘’Unfortunately for you, your charm will not work on Mr. Perron,’’ you said, making his smile disappear. ‘’And it definitely won’t work on the exam.’’

Forty-five minutes later, Jace still couldn’t seem to get the translations right. You felt like he wasn’t even trying, but he actually was. French was just not sticking.

‘’Look, I’m here to help you, but if you want to waste my time—’’

Panic set inside Jace. ‘’No. I really need your help,’’ he insisted, his eyes wide with desperation. ‘’I swear I’m trying. If I don’t pass, I’m gonna get kicked off the team. There’s five games left, and we are so close to the play-offs. Please, don’t let me fail.’’ He looked at you intently, almost like a puppy dog begging for a treat.

You stayed at the tutoring center for another hour. There was a slight improvement, but Jace would need a lot more hours of tutoring to pass his exam.

So, that’s what you did. Everyday at 7pm, he would meet you at the tutoring center and bring snacks from the campus café, claiming studying on an empty stomach was proven less effective by studies. You hated how he made crumbs on the table and how casually flirty he was, but his charming smile was growing on you and making you less indifferent by the day, much to your annoyance.

You quickly shook those growing feelings out of your heart, refusing to fall for a hockey player. He already had a ton of girls at his feet. The chances he would reciprocate those growing feelings were too slim to even consider.

‘’Thanks for helping me. It means a lot to me,’’ Jace said on your last tutoring session. ‘’I’ve improved a lot this week, and I would not have been able to get this far without you.’’

During your time together, you got to know him a little and no longer saw him as just an entitled college athlete. He was sweet and thoughtful, and a true mama’s boy. You tried so hard to cover your fondness when he answered his mother’s call during a session. He even had a cute picture of his family as his lockscreen.

You gathered your stuff, putting everything into your backpack. ‘’Can I ask you something? Why did you take French if you struggle with foreign language?’’

Jace groaned, embarrassment filling his body. ‘’Because it seemed easy…and girls like it when a guy speaks French,’’ he admitted, his cheeks pink as he covered his face with his hand.

‘’Watch them all fall for you when you pronounce ‘croissant’ correctly.’’

A small laugh left his lips, amused by your teasing.

The sound of his laugh made your heart flutter, but you played it off by facing the other way. He couldn’t know that his charm was getting to you.

‘’There’s one week left until your exam. You gotta keep studying if you want to pass,’’ you said to him. ‘’No relenting.’’

You slung your bag over your shoulder and walked to the door, preparing to exit, but Jace called your name.

‘’What do I get if I pass?’’

His voice made you slowly turn around to look at him. ‘’You get to stay on the hockey team?’’

Jace pulled back on his Wolves hoodie, making you daydream about wearing it and smelling his woody cologne and something that was just him. ‘’No. What else do I get? I need something to motivate me.’’

A smirk curled at the corner of your lips, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them. ‘’If you get above 80%, I’ll suck your cock.’’

To you, it was a joke — just a joke —, but Jace never studied this hard before. He spent all his free time with his nose in his french textbook, and even brought it to the gym so he could study while running on the treadmill. His teammate made fun of him, but he didn’t care. The reward would be worth it.

On the day of the exam, he asked Mr. Perron if he could grade his exam immediately, needing to know if he could play tomorrow night. Jace waited impatiently as the man checked everything, nerves bubbling in his stomach. When Mr. Perron handed him his exam, he walked out and started looking for you.

He found you sitting in the quad, reading by yourself. He ran over to you, and shoved his exam in front of your face. At the top right corner was a bright red 81%.

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard@domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios@lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry

All and more taglist: @kenqki@hawkegfs@gillybear17@black-rose-29@fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity @Anouk nani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21 @Spacexdrago

#house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #prince jacaerys #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #house of the dragon imagine #jacaerys velaryon imagine

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0310s · 7 months ago

Text

take a picture, it'll last longer! (leehan) ᯓ★

members: leehan x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

wc: 1.2k

summary: a photobooth, too many options to choose from, and a naughty lover (spoiler: it’s not you).

a/n: once again... thank you to @dollvrse for implanting this idea in my head... you literally have the best ideas. i went utterly insane imagining this scenario, so i had to churn out this fic for the sake of my mental health. enjoy!

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

“Leehan, Leehan, a photobooth!” you gasp and nudge your boyfriend of one month. The singular photobooth is tucked in a cozy corner of the street, right beside a homey cafe. A peek under the curtain shows it’s unoccupied—lucky! “Hurry up, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” You tug at Leehan with your intertwined hands without waiting for a response; your lovely partner seems happy to be dragged along, either way.

Sliding the curtain open, you quickly usher Leehan into the photobooth. As expected, the interior is compact, just enough for a pair to squeeze in and take photos. It’s honestly been quite some time since you’ve entered a phootbooth; you’ve never had a particular interest in these sorts of gimmicks. But now, you have something to commemorate and you want to be reminded of through photographic means—so here you are.

Still, this is no time to peruse the photobooth interior. The last time you visited one, all you needed to do was to take your pictures and the machine would churn out everything else for you. Now, there are a plethora of options to choose from—too many, in fact, that you end up feeling momentarily paralyzed. “Okay, what are we feeling today? Two poses? Four poses? Eight poses? And there are… uhh… ten layouts we can choose from? There are way too many options... I’m getting confused!”

“We can probably just go with the regular four-photo strip.” Leehan’s voice is low and melodious as he answers you. “And pick the ocean design. The fish look cute there.” You nod and go with it, not wanting to waste any more time on deciding. As you pull out your wallet to feed the machine a couple of bills, Leehan beats you to it and fishes the photobooth some of his own money. Before you can even protest, Leehan sends you a little smile. “My treat.” How could you ever be mad at him with that smile of his?

You’re cut off from your daydreaming about how wonderful everything about Leehan is when the screen sounds, indicating you should get into position. “Okay, first pose!” You come up with many poses, but none of them seem right. Leehan proves to be unhelpful because all he’s doing is gazing at you with a fond smile on his face. “Leehan, maybe stop looking at me and help me out?”

“I can’t help it. You’re just too beautiful,” Leehan tells you, “my eyes go wherever you are.” At this, your face burns with embarrassment. You’re about to tell Leehan to stop joking around when the photobooth shutter goes off with a loud sound.

At this, both of you turn to the screen, watching as the timer ticks down for the second photo. “Leehan, you just ruined our first photo!” you complain, but your boyfriend remains smiling. “Listen, buddy, this is a collaborative effort. Let’s think of a pose for the second photo. Come on, please?”

Leehan laughs to himself at how cute you are for taking this so seriously. “Okay, fine, fine,” he finally gives in to your pleading. “Come here.” Bringing you closer, he wraps an arm around you. His hand on your waist is a warm brand against your skin, and you ignore the shiver that goes through you. But when he tightens his hold, you instinctively giggle.

“Leehan, not this pose, I’m ticklish there.” You try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he just pulls you in closer until his body is pressed right against yours. He’s facing straight at the camera, but you can see the corner of his lips curling up. You suddenly have an foreboding feeling that he’s up to no good—then he gives your waist another squeeze, right where you’re most ticklish.

