#if you’re actually reading this I’m so sorry

[simplygojo]

Gettin' A Full Service

Author's Note: Y'all I'm so sorry im nothin but a nasty dog bc no way this is 4.3k 💀. ANYWHO this smutty fic idea came to me when seeing the art used as the cover for this by @actuallyvalerie (original art is linked here), I just couldn't help myself from writing this...heh. Hope you enjoy!

Requests are open! Please read the Request Guidelines before submitting a request <33

Pairing: Mechanic!Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Word Count: 4.3k (im a nasty dog y'all...)

Warnings: 18+ content, SMUT!, oral (f receiving), intercourse, choking, pet names, mndi

^^ art by @actuallyvalerie

The low rumble of engines filled the air as you stepped into the garage, the familiar scents of motor oil and gasoline swirling around you. Your heartbeat quickened the moment you caught sight of him—Toji Fushiguro. 

He was bent over the hood of his car, focused on something behind the propped-up hood.

The muscles in his broad back flexed as he worked, his white tank top clinging to his sweat-slicked skin. His strong arms glistened with a light sheen of sweat, smudged with streaks of oil that only added to the raw masculinity he exuded. 

A dark smear ran along his sharp jawline, the grease contrasting with his striking, rugged features. The late afternoon sun filters through the wide windows of Toji’s garage, casting long shadows across the floor as you lean against the doorframe, watching him work. 

His muscles flexed as he tightened a bolt with practiced ease. His black hair falls into his eyes, and he grunts, annoyed, pushing it back with his forearm before continuing.

You can’t help but smile at the sight. Toji, focused and in his element, and it was really turning you on…

The way he concentrated on the task at hand, brow furrowed and lips slightly parted as he grunted with effort, was enough to send heat coursing through you. Each twist of the wrench, every subtle shift of his frame, seemed to radiate raw masculinity, igniting a spark of desire deep within you.

Your pulse quickened, and you felt a warmth pooling in your core, drawn in by the mix of confidence and sheer masculinity he exuded.

Toji, sensing your gaze, glances over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You gonna stand there all day or actually say something?” His voice is teasing, rough around the edges, but there’s that familiar smirk tugging at his lips, the one that makes your heart skip a beat.

You push off the doorframe and walk over, hands in your pockets, pretending to study the car (like you gave a damn) as if you understand half of what he’s doing. 

“Just admiring the view,” you reply with a grin, leaning against the workbench. “You sure know how to make fixing a car look… good.”

Toji snorts, wiping the grease from his hands onto a rag before tossing it aside. “Yeah? Well, don’t get used to it. Not many people get a free show.”

You roll your eyes at his usual bravado but can’t deny that there’s something captivating about him. He straightens up, towering over you with that smug grin still firmly in place. “What, you just came here to stare?”

You shrug, deciding to play along. “Maybe. Can’t blame me, right? You’re good at what you do.”

His smirk widens, and he steps closer, towering over you now. There’s an intensity in his gaze, but it’s softened by the playful glint in his eyes. “You saying I should charge for it?”

You laugh, lightly shoving him. “Please, you’d drive everyone away with that attitude.”

He chuckles, leaning back against the car, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Probably. But you’re still here, so I must be doing something right.”

You look up at him, biting back a smile. “Guess I’m the lucky one, huh?”

Toji’s eyes narrow playfully, but there’s a warmth in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Damn right.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the garage filling the space once again. 

After a moment, you speak again, your voice softer. “Need any help?”

Toji glances at you, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You offering?”

You shrug, moving closer to inspect the tools scattered on the workbench. “Maybe. I’m not exactly a mechanic, but I can hold a wrench.”

He snorts, amused, and hands you a tool.

“Don’t hurt yourself. That’s my job.”

You take it, rolling your eyes at his comment. But as you stand next to him, following his instructions and working together on the car, there’s a quiet contentment in the air. 

You grip the wrench, watching Toji’s hands as he guides yours to the right bolt. His touch is firm, steady, sparking a heat between your thighs. His body is so close to yours that you felt the warmth radiating off him. 

You try to focus on the task at hand, but with Toji standing over you, the subtle scent of engine oil mixed with his cologne makes your heart race, and it's hard to concentrate.

"Like this?" You ask, adjusting the wrench in your hand, trying to distract yourself from your dirty thoughts.

Toji’s lips twitch into a smirk as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"Tighten it, don’t baby it, baby." 

You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. You give the wrench another turn, putting more effort into it this time.

"There. Happy?" You ask, looking up at him.

Toji’s gaze flickers down to meet yours, and for a moment, the air between you seems to thicken. 

His eyes darken, a hint of something playful yet dangerous lurking in them.

He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans in even closer, so close you can feel the brush of his arm against yours.

"Not bad," he murmurs, his voice low. His big arms reached over you and tightened the bolt even more, just showing off his strength. "Maybe you’re not as useless around here as I thought."

You narrow your eyes at him, though there’s no real annoyance in your expression. "Oh, please. I’m the best help you’ve ever had."

Toji’s grin widens, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Big words for someone who didn’t even know where the wrench was five minutes ago."

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can, he reaches past you to grab another tool, his arm brushing against your side. 

He doesn’t move away, staying so close that your shoulders are practically touching. It’s deliberate—you can tell by the smug look on his face.

Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t back down. Instead, you let your own smile grow, deciding to meet his teasing head-on.

"Maybe I don’t know cars, but I know you like showing off. How long did it take you to fix that last engine again? Two hours?"

Toji lets out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying your banter. "Two hours, and it was perfect. Don’t forget that part."

You tilt your head, raising an eyebrow. "Perfect, huh? Or just barely passable?"

He narrows his eyes at you, though there’s a playful edge in his gaze.

"Careful. You’re gonna talk yourself out of a favour if you keep that up."

"Oh? What favour?" you ask, leaning against the car now, your arms crossed, fully enjoying the back-and-forth.

Toji leans down, bringing his face closer to yours, his grin shifting into something more dangerous, more tempting. "The one where I let you stick around here. Don’t think I’ll keep you around for free."

Your breath hitches slightly, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you match his energy, pushing back without missing a beat.

"Oh, so you’re saying I have to work to earn my keep? What’s the price, then? More wrench-holding?"

He chuckles again, the sound deep and rich, vibrating through the air between you. 

His eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, the teasing fades into something heavier, something that lingers in the charged space between your bodies. 

He’s close enough now that you can see the flecks of green in his eyes, close enough that you can feel the warmth rolling off him.

"Nah," Toji says, his voice dropping an octave, turning more serious but still holding that playful tone.

"I’ve got enough wrenches. I’m thinkin’ of something a little more… personal."

You can feel your pulse quicken, but you don’t look away. "Oh? Like what?"

He leans in, just barely brushing his lips against your ear.

"Guess you’ll just have to stick around to find out."

For a second, the world seems to slow down, your senses overwhelmed by the proximity of him, the way his voice sends shivers down your spine. 

But before you can say anything, Toji pulls back, the smirk returning to his face as he casually grabs another tool and turns back to the car, as if nothing just happened.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart still pounding in your chest.

Toji always knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to get under your skin in a way that leaves you wanting more.

“Tease,” you mutter under your breath, shaking your head with a smile.

Toji glances over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“I’m not teasing this time, I’m just busy. Like I said, stick around...”

His voice was low, almost serious, but that playful gleam in his eyes hasn’t faded. 

He gives you a wink, and something about the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.

You open your mouth to reply, but words seem to get stuck in your throat. The way he’s looking at you right now—like you’re the only thing in the room worth paying attention to—makes your pulse quicken. 

The air between you feels heavy, charged with an energy you can’t quite name.

Toji watches your reaction closely, his grin fading into something softer, more intense. He drops the tool he was holding onto the workbench and turns fully toward you, wiping his hands on the rag before tossing it aside.

“You really think I’m just messin’ with you?”

Your breath catches as he steps closer, closing the already small distance between you. His presence is overwhelming—tall, broad, and carrying that rough, irresistible confidence he always seems to have. 

But this time, there’s something else in the way he looks at you, something different. His teasing smirk is gone, replaced by a look that makes your heart race.

“Toji…” you start, but you’re not even sure what you want to say.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly against your chin, tilting your face up so that you’re forced to meet his eyes. The touch is surprisingly gentle, almost tender.

“I’m serious,” he says quietly, his voice low and rough around the edges. “You think I haven’t noticed? The way you look at me, the way you linger around here like you’re waitin’ for something to happen.”

Your cheeks burn at his words, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment or anticipation.

Maybe both.

But before you can respond, Toji’s hand slips from your chin, moving to rest against the side of your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through you.

“I’ve been holding back,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse, like he’s been keeping this confession locked away for too long.

The dark, dangerous edge in his tone sends a shiver down your spine. His grip on you tightens slightly, a subtle indication of just how much control he’s been forcing himself to maintain.

You’re painfully aware of how close he is now—his broad frame nearly eclipsing yours, his body radiating a heat that makes it harder to breathe. The faint scents of oil and metal lingers in the air, mixing with something distinctly him. It’s intoxicating.

“M’didn’t wanna push too far, but... maybe I’ve been waitin' for you to give me the green light.” His words hang in the air, a challenge wrapped in velvet. It’s like a line drawn in the sand, daring you to cross it.

Your heart pounds, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Every inch of you is hyper-aware of Toji—the way his hand lingers on your neck, the way his gaze seems to devour you. You want this. God, you want this.

“What if I gave you that green light right now?” The words leave your lips before you can fully process them, but there’s no hesitation, no second-guessing.

For a fleeting moment, Toji’s pupils dilate, his eyes narrowing with something primal, something dangerous. The smirk that spreads across his face is no longer playful—it’s predatory.

“Then I wouldn’t waste any more time.”

Before you can draw another breath, his mouth crashes down on yours, and it’s like a dam breaking—everything he’s been holding back unleashed in one searing, possessive kiss.

His hands move from your throat to your waist, pulling you against him so fiercely that your feet nearly leave the ground.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he kisses you. His lips are demanding, rough, as if he’s staking a claim.

You can feel the pent-up tension in every movement—the way his teeth graze your lower lip, the way his hands grip your hips like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he loosens his hold.

Your hands move instinctively to his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands, pulling him even closer.

You match his intensity, giving in to the heat that’s been simmering between you both for far too long. Every brush of his lips, every press of his body against yours ignites a fire low in your belly, making you ache for more.

Toji pulls back for just a moment, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours as he catches his breath. His eyes, hooded and dark, search yours as if looking for any trace of hesitation. But there is none.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” His voice is low, rumbling with barely restrained need.

Your answer comes not in words but in the way you tug him back to you, pressing your lips to his once more, harder this time, as if you’re trying to tell him with your body what your words can’t quite express.

Toji groans softly, the sound vibrating against your mouth as his hands begin to explore, sliding under the hem of your shirt.

His touch is scorching, sending jolts of electricity through your skin. 

There’s an urgency now, a desperation in the way his hands roam your body, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. 

Your back hits the cold metal of his car behind you, the chill momentarily cutting through the heat between you, but it only seems to heighten the tension. 

Toji’s hands are firm on your waist, holding you in place against the cool surface, his body pressed against yours in a way that has your pulse racing.

He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, his eyes smouldering with an intensity that makes your stomach flip. The darkness in his gaze has only grown deeper, and when he speaks, his voice is rough, husky, full of raw need.

“I’ve been patient,” he mutters, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your jeans. “But you don’t want me to hold back anymore, do you?”

The way he says it, the low growl in his voice, sends a wave of heat straight to your throbbing pussy. 

You can only manage a small shake of your head, your throat too tight to form any words.

His lips twist into a smirk, something predatory glinting in his eyes as he steps back just enough to grab you by the waist and hoist you effortlessly onto the hood of the car behind you. 

He quickly unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them off your legs, letting his hands roam your skin.

The cold metal beneath you contrasts sharply with the warmth of his body as he steps between your legs, spreading them open with a firm grip on your thighs.

“You’ve been teasing me, y’know that?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous as his hands trace the outline of your hips, fingers brushing the edge of your panties.

“You comin’ in here wearing these tight jeans, given’ me those looks.”

Before you can respond, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and, with one sharp tug, the fabric tears apart in his hands. 

The sound of it—quick and final—echoes in the small garage, and the cool air hits your skin, making you gasp.

Toji’s eyes darken as he looks down at you, his gaze hungry and unrestrained. He licks his lips, the smirk from earlier gone, replaced with something far more serious.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his hands sliding up your inner thighs, rough fingers brushing the sensitive skin as he leans down, bringing his face closer to your dripping cunt. His breath ghosts over your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Such a pretty sight.”

He pauses for a second, his thumb brushing dangerously close to your center, teasing, but not yet giving you the touch you desperately need. You squeeze your eyes shut, your head falling back with pleasure.  

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this.”

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he lets his thumb slide over your slick folds, testing your reaction, watching the way your body responds under his touch. The anticipation, the raw hunger in his gaze, it’s all too much, and you let out a desperate moan. 

Your breath hitches as Toji's thumb slides teasingly through your folds, his touch both rough and deliberate.

You try to bite back the groan threatening to escape your lips, but the way his eyes flicker up to meet yours tells you he notices everything.

“Don’t hold back now,” he rasps, his voice gravelly, sending shivers down your spine.

“I wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”

Before you can react, he dips his head between your thighs, and the warmth of his breath against your sensitive skin makes your body tremble. His hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you in place, as his tongue traces a slow, agonizing path over your slick heat.

Your gasp echoes through the garage, head falling back against the hood of his car as pleasure surges through you. 

You feel Toji’s lips curl into a smirk against you, clearly enjoying the way your body reacts to his touch. 

He doesn’t hold back—his tongue flicks, swirls, and sucks, each movement precise and calculated, as though he’s savouring every moment of this.

“Fuck, Toji—” you gasp, your hands instinctively flying to his hair, tugging at the dark strands as the heat builds inside you.

Toji growls in response, the vibrations of his voice against your pussy sending waves of pleasure through you, making your thighs shake. 

He dives in deeper, his mouth working relentlessly, tasting every inch of you, each flick of his tongue pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

The sensation is overwhelming—his lips, his tongue, the way his fingers dig into your thighs, holding you open for him, like you’re his to devour. 

It’s too much and not enough all at once. Every brush of his mouth over your clit sends electricity shooting through your body, and leaves you whining for more.

Your hips buck instinctively, seeking more, needing more of the pleasure he’s giving you.

Toji chuckles, dark and amused, his voice muffled as he continues to work you with his mouth. “So needy,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet against your heated skin. “I like that.”

It’s like he knows exactly how to unravel you, like he’s been waiting for this moment, studying you, learning your body, just so he could do this—just so he could make you fall apart beneath him.

“Toji—m' gonna cum,” you choke out, your voice barely a whisper, but he knows what you need. 

He speeds up, his mouth and fingers working in tandem, the relentless pace driving you higher and higher, until the world falls away and all that’s left is him, his touch, and the pleasure that crashes over you in waves.

You cry out as your orgasm rips through you, your thighs clamping around his head as your body shakes with the intensity of it. 

But Toji doesn't let up, continuing to lap at you, drawing out your pleasure until you're trembling from the aftershocks.

Finally, he pulls back, his lips and chin glistening as he looks up at you with a satisfied grin, eyes dark with lust. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, standing back up, towering over you once again.

“Come here, pretty girl,” he rasps, his voice a low growl that sends another wave of heat through your body.

Before you can catch your breath, his large hand slides behind your neck, gripping it firmly, but not harshly. 

He lifts you from your position on the car, pulling you up until you’re sitting in front of him, your legs dangling off the edge of the hood. His hand lingers at your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse, feeling the rapid beat of your heart.

Your body is still humming with the afterglow of your orgasm, but when you glance down and see Toji’s other hand move to the waistband of his pants, your breath hitches again. 

He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he unbuttons them slowly, deliberately, the tension between you thickening once more.

Toji's eyes gleamed with that dark hunger as his grip on your neck tightened just a fraction, enough to remind you who was in control. His free hand moved to the back of your thigh, pulling you forward on the car until you could feel the heat of him between your legs.

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice low and rough as his hand caressed the curve of your hip, dragging you closer to him.

“So pretty, all spread out for me.”

Your breath caught as you felt the tip of him brush against your entrance, your entire body already aching for him, needing more. You leaned into his grip on your neck, your pulse racing beneath his fingers as you whispered,

“Please, Toji…”

He chuckled darkly at the desperation in your voice, his grin widening as he pressed himself just a little harder against you, teasing you.

“Please what, baby? You gotta use your words.”

You squirmed under his grip, your body screaming for more contact, for him to stop teasing.

“God Toji—I want y’to fuck me,” you said in frustration, your voice barely audible as your body begged for him.

“Good girl.” His voice was a low, approving growl as he finally lined himself up with you, his voice sent another wave of heat to your aching pussy. Without another word, he pulled you forward, thrusting into you in one swift motion.

The sudden stretch had you gasping, eyes wide as your walls adjusted to his size, the feeling of him filling you completely was overwhelming.

Toji groaned, his grip on your neck tightening as he stilled inside you, savouring the feeling for just a moment. You grabbed his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered through clenched teeth, his eyes locked on yours as each thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body.

Your hands instinctively reached for him, fingers tangling in his dark hair as you clung to him, every nerve in your body on fire. Toji’s lips curled into a smug grin at the way you responded to him, the way your body seemed to melt under his touch.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He rasped, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned in closer while maintaining his rough pace. His grip on your neck shifted to pull your head back slightly. 

“Tell me how good it feels.”

“It’s so good,” you moaned, your voice trembling as he began to pick up the pace, the force of his thrusts making the car creak beneath you. 

Every movement pushed you higher, the pressure building inside you all over again as Toji took you apart piece by piece.

Toji’s pace became relentless, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, and your body was a live wire, every nerve tingling under his touch. The pressure inside you built impossibly fast, the pleasure coiling tight in your core, threatening to snap.

“Toji—" you whimpered, barely able to form words as he drove into you, your body quivering beneath him. 

Hot tears pricked at your eyes from the overstimulation you felt—never ever had anyone fucked you like this.

He groaned at the sound of your voice, his lips brushing against your ear.

"That’s it, pretty girl. Cum f’me," he rasped, his hand tightening around your neck just enough to send a thrill through you.

The roughness of his voice, the commanding way he held you—it pushed you over the edge. 

Your body tensed, the world spinning as your orgasm ripped through you with a force that left you gasping, your walls clenching tightly around him as wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

You cried out his name followed by a pornographic moan, legs trembling, your nails digging into his shoulders as you rode the intensity of it, your whole body shaking as the pleasure overtook you. 

Toji’s hand slipped from your neck, sliding down to your waist as he kept moving, working you through the aftershocks as your body convulsed beneath him.

“There you go,” he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction, his hips slowing as he watched the way you writhed under him, completely lost in the ecstasy he’d given you.

Panting and spent, your body collapsed back against the car, your chest heaving as the last waves of your orgasm rolled through you.

Toji’s eyes gleamed with pride as he pulled out, his hands still possessively resting on your hips.

"You look so damn pretty when you cum," he murmured, leaning down to press a rough kiss against your lips, your body still tingling from the intensity of it all.

You were utterly spent, trembling in the aftermath, but as Toji’s lips curled into that familiar smirk, you knew...

He wasn’t done with you yet.

[yutarot]

IN PERFECT SYNC [j.jh smau]

twenty-two — i did it for you wc: 0.9k

there was nothing like the sweet, sweet bliss of fresh air amidst a college party. it was who you found in that fresh air, that made you want to turn around and walk back inside.

a face you haven’t seen for weeks.

the face of the girl who betrayed you.

giselle.

she didn’t see you right away, to engrossed in thought of whatever seemed to be bothering her, hidden behind a tail of cigarette smoke.

it was only after you’d turned your body in preparation to leave that she noticed you, her words stopping you in your tracks.

“you not having fun?” she asks.

you turn back around and she offers you her cigarette, which you politely refuse.

“i am..” you reply, “just needed some air.”

“ah.” she drops the cigarette to the floor, stomping it out with the toe of her heels. “sorry.”

you furrow your brows at her nicety. what’s the point in being nice now, after everything she had done to you?

as if she’s read your mind, she speaks up. “look yn, about Y..”

“you mean jaehyun? you can say his name giselle, i wont start crying.” you snap, and she flinches in shock.

“you know?” she asks, surprised.

but you’re even more surprised at her question. she seems eerily calm about the fact that Y was infact jaehyun. why was she more shocked about the fact that you knew? unless…

“you knew?” you question.

her head hangs in defeat.

she knew the whole time?

“giselle?”

she looks back up at you.

“i knew.” she whispers. “but yn-“

“it’s just one thing after the next with you.” you say, sighing, picking yourself up to go back inside.

but she stops you.

“i did it for you.”

huh..?

“what?”

“sleeping with him. i did it for you.”

you feel the need to bang your head incessantly against a brick wall in attempt to understand what the hell she means.

“oh so you slept with my ex bestfriend behind my back… all for me????” you feign adoration sarcastically, “awww giselle you didn’t have to.”

“yn! i’m serious!”

your smile falters as you notice a change in giselle a demeanour.

she’s telling the truth.

“what do you mean you did it for me?”

“remember when you got that message from Y saying ‘i’m over you.’?” she says.

“yes…”

“that night, i bumped into jaehyun on my way to the bathroom and uh, he looked upset.”

you’re confused.

“upset? what about?”

“you.”

you let her continue. “he was drunk, and so i asked him what was bothering him, not actually caring, just hoping i could yk, find out something interesting. and boy… i did…”

“he told you he was Y, didn’t he.”

“yeah… and look yn, i rlly wanted to go straight to you and tell you. but all i could think about was how you would feel if you found out that the one person in the world you hated the most ended up being Y. i knew that you would feel so embarrassed and hurt and i just really couldn’t stand to let you find out like that, not after everything he did to you and not after everything Y had said to you. i knew you were excited about it, i couldn’t stand to see you be let down.”

your eyes look down to the floor, trying to figure out what she’s trying to say. but she continues.

“so, drunk out of my mind, all i could think about is that he needs to get over you before you find out. i thought i could do something.”

“so you slept with him?”

“so i slept with him.”

wow.

you don’t know how to feel.

you have to admit, giselle’s drunken attempt at being a good friend to you was quite frankly stupid and albeit it insanely dumb, but her intentions shocked you.

“i didn’t think of the repercussions, i didn’t think of how you would feel when you found out about it. but i knew that id rather have you hate me than have your heart broken by the fact that Y was jaehyun. so i let you hate me. i wanted you to hate me, if it made you happy.”

just like how jaehyun did, you think to yourself. she had chosen your own feelings over hers.

“giselle…”

“i don’t expect you to forgive me, what i did was stupid. because you know now anyways.”

you don’t know how to tell giselle that whatever she did, worked. that jaehyun really is now over you, that Y isn’t him anymore. because something makes you reluctant to admit that she ended up being right.

“you really did all that so that jaehyun would get over me before i found out he was Y?”

“yeah, stupid right.”

you laugh, and she laughs too.

she’s right, it was stupid. and to you, her reasoning makes no sense, but to know that she didn’t purposefully betray you makes you feel a little better.

like jaehyun, she let you hate her so that your suspicion wouldn’t falter.

but you really can’t forgive her.

because, unlike jaehyun, she knew it was him she was sleeping with.

you sigh. “it’s too complex.”

she nods. “i’m really sorry.”

you smile, “see you around?”

“see you around.”

but you won’t. not tomorrow, not next year.

not ever.

mlist — next

notes; sorry to those of u who thought Y 2.0 was giselle 😢😢😢 but i wonder why yn and gigi won’t be friends ever again 🤔🤔🤔🤔 hmmm suspicious 🤔🤔🤔🤔 oh yeah btw tmrs chapter is the big Y 2.0 reveal😁 sleep well!

taglist — open; @https-yeonjun @chenlesfavorite @therealbobbyshloby @f6llsun @jkslvsnella @nanaxwi @cloudmrk @neocrashed @vernonburger @vividwritess @taeeflwrr @mmjhh1998 @cyjzzl @stareaa @minkyuncutie @mrkleelvr @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @slayhaechan @jaeveil @tynlvr @mslora @nosungluv @grassbutneo @dokyriu @girlz4jaem @axo-l0tl @yyangj3lly @solvrse @m1ng1swife @gentlepeach @xiuriii @soobinbunnie5 @tocupid @apolloxxivmin @ctrlstar @gyuguys @tokitosun @i-kai @flamingi @mrkleelvr @en-dream @queenrachelpink @ssweetreveries @swanyvess @flaminghotyourmom @hyuck-me @cryingforjae @hizhu @starfilledgaze

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Book Club - Pt2

modern!aemond x fem!reader

Part 1

Summary: Aemond allows you to break down some of his walls the more time you both spend together. He’s reluctant to let you dote on him and he thinks you’re too good to be real.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, oral(m), p in v, unprotected, publicish

Authors Note: i just love him so much 🗣️ & surprise i made it a little emo 🖤 🙂 

Word Count: 4.7k

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I open my eyes to an empty bed in a room that’s not mine. I stretch and groan at the tenderness between my thighs as I look around the room for Aemond. I slip on one of his shirts and make my way out of his room. When I enter the hall my nose is flooded with the smell of breakfast and I make my way to the kitchen. I watch him from the doorway and let my eyes scan over his toned back, groaning at the sweatpants low on his hips. I start to walk up to him with a smile on my face. 

“Go back to bed.” he hums without turning around. 

“Then come back to bed with me.” I pout and he chuckles. 

“I will when breakfast is done.” he turns and looks at me with a raised brow. His eye scans over my body before it locks to my eyes. 