“Ahh!” You squeal, thrashing in his grip. Leehan, devil that he is, laughs at your plight and starts to purposely tickle your sides to get a reaction out of you. He’s too strong—you’re subjected to practically the worst (and most evil!!!) tickle attack you’ve ever experienced in your life. As you wriggle around in an attempt to escape, the shutter goes off once again: two shots gone down the drain, two more to go. “Kim Leehan, if you don’t stop teasing me-” you begin to warn him, but you lose all train of thought when you notice the position you’ve ended up in.

Leehan’s got both arms wrapped around your waist. You can literally count the number of lashes your boyfriend’s got—it’s unfair how he’s got these pretty, long doll lashes that ghost his cheekbones every time he has his eyes shut. You’re so close that you can feel his breath on your lips as he looks down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. Your eyes trail down his gorgeous doe eyes, to the slope of his straight nose, to his plush, kissable lips—wait, what?

Your thoughts are all but interrupted as Leehan leans in and steals your breath with a tender kiss. One hand shifts from your waist to your cheek, gently cradling your face in his palm. His other hand remains on your waist, drawing you nearer, and you practically melt into his strong arms. Trailing your hands over his back, you sigh into the kiss as your pliant lips move against his. You’re so absorbed in the kiss that you don’t hear the camera go off another time. You feel so safe in his arms, and kissing him makes you feel lightheaded with happiness—happiness that you’re this close to him, someone you care dearly for, and that you’re able to share this intimate moment with him.

When you finally pull apart, you’re panting for air. Leehan is staring at you with a similarly dazed expression, eyes glazed over. You’re looking into each other’s eyes for a quiet moment, sharing equally shy glances. Leehan’s got that expression where he’s suppressing a wide grin, his dimples peeking out. That’s when the final shutter goes off, and you’re snapped out of your stupor—then you suddenly realize what you actually came here for. “Leehan, the pictures!”

“Oh. Right.” Leehan looks positively unapologetic. “I forgot." You clearly both did. A whirring sound comes from the machine, and you both turn around to see the finished prints drop out. When you step over and hold up the photo strips, you gasp with shame.

“Oh my god!” The first photo is you fuming at Leehan while he looks at you longingly. The second photo is a blur of arms, but you can distinguish both your bright smiles as you flail around—yours out of ticklishness, and Leehan’s out of pleasure at your misfortune.

The third photo is one that makes your cheeks flush a fiery red. Leehan and you are wrapped up in a kiss—nothing R-Rated, but still utterly humiliating to have been captured in a phootbooth no less. You look down to the fourth and last one, and here, you’re both gazing at each other with bashful smiles on your faces. The most embarrassing thing about it all is how because of the design Leehan's chosen, it looks like you're making out in a sea of poor marine creatures who most likely did not consent to watching a private show.

As cute as this is, you probably can’t display this in your room. “Jesus, these are ruined. We should take them again,” you exhale, already regretting the amount of money you’re spending on some silly, unimportant photos. But Leehan stops you, taking the photo strips from you and surveying them carefully.

“What do you mean? I think they came out great.” Leehan pauses, considering his next words, carefully monitoring your reaction. Then what he says next stuns you: “... We look like we’re in love.”

Your heart clenches at this. It’s true—you and Leehan look like you’re in your own little world. “We do,” you concede. “Okay. Let’s keep this.”

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sugarnspice630 · 14 days ago

Text

Baby It's Cold Outside

"Perhaps you can stay a little longer? Share one more drink with me?"

•pairing: yunho x fem!reader

•word count: 1k

•tags: MDNI, suggestive, jealous and possessive Yunho, reader is kinda stupid (sorry), alcohol consumption, drink spiking (DO NOT DO THIS????), ...did I miss anything? probably

Summary: Quite literally based off the controversy with the song "Baby It's Cold Outside", after spending a little too long with your date, Yunho, you try your best to go home. He seemingly does not want you to leave however.

A/N: I have a confession...one of my taboo kinks is to be drugged and taken advantage of, but you didn't hear that from me! For real though, please be careful with your drinks being spiked. Protect yourself and others while under the influence. Remember this is only fiction and to not be taken seriously or to give anyone any ideas. Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

Your phone dinged with a notification. A message from your roommate, asking where you were. You previously told them you were going to meet up with this guy you matched with on Tinder. You had been chatting back and forth for a while, so you had some trust with him. It wasn’t a one-night stand or anything, just the first time meeting up. You glanced at the time on your phone after reading your roomie’s message and realized you had stayed way longer than you expected.

“Yunho, I’ve really enjoyed our time, but I do have to get going.”

“Mmm, can’t you just stay a little longer? The temperature is not the warmest right now.”

“Yeah, well, ‘tis the season for that. Plus, my roommate just messaged asking where I was.”

“You have someone else expecting you?” His voice was laced with a hint of jealousy. You scoffed at his comment softly.

“Relax, it’s just a roommate Yunho, plus, ‘they'” - you say with air quotes - "are a lady, so you can rest easy.” You use your hands and push yourself up off the couch you both are sitting on.

“I see. Well, I don’t want you to freeze out there.” Yunho stands up after you do and starts to get closer to you. His tall stature throws you off for the 100th time. You gaze up at him with your mouth parted slightly.

“I’m sure I’ll be okay. I dressed prepared for the weather.”

“I know, but doesn’t this warm fire feel so much nicer?” His hands trail up from your hips to your waist and rest there. The action sends a small chill up your spine.

“I-it does.” The remaining confidence you had slowly leaving you, softly submitting to staying with Yunho for the night. You stare at each other for a moment before you blink and shake your head and back away from him. “No, I need to leave.” You peek your head past his shoulder to look out the window near the front door. The snow is coming down quickly and heavily. Yunho follows your gaze and returns his attention back to you, a soft smirk on his face.

“I wouldn’t go out there if I were you. Perhaps you can stay a little longer? Share one more drink with me until the snow trucks go by?” His hands leave your hips and tenderly hold your hands. His sentences came across as questions, but you knew you really wouldn’t have much of a choice.

“Fine. I suppose one more won’t hurt.” You glance off to the side, disappointed with yourself that you could not stand your ground, but knowing he also had a point. If you left now, who knows what could happen to you out there with the snow coming down the way it is?

“Good~. I’ll go get the drinks. Just sit back down for me.” His eyes are full of tenderness and care. His hand invites you to sit back on the couch. There was no denying his charm and how your heart fluttered with him wanting you to stay longer. You sat back down, looking up at him, and he gave you an approving nod before heading to the kitchen to prepare the drinks. You pulled your phone back out and shot a message to your roomie.

“You’re smiling a lot over there.” Yunho’s voice ringing through your ears, causing you to jump suddenly. He hands over the small glass he just poured for you.

“Oh, heh, yeah. My roommate is just being...perverted." You chuckle softly as you grab the drink from his hand, a slight blush coming across your face. He responds with a soft “hmm” and sits back down next to you.

The situation feels familiar. Being in this same position not that long ago. Drinks in your hands, chatting about frivolous things, sitting in the exact same spots. Like nothing has changed, besides the fact you are staying a few minutes longer than you intended. The night drags on; the snow keeps coming down. The sudden broadcast on the news advising people to stay inside and not go out due to dangerous conditions. Once that message finishes, the smirk on Yunho’s face grows even larger. You furrow your eyebrows towards him, thinking the alcohol was starting to take effect and making you see things.