“Hm?” I tilt my head walking over to him with a soft smile as his hands go to my waist and pull me closer. His fingers grip my waist before he turns me around. 

“Go back to bed.” he scoots me down the hall and I sigh walking back to his room. I sprawl out on his bed and look around to occupy my time. I look through his nightstand and smile when I see the books. I pull out a book and lay back and start to read.

“Are you comfortable?” Aemond hums walking in with a tray. 

“Very.” I set the book down next to me and watch him come over to the side table. 

“I was supposed to wake you up with breakfast.” he places the tray on the table. 

“I can pretend to be asleep.” I look up at him with a smile. “Go out to the hall.” I wave him off and scoot under the covers. 

“I’m already in here with the food.” he tries to hide the smile on his face. I shut my eyes and bury more into the blankets. I hear him sigh and feel him get into the bed next to me. When I feel the warmth of his body I turn and curl into him. He runs his fingers up my arms and I shiver holding him closer. “Wake up, Y/n.” his voice soft and I blink up to him. 

“Good morning.” I smile as he shakes his head. 

“I made you breakfast.” he hums biting his lip. 

“Mm, did you?” I look up at him placing my hand on his chest and dragging it lower. 

“Actual breakfast.” his hand grabs my wrist as he looks at me with a blown pupil. He pulls me up with him and reaches across to bring the tray to us. “Let me know what you think.” he waits for me to take a bite and when I do I sigh. 

“Gods, Aemond.” I hum taking another bite. “Why aren’t you a chef?” I look up and see his red cheeks. “Look at you.” I coo pinching his cheeks. His eye gets wide as I softly brush against the scar on his face and his hand goes to my wrist. 

“You shouldn’t ruin your hand with such an ugly part of me.” he hums, pulling the hand near his scar away and kissing it. 

“You’re beautiful.” I scrunch my brows and his eye snaps to mine. 

“I’m not.” he shakes his head with furrowed brows. 

“You are.” I nod. “You have such beautiful hair.” I hum threading my fingers through it. “A beautiful blue eye.” I swipe my thumb underneath it. “A beautiful voice and thoughts that I would be content to listen to for the rest of time.” he watches me as I ghost my fingers over his lips. “A beautiful-“ 

“Stop.” his voice strained as he looks at me with a teary eye. 

“Aem,” I frown and scoot closer to him, discarding the tray of food. 

“I’m sorry.” he shakes his head clearing his throat. I watch him as he blinks away his tears. 

“What’s wrong?” I keep my voice soft. 

“I’m waiting for you to realize you don’t like me.” he mumbles. 

“I think I like you too much.” he looks to me at my words. 

“You could do better.” I sigh at his words and cup his face once more so he has to look at me. I place a soft kiss on his lips and he lets out the softest whine. I kiss up his jaw and place featherlight kisses over his eye and make my way up to his forehead. 

“Can I take this off?” I look at him as my fingers rest against his eye patch. 

“You’ll leave if you do.” his voice broken. 

“I won’t.” I look at him and he nods. I slowly remove it and he watches me intently. I place soft kisses at the top of the scar and his hands grip my waist. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Aemond.” I whisper as I continue to kiss down his scar. 

“Y/n.” my name falls from his lips as I pull back and admire him fully. He pulls me into his lap and hugs me tightly. He clings to me and I brush my fingers through his hair as he buries his head into my neck. “I’m sorry I ruined breakfast. It’s probably cold now.” he mumbles against my skin. 

“Shh,” I hold him tighter and he seems to relax into my arms. “Let’s just lay back down.” he lifts his head up and looks to me with a watery eye again. 

“You don’t have to stay.” he furrows his brows. 

“Do you want me to leave?” I smooth his hair back. 

“No.” he shakes his head.

“Then let’s lay back down.” I kiss him softly and we get back under the covers and I pull him against my chest and he relaxes into me. 

“Thank you.” he breathes out. 

“For what?” I hum holding him tighter. 

“For staying.” his words barely audible as he wraps his arms around me pulling me even closer. 

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Y/n: Bring your favorite book to the store so I can read it. I’ll give you mine too. 

Aem: Or you can just bring it when you come over for dinner later? 

Y/n: I’m coming over for dinner later? 🫣

Aem: I would like you to. 

Y/n: What time?

Aem: Tell me when to pick you up. 

Y/n: Pick me up in like an hour. 

Aem: I’ll see you then. 

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I shuffle through the aisles trying to locate my favorite book. I smile when I spot it and pull it from the shelf. I walk around collecting little bookmarks and other things to give him along with the book. When I finally make my way back up front I spot him sitting in the chairs by the windows. 

“How are you?” I smile stopping at his side. 

“What’s all this?” he grabs the things ready to spill from my arms. 

“For you.” he looks up to me confused. 

“Why?” he looks to the things in his lap. 

“So you can have nice things when you read my book. Look at how cute this book mark is.” I grab it from the pile and he smiles watching me show him. 

“This is very cute. Thank you.” he hums with a smile on his lips. 

“Let me get you a bag.” I turn and make my way to the counter. I rummage around and throw more miscellaneous things in there along with the book and when I turn he’s standing above me. 

“What is all this now?” his eye widens as he takes in the bag. 

“Bookshelf decorations and other things I think you would like.” he exhales deeply and nods with a smile. 

“You will be in charge of decorating.” he sets the rest of the things I handed him in the bag. 

“We can do it together.” I put my hands on my hips looking up to him. 

“Yes, of course.” he chuckles grabbing the bag from my hand. “Come, let me make you dinner.” his hand slides around my arm and down to my hand. 

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“That was spectacular as usual.” I smile up at him as we finish the dishes. “Ready to decorate and trade books?” I grab his hand and start to tug him out of the kitchen. He stops us to grab the bag of items and brings it with us. I empty the bag out onto the couch and start to hand him things. 

“Where do you want me to put this?” he looks at the small figurine in his palm. 

“Wherever you think it’ll look best.” I hum taking a couple things and starting on the shelf next to me. We spend the next couple of minutes placing small trinkets around his shelf’s and I turn to him. “What do you think?” 

“I like it.” he looks around. “Reminds me of you.” he smiles at me and a blush rises up my neck. “Let me get my book.” he brushes past me and pulls a book down. We switch books once we sit on the couch and I smile at his choice. 

“Tell me why this is your favorite.” I look at the back of the book before looking up to him waiting for him to talk. He explains it thoroughly without giving anything away and I nod, listening. “I’m excited to read this.” I beam. 

“Tell me about yours.” he turns to me with a soft expression and listens as I start to discuss the main idea. His eye never leaves mine as I talk and I finish hoping he likes the book. “Do you want to start reading now?” he tilts his head, skimming his fingers over the book in his lap. 

“Yeah, I would like that.” I nod my head, dragging my eyes up to his. 

“Tea?” he starts to get up and I grab his hand. 

“Let me make it. You always cook for us.” I rise and try to keep him sitting. 

“Making tea for you is not a burden.” he cups my cheek as he towers above me. 

“What if I just want to do something for you?” my voice soft as I look up at him. 

“You do enough for me.” I chuckle at his words. 

“Like eat the food you make me? Or maybe talking nonstop for thirty minutes about a book?” he brings his other hand up to my other cheek. 

“By giving me a chance. Reading with me. Talking to me. Listening to me. Complimenting me. You simply existing is enough for me.” my breath catches at his words. 

“Aem,” my voice soft and he dips down and places a kiss on my lips. He pulls back and I look up to him through my lashes. “Let me make you some tea.” I reach up and cup his cheeks pulling him into another soft kiss. I turn and walk to the kitchen and I hear him walking behind me. “You could’ve started reading.” I chuckle filling his kettle. 

“And miss a moment with you?” I turn to him as I let the water heat. I shake my head with a smile before pulling two mugs down. I rummage through his different teas and pull out some honey and sugar. Once I’m done I turn and offer him his cup. 

“Thank you.” he hums, sipping on it. He brings us back to his library and we begin to read and slowly curl up with one another allowing each other to enjoy our books. 

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I walk around the shop for the last hour waiting for any last minute customers. I work on cleaning the sitting areas and tidying up the drink stations. I make my way to the front when I hear the bell. 

“Hi, welcome in.” I greet them coming out of the aisle setting my cleaning supplies down. 

“Hi.” Aemond smiles and I look him over. He looks divine in his black suit and I watch him as he slowly walks over to me. My breathing deepens as he steps closer and I tilt my head up to him. “How are you?” his hands wrap around my waist pulling me against him. 

“Good.” I nod my head, biting my lip. I press myself closer to him as I smell his cologne. “How was work?” I ask, searching his eye. 

“Not good to be honest.” his nostrils flare. “When does the shop close?” I glance over at the clock. 

“Now.” his hands drop from my waist. 

“Go lock the doors.” I quickly nod and lock the doors and he’s pulling me against him the next moment. 

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” I look up at him through my lashes. He glances at my lips and I smirk. I pull him down an aisle away from the windows and sink to my knees before him. 

“You don’t have to.” his voice like gravel as I unbuckle his belt. 

“I want to.” I pop the button and pull the zipper down and have him freed. He sighs above me as I swirl my tongue around his tip. 

“Gods,” he pushes my hair back to watch me. I trail my tongue along the sides and he groans. I press wet kisses along his hardening length and slowly start to sink my mouth around the tip. As I suck him into my mouth his fingers dig into my hair. I start to bob my head and he lets out soft curses. I get lost in his noises and look up to him confused as he pulls me off of him. “I need to fuck you.” I nod quickly and he’s pulling me up. 

“There’s a breakr-“ I gasp as he bends me over a desk. 

“This works for me.” he purrs in my ear as he bends over me. “Does this work for you?” he chuckles as I writhe beneath him while he lifts my dress up. 

“Aemond,” I plead, turning my head to look at him and he pushes my legs apart. 

“Hm?” he presses his fingers against my panties. “Sucking me off got you this wet?” he chuckles, pulling them aside and sliding his fingers through my wetness. 

“Please,” I whine as he dips his fingers into me. He pumps them pulling moans from me before he removes them. “Aemond, please,” I arch my back and my breath catches as he slams into me. The desk groans against the wood floors at his pace. I claw into the desk as he presses me against it. 

“Such a good girl for letting me use you.” he grunts and I whimper at his words. His fingers dig into my hips and with every thrust I’m gasping beneath him. One of his hands leaves my hips and lands onto my ass. I clench around him crying out and he chuckles landing his other hand on my other cheek. 

“Aemond,” I whine pressing back into him. His pace quickens and he slides a hand around me. His fingers circle my bud once and I burst around him and his fingers dig into my side. His hips stutter and he fills me, collapsing on top of me. 

“Thank you.” he kisses the side of my head before pulling out and situating himself. He pulls my panties back to the side and pulls my dress down. He lifts me off of the table and I look up to him still trying to catch my breath. 

“Are you feeling better?” my words still lulled with pleasure.

“I am.” he hums, kissing my forehead. “Can I make you dinner?” he smiles. 

“I would love that.” my face lights up at his words. 

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“Do you want to talk about your day?” I hum from across the table. 

“Working with my siblings can be insufferable at times.” he sighs looking at his plate. “Tell me about your day instead.” he looks up to me with tired eyes. 

“I had a few new customers today. I got to read some more of your book, which I’m enjoying.” his face softens at my words. 

“I’m glad you’re liking it.” he turns his attention back to his plate. 

“Is there anything else I can do? You still seem so stressed.” I frown at him and he shakes his head. “Are you sure?” I reach across the table for his hand and he looks up to me. I get up and take my empty plate with me and go to grab his. 

“What’re you doing?” he turns and looks up at me. 

“The dishes.” I smile and grab his plate placing it on top of mine. 

“You will not do the dishes alone.” he shakes his head standing. 

“I will.” I look up at him defiantly. “Go read and I’ll come in with tea shortly.” I nod him down the hall. 

“I will not have you wait on me in my own home.” he refuses to move. 

“Let me do this for you. Go relax.” he looks down to me with scrunched brows and I sigh, setting the plates down. I cup his face bringing his lips down to mine. I press mine against his softly before I kiss up his jaw. “Aemond let me just wash these dishes. You deserve to be taken care of too.” I press a kiss against his neck and he sighs pulling me against him. 

“Okay.” he nods his head and I watch him walk down the hall to his library. I walk to the kitchen satisfied and begin to boil the water for the tea while I clean up. After the dishes are dried I finish up making our tea and make my way to him. When I turn the corner I see him sprawled across the couch with my favorite book in his hands and his hair spilling over the armrest.

“I have tea for you.” I set his cup on the table in front of him as I card my fingers through his hair. He sighs leaning into my touch and I kneel down and continue the movements. 

“Absolutely not.” he grabs my wrist. “You will not cater to me anymore tonight.” I sigh as he turns and pulls me up. 

“I will if I want to.” I cross my arms over my chest. “You’ve barely let me ‘cater’ to you as is..” I trail off sinking into the couch next to him. 

“You shouldn’t have to.” his voice soft as he turns to me. 