“Yunho, it's been a pleasure, but I seriously need to go.” You set the cup down on the table in front of you and stand up. Feeling like all of the blood suddenly left your head, you start to fall forward. Yunho, quick on the draw, stands up and catches you.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy darling. Didn’t you hear the weather experts? It’s dangerous to go out there.”

“I promised my roommate I’d be back.” Your words start to come out slurred, unintentionally.

“Y/N I can’t allow you to go out there. Especially in this condition.” A concerned tone in his voice as he looks you over, holding you up and in place any time you try to move.

“Yunho…” Your sentence falls off as you look at him. Everything in the room except for him is spinning, and suddenly your vision becomes blurred. Your body starts to feel light and tingly. Am I about to pass out? You think to yourself. From what little is left you can see, Yunho’s eyes shift from concerned to dark and sinister.

“I can’t allow you to leave Y/N.”

“Yunho…what did you…?” Next thing you know, he has you spun around, and you feel him grab your wrists and tug them together. Yunho leans in towards your neck and whispers in your ear.

“Perhaps I put a little something in your drink to help you stay longer.”

“Wha…” None of this making any sense due to your body practically shutting down at this point.

“Shh, shh, shh.�� Yunho places his spare hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, and not too long after that, he feels your body go limp against him. The drink has taken full effect now. Yunho quietly sings to himself, in his deeper register...

“Baby, it’s cold outside~.”

Tags: @pre1ttyies@isiloiale@moongoddess1982@xuchiya@myloveforyunho @ywtfvs @meowmeeps @tinyelfperson @httpseungmxn @acupoftaewithsomesuga @tiredlittlevirgo @no1likevie @arki-sha @yeosangsbbg @10nantscompanion @skzooluvr

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freedomfireflies · 1 year ago

Text

Always*

Summary: The fifth and final part to 404*

The one with car crashes and closet sex.

Word Count: 4.3k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

Arrogant Twat: Playing hooky, that’s not like you

Arrogant Twat: You’re not that cool

Arrogant Twat: I can see you reading my messages you know

Arrogant Twat: So if you’re ignoring me, it’s not working

Arrogant Twat: …okay seriously this is really fucking childish, are you really not gonna come to work just because I won’t fuck you?

Arrogant Twat: It’s been three days, Princess, you can’t hide from me forever

You: You are so fucking annoying, I am not hiding from you, I’m SICK

You: This may come as a surprise, but my world does not revolve around you or your cock

You: So if you don’t mind, I need to go throw up

Tossing your phone down onto the bed, you rush into the bathroom to grasp onto the sink and brace yourself over the porcelain. Silently willing your body to comply, to keep the fluids down. You don’t want to be sick, but thinking about Harry always tends to make you.

You smirk to yourself at the joke before running your hands under the cold stream of water to gently rinse off your face. Needing to feel something cool against your feverish skin before you slink back to bed.

Truth be told, you don’t mind the break from work. And from Harry, specifically. Sure, you understand why he ended things. And you aren’t exactly upset about it, seeing as he wasn’t really that great of company to keep.

But he’s angry. You know he’s angry, and that’s why he claimed he wanted to stop. And you feel guilty over having pushed him there, you do. After all, you knew better. You two don’t talk about anything personal. You don’t ask questions, you don’t pry. You don’t show any sort of emotion or understanding.

You broke the one rule. And truthfully, you aren’t quite sure how to face him now.

Overcome with fatigue, you slump back down onto your bed, and disappear beneath the covers. Pulling them up to your chin as a shiver rolls down your sweaty skin, all the way to your fuzzy sock-covered toes.

You try to watch some television to get your mind off the pain and congestion but find yourself growing sleepier with each quippy remark from Chandler Bing.

And before you know it, you’re out like a light.

The sharp chime of your cellphone is what wakes you. Pulling you from a rather odd dream as you groggily roll over and attempt to find the noise.

It’s a text message, followed shortly after by another. And once you manage to sit up and rub the sandman from your eyes, you see who it’s from.

Arrogant Twat: Open your door

Arrogant Twat: And hurry up, it’s fucking freezing out here

Curious, and a tad startled, you glance toward your bedroom door, almost as if expecting to see him.

He can’t possibly be outside of your apartment building right now. He has no idea where you live, nor would he ever have any desire to be here. This has to be some sort of prank. He’ll get you to walk outside into the freezing night air only to realize he’s nowhere to be found.

That is the Harry you know.

Arrogant Twat: For the love of God, Tinkerbell, open the fucking door before I freeze my ass off

With a huff (and a cough), you fling your covers back and pad over to your window, glancing down into the street.

And there he is, a dark shadowy figure lurking on the steps to your building, angrily glaring at his cellphone.

You feel your heart start to pound, overcome with confusion and intrigue. You don’t understand why he might be here or what he could possibly want so late at night. You’re tempted to send him away, or pretend he has the wrong address.

But you can’t deny that you’re curious as to what he might want or what he’ll say. Especially after the way things ended. Perhaps he’s merely here to catch you up on what you’ve missed with the project. Or maybe he just wants to complain in person.

Either way, you slip on some pajama shorts and a large, oversized sweatshirt for comfort, and head for the door.

With a deep breath, you buzz him in, and wait anxiously as the sound of steps echoes through the stairwell and between the halls.

No matter what happens, you’ll stand your ground. You don’t have the energy to fight him today. If he’s coming into your home, he’ll play by your rules.

There’s a knock on the door. Sharp and precise as you exhale shakily and step closer. Fingers curling around the doorknob before you swing it back and come face to face with the troublemaker himself.

He stands in the doorframe, a dark hoodie pulled over his head, and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

In his right hand, he holds a brown bag, allowing it to dangle casually at his side while his eyes rake up and down your figure.

“Shit, you look terrible,” he snorts, pressing his shoulder against the entryway. “Worse than usual, I mean.”

Your expression falls, a glare beginning to form. “Well, this was fun. Buh-bye now,” you huff, already beginning to shut the door in his face.

However, he’s quick to outstretch his hand and smack his palm against the wood, keeping it open. “Okay, all right. Geez, it was just a joke. D’ya lose your sense of humor or something?”

“No, that just wasn’t funny,” you retort, but allow the door to stay ajar. “What do you want?”

He lifts the bag into the air and shakes it once. “Brought you soup.”

You blink. “You…what? Why?”

He shrugs once. “Cause you’re sick,” he says, now brushing past you to make his way into your living room. “And I’m nice.”

“Uh…no,” you nearly scoff, turning around to watch him flop down onto your sofa. “You are anything but nice to me, and you know it.”

“Well, I’m being nice today.”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why? Is it poisoned or something?”

You catch his wry smile as he begins to unpack the items and set them onto your coffee table. “Guess there’s only one way to find out, yeah?”

Hesitantly, you shut the door, and follow after him. Cautious of his intentions but drawn to the smell of the delicious food.

He hands you a bowl and some cutlery – which you take rather tentatively – before he straightens up and stares at you. “Are you gonna sit down?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, eyeing the only spot available beside him on the couch. “Are you still gonna be an asshole?”

“Probably.”

You huff but catch yourself smirking. “Fine, but scoot over.”

With an amused exhale of his own, he does as instructed, moving toward the edge of the sofa to make room before sitting down as well.

Your small apartment fills with a rather uncomfortable quiet as the two of you begin to dig into your food. The silence accompanied by faint slurps and sips that almost make you smile.