“You had a bad day.” my voice borderline whiny. “Is it so bad for me to wrap my lips around you until you come?” his eye darkens at my words. “Or do the dishes? Or even just brush my fingers through your perfect hair?” I pout looking at him. “Do you wanna use me again?” my voice is soft as he pulls me closer. 

“You’re so perfect.” he places his lips against mine. “I don’t get it.” he pulls me on top of him, discarding my book next to his tea. “Why are you so nice to me?” he buries his head in my neck, holding me tightly against him. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I run my fingers through his hair and his arms tighten around me. “You are so kind and sweet. So smart and thoughtful. I think you’re perfect.” I hum scraping my nails against his scalp. 

“You must be the only person who can see that.” he mumbles against me. “Will you just stay over? To cuddle?” he pulls back and searches my face. 

“Of course.” I nod with a soft smile. He brings us to his room immediately and stops to help me take off my clothes. His fingers dance across my skin but never linger too long. His touch is warm but innocent as he removes my layers. I offer him the same heated touches and I unbutton his shirt and slide it down his arms. He steps out of his pants and pushes back the covers for us. We crawl into bed and he curls against me. 

“Thank you.” he hums as I hold him against me. 

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Y/n: I got you something 🤭 

Aem: What is it?

Y/n: A surprise. I can give it to you tonight when we discuss our books?

Aem: I’m still picking you up at seven?

Y/n: Yes, please.

Aem: I’ll see you then. 

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I smile to myself as I place the last piece of tape on the wrapping paper. I wait by the door and lock it behind me as I see Aemond walking up. The ride to his house is quick as we talk about our days. We walk up to the front door hand in hand. I’m excited to give him his gift and I’m chewing on the inside of my cheek waiting for the right time. 

“Why are you so antsy?” Aemond chuckles pulling me inside. 

“I want to give you your gift so badly. I hate waiting.” I beam up at him pulling my purse off my arm. I grab the gift out and hand it to him. He looks at me with flushed cheeks and offers me a shy smile. 

“I didn’t get you anything.” he says, holding it in his hands. 

“I know. I just really wanted to get this for you.” I nod waiting for him to open it. “Please, Aem.” I look up to him and he nibbles his lip as he slowly starts to pull at the seams of the tape. He reads the title and looks over the book before his eye snaps to mine. 

“Is this a-“ 

“First edition.” I nod looking at it in his hands. “Isn’t it so beautiful? It’ll look perfect on your shelves. Before you say it’s too much, it wa-“ he silences me with his lips. I sigh holding him closer as I smile against him. “Do you like it?” I mumble against his lips. 

“You got me a first edition of my favorite book.” he shakes his head in disbelief. “It’s amazing. You’re amazing.” his eye searches my face. 

“I’m so glad you like it.” I relax at his happiness. 

“I can’t believe you did this.” he presses his lips against mine again and I melt into him. “Thank you.” he murmurs before kissing me again. He pulls back and looks down to me. 

“You’re very welcome.” I reach up and cup his cheek. He leans into my touch and turns his neck to place soft kisses on my hand. He intertwines our hands and leads me down to his library. He places his new book on the table in front of us and turns to me. 

“Your favorite book was so much different than I was expecting.” his words laced with surprise. “I didn’t expect you to hand me a classic.” I fold my legs and fully turn to him. 

“The imagery, the detail, it just encapsulates the decadence of the period.” I hum. He talks about what his favorite parts were and I listen as he starts to go off on a tangent. 

“What did you think of mine?” he grabs his book from the table. 

“I can see why it’s your favorite.” his cheeks tint at my words. “It’s so thoughtful and brings up a lot of insights to the information it introduces to us.” I talk about his book for some time while he admires his book in his lap. “Let’s display it on your shelf.” a smile spreads across my face as I pull him up. 

“You do it. You’re better with displays.” he hands me the book. I walk to the shelf where his original book was and start to shift things to make room. I place the book facing outward and push the books back against it. I stand back and look at it. I turn to see what Aemond thinks and his lips are on mine before I can even speak. 

He pulls back as we breathe deeply and he tugs me to his room. “Can I?” his fingers skim along the hem of my dress and I nod. His hands cup my breasts once the piece of fabric is discarded. He kneads into them and I squeeze my thighs when he pinches my nipples. 

“Aem,” I cry out breathlessly. 

“These are perfect.” he dips down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. I hold him against me as he flicks his tongue against my hardened bud as I whimper above him. His fingers slide between my thighs and I groan as his long finger presses into my heat. His mouth moves to my other nipple as he continues to tease me over my panties. I gasp pushing my chest into his face as he nibbles against my chest. I start to pull at his shirt wanting to touch his skin and he pulls back with a blown pupil. 

“Look at you.” he towers above me, licking his lips. 

“Take this off.” I whine pushing his shirt up. He makes quick work of his clothes and leads us back over to the bed. He sits up against the headboard and pulls me onto his lap. I straddle him, grinding myself down onto his length and he groans, wrapping his arms around me. I press my lips against his as he slowly moves my hips across him. He lifts my hips up and I feel him press against my core. “Aemond,” I mewl as my toes curl while I sink down on him. “Let me see you.” I plead as my fingers slide along his eyepatch. I start to rock my hips and he groans nodding his head. 

“If you wish.” he looks up to me slightly worried. I slip off his eyepatch and clench around him at the sight. 

“Gods you’re so handsome.” I sigh before attaching my lips to his. I slowly start to bounce against him and he whines into my mouth. His hands slide from my hips up to my breasts as he leans back and watches me. He pinches my nipples and I cry out pushing myself forward on his chest. I roll my hips and his hands fly to my waist. I continue to hump against him while resting my head on his shoulder. “Aem, I’m gunna,” my voice is cut off by a gasp as he starts to swirl around my bud. 

“I know, I can feel it.” he purrs as he jerks his hips up. His arm wraps around my waist holding my still as he hammers up into me while still circling my bud

“Yes, like that.” I sob pulsing around him. “Aem,” I dig my nails into his shoulder as he keeps up his pace. He slows our movements down, swallowing my sounds as I tremble around him. He flips us staying inside and whimpers spill from my lips as he rolls his hips into mine slowly. I lock my ankles around his back holding him against me as he pushes into me roughly. 

“You’re perfect.” he grabs my wrists and holds them above my head with one of his hands. His other hand is still buried between us allowing his fingers to swirl against my sensitive bud. I arch up into him as I come undone again. He stills inside of me before filling me with his warmth while I cling to him. He slides out and pulls me against his chest as we try to calm our breathing. 

“I want to do that again.” I sigh resting my head on his chest. 

“You’re insatiable.” he chuckles, kissing the top of my head.

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masterlist 🔌 

idgaf i’m making another part bc i’m in love with my little almond joy 

book club honorary tags: @anukulee @aeryqueen

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme @multilover19 @alexxavicry @cedstars @fuckalrighty

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5.4k words

warnings: explicit language, a bit of violence (kinda?) (only mentioned and barely even described), some angst

summary: you don’t know why you avoid telling everyone that you and steve are “broken up,”  but you do. and you don’t realize how much of a bad idea that is until way too late

CHAPTER FIFTEEN | ❝𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕❞

Fall Semester 2016

“Who’s the guy again?” 

“I met him at the library. He asked to borrow my laptop charger and then when he was handing it back he asked for my number, and he texted asking to hang out,” You quickly explained as you slipped on your jacket and then turned to look at Eddie, who was sitting at your desk.

You weren’t particularly excited about the date, but you were excited to do something that you hadn’t done in a long time, and the smallest part of you could admit that you were doing this to try and be completely over Eddie. Your feelings being pushed and buried away were one thing, but if you were actually able to date someone else that had to mean that there definitely wasn’t anything else there. At least, that was what your mind told you, and it sounded somewhat logical.  

“If it sucks and you wanna get out of it, just call me,” Eddie told you.

“Robin already has that job,” You said. “We have a code word and everything.” 

He laughed a little. “What’s the code word?” 

“Dolphin.”

“That’s very random.” 

“Yes, and that makes it a more believable code word.” 

“Okay, makes sense,” He nodded. “Anyway, if she somehow ends up not answering, I will.” 

You doubted that would happen— you hadn’t known Robin for that long, but you already knew that she was very reliable. Still, though, you nodded at Eddie’s words because you liked how much he cared. It didn’t necessarily surprise you, but it still warmed your heart all the same. “Okay.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

It was the book that was making you cry right then. Nothing else. 

And maybe that wasn’t entirely true, but it felt like the easiest explanation. 

You reread the last page a few more times before finally closing the book and setting it on your desk. It was the same book that you’d been reading in Mexico with Steve a few days ago. 

He was right about the ending— the son died, and it happened right after he and the dad finally got in a good place. Of course, he’d been right.

A part of you wanted to text him and tell him that, but you didn’t. Instead, you kept silently crying— trying to remember the last time a book made you this emotional, but deep down knowing that it really wasn’t just the book. 

You didn’t get the chance to force yourself to face the exact reasoning behind your tears before there was a knock on your slightly cracked open door and Robin was walking in a second later. 

“Hey, I have two things I need to tell you. One is a question from Talia, who is too lazy to get out of bed right now, and the other is very fun news,” She stopped when she noticed you crying. “Woah, shit, you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m fine. I just finished reading this book and the ending was pretty sad,” You answered, haphazardly pushing your tears away with the sleeves of the sweater you were wearing. “What’s up, though?”

“Is Steve coming to game night on Monday? Talia wants to decide on teams now because she doesn’t want to get stuck with Eddie again.”

“Oh, um, me and him broke up…” The words felt so weird coming from your lips and you suddenly wondered if it had been stupid to not tell her and everyone else sooner. Instead, over the last few days, you simply didn’t talk about him because the timing never felt right enough to say what you should’ve said.

“Wait, what?” The confused look on Robin's face was easy to read. “Is that why you’re actually crying right now?”

You quickly shook your head. “No, no, it was just about the book. The Steve thing doesn’t even matter to me.”

“So, what happened? And when? Was it the trip? Did he hurt you? Do I need to kill him?”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at how fast she was talking as she sat down at the foot of your bed. You turned to face her. “No, you don’t need to kill him, and yes, it happened right when we got back. We just realized that we want different things.” You shrugged halfheartedly. “Sorry, it took me so long to tell you; I know it’s only been a few days, but still. I just didn’t really wanna think about it, I guess.”

“It’s fine, that makes sense,” She assured you. “I know you and him weren’t dating for long but you two were really cute together.”

Hearing her say that, pulled at something in you for a second, but then you remembered that that just meant that you and Steve had been really good actors, pretenders, liars.

“Oh, what was the other thing you wanted to tell me?” You asked, shifting the subject. “You said fun news?”

Robin nodded. “Oh, yeah, I just found out about this party tonight at this girl’s lake house that’s an hour away. You wanna come?”

“I’m not really in a party mood,” You answered after the briefest moment of hesitation. It probably would’ve been good to get out of the apartment and actually do something that didn’t involve lounging on the couch in the living room, like you’d been doing since you got back from Mexico, but you couldn’t imagine leaving the confines of your room right then. “Sorry.”

“No, that’s understandable,” Robin told you. “I know you said that you’re fine about the breakup, but is there anything you want right now? We can watch a shitty movie, and Vickie will probably be okay with you having the last of her mint chocolate chip ice cream.”

You shook your head at her suggestions. “No, I’m okay, honestly. But, thanks, though.”

She smiled at you. “Of course, no problem. What are friends for if not someone to do cliche breakup stuff with? We could also burn any pictures you have of Steve, or throw eggs at his car, or key it?”

You laughed at that. “Great ideas, but hard no to all of them.”

“Okay, well, once you get to the anger stage of your grief, I’ll happily revisit any of those ideas with you.”

“There are no stages and there is no grief,” You told her as she got up from your bed. “I’m completely okay.”

“You’re voluntarily staying in on a Saturday night. I don’t know if I would call that “completely okay.””

“This is very normal behavior for me.”

She considered your words for a second. “Okay, yeah, maybe that’s true.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It was the first time that the silence within the apartment felt okay. It actually wasn’t completely silent, you were watching a movie on the couch, but you were alone and felt entirely fine with that. 

You could feel yourself slowly falling asleep— head against one of the throw pillows and blanket pulled over you and it didn’t even really matter to you that it wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet— when there was a knock on the door. 

Weirdly enough, your immediate thought was that it was Steve, mainly because you knew that everyone else who could’ve been at the door right then was at a party an hour away.  

Instead, though, when you opened the door with your blanket still wrapped around you, it was Eddie standing there.

“Hey, I assumed you went with everyone to that lake house thing,” You said, pushing the door open further to let him in. 

“Robin mentioned it to me, but I had already planned on meeting up with a couple people from one of my classes at some bar,” He responded and you nodded as you closed the door behind him. 

You looked at him for a second. There was something weird about his demeanor right then. It seemed like something was wrong, and that quickly worried you because you couldn’t easily tell what that something was.

“Is everything okay?”

He shook his head, and for a few moments that was the only response you got, but then he was saying, “Not really.” 

“You’re being so–” You stopped mid-sentence when you finally noticed his right hand, how red and bruised it was. “Oh, shit, what the hell happened to your hand?”

“It looks worse than it feels,” He said, giving you a small smile. “Okay, actually, it feels pretty bad too.”

You dropped your blanket on the couch and then went over to the kitchen, grabbing one of the few small hand towels that sat next to the stove and then pulling some ice out of the freezer. 

“Come here,” You told him as you put the ice in the towel and made some sort of makeshift ice pack. Eddie joined you in the kitchen and you grabbed his bruised hand, softly placing the towel on top of it. You looked up at him. “What happened?”

He was quiet for way too long; things became almost unbearably quiet. You lightly nudged him with your foot. “Eddie.” 

He broke your gaze, looking down instead. “Fuck, it really sucks that I have to tell you this. I’m sorry.”

Hearing him say that only confused you further. “Tell me what?”

“I also saw Steve at the bar I was at…” Eddie started and then trailed off for a second. The look on his face made it seem as if the next thing he was about to say to you was going to be the most devastating thing ever. “And he was making out with some girl.”

“Oh,” Was all you said at first because you didn’t really understand why Eddie was telling you that right then and why he made it sound like the biggest deal in the world. And then, after the briefest of seconds, you were quickly realizing. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie told you, thinking that your “oh” was a sad one. “I wish I did a lot more than just punch him, but the security at that place is actually good so they immediately threw me out.”

Given what you two were currently doing in your kitchen, you should’ve expected Eddie to say that, but it still surprised you so much that you could feel your eyes widen. “What? You punched him?”

“Of course I did,” Eddie said, like it had been an obvious choice. “I saw him cheating on you.”

You dropped your hands from his and immediately covered your face. “Oh my god. I can’t believe you did that.”

“Please don’t try to defend him right now. I know you really like him, probably even love him, but what he did is so fucked up.”

You were shaking your head and kept your hands covering your face as you said, “He didn’t cheat on me.” 

“I’m sorry,” You heard Eddie say. “But, I promise you I know what I saw. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I wasn’t a thousand percent sure. I also wouldn’t have punched him if I wasn’t sure.”

You could’ve simply told him that you and Steve were broken up just like you told Robin earlier, but you suddenly felt tired of lying, and for once, telling the truth genuinely felt easier. 

You dropped your hands from your face and looked at Eddie. “He didn’t cheat on me because we're not together. We were never really together.” 

It surprisingly felt like so much of a relief to say it out loud, to finally be honest, so you kept going. “It was all fake; the entire relationship. And I’m so sorry for lying to you and to everyone. This entire thing ended up being so stupid and the worst idea ever. But, I don’t know, at first I thought it could be kinda good. And Steve thought so too; he was the one to suggest it actually, and he also had his own reasons for wanting to do this fake dating thing. I figured this could be the best way to do something about my feelings for you without outwardly admitting how I felt and potentially fucking up our friendship in the process, and I wouldn’t have to live in the unknown anymore like I’ve been since freshman year. And just for a second it seemed like it actually was working, and maybe you did feel something back. But then we had that conversation on your fire escape and I knew then that you’d never see me as anything more than as your best friend. It kinda hurt finally realizing that, but eventually it felt okay, though.” 

You let out a breath and inwardly felt as if the biggest weight had just been lifted off of your shoulders.

“You liked me?” That wasn’t exactly what you expected to hear Eddie say in response to your word vomit, but it made sense; it was the big “why” behind everything you did for the last month.  

“Yeah, sorry, I guess I kinda glossed over that part in my super long-winded explanation,” You said, a sudden shyness hit you and you looked away from him. “I did. I was stupidly in love for a really long time. I finally got over it after we had that conversation, though. But, I still had to fulfill my side of the deal I had with Steve, so I did that in Mexico and when we came back, that was it. Life was back to normal. But I was a fucking idiot and didn’t tell you that me and him were “broken up,” so here we are now.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said, a soft look on his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t know how you felt. I’m sorry I couldn’t see it.”

“No, please don’t be sorry. This is all on me. I did all of this complicated shit instead of simply talking to you about everything,” You said, leaning back against the counter. “Because you were so right that day, we are just meant to be best friends. That's the way that we’re supposed to be in each other’s lives. I get that now.”  

He got quiet again, probably still processing everything that you had just told him, which you had to admit was a lot. 

“Are we okay?” You asked when the silence started becoming too much to bear. “Did this fuck everything up like I thought it would?” 

Eddie shook his head at your questions. “Of course not. You could never fuck things up between us, and I feel really bad that you ever thought that you could, and I also wish that I had felt the same way about you… I do love you. It’s just…”

The smallest part of you expected to feel hurt finally hearing the rejection, but surprisingly you didn’t. “Just not in that way. I know. It’s okay. Please don’t feel bad. I know that we shouldn’t be together. I’ve accepted that,” You told him. “And I really wanna say that we should just forget this entire conversation ever happened because it would make things a lot easier and I’d also feel a lot less embarrassed if we did, but I don’t think we should do that. This may sound weird, but it actually feels kind of good having the truth out in the open.”

“Okay,” He said with a nod.

You looked back down at his hand and the towel covering it. 

“How’s it feeling?” You asked, slightly shifting the subject. 

“Better, kinda. The ice feels good,” He answered and then let out something that sounded like a breath of a laugh and a scoff in disbelief as he shook his head. “Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I punched him.”

“Me neither. But thank you for defending my honor, I guess?”

He smiled at you; a genuine smile that let you know that things were actually okay between you two. “Anytime.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“So, everything with Steve was fake,” Eddie said when you two were settled on the couch, the movie you had put on earlier still playing. His words sounded slightly like a question, but also like he was still just trying to make sense of everything that you had previously told him.

“Yes, and let’s wait at least a month before we start joking about this. I need to let my poor bruised ego heal first,” You responded, dramatically pressing your hands to your heart, a small smile on your face. 

Eddie laughed a bit. “Deal.” 

And you expected that to be that. Everything was out in the open and everything was fine. You still had to tell everyone else the truth, but you knew that would end up being okay too. And once you did tell everyone, everything could all be put in the past and you could finally move on from it. There wouldn’t be anything lingering or festering; no “what ifs” or whatever else. 

“Can I ask something?” Eddie asked, voice getting soft again, and you nodded in response, unsure where he was going to go with his question. “Was it hard keeping how you felt a secret? I’m trying to think about if the roles were reversed, and I don’t think I would’ve been able to keep it from you.” 

“Honestly, sometimes it was hard, but also not really. And I know that’s kind of a contradictory answer, but it’s true,” You answered, somehow finding it so easy to be honest now. “For the most part, my feelings were shoved to the side and I pretended that they weren’t there. Like, when you were dating Chrissy, because I obviously didn’t wanna get between what you two had, and when you two broke up, because I knew that you weren’t ready for anything new. They still lingered deep down, though. And it was always random moments when I would get reminded that they were still there. But, keeping our friendship intact always felt more important than admitting anything because I love our friendship.”

He nodded understandingly. “I love it too.”

“Okay, this is kind of random, but do you remember that frat party we went to freshman year right before winter break?” You asked, and before he could say anything in response, you continued, forcing yourself to say what you had never said out loud before. “We were both stupidly drunk, and at one point— I think it was right before we were about to leave— you got, like, pushed into me by some random person, and we were standing really close, and then we, uh, kissed.”

The surprised look on his face was entirely expected. “I vaguely remember the party. But, I don’t remember the kiss, though. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. When we talked about the party the day after, you basically said that it was all kind of a blur to you, so that’s what I figured. I wasn't entirely sure if you didn’t remember it, so a part of me had wanted to ask back then, but in that moment I thought it was just easier to let it go.” 

It was almost startling how honest you were being with him right then— saying things that you didn’t think you’d ever admit out loud— and how perfectly okay it all felt. And weirdly enough, this also felt like the most honest you’d ever been with yourself too. 

“Thinking about it now,” You continued. “That probably should’ve been the moment that I let myself get over you. Because I could’ve told you about the kiss right then and there, but I didn’t want whatever your response would be— whether it be a rejection or whatever else— to change anything between us. And it was the same thing when we came back from break, and I was so close to admitting everything to you, but you told me that you and Chrissy were together first. I probably should’ve still told you then. And maybe I never did because deep down I always knew that nothing should change between us. I don’t know… A part of me is still trying to make it all make sense. But then, at the same time, I've been trying to avoid it all and not think about it.” You sighed. “The last couple of weeks have been pretty weird and confusing.”

“Maybe it’s not supposed to easily make sense, or make sense at all. And I know that’s probably a shit response, but…” Eddie trailed off and then shrugged after a moment. 

“No, I get what you mean,” You said, nodding at his words, and then you thought about something. “Honestly, the only thing that has ever really made sense with us is this. Watching movies together, listening to music, talking about unserious things, and also talking about the most serious things ever; stuff I never thought to tell anyone else.” You smiled at him. “Oh, and getting stuck in elevators together too.” 

He smiled back at you before saying, “The elevator thing sadly only happened once.” 

“We can try to recreate it one day.”

“Great idea,” Eddie responded with a nod. “The elevator in that building is still probably shitty.” 

“So true. And if not, we can just start jumping in it and that’ll probably do the job.”

“Or it will kill us.”   

You couldn’t help but laugh at that and Eddie laughed too and then winced as he readjusted the towel on his hand. 

That was what made you finally think about Steve. Was he even okay? 

And then you immediately felt like shit for not considering that question sooner. 

You abruptly got up from the couch and headed into your room before Eddie could question you. You grabbed the Advil bottle from your bathroom and then tossed it over to him when you walked back out into the living room. 

“For the pain. Take two of these and try to go to sleep. You can even take my bed if you wanna,” You told him and then headed to the fridge to grab a bag of frozen vegetables from the freezer. “I'm gonna go check on Steve. And yes, I’m stealing your van.”

Eddie pulled his keys out of his jacket pocket and handed them over to you. There was an amused look on his face. “When’s the last time you drove?”

“Don’t question my driving skills right now, Munson,” You said as you slipped the keys into the pocket of the sweatpants you were wearing and then grabbed the first zip-up hoodie you saw hanging on one of the hooks by the door. “Goodnight.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It wasn’t until you were standing outside the door of Steve’s apartment that you realized that maybe he wasn’t even here. He’d been on a date, or at least, with someone when Eddie saw him, so there was a chance that he was still with her. 

Still, though, you knocked. And, surprisingly enough, he answered.

His face— more specifically, his left eye— looked bad; very bruised, and already settled into the dark red and purplish color that it would probably be for the next few days. 

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry,” You said, immediately handing over the frozen peas you had in your hand; they obviously weren’t as cold as they were before the twenty-minute drive to get here, but they still felt good enough. “All of this is my fault. It completely slipped my mind to tell Eddie that we “broke up.” I didn’t tell anyone, actually, except for Robin, but that was just today. I’m really sorry. The last few days have been weird.”

Steve gave you a small smile that felt entirely undeserved and he pushed the door open further so that you could walk into his apartment. “It’s okay.” 

You shook your head. “It’s really not. You have a black eye because of me being an idiot.”

“This would be the part where I’d say that you should see the other guy to prove that this isn’t as bad as it looks, but you’ve already seen him, so that doesn’t really work in this situation,” Steve told you jokingly and you shook your head, giving him a small smile back. You still felt like shit, but at least he didn’t seem to hate you for causing all of this. “How did you get here?” 

“I drove Eddie’s van. He came to my place after it happened,” You said and Steve nodded understandingly. “You’re right, though. His hand looks worse than your eye.” You weren’t entirely sure if that was even true— in all honesty, their injuries probably looked about the same on the bad scale— but it felt like the right thing to say at this moment. “I told him everything, by the way. About our whole relationship being fake and me doing it because I had feelings for him.”

Steve looked as if he didn’t expect to hear you say that. “How did that go?”

“Surprisingly good,” You answered honestly. He gave you an almost congratulatory-looking smile in response and you quickly shook your head. “No, not good in that way. He doesn’t feel that way about me. And I knew that. There was this conversation that I had with him before all of this that kind of solidified that for me. It wasn’t some huge moment where he outwardly said that he didn’t like me, but it gave me the push I needed to finally accept that me and him are only meant to be friends. I don’t even feel any other way about him now.” You let out a sigh before letting out a different part of the truth. “I kinda lied to you in Mexico and the days leading up to it. I knew the truth about everything then, but I felt too embarrassed to tell you and I also just really didn’t want to think about it.”

“Shit, I’m sorry this didn’t work for you,” He sounded so genuine about it and gave you a sad look that reminded you of exactly what you didn’t want to happen. 

You shook your head. “Don’t do that. Please don’t feel sorry for me.” 

“I was the one that kept telling you from the beginning that this was gonna work so now I feel kinda bad that it didn’t.” 