And it feels weird to be here with him like this. Relaxing on the couch, eating some soup like you don’t despise each other.

Perhaps you’d even enjoy his company under any other circumstance.

Clearing your throat, you angle your body toward his, studying his profile as his eyebrow raises. “Why are you here? Really?”

He shifts in your direction as well, grinning deviously from behind his takeout container. “Told you, I’m being nice—”

“Wrong. You’re never nice. Besides, you just accused me of hiding from you, so I don’t exactly think we’re on the best of terms.”

This makes his amusement fade, a subtle frown beginning to form as he shrugs one shoulder up in a nonchalant manner. “I don’t know. I guess it’s an apology.”

“For what?”

“For saying that,” he admits, almost quietly. Avoiding your eye as he stares at his noodles. “And maybe I kind of thought you were lying and wanted to see for myself.”

“Would you like me to vomit for you? Will that prove I’m actually unwell?”

He smiles again. “Nah, I’m good—”

“Really, it’s no trouble. I’ll do it right now, all over your lap—”

“All right,” he groans, leaning back with a crinkled nose. “Ew. No. I believe you, Princess. Fuck’s sake.”

Satisfied, you nod once. “Great. Now, onto my next question. How the hell did you get my address?”

“How do you think?” His expression is mischievous. “Got it from your file.”

“What? Why do you have access to my file?”

“Cause Prescott’s security system is way too easy to hack,” he says simply. “And I knew you’d never tell me.”

“Right. Because we don’t do that.”

“We don’t,” he agrees. “But we’re not fucking anymore, so it’s fine.”

“Oh, is it?”

“Yeah.”

“And how exactly does that work?”

“Because,” he begins, setting his things down on the coffee table, “if we’re not fucking, that means there’s no chance of you getting all clingy and attached.”

Your eyes narrow. “Uh-huh.”

“Which means we can hang out without you falling for me,” he finishes, rather smugly. “So it’s fine.”

“Just because we aren’t fucking doesn’t mean we’re friends,” you argue. “I still hate you.”

“I know. I hate you, too.”

Yet for some reason, you both smile.

“Now what’s the real reason?” you urge, nodding your chin at him. “Honestly. Why are you really here?”

He takes a beat to mull this over, standing from the sofa to collect his trash and take it to your kitchen. “Told you,” he finally says before tossing away his things. “You’re sick, and I felt bad.”

“Is that all?”

Another long pause settles between you as he readjusts the hood over his curls and saunters over to your window seat. “I didn’t want you to be hiding from me,” he admits as he slumps down, eyes flicking out into the dark night. “So I wanted to make sure we were good.”

You study him silently, taking in the way his hands disappear into the large pocket on his abdomen. “Yeah, we’re good,” you quietly reply.

He nods once but keeps his attention on the city. “Good. Cause you don’t have to hide, you know. We’re fine.”

“Yeah, I know. I just said that.”

His body lifts and falls with a small chuckle before he props his legs up onto the cushions and tosses his arms over his knees. “Well, you seemed pissed.”

“Well, I wasn’t the one that threw a hissy fit and fled from the car,” you retort. “In fact, I’m the one that politely agreed and let you go.”

“Right, but you were pissy about it. I could tell.”

“You are so full of shit.”

He laughs again. “I just don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Oh, I am. But not for that.”

He looks over. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re annoying, and you’re rude, and you’re so fucking pretentious,” you list, fighting a grin. “But you have a right to keep things to yourself, and I shouldn’t have asked. So…I’m sorry.”

He nods once, as if acknowledging the apology before returning his gaze to the window. “S’fine.”

Another lull drifts into the conversation, minutes passing by before you notice his expression shift.

“It’s not you,” he murmurs, and your eyebrows lift.

“What?”

He shifts a bit before clearing his throat. “It’s not you, I just…I don’t talk about it. Or…her.”

Her.

The first piece to the rather large puzzle sitting before you, and you feel your breath catch as you await the rest.

You notice the way he hesitates. The reflection of the night sky in his glasses. The nervous tapping of his fingers.

“Cause if I don’t talk about it, then I don’t have to think about it,” he whispers. “And if I don’t think about, then I don’t feel like putting my fucking fist through a wall, you know?”

“I know,” you answer quietly. “You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

He snorts to himself, leaning forward. “She never should have been in that fucking car. I was supposed to drive her. She was supposed to be with me.”

And even without much context, you feel your stomach wrench, already anticipating what might have happened.

“But she was late,” he says. And it’s angry, the way he speaks. Resentful. “She was out with her friends, and she was late to meet me, and I had shit to do. So I told her. I told her I couldn’t take her to the fucking party she wanted to go to. Because I didn’t want to be out all fucking night. I wanted to get my shit done and go to bed.”

You feel your throat run dry, tears beginning to form as you watch him recall the memory.

“I told her to get an Uber,” he continues, aggravated at first before it settles into something soft and somber. “I made her get into that car, and I watched her go. And I didn’t fucking care. Because I wanted to stay home, so I made her go by herself, and it fucking…and she didn’t…”

Your feet desperately want to carry you to him. To provide him some sort of comfort as he keeps his glare on the city horizon.

But you stay seated on the sofa, waiting for whatever he might offer next as he takes a deep breath.

“And she was just gone,” he murmurs, the air in the room shifting instantly. “She was fucking gone not even an hour later.”

The first drop slips down your cheek before you can wipe it away.

He exhales an amused laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “And I always think how funny it is that the last thing she ever said to me was, ‘Sleep well, H.’ And I haven’t slept well since.”

Now, he looks to you. Studying you almost sadly as you sit in wait.

“And then there was you,” he says. “You, and your shitty ass jokes, and your cocky little grin. You were everywhere. Every day. Sitting across from me, asking if I wanted to split a fucking everything bagel.”

You’re almost tempted to smile, but the truth of what he’s saying cuts too deep.

“And I hated it,” he admits, eyes flicking between yours. “I fucking hated it because you made me forget. Whenever I would talk to you, I would forget. I would just stare at you as you rambled on and on about the algorithm and the fucking API, and I wouldn’t think about her, and I’d forget how fucking angry I was.”

He smiles almost wryly, making your insides twist.

“And I didn’t want to forget,” he tells you. “I wanted to be angry. I wanted to punish myself for what I’d done. Because I didn’t deserve to forget. I didn’t deserve to be happy. Especially with you.”

You sit up, wrestling with the temptation to argue, but he’s already looking back out the window.

“So, yeah, maybe hating you was easier. And maybe fucking you was selfish, but it felt like the only choice. Because sex is just sex. And if I kept you at a distance – at least in some ways – I wouldn’t have to lose you, too.”

You stand and make your way for the window seat, settling in front of him as he turns to watch you. He looks like he wants to roll his eyes, perhaps in an attempt to avoid your pity, but you lean forward, nonetheless.

“You know it’s not your fault, right?” you whisper, ignoring his amused expression. “You don’t deserve to be punished for something you couldn’t control.”

He smirks, but you can see the hint of sadness written between the lines of his face. “Thanks, Dr. Phil. I’ll keep that in mind.”

But you don’t let him tease his way out of this, instead settling your hands atop his knees to recapture his attention. “I’m serious, Harry. I know she wouldn’t blame you. How can you blame yourself?”

His smug grin falters for half a second. “Because there’s no one else to blame.”