“Okay, yeah, that’s true but it doesn’t matter now,” You told him. “And just because this didn’t work for me doesn’t mean that I regret it— I honestly don’t regret it. It was dumb and a waste of time for me, but still, I don’t really regret it. Also, you got what you wanted out of this, right?”

Steve nodded after a second. “Yeah, I actually talked to my mom yesterday and she asked about you and I told her that we broke up.”

“Did you make me a cheater?” 

“Yeah, and I think she actually feels bad. But, we’ll see in a week or two if she brings up the Hamptons,” He answered. “I kind of doubt that she will, though. I tried to seem really upset about everything.” 

“I wish I could’ve been there for that phone call. I would’ve loved to see your acting skills.”

He smiled at your joking words. “They were fantastic.”

“Good,” You responded. “So, no finding your future wife this summer?” 

“Hopefully not.”  

“Congratulations,” You told him. “And you’re welcome for me being the greatest girlfriend during the Mexico trip.”

“I don’t know if I should thank you since I do have a black eye now because of you.”

You could tell he was joking, but you still decided to play into it. “Wow, so, you are mad at me for that!”

He playfully rolled his eyes at you. “I was kidding.”

“It’s okay to be mad at me. It would be deserved, honestly. And I’d completely understand if you hate me now. You should hate me.”

He gave you a serious look, but there was still the smallest smile on his face. “Stop.” 

You held up your hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I did just give you a bag of sort of frozen peas to help with your eye, so I feel like you can’t be that mad at me, anyway.” 

“And I will cherish this bag of peas for the rest of my life,” He told you as he placed them over his bruised eye and you could only laugh at that. 

A comfortable silence lingered for a second, and it was what let you know that this should probably be it. It had barely been ten minutes, but you’d done everything that you felt as if you needed to do— you checked on him, made sure he was okay, and told him the truth— there was nothing else to do. 

But, instead of saying something equivalent to the simple “Goodbye” that should’ve left your lips right then, you said, “Can I stay for a bit?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Steve answered with a nod.

“You got throw pillows,” You pointed out as you sat on his couch. You grabbed one of the two gray pillows and placed it in your lap. 

“Yeah, somebody once told me that my couch looked sad and lonely,” He said and that made you smile.

“Still no curtains, though,” You responded, gesturing to the windows.

“One day I’ll get around to it.”

You gave him a quick nod. “Got it.” 

Steve put on a show that you both had seen before and things were quiet for a bit as you rewatched the familiar episode. 

“Oh, you were sadly right, by the way,” You abruptly said, turning to look at him. “I finished the book and the son did die.”

“Oh, yeah, I know. When we got back I wanted to find out what happened, so I finished reading it.”

Hearing that surprised you, and it also made you inwardly smile. “Really?”

“Mhm,” Steve nodded and then gave you a certain look. “You cried at the end, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. I really didn’t think that he would die,” You answered. “And shut up, don’t judge me about it.” 

“I promise I wasn’t gonna.”

“I don’t know if I believe you.” 

“Scouts honor.”

“And now I’m supposed to believe you were a boy scout?” You joked. “You don’t seem outdoorsy enough for that.”

“Ouch, I feel offended.”

You laughed as you turned your attention back to the TV. You noticed that the show playing was the same one that you and him had been watching before the power outage; a night that felt like forever ago. 

This moment felt like the exact opposite of that one. You remembered how weird things initially felt then between you two, or maybe that awkwardness had been entirely in your head. Either way, the main thing that was different here was that in that previous moment, you’d been stuck with him because of the storm and power outage, and in this moment, you weren’t stuck.  

It was then that you were hit with the thought of, What the hell were you doing here right now?

You two weren’t even really friends, you remembered. You reminded yourself of what Steve said that night a few days ago and what you two both agreed on from the beginning— going your separate ways once all of this was done and over. 

Everything that had happened this past month was fake. And even though you’d been able to recognize that, you had still let a part of you miss it; let yourself miss something that you knew you’d never be able to get back. For the past few days, you thought it was okay to let the smallest part of you feel that way— miss the faking and the pretending and the brief friendship that developed because of all of that. But maybe it wasn’t okay. Maybe it was only making things worse and more complicated. 

“Actually, I should go,” You abruptly stood up from the couch, placing the pillow back in the spot you picked it up from. You turned to look at Steve and forced a small smile that you hoped didn’t look that way. “This isn’t following the ‘going our separate ways’  rule.” 

He gave you a confused look for a second, and then he was nodding in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

“I know I was kinda joking about it before, but I really am sorry about all of this,” You said as you walked over to his door, turning to look at him before pulling it open. 

He shook his head. “Don’t be.” 

You decided against saying anything else right then and instead smiled at him one final time before forcing yourself to leave.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual , @munsonburn3r , @negomi123 , @khena , @facexthexsunshine , @seatbacksandtraytables , @suckerfordylansstuff

[hanjist]

sister’s best friend.

content - brother!hyunjin. sister!yeji. fem best friend!reader. pure filthy smut.

warnings - threesome. wxw action. dom!hyunjin. dom!yeji. sub!reader. yeji makes fun of reader and embarrasses her in the first half. pervert!hyunjin. degrading. voyeurism. cumplay kinda. humiliation. spit play. ‘pretty girl’ ‘baby’ ‘cum dumpster’ used. multiple orgasms.

word count - 1983.

a/n - sorry i couldn’t help myself. idfw actual familial incest, so hyun n yeji are step siblings but hyunjin n yeji don’t interact with each other, just you coz you’re the main star obvi. ok so seems like when i write about yeji all of a sudden i get good at writing. not proof read.

“you two should make out.”

hyunjin blurts as he peeks behind the wall of yeji’s bedroom. he quickly hides away as yeji throws one of her stuffed animals at him.

“go away, you perv!”

you giggle away your embarrassment, trying to distract yeji from the fact you’re turning red.

“sorry y/n, my stupid and annoying step-brother. always getting in my business!”

as hyunjin gives another peek into yeji’s room, she spots him and flips him off. he rolls his eyes before walking away into his own room, slamming the door.

“just forget he said that. he’s just being a creep, per usual.”

you take several glances at hyunjin’s door across the hall from your spot on the bed as yeji speaks. she notices your eyes trailing from her to his door. how you’re starting to bite on your lip, to the point it might even bleed.

“y/n! don’t fucking tell me you’re into the idea!”

“w-what?! no! never! wha- how could you ever say that about me?!”

you cross your arms at her, cheeks turning an obvious shade of red. yeji laughs at you, her body slamming on to the pillows behind her.

“you are sick! are you into that shit? being a fucking pervert?”

yeji can’t stop laughing at you. it’s gone to a point where she’s become pale out of the amount of times she’s gasping for air from her laughter.

you turn your head from her, then your body as you sulk.

“stop making fun of me!”

“im sorry, im sorry! i’ll stop laughing…”

she wipes her tears as she takes a final sigh. her body relaxes between the pillows.

“oh man, you’re so disgusting.”

“enough!”

“okay, i’m sorry!”

there’s a silence between you two before you decide to speak up again.

“…it’s not a bad idea though.”

yeji covers her mouth in an attempt to stop herself from even the slightest giggle. then she bites her tongue before she speaks.

“it isn’t.”

she takes another breath.

“we should make hyunjin watch too. get his perverted ass to enjoy the show.”

“woah- what?!”

yeji gives a devious smirk at you as she gets up to lean against her hallway door.

“hyunjin! can you check on something for us?”

he opens his door immediately to the request.

“sure, what’s up?”

had he not heard what you guys were talking about before? there’s no way he didn’t hear, yeji was practically screaming everything out loud. was he playing dumb?

he leans against the door frame. yeji sits herself back onto her bed, right next to you. the space being limited between you.

“how’s my form?”

she grabs at your chin to turn your head away from hyunjin and face her. she pulls you closer to her face. the proximity of your lips, almost touching. your eyes quickly glance at hyunjin from the side, you see him licking his own lips. then it hits you.

you feel yeji’s lips on yours. her gloss smothering all over the bottom of your lip. her tongue darting into your mouth. the pressure of her fingers against your chin. you close your eyes at the feeling. the way yeji’s doing all of the work for you makes you feel relaxed, practically submitting to her.

“fuck… yeah, just like that.”

you can hear hyunjin from the side, groaning as he watches the both of you. you slide your hands on yeji’s waist, pulling her body closer to yours. she ends up crawling on your lap, eliminating the distance between you both.

yeji darts her tongue further into your mouth, making you moan. hyunjin’s own moan follows after he watches that certain action. yeji’s mouth detaches from yours, a line of saliva connecting the both of you. she gives hyunjin a look from the side.

“so? how was it?”

“fucking shit, ten outta ten. let me in on this.”

he approaches you, shoving yeji to the side. hyunjin wastes no time and quickly connects his lips onto yours. his plump lips fitting perfectly on yours, the wetness of the mix of all three of your salivas creating squelching noises as his mouth devours you. he softly bites on your bottom lip, leaving you into a whining mess. his fingers trail from your cheeks, to your jaw, down your neck, and finally toys at the straps of your flimsy tank top. he loops the straps on his fingers and pulls your top up, taking it off of you in one swift motion. your lips disconnect for a brief moment, then he’s back onto you like a magnet.

everything is happening so fast, it’s becoming blurry to you.

it was like the next time you opened your eyes, you were on all fours.

because you were.

your back arches as you’re hit with reality, more like pleased into reality. yeji grazes a bright pink dildo against your folds, while hyunjin lays back against the headboard of yeji’s bed, using his thumb to caress your lip as he takes his cock out of his pants with his freehand. his tip brushes your bottom lip before he uses his hand to pull your chin down, leaving your mouth wide open to take in at least the rest of his tip.

“can you take more baby?”

you nod as you wrap your mouth around him. he moves the few strands of hair in front of your face behind your ear, then slowly pushing down on your head against his shaft. you let out a gasp as yeji syncs up the dildo with hyunjin’s movements, pushing it in your cunt as your mouth goes down on his dick.

“hyunjin, the toy slides so easily in her. fuck…”

yeji licks her lips at the site of your cunt engulfing the toy whole. a particularly loud moan comes out of your mouth and vibrates against hyunjin’s dick. it sends him into a shock, moaning at the feeling.

it doesnt take long before hyunjin cums. as he releases inside your mouth, he pulls it out with a certain pop sound as your lips detach from his tip. as you swallow his load, his last bits of his cum finish by spurting onto your cheeks and chin. just like paint on a canvas. hyunjin grabs your cheeks harshly, pulling your head to turn and look back at yeji, who admires the splotches of hyunjin’s seed on your face. the distance between you shrinks as she’s now face to face with you. she sticks her tongue out, then presses it against your cheek, licking a long stripe to collect hyunjin’s seed in her mouth. then she attaches her lips back onto yours, a mixture of saliva and semen entering your mouth.

“don’t you think we taste so good, y/n?”

you eagerly nod, gulping down the mix of the siblings bodily secretions.

“wow, you’re disgusting.”

yeji tsks at you. the tone in her voice making you feel flustered, but also so turned on.

“who do you want more? me or hyunjin?”

you’re brain goes blank. you try to speak but no words come out of your mouth.

“the poor baby can’t speak, hm? that’s enough of an answer for us. looks like you’ll get us both, is that what you want?”

“y-yes! b-both! please!”

you whine at the both of them, your head turning to look at one then the other.

“shit… okay baby. lay on your back for us.”

hyunjin’s voice mellow but demanding. you react immediately, getting on your back against yeji’s bed. you watch as hyunjin pulls the restraining material of his pants all the way down to his ankles, while yeji unbuttons her skirt and pulls her panties down only to toss it elsewhere in her room.

the two quickly get into their positions on your body, yeji hovering above your face and hyunjin lined up at your core. the heat of their bodies at your most sacred parts only makes you want them more. hyunjin slowly sinks into your cunt, the tip only making it in before you whine in pleasure. then being cut by yeji slamming down onto your face, mouth directly at her own sopping core and clit to your nose. hyunjin keeps pushing himself in further, while the moans he gets out of you travel to yeji, making her whine at the feeling of your mouths vibrations. her fingers latch onto her headboard, grip tightening for maintaining her balance as she starts to ride your face. on the other hand, hyunjin bottoms out in your cunt, balls deep. the clench your cunt makes around his cock is already enough of a sign that he should start moving. the rhythm of hyunjin’s thrusts in your pussy make you rock up and down, your mouth messily sucking on yeji’s cunt. every time hyunjin thrusts, your nose keeps bumping harder onto yeji’s clit, the pressure building up.

the sensations building up in your stomach felt like it was too much to handle. your toes start to curl. hyunjin notices, making him plow harder into your core. it’s like you’re suffering when the rough speed intensifies. you moan endlessly into yeji’s cunt, making her squirt all over your face. you end up creaming around hyunjin’s dick after yeji’s release.

“creaming all over my cock, hm? take my seed, like a cum dumpster.”

hyunjin gives one last thrust before you feel his warm seed filling you up. as he pulls out, he watches the mixture of your cum drip down your folds.

“shit… look at her mess.”

hyunjin whimpers at the sight of his doings. yeji trembles as she gets off your face. she crawls over to hyunjin’s spot.

“move!”

she pushes him away from his spot on her bed, taking his place. she slowly straddles you, her legs in between yours. you already know what she’s about it to do.

yeji starts rubbing her wet pussy all over your creamed cunt. you follow her rhythm, rolling your hips against her. the mixtures of all three of your essences mix between your bodies. as your clit rubs against hers, you feel another coil in your stomach. it doesn’t take you long to release again, more cum dripping out of your cunt. it doesn’t stop yeji though, rubbing her folds against yours, spreading your cum all over your cunt.

“you love being messy, hm pretty girl?”

you nod your head aggressively, in a way that could mess up your brain more than it already is.

hyunjin watches, a death grip around his own cock, thrusting into his hand as he watches you grind against his dirty step-sister.

“get off, it’s my turn again.”

hyunjin gives yeji her payback, pushing her away from your cunt just as he sees she’s about to release all over you.

“hey! i was so close!”

hyunjin rolls his eyes at yeji’s remark. he grabs you by your ankles, dragging your body to turn towards the end of the bed, legs dangling off the edge. he falls onto his knees, right in front of your cunt. he starts kissing your inner thighs softly. it felt so calming. almost too peaceful.

he’s brisk to reach back onto your messy pussy, leaving light kisses on it. everywhere from your folds, to your hole, and your clit. reserving the most aggressive kisses to your clit, sucking the soul out of it.

he prods his tongue inside your hole, collecting the essence and cream dripping onto the sheets.

yeji on your side has began to suck on your tits. her tongue swirling all over your areola, sucking on your nipples, and leaving dark hickeys all over your chest.

it doesn’t take long for the both of their lips on your body to make you release for the nth time.

you feel weak.

messy.

dirty.

still aroused.

yeji leaves a peck on your lips before she gets up from her bed.

“let’s do this again next time you come over.”

[ipegchangbin]

— winner’s deal

sub!jeno x dom!reader x sub!mark | 7.9k words | READ ON AO3

One game, one house. A bet turns into something more when team leader Mark plans to make your boyfriend Jeno all jealous.

❥  fem!reader (she/her pronouns, afab). smut. porn with some plot. ❥ threesome. college/university!au, student!reader & athletes!markjen. member x reader, member x member. open relationship themes. unprotected sex, mouthplay, edging & overstimulation, one light cock slap, double penetration, they’re all messy

📝 happy birthday to the one and only @meivida!!! my fellow dreamzen, the jeno to my chenle, my bff 4life! also surprise i write for nct drm too now. otherwise, enjoy !!

18+ only. minors do not interact.

Somehow, Mark’s not that nervous as he faces Jeno after the game.

Having swept the floor earlier with an insane hockey match, hockey team leader Mark and varsity captain Jeno eye each other down in the locker rooms with nothing but fiery gazes, squinted eyes, and clenched teeth.

You were going to meet them after the game for some “unknown reason.” But, with the way they looked at each other, they just knew.

“Dumb play on the floor earlier, Jeno.” Mark snickered at his teammate, referring to a foul move he got called out for. It cost their team a single point, but Jeno didn’t care about that.

“You didn’t bother to block the guy, so how else was I supposed to pass the disk?”

Mark decides to stay silent. They both know that they aren’t actually frustrated at their game, no, they’re waiting for the minutes to tick down along with the sound of your footsteps by the locker room’s doors.

Jeno breaks the conversational floor worse than he did on the court. “Anyway, why are you meeting up with my girlfriend?”

“Why don’t you ask her?” The leader popped a water bottle open. “You’re her boyfriend.”

“Shouldn’t you know why if she’s asking you?” Jeno had a point, but Mark snickered.

“Beats me.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know any better.”

“Because I don’t!”

Refusing to explode any further, Jeno sighs loudly with a big huff off his chest. “Look, if this is about that one move, I’m sorry.”

Mark simply nods, eyes away from Jeno’s face.

“And I just want to know what my girlfriend has to do with you.”

Even though Mark knows the answer, and Jeno has a hunch, they both shut their lips and wordlessly look at each other.

The truth is, Mark had a bet with Jaemin — if he could somehow make Jeno jealous, then a sum of money would be on the line. It’s been a running joke around the team that Jeno gets sulky over simple things, even if he tries to hide it. It’s something small and endearing, but even Mark thought it would be a step too far if he made him really envious of his girlfriend; Jaemin didn’t care, he just wanted money. It frustrated Mark even to be playing these types of bets, but he couldn’t say no, even as the leader.

Jeno already had that sneaking suspicion that he was being played with, but never in his life would he believe that you — his girlfriend — would get involved like this. Rather than jealousy, he was frustrated at the thought that the boys were teasing him in this way. He tried not to let it get the best of him though, even if he was already getting fired up in the locker rooms.

They eye each other down and it’s the most they’ve stared in their lives.

The sound of sneakers walking into the room echoes through the rigid halls of the lockers. A voice can be heard saying “This is the boy’s room” before being cut off by an extra loud turn of the shoe.

Mark suddenly fidgets in his place, all signs of cockiness dissipating as your familiarly strict voice vibrates through the room.

“Where’s Mark?” You ask yourself. With a resting tone like that, you could pass off as the team manager if you weren’t so focused on your other endeavors.

You spot team leader Mark before your boyfriend, igniting a little spark of envy within Jeno.

“Mark! Why’d you make me rush here so suddenly?” It sounds like you were scolding him with your furrowed eyebrows but you’re not.

“Uh, just needed to ask a simple question.”

“And what would that be?”

Jeno looks back and forth between you and Mark with a cloud of confusion over his head.

First off, he can’t believe that you’re involved in this. Second, you look way too hot when you look mad even when you aren’t. It’s not that you’re annoyed at him, maybe you are, but not to the degree that your voice suggests. Somehow, Jeno finds that assertive side of you so sexy that it’d be inappropriate to think about it right then and there.

Thirdly and finally, you’re completely ignoring the love of your life. Standing awkwardly beside Mark, Jeno simply stares at you and hopes you will stare back.

You don’t. Why’s that so attractive of you?

"How about you join dinner with us at my place?" Mark replies, a smug grin on his face, “Y’know, for beating those Stray-bitches from earlier." 

You blink. Jeno blinks back. It’s only then that you acknowledge your boyfriend. He didn’t even know that they were getting a celebratory dinner for winning the day’s game.

That’s when Jeno’s ears start to turn red with envy. “What do you mean, your place?”

He doesn’t realize he’s thinking aloud until your eyes widen and Mark responds with a fake laugh and a smug smile. “I mean, dude, you played well earlier, and what’s wrong with not bringing your girlfriend over?”

Acting all buddy-buddy, as if he didn’t just diss his play on the floor. But that’s not what gets Jeno’s blood boiling.

“Can’t believe I had to be the one to invite her over first instead of you.”

You seem a little less affected, more so confused.

Only a few things make sense to you at the moment. They won, sure. But if Jeno knew about the dinner, why couldn���t he invite you over? Then again, he doesn’t seem to know either, and Mark looks unusually cool to you right now, your eyes are flipping between the two men until your eyelids flutter for a second to refocus.

“I’m available later,” you say with your back straightened. “I’m going if Jeno’s going.”

With that, Jeno can’t say no. He’s in a trickier spot than you are, severely tethering between being unaware and painfully aware of what’s going on.

Mark then slams his arm over Jeno’s shoulder. “Guess you’re going then?”

But he’s bad at masking the nervousness in his eyes. He gulps and sweat trickles down his forehead even after the game’s been over for a while. His plan to make Jeno jealous all for what could probably be lunch money is backing him into a corner — and he mentally hates wearing the dunce hat.

Jeno nods his head with a squint.

“Alright! I’ll see you guys later.”

He ruffles Jeno's hair and leaves with a turn of the heel. The squeak of his rubber shoes echoes through the locker rooms. You turn to your disheveled puppy of a boyfriend, fixing the messy hair.

“You sure you wanna go?” Your question is met with a nod from him. He compliantly keeps his head down for you to scratch it slightly, leaving the boy with a flushed face and redder ears.

“If we get dinner at Mark’s, can we get dessert at mine after?” Jeno suggests.

“Sure thing,” you giggle. “How could I say no to a polite boy like you?”

If Jeno had a tail, he’d be wagging it now. Reassured, he simply takes your hand in his as you lead each other out of the lockers. Should Mark or Jaemin be there, they would’ve thought that they lost from the sight of the both of you.

Time rolls around until it’s night. The lights are on while the sun is out, the moon barely illuminating your steps alongside Jeno’s on the way to Mark’s place.

The streets are usually busier but you don’t mind the quieter walk when your boyfriend intertwines his fingers with yours. The sidewalks are skinnier but he uses that as an excuse to walk closer to you. He’s the unusual one now, becoming slightly clingier than he normally would.

You figure if it has anything to do with Mark’s antics.

“You still wanna go to his place? We can grab something else,” you suggest.

That’s where you’re wrong, though.

“No, let’s go,” Jeno says with a smile and a contrasting squeeze of your hand.

He wants to prove himself against Mark.

You’d think that he’s unintentionally losing, giving in to the envy and jealousy building up in his core — but that’s not what this is. He wants to show him that you’re his, and he’s yours. Given the attitude that the both of them were giving each other, he wanted to one-up his own leader. He can’t quite explain it himself.

You both make it to Mark's place though, but you don't recognize any of the cars around his apartment. Actually, there are no vehicles around Mark's spot at all. Not even Chenle's car is there, the signature pickup that took their friend group everywhere. It seems like both of you came early.

So, you ring on his doorbell. Jeno tests himself by letting your hand go.

No response. Ding-dong; no response again.

You do hear hurried footsteps though, but it takes long before anything happens. Antsy, Jeno fidgets as he stops himself from the instinct of holding your hand again. Minutes go by before the door finally answers: Mark looks disheveled and hurriedly dressed.

You’d be damned if you say he’s cute, so you digress, focusing on your boyfriend instead.

The two men high-five with a side hug — despite lingering hard feelings — and you enter the seemingly lifeless house.

“…Where’s the party?” You squeak.

Mark leans against the door frame with crossed arms. “You’re the first in here.”

On the table sits nothing but Mark's takeout and a couple of other snacks. The only fresh thing seems to be the chicken he ordered just an hour ago. Jeno raises an eyebrow at Mark.

“Oh, Y/N, can I tell you something before the others arrive?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Sure.”

“But Jeno can’t hear about it.”

What is it this time?

Mark isn't even sure of what he should say to you. Maybe he should flat-out admit that he's in a bet to make Jeno jealous.

Maybe he should admit a little secret he’s been keeping to himself for years — he finds you kind of cute.

It’s not something he holds as he would a crush, that would be wrong of him. He just always considered his best friend lucky for bagging someone as great as you. You’re someone he likes to look at and converse with — it’s nothing about that kind of attraction, at least he thinks. Mark isn’t here to homewreck, but he can’t help his brain when you’re in the picture.

He shouldn’t talk about that, though. Not when Jeno’s there, not when he’s supposed to be faking a party, not when he’s practically using you to win a bet against his friend.

He feels like a shitty person, but before the college-boy-antics-guilt settles in, you follow Mark behind the door of his kitchen.

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?”

Mark’s pupils dart around, trying to find anything but your face to focus on. “Well, uhm, actually…”

Meanwhile, Jeno has a hunch that the party’s not real when Renjun sends a picture to him. He’s with Jaemin and Chenle, all three looking at the camera with mischievous eyes.

All of his suspicions confirm themselves with question marks and indefinite periods while waiting for you with heated cheeks.

It’s not that he’s clingy — he doesn’t want to admit so — and it’s not that he’s jealous — he can’t admit that either. In all fairness, he just wants you to be safe; he trusts you enough to be in Mark’s presence, but alone with a secret he can’t know about? Why would you be hiding behind a door in Mark’s apartment?

The anxiety creeps under his skin, sending off various signals in his brain to check in on you and his friend.

He walks in on you urging the other to speak. “Come on, Mark, what is it that you wanted to say—”

“If you have anything to say to her, say it to my face too,” Jeno butts in.

Mark blinks. He’s sweating.

He doesn’t know what to do. That is, he didn’t, not until he blurts something out.

"Fine, y'all can do whatever you want in here!" Mark apologizes. "I'm sorry, I don't want to waste your time. You guys can hang around, get more food, sleepover — hell, y'all can fuck and that's fine, I'm just really sorry."

It’s your turn to blink along with Jeno.

“Y-You weren’t gonna say anything?”

Mark’s cheeks turn red as he stumbles over his words. “Okay—where do I start? I was in a bet with Jaemin, and he bet that I could make Jeno jealous.” He uses his hands to communicate after pausing. “Like—okay, I didn’t think it would go this far, I’m sorry.”