A lump lodges in your throat as you scoot a bit closer. “Exactly. It was an accident. Unfair and uncontrollable. But it was never your fault. It was never your burden to carry.”

He leans his head back against the wall, but his attention never leaves you. Almost as though he’s afraid to look away.

“You can hate me,” you tell him. “I don’t mind that. Hating you is easier for me, too. But you can’t punish yourself for this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy. Not when you deserve it more than anybody I know.”

And maybe this is the first time you’ve ever really understood him. The first time you’ve felt truly connected to the man before you – even more so than when he was inside of you.

Because suddenly, things don’t feel so heavy. The world doesn’t seem so dark. And maybe, just maybe…he’s not so bad.

He drops his legs and sits up to reach for you. A large palm slipping around the back of your neck while you suck in a quiet breath and lean away.

“No,” you whisper, making his eyebrows raise. “I’m sick.”

He laughs, almost as though enchanted by your response. That charming dimple reemerging. “I don’t care.”

“Well you should,” you argue. “Seriously, it’s gross over here. There’s snot and I’ve been coughing all day—”

“Tink,” he murmurs, moving closer, attention dropping to your lips. “Stop talking.”

So…you do.

You let his mouth press to yours, settling into the feel of his touch. Something you weren’t sure you’d ever get to feel again. And despite everything else…you’re content.

He kisses your top lip. Your bottom lip. Steals a breath right from your lungs before nudging his nose with yours. “I still hate you.”

Your fingers tangle into the dark hoodie on his chest. “Yeah. I hate you, too.”

He smiles.

You aren’t sure what to expect come Monday morning. After all, you’re never sure what to expect with Harry.

You left things…friendly but undecided. As far as you know, nothing has changed. Harry is still the arrogant twat you’re forced to tolerate, and maybe that’s all he’ll ever be.

But maybe…you’re okay with that.

If you never fuck him again, perhaps that’s not the worst thing. Becoming his frenemy is decidedly less exhausting than being anything else. And you suppose you don’t want much more than that. At least not right now. You’re happy to hate him for as long as he’ll let you.

But you aren’t sure how he’ll feel about his admission in the light of day. Maybe he’ll regret sharing something so personal. Maybe he’ll resent you for knowing it. Maybe he’ll request the two of you never speak again.

Lucas does his best to engage in small talk with you as you anxiously await Harry’s arrival. Politely ignoring the way you continue to check your watch and glance toward his desk.

In fact, you eventually become so engrossed in the conversation with the friendly newcomer that you miss that aforementioned ball of thunder striding through the lab.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. He throws his things down and slouches into his chair to begin working. Not bothering with a greeting or even a look of acknowledgement.

Truth be told, you aren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

And then the lunch hour begins. You assume he’ll disappear to the cafeteria as usual to grab a sandwich before returning to hide himself away in the lab.

Yet today is different. Today he stands up, turns around, and steps up to where you’re sitting.

Before you can even turn around, he dips down, and whispers, “Supply closet. Five minutes.”

With that, he’s gone. Slipping between the computers and desks before disappearing into the hallway as a smile stretches across your face.

After anxiously counting the seconds, you begin to follow. Double checking to make sure no one pays you any mind.

Once you’re satisfied, you make your way to the closet, and knock twice.

The door swings open, and you barely get the chance to offer a greeting before he’s tugging you inside, flinging the door shut, and pushing you up against it.

His lips find yours and it’s anxious. His kisses are desperate and rushed but so fucking addictive.

His hands are on your waist while yours disappear into his hair. His glasses are nudged out of place but neither of you care to stop and fix them. Instead groaning eagerly as he sucks on your tongue.

His hips press to yours, the subtle but familiar bulge hard against your thigh as you drop your head back and whimper. Anxiously pleading with him through a pointed look.

The flick of the button on your jeans is fast and practiced. The material pooling around your ankles while he works to tug his own pants down.

Two fingers hook onto the crotch of your panties to pull them aside before he slides the long digits through. Feeling just how frantic you really are.

He kisses you again as he slides them inside, curling and pumping just so. Smirking when he hears your arousal echo between the walls.

Nipping at your bottom lip, he whispers, “This doesn’t change anything. I still hate you.”

Sighing contently at the way his thumb massages your clit, you say, “Good. I hate you, too.”

He snorts. “Sure, Princess. Is that why you’re so fucking wet?”

To accentuate his point, he thrusts to the knuckle, stroking a particular spot that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

“S’fucking pathetic,” he murmurs, glancing down, “how easy it is to play with you. Don’t have to do anything, do I? Just have to tease you a little and you’ll soak my fucking hand.”

Your fingers curl into his shirt, either as an act of defiance or out of need for stability. You aren’t sure.

“Cause you like it, don’t you?” he continues, moving his kisses to your neck. “Gets you off to be insulated. Degraded. Get all wet and squirmy at the thought of me putting you in your place, yeah?”

You don’t want to agree with him, but you both know he’s right. Even now, the cold cadence in which he speaks makes your legs shake.

“Yeah,” he answers for you in a soft but smug hum. “Know you do. Know you just wanna be put on your knees. Where you belong.”

With this thought, he pulls his fingers from your pussy, leaving you to wilt while he tugs his cock out.

There’s not much care as he swiftly and almost angrily tugs your leg up and throws it around his hip. He offers no words of reassurance or looks of encouragement while the tip drags through your folds before slowly disappearing into your cunt.

He ignores your strangled inhale, forehead finding yours as he grits, “Maybe I should do that next. Wrap your pretty ponytail around my fist while I fuck your throat.”

Your lashes flutter shut, nails scraping down his arms.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Tink?” He pauses for only a moment to let you adjust. “Like it when I make tears run down your face, yeah?”

However, you can’t offer him any reply. Instead focusing on the familiar ache that accompanies the stretch of his large size.

He pushes in a bit more, wary of your reaction, but overcome with pleasure at the way you take him. “You do,” he decides, that smile returning. “Can feel your little pussy clenching around me. Is that what you want, Princess? Want me to be mean to you?”

Truth be told, you suppose it is. Anything else wouldn’t feel right.

His hand raises to your throat, fingers curling around the delicate and soft skin of your neck before he squeezes once. Keeping your head pressed against the door.

“Take me,” he murmurs harshly before burying himself all the way. Ignoring your gasps and whines. “Fucking take me, Tink. Just like that. S’a good fucking girl. Always behave so well for me, hm? Just for me. Nobody else.”

He sets a slow but hard pace. Looking down at where his cock disappears into your pussy with a dazed look in his eye.

“Do you think about him, Princess?” he asks you next, giving your throat another squeeze. “D’ya think about your precious fucking Lucas when I fuck you? Or do you think about him when you’re all alone? Trying to get yourself off?”

Your mouth opens, ready to reply, but all that follows his remark is a desolate and strained whimper.

“Or do you think about me?” His lips ghost along the tender skin below your ear. Breathing softly before kissing the spot sweetly. A stark contrast to the vile way he speaks. “Think about how good I am to you…how I take care of you. Picture my hands, my voice, my fucking cock.”

And he’s right. In every fantasy, you see his face, first and foremost. Whisper his name into the air of your room as your fingers curl into your cunt.

It’s always him.

“Say it,” he murmurs now, offering another gentle kiss to your neck. “Tell me I’m the only one. Fucking tell me I’m the only one you cum for.”

Your fingernails move to scrape down his scalp, tangling in his soft curls as you subtly keep him in your arms.

You’re not too surprised by this request. Even if the two of you might never be anything more than friends, you imagine he needs to know. He needs to hear that even after everything, you still choose him.

You’re tempted to taunt him with a quippy retort. Egg him on, tell him he’s nothing compared to your vibrator.

Yet you find yourself whispering, “Only you, Har. Only ever you.”

For a moment, he stills. As if overcome by the words, the admission.

You pull him further into your embrace. “Always you.”

With a smirk, he leans back just far enough to meet your eye.

And you both smile.

“That’s my fucking girl.”

🥹 I can't believe we've made it to the end of the main series!!! No they're not technically together right now, BUT!!! There will be extras and who knows what they might get up to later ALSFJEFD

Thank you so much to everyone for reading and being so kind, I appreciate you all more than you know!!! You have my entire heart to heaven and back!!!! AND TINK, HARRY, AND I WILL SEE YOU AGAIN VERY SOON!! Specifically for the Halloween extra HAHAHA 😭♥️♥️

Next Part:

~ A-Mazing* (Halloween Extra)

Previous Part:

~ Jealous* (Pt. 4)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave @princessprongs @nuggetdean @storyschanging

1K notes · View notes

marsmaximoff · 13 days ago

Text

🎄; 25th of december ❄︎⋆˚⊹☃︎

content warning: fem!reader. pure fluff. many curses. reader is 20 and calls him “dym” as a short name, he calls her “love, darling and my love”. they’re dating. let me know if i missed something.

word count: 732 ❣️

author’s note: i wasn’t planning on posting anything for Christmas, but i got this idea and i had to write it. so, i apologize if the quality is not that good, as i usually spend days on my writings while this was all done on a matter of hours. also, english is my third language, so i’m sorry for the mistakes. constructive criticism is welcomed as always. thank you so much for the support on my last post, and merry christmas everybody! 🤍 happy hanukkah, kwanzaa, diwali or any other celebrations too 🫶🏻 and if you don’t celebrate anything, have a happy end of the year ✨ p.s.: god im in love with dmitri and almost no one is posting anything, i’ll probably post more of him. anyways, enjoy!! <3

the silk grazes my fingertips as i stretch my arm. i tentatively palm the bed looking for some warmth, for him. but the sheets and pillows are the only things left around me.

the screen of my phone clears up as i blink. 11:28 a.m. with a bit more of focus, the notifications slowly reveal themselves and my eyes travel through them searching for his name. nothing. he’d have texted me if something had requested his presence back at the office. although, he couldn’t have business to deal with on Christmas, right? not this soon, at least.

the pearly white snow greets me through the window making me stand up with a smile. how gorgeous. i make my way to the kitchen to grab something to drink while knotting my robe, and the shiny decor welcomes me effusively. i don’t realize at first, but a big and unfamiliar shadow catches my attention from the corner of my eye while i open the carton of juice.

“holy fuck. dym?”

our christmas tree, stunning as always, lays now almost drowned in presents. in fact, the stack is such, that i can’t even make out the floor for a good four-five steps. some light chuckles behind my back fill the room with the warmth i’ve been craving since i woke up. “beautiful, isn’t it?”

i turn around to dmitri sitting on the couch, staring at me with a huge grin. as if that number of gifts was the most normal sight in the world. “what the hell?” “you’ve had me waiting, darling. did you sleep good?” he asks affectionately.

“what are you, on your Santa Claus era?” i say looking at the presents again. he grants me that laugh that i adore so much as i try to give them a quick count, but after the twentieth, it starts to feel simply bonkers. they’re not even small ‘little treats’, oh no. there’s large boxes and bags everywhere.

“seriously, are you giving gifts to your whole fucking building? or is every one of your men getting one?”

“wrong. and. wrong” he says proudly, and once he’s in front of me, he just smiles. there are obvious love and joy in his eyes, which sends a cute fluttery feeling to my heart. “dmitri-“ his lips seal my words with a gentle kiss. “merry christmas, love”. a sparkle makes space on his gaze that could so easily compete with the star of the tree itself. wait. oh. oh. there’s no way.

his hands take mine and softly walk me towards the swimming pool of gifts. then, he sits close by and points at them with his head. “come on, darling. you’ve had me feeling all impatient”. he looks so excited. so cheerful. but i can’t help the slight guilt that takes over me. “dym, you’re crazy. tell me these are not only for me. you can’t- god do you even have an idea of how many there are?!” “40”. he doesn’t even take a single second to think about it. seriously, what the actual fuck? “two for every christmas i couldn’t spoil you in” this has to be a damn dream. “we’ve been friends since school!” i say grinning. “but we weren’t dating. so it doesn’t count. i wanted to make it special.” “you really didn’t have to” i refute. “i wanted to. please don’t make me wait anymore i need to see your reactions”. with a final glance, i turn around and grab the first one. “ohhh you’ll love that one!”

how can he be so cute? he wasn’t wrong, tho. it was a special edition of one of my favorite books. during the next hours, i go one by one, filling the room with gasps, yells, curses and many “oh my good”s and “thank you so much”s.

by the end of it, i’ve got clothes, books, headphones, plushies, a phone, jewelry, plane tickets, merchandising, signed stuff from famous people i love, and the cherry on top; a new car.

“you are mad. i love you so much but you’re mad” i say hugging him still shocked. “madly in love with you, you mean” he answers pulling back. “you liked them, then?” “loved them” he gives me another kiss, longer this time. “good. merry christmas, my love. i love you” he adds.

he can only hope i’ll love the ring just as much.

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roseykat · 1 year ago

Text

KINKTOBER DAY 9

TITLE: Don't bite the hand that feeds you

PAIRING: Seungmin x reader

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: Featuring Seungmin as your lecturer's student assistant who runs your tutorials and possesses just as harsh a personality as he fucks.

TAGS: Mean tutor Seungmin, oral sex (f!reader receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, swearing.

KINK: Freelance

KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @queenmea604

A/N: this is for all the Seungmin stans out there x

There isn’t any way to work around a more stubborn person. People that you’ve met before don’t even come close to the level of arrogance that this person carries with them. That person being one of your tutors for a class at Uni, Seungmin. For some reason, he always has the time of day to help other people but has an issue with your supposed incompetence in completing a task when it comes to you.

Seungmin never checks your work, never goes over your answers, discusses your ideas or anything like that. He has a very prickly attitude yet only those needles are only for you. You see the sigh he lets out whenever you need to approach him to clarify something he went over during the tutorial. You see the crease between his eyebrows as the annoyance grows when you ask if he can read a draft of yours before you submit it.

He never does that with other students. Seungmin is happy to help them, makes conversation with them before class, and always seems to have time for them.

The difference in his behaviour towards you definitely placed an unnecessary burden on your shoulders. But you’re not one to budge. Whether his intentions are malicious or not, you’re not exactly an easy one to crack, which is why you continued to supposedly ‘bother’ him.

“Hey,” you approach him after one of his tutorials, hoping you used a good enough manner to not light a fire under his seat. “Would you be able to check this for me?”

Seungmin furrows his eyebrows - not a good sign, and averts his eyes from the whiteboard to look at your paper, “I can’t help you with that.”

“And why is that?” You question. “You had no trouble looking at everyone else’s. How’s mine any different?”

“Judging from your grades, I’d suspect there would be a lot of differences,” he responds.

“I’ll take that as a compliment since I’m one of the top in the class thank you,” you scoff.

“And one of the top most arrogant too,” Seungmin fires back. “If you haven’t got anything relevant to show me, I suggest you leave. The next tutorial group starts in twenty minutes.”

Your face contorts slightly, “well since this isn’t relevant enough for you, is it possible for you to check over one of the drafts we have to send in on Friday?”

“Can’t do that either-“

“Then what can you do exactly?” You cut him off impatiently. “Seriously, I’ve been trying to ask you for help for the past two weeks and you’ve only ever given me vague answers to my questions and you won’t proofread any of my work which is what you’re here to do.”

Seungmin takes off his glasses and closes the distance between himself and you, “I don’t help out entitled people like you who always demand things.”

You glare up at him, “I’m not entitled. I was just merely commenting about the fact that you don’t do what you’re being paid to do.”

“And you just keep proving my point as to why you are entitled, because you don’t shut up and you always complain. After every tutorial, you come up to me and ask me for something.”

“Yeah, just like everyone else and yet, I don’t see you giving the same shit to them as you do to me,” you argue right back with him.

“That’s because you expect things to be handed to you on a silver plate. Unlike them, you don’t work for your shit with me,” Seungmin responds, placing the cap on the whiteboard marker a little bit too rough.

“Being here is me working for my shit,” you press back. “You’re just being a stubborn ass because you don’t like me.”

“Well you’re right with one thing,” he sighs.

You roll your eyes and scoff, “fuck you honestly.”

It took a lot of effort not to just shove Seungmin out of your way as you headed out the door with a fresh stormy cloud looming over your head. Felix could spot it a mile away when you went to meet up with him for lunch nearby after his class too.

“What’s wrong?” He asks carefully, studying the pained expression on your face.

“Nothing,” you sigh, trying to let it go. “Just one of my stupid tutors.”

“Is this the same one that isn’t doing his job properly?” Felix questions, remembering the conversation you both had about him a while back.

“Bingo.”

“You know, he’s probably dealing with things in the background that you don’t know about,” Felix points out, his habit of always giving people the benefit of the doubt starting to shine through.

“Yeah, pretty sure he’s dealing with ‘absolute fucking dickhead disorder’,” you spit. “And even if he was - even if the worst is happening to him, he has no right to be taking out his anger or frustration on me.”

Felix sports a disappointed look on his face, “is it just you, or are there others?”

“It’s just me, I swear.”

“Okay, I believe you,” Felix assures. “If he really is as bad as you say he is, maybe just ignore him. We’ve only got seven weeks left, that’s not too long until you can get away from him, yeah?”

It was easier said than done, because the next round of tutorials that approached in the following week, opened up that fresh wound of just seeing Seungmin’s face and dreading it. All of Felix’s advice went out the gate, almost like it was never there in the first place.

In the end, you simply chose not to speak. What’s the point in arguing with a person who won’t move?

So right after the tutorial, you don’t bother darting straight to Seungmin and asking for his help. He’s not willing to give it to you so there’s no point in lingering behind. As you pack your things up from the table and start to head out, Seungmin peers at you from behind the glasses that you so badly want to knock off his face sometimes.

He’s not entirely stumped that you haven’t approached him, but he is a bit intrigued. Maybe he had come across too strongly with you the other day - maybe within the past month without being of any help to you at all. Then again, Seungmin isn’t the most apologetic of people.

“Surprised you’re not asking me to check anything for you,” he projects his voice to you just before you leave the class.

You heard him on your way out, but what’s a retaliation going to do? Only add fuel to your own fire. Seungmin isn’t the one who’s got something to lose here. He’s just a student tutor who’s clearly got enough competence to reinforce the learning you receive during lectures. At the end of the day, his grades for this class aren’t on the line. Yours are.

“Y/N,” you hear a voice call out to you, recognising it to be Felix. Caught up in the swirl of your own thoughts, you almost forgot Felix had been waiting for your tutorial to end as he sat in a row of seats against the wall.

“Hey,” you call out to him.

“So, how was it? Did you say anything to him?” He asks as you sit down beside him.

“I just gave up,” you answer. “I forgot that you can’t get your point across to dickheads so I stopped trying. I’ll just go to the other classes' tutorials if they let me switch. Or maybe I can just cross-check my work with their tutor.”

“Geez, that bad is he?”

“The fucking worst,” you confirm.

However, you weren’t surprised to learn that Seungmin’s attitude and behaviour still continued in the following tutorial, close to an essay hand-in date which is what you didn’t need. The only saving grace is that instead of going over the content that you learned in an earlier lecture, Seungmin allowed his students to study for another upcoming in-class test in the upcoming week.

You spent that time wisely working on the essay you needed to hand in since it was the first due. Then, by two o’clock, everyone started wrapping up their study session. You slot your books into your bag, zip it up, and ready to leave.

“You, come here,” Seungmin speaks in your direction, but you really don’t want to listen. At first to begin with, you were surprised he was even talking to you.

“And if I don’t?”

“Don’t be stubborn. I want to talk about your assignment,” he replies. He set his bait and waited for you to take it. So you approach him hesitantly from your chair, leaving your bag behind at the table.

“See, how hard was that?”

You roll your eyes. Not even a full conversation in and he’s already made you reach your limit, “oh go fuck yourself.”

Upon hearing your nasty sentiment, Seungmin’s hand latches quickly onto your wrist, “what did you just say?”

You look down at your arm in disbelief, then back up to him, his eyes narrowing at you, “what?”

“Say it again.”

“I said; ‘go fuck yourself.”

“Fucking brat.”

Without warning, Seungmin’s hands grasp the sides of your arms in a flash, backing you against the wall behind him. Out of nowhere, his mouth comes down and crashes against yours in a bruising kiss. There’s no time to process what’s actually going on when you start kissing him back, allowing his tongue to delve deeper into his mouth.

In the back of your mind, you can’t believe your own actions, but at the same time, pushing back on him also feels like you’re letting some of that frustration go. To take things further, Seungmin breaks away from you for a moment, turning your body by your arms, and backs you straight into the desk until your hips hit the edge.

Your first instinct tells you to lean back while your legs automatically lift so that Seungmin can slot right in, pressing his semi-hard dick against your pussy.

It gives you the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist, trying to bring him in closer as you hope for more friction. Seungmin pins your wrists down to the desk, kissing along your jaw and down to your throat where he bites and sucks until there’s a line of future regretful hickies for you to deal with later on.

“D-Do something,” you stammer, feeling so dizzy from the pleasure that you desperately start to chase.

“Why should I?” He mumbles into your skin.

You turn your head, watching figures of people pass by through the frosted glass of the door who could potentially walk in at any given time. In saying that, a portion of you recognises that there’s something so naughty about being caught in the act.

“Please Seungmin,” you beg for him, feeding into his ego.

His head rises from your neck, “that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say ‘please’.”

You didn’t care what he meant by that. All you care about is relieving that itch inside the pit of your stomach because you know that horny feeling will take a long time to dissipate. Nonetheless, Seungmin seems to listen to you when he unbuttons the first two buttons of his white dress shirt.

His fingers reach down to your jeans, unzipping them and yanking them right off your legs until you’re just left in your underwear, already soaking through. Seungmin uses the pad of his thumb to brush gently over the fabric which is sticky to the touch. It makes the corner of his mouth tug up.

“Keep quiet if you don’t want people to come in,” he warns before taking his glasses off and placing them to the side of you before kneeling down.

Your chest already starts heaving just feeling his warm breath fan across your inner thighs. The anticipation leading up to it has you clawing at the desk when Seungmin starts removing your underwear.

“Look how fucking wet you are,” he speaks from a stance of astonishment just seeing what he was able to do to you from a simple makeout session and some rough and tumble.

His comment turns you into a flustered mess that is easily shattered when Seungmin moves his mouth closer to your pussy, kissing your inner thigh and inching closer until he reaches your clit. Your back arches in an instant. One hand clasps over your mouth to stifle a loud moan at the heat of Seungmin’s mouth, the other grabs a fistful of his hair and starts tugging. He doesn’t dare hold back; sucking on your clit, lapping up at what he can to make your entire body shudder.

It never occurred to you that Seungmin is like this. You’ve always made him out to be some rich, entitled, arrogant, teacher's pet with good grades and an outstanding reputation when he goes and does shit like this – eating you out in broad daylight, in public.

Whatever rabid spirit took over Seungmin, it wasn’t stopping him. His tongue dances perfect circles and random shapes against your clit, embracing your thighs quivering shamelessly around his head.

“Oh my god, feels…feels so good,” you mutter, using every drop of energy you can to subdue the moans into whimpers.

Not even the hand you’ve been trying to use to cover your mouth is working because when Seungmin keeps building you up to that edge, you increasingly become louder. But that’s all on him for initiating this, not that you’re complaining. Not when your head is just about thrashing back behind you on the wooden surface trying to syphon all the pleasure you’re getting. It’s like rouge electricity, a live wire inside of you that has no chance of being tamed.

“Fuck, gonna make me cum,” you mumble, eyelids already fluttering. “So…good.”

Seungmin heard that as a sign to press his face further into your pussy but kept the same momentum and pace that his tongue uses to make you cum, and when you do, every ounce of pleasure pours into all the cells throughout your body. It rattles you in such a good way, that you forget how hard you’re tugging on Seungmin’s hair as he continues to eat you out through to the very end. But you managed to stay quiet – just.

Your body unstiffens and your chest heaves up and down trying to catch air. The orgasm was so massive that afterwards, you couldn’t figure out what time it was or where you were. It nearly took out every bit of consciousness you had remaining.

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he rasps.

Whatever that means – not that you can articulate it as of yet. You’re still trying to grapple with reality and when Seungmin unzips his pants to free his cock, you know there’s no point in trying.

He’s big in length and has a sizeable girth. He teases you with his tip, sliding up and down from your now oversensitive clit to your drenched hole. Just feeling how wet you are makes him wonder one thing:

“Are you a virgin?” He asks.

You’re still trying to regain a bit of consciousness, only able to muster a few words at a time, “no...no I’m not.”

“I pinned it down to either that or someone hasn’t touched you in a while,” he responds. You groan at the embarrassment. Seungmin must obviously be that experienced for him to make such an observation.

“The latter. Now just hurry up and fuck me.”

“Shut up,” Seungmin snipes, even though he begins to push his cock inside of you at a terribly slow pace.

You didn’t realise how much you had been aching to have someone inside you. Your own fingers can’t seem to do the right trick of actually feeling full and satisfied. But now that Seungmin is here, slowly thrusting in until he reaches the hilt, can he make you feel that way.

“Jesus fuck,” Seungmin bites down on his lip and has to hold onto the edge of the desk beside your body for support.

He’s never felt anything like it. Even after sleeping with other women prior to you in his past, there’s something about the way you feel that isn’t like the rest. Maybe it’s from the fact that you hadn’t been touched in a while or not, either way, Seungmin can’t contain himself when he starts thrusting properly.

His cock glides in like melted butter, the lewd wet sounds making you want to hide from embarrassment. But Seungmin revels in it like it’s about to slip through his fingers like sand. So he lowers his body onto yours, resting some of his weight comfortably on you. It’s intimate yes, but it enables Seungmin to start whispering things in your ear.

“So fucking wet for me, aren’t you?” He purrs. “Such a good girl for taking all of my cock, especially for someone who hasn’t been touched in a while. Just opened up for me so easily.”

No words could ever spring to your mind in response to that, but it causes your body and mind to have a reaction you’re all too familiar with from about five minutes ago. That tingly feeling starts creeping up inside you the longer Seungmin keeps fucking you. His cock repetitively hits such a deep sweet spot that you don’t think anyone’s ever reached before.

“S-Seungmin…it feels…fuck it feels so good,” you moan right in his ear, your arms clinging to his back.

“Yeah?” He chuckles. “I bet it does with the way that you’re clenching around me.”

Seungmin just keeps finding ways to unintentionally embarrass you, but if there’s one thing that he’s learnt about you and himself, it’s that he likes seeing you so flustered. He thinks it’s cute. In saying that, he doesn’t want to get too caught up in things when the euphoria that has already built itself impossibly high starts making itself known.

Just like you, Seungmin feels too good right now. He’s doused in warmth from the heat wrapping around his cock and the way that your walls keep involuntarily clamping around him.

“S’too much…” you gasp for air, fingers digging into his clothed arms at this point. “M’gonna cum again please.”

Seungmin presses himself up away from your body but still thrusting at his same pace, “go on then. I want to see your face when you do.”

It washes over you quickly and he’s fast to clock onto the small reactions beginning to change. The only thing that doesn’t alter is the fucked-out look you have on your face. That remains all the way up until the bliss starts packing its punch. Seungmin’s hips don’t hamper your orgasm, not when he watches your eyes roll back and sees the words to describe how you’re feeling become lodged in your throat.

“Y-Yes!” you call out, your voice echoing throughout the empty classroom. Your wet walls convulse around Seungmin’s cock, clutching onto him for dear life as you cum hard.

“I suppose that’s why you cum so easily, huh?” He asks, catching his breath. “Because nobody’s been touching you? Poor thing.”

Your cheeks burn a bright red as Seungmin continues to fuck you, right up until he’s had his fill. Regardless of how overstimulated you are, he can’t stop because he’s nearly there. His hips stutter forward a few times as he chases the tail of his orgasm, getting hit with it right at the last second.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” he lowers his head, watching where his cock keeps disappearing into and listening to your whimpers. It’s all enough to tip him right over the edge and into a pool of warm euphoria. “Yes – fuck!”

With a few more grunts and thrusts, Seungmin slows right down as he cums inside you. For a split second there, his vision started to go splotchy. It reminded him of the fact that he hasn’t cum that hard in a while. In saying that, you get to bask in the warm sensation that fills your lower half.

“Shit,” he gasps, breathing heavily. In the back of his mind, something told him that he shouldn’t have done that. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you swallow, trying to dampen your dry throat. “You’re lucky I’m into that.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle and for the first time, you’ve actually seen Seungmin genuinely smile.

A/N: I’m not going to lie, I kind of want to make a part 2 to this but reader finds out that she’s pregnant lmao

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #bang chan smut #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut #changbin smut #felix smut #i.n smut #bang chan x reader #felix x reader #hyunjin x reader #i.n x reader #lee know x reader #seungmin smut #seungmin x reader #changbin x reader #han jisung x reader

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