But something clicks in his head as soon as he sees Jeno’s beet-red face.

“Though I feel like I won anyway,” he giggles awkwardly. “I think I actually made you jealous for a minute there.”

You turn to your poor boyfriend and find him fully flushed, hands balled into fists, forehead glistening with beads of sweat. Jeno’s eyebrows sit furiously on his tall nose, but his mouth is unsure — that’s when he realizes his envy getting the best of him for at least that moment.

You think it's cute, though. Perhaps you're the worst person for being amused to see your friend play games with your boyfriend.

“So, how much was the bet?” You break the ice, and Jeno turns to you with a shocked face.

“Twenty bucks…” Mark scratches his head, “…I guess it’s worth it?”

You laugh at him, lightly punching his shoulder. At that moment, Jeno's feelings start to blur as he experiences light deja vu before his eyes. With the way you were interacting with Mark before him, he was feeling that creeping jealousy come back. He tries to suppress it as best as he can, but this time it fails — the frustration shows in his face as you laugh and act as if he isn't there.

He’s the boyfriend. He should be the one you’re defending and paying attention to, but for some reason, you don’t mind either you or him getting played with for twenty stupid bucks.

Also, you’re hot as fuck when you’re smiling at someone else, and it frustrates him even more.

“We can do anything here, yeah?” Jeno speaks up.

Mark smiles. “Yeah. I don’t mind at all, it’s my little peace offering.”

Without another word, Jeno grabs your hand as he drags you out of the room. He runs to Mark’s bedroom, holding you firmly, closing the door only slightly shut with the other.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hiss. “You can’t just dart out like that! And my hand hurts a bit.”

At that, Jeno wordlessly inspects your wrist, thinking he hurt you in the midst of his envy — he’s also avoiding your queries.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous, but there’s no reason to be.” The reassurance doesn’t work as his eyes fixate on your hand. “It’s just a bet between them, and at the end of the day, I still love you.”

Your words fall on semi-deaf ears, the only visual effect being his cheeks getting a shade deeper. He fidgets with your fingers.

Mildly frustrated yourself, you reach out with both hands to cup his face and refocus on yours. “Jeno.”

The look he gives you sends a signal off in your head.

What seems to be hearts form in his eyes. He looks like he wants to be possessive, but he wants you to own him. Make him yours. It’s a look you’ve seen many times on his face but you can’t pinpoint the exact reason why it still gets you every time.

Like a pleading puppy, his cheeks sink into your palms as he stares back into you.

“I just…” Jeno clears his throat, “I don’t want you to be played with like that. And I-I want to be just yours.”

Your shock softens as you rub your thumbs across his cheekbones. “Oh lovely, there’s nothing to worry about. I really love you.”

He unexpectedly lunges his head forward, trapping your lips in a loving kiss. It takes a full ten seconds, eyes closed and heads tilted to find each other’s connection between the mouths, and you pull away with a huff.

“Jeno, we shouldn’t.”

You know that this usually escalates to something more than just stolen kisses. You try to stop it before anything, and your boyfriend knows this, but he doesn’t stop at all.

“Mark said we can do anything.”

You push his chest gently. “That’s not a go signal!”

“Yeah, but if anything, Mark should be the shameful one.”

Before you could question it, Jeno nods his head towards the creaked open door, revealing Mark standing behind it.

He was caught listening in.

“Hey, d-don’t take this wrong,” Mark stutters, “Was just gonna ask why you ran out on me!”

For some reason, you aren’t mad about it.

Jeno’s weirded out, that’s for sure — but neither of you can stay too mad. He had his reasons to look for you but not to ogle for that long, but maybe it’s the heat post-kiss that drives your head to a place where it shouldn’t be; especially not in team leader Mark’s house.

But it’s going there.

“I guess we’re all forgetting our manners,” you suggest with high eyebrows. Your voice, however, takes on a deeper tone with a timbre that Mark hasn’t heard — but your boyfriend knows too well.

Mark observes as your boyfriend shivers. He looks at you surprised as if he didn’t just kiss you in his best friend’s house; he knows you could make it worse.

“If you hadn’t been so nosy, I would’ve invited you, you know.”

That’s more than enough of a signal to get Mark and Jeno’s heads spiraling.

Jeno isn’t too sure what you mean. He does, but he doesn’t know why you’re acting so coy — like you were never caught off-guard. As your boyfriend, he knows your antics, but as a separate person, he isn’t too sure how to think of your thinking.

Inviting Mark to step into the same room, you reach your fingers out and curl them towards you.

“Jeno was gonna be mine for the night. It wouldn’t hurt if I could just have another toy to play with though, yeah?”

You only lay your eyes on your boyfriend at the last word. It isn’t a look of confirmation, but rather assertion — you stated it like a fact and he isn’t ready to react before you glare at him. There’s only one answer to you, and Jeno nods, making you smirk proudly.

Mark simply watches speechlessly until you smile at him.

"I mean, as you said, we could do anything. It's still your house though, so feel free to call it off..." The wind that blows as your words slow down seems to add to the heat growing in Mark's cheeks. The warmth under his skin only boils as he notices Jeno's lack of protest — worse, he sees compliance and anticipation.

He gulps as he realizes that he doesn’t want to call it off.

“So what? Care to join?”

The three have you have waited long enough for a response but his house slippers are glued to the floor. His mouth hangs open for a response but nothing leaves him.

A chuckle leaves your mouth as you take the step to inch closer to him while holding your boyfriend's hand at the back.

“Don’t be shy,” your free hand snakes up to Mark’s shoulder, “I don’t bite.”

It's a lie as per Jeno's eyes. You'll bite if presented with the consent.

Just as soon as Mark musters up a response, he finds your lips on his cheek as you pull him closer to your boyfriend. The proximity and sudden actions kill him bit by bit from the inside out. A tent forms in his pants but he thinks nothing of it when you kiss him on the lips right after.

Jeno watches with no hint of jealousy, but a watering mouth follows.

Mark savors the taste of your lips for a second, then another — before it’s all gone as you pull away with a mischievous smile.

Grabbing his chin with one hand, your thumb swipes past his wetted plump lower lip. You tilt his head slightly towards Jeno, letting your boyfriend watch as you slip your thumb inside his mouth. Mark's eyes light up, watching your face as you fixate on his mouth.

He instinctively attempts to suck your thumb, but you pry his mouth open with your other hand’s fingers, hooking his head up by his front teeth. It’s fully exposed now, Mark’s tongue out with saliva flowing from the roof of his mouth, down onto strong teeth, all the way to your index and middle fingers. Jeno speechlessly savors the sight of you leaning down to kiss his best friend’s tongue.

Desire fills him as you press your lips firmly against his tongue, smiling, then pulling back to admire the flustered mess you’ve made of the boy. Your boyfriend enjoys the view, inching close to the both of you to kiss your lips right after. Your hands never leave Mark’s open mouth.

“Kiss him.” Your index finger tugs on the corner of Mark’s lips to feign a smile. “See? He’s waiting for it.”

Jeno eyes his teammate with lust. He closes his eyes and mirrors your antics, kissing not just Mark’s tongue but his teeth too, his lips, and any inch of flesh he can get. He licks the spit in his mouth and gulps after each kiss.

As Jeno pulls away, you leave Mark’s mouth alone, making the boy cough at the sudden absence of you both — but he smiles right after.

“Fuck,” he simply whispers.

Proud of what you’ve done, you turn to make out with Jeno while your wet hands travel down to tug at a belt hoop on Mark’s pants. The signal hits him late, causing him to hurriedly unbutton his pants. You laugh into Jeno’s kiss.

“Look at this boy, he doesn’t know what to do.”

“Always like that,” Jeno comments. “He’s the cutest when he’s panicked.”

Mark’s head shoots up at Jeno. Cute? Since when was he cute to him?

It takes long the boy a minute — he zones out for a few seconds as you and Jeno start kissing up his sides, from the neck down to his hips. He can't believe anything that's happening. Whatever this was, the sudden thing he'd gotten himself into while in his own home, he couldn't seem to pull himself away from it. A magnetic force is locking him in as you suck on his neck.

Mark moans, deliciously caught by Jeno’s mouth as he makes out with him briefly while holding him firmly by the waist. Mark can feel Jeno’s hard length, straining painfully against Mark’s back. His own cock hangs against his boxers, the crotch exposed as you pull his unbuttoned pants down.

His vision blurs. His mouth salivates but feels dry. He begins to get dizzy — he can't black out though, and even if none of this is quite right, he isn't mad at all. He loves it.

The desire in him burns as you push your own body onto the bed, admiring the two boys before you.

Your hand cups your boyfriend’s ass, digging your palm inside his back pocket. “Jeno, get your pants off now.”

“Want you to help me too.” He responds with a pout.

“How about you ask your friend over here to assist you?”

Jeno obediently turns to Mark with an expression akin to that of an excited puppy. It’s another sight that only you have seen, and Mark thinks it’s an honor to see it himself; his brain lags at the adorable blink Jeno gives, before pawing at his crotch.

“You’re so hard.”

“I know. Please help me.”

It doesn’t take Mark too long this time to fully respond to this request. He eagerly reaches for the button on Jeno’s pants and frees the strained crotch, leaving him in his boxers.

Something gets the best of him. Maybe it's because this is all wrong, or maybe it's a pent-up expression of all the times he's seen his best friend in boxers — it drives him more insane than it should, seeing his length while they change in the locker rooms — but whatever it is, it drives him to pull at the hem of his boxers, taking a peek at his cock.

And fuck, is he packing a lot.

Jeno's cock is veiny and it pulses as Mark ogles at it. It's long and thick enough — it might be a bit longer than Mark's, he thinks. It's veiny, the tip red and shapely. His balls hang not too far from his cock, barely seen from the size that greeted him for a second's worth. The shaft has a curve that greets Mark with a twitch.

The boy turns to you as if to ask permission, to which he does: “May I please play with him?”

“Not yet,” you tilt your head. “A bit too eager now, aren’t we?”

“But he—we—” he loses the words in his throat. His finger leaves the hem of Jeno’s boxers, but the boy cups his hip in desperation.

"I only allowed you to help him pull it down." At that, Mark's face sours. He salivates at the picture of Jeno's cock. He had never thought of his friend that way, never really considered the invitation that was always there — for the sake of "being bros." But now that it's here, you delay him the opportunity; so close yet so far.

Mark’s fingers only leave Jeno’s boxers when the man looks at him with an obedient eye.

“Let him play with you first.” Your voice almost echoes through the room. Jeno nods as if he received a secret command, only understood by you and him. Was it the curl in your tone that caused him to act?

Either way, it shocks Mark slightly when Jeno's strong arms pull him by his shoulders. His hands then crawl both behind his head and then down to his hips, bringing the two bodies impossibly closer — Jeno seems unfazed as he pulls Mark's shirt off next. He's used to the sight of his toned body, but seeing his chest flush in both embarrassment and lust is a new sight that budges Jeno's mouth into a soft smile.

“Mark, I want you to relax and enjoy. Jeno’s really good and I want him to be good to you.”

His hands graze lightly down Mark's body. The boy's skin raises into bumps of a once-pale, now-flushed frenzy, his body hairs rising as the other's delicate fingertips trail down his exposed arms and sides. Mark's chest is heaving, unable to catch a break or a breath.

It's all worse when Jeno kisses him once more, taking advantage of his open mouth. His hands stay on Mark's chest, fingers looking for his nipples — he finds them quickly and prods at them with pressure so good that it makes Mark moan. You laugh as if you're right; your boyfriend's really good, and the boy you've been eyeing is taking it well.

However, you’re getting impatient, having this go for too long for you to be satisfied.

You take good use of both of your hands and pull down their boxers, each hand being careful yet swift as you fist the fabric out of their skin, watching their beautiful cocks bounce. This interrupts the kissing — they gasp in unison and it’s music to your ears.

Unfortunately, you don’t follow up with any more words, leaving them to look at you with wide eyes. All you do is giggle to yourself, pat the tips of their oversensitive and deliciously hard lengths, and silently command them to do something.

Jeno acts first: eyes darting down to Mark's impressive length, he slides his thick cock beside the other. Their shafts rub, making Mark bite his lip, but his mouth opens anyway as their reddish-pink tips kiss each other.

Their size differences are more apparent this way; Jeno's cock seems thicker, and Mark's is longer. Deep in hyper-analysis, you urge them once again to rub their cocks together with simultaneous handjobs.

The sudden reintroduction of their hands leaves Mark squirming next to Jeno. He instinctively holds onto his shoulders for support, an adorable sight that neither of you has ever seen nor expected from "the dependable Mark."

You're slow with it first. Your hand makes its way from the tips, thumbs prodding playfully at the tiny holes sitting atop, only for your fingers to form rings, wrapping each individual digit around gradually as your palms slide down their lengths. Once you've wrapped the pinky around, you're at the base of their cocks, teasing to cup their balls — but before they could even moan for more, you're sliding up again. After a few more strokes, the pace picking up with each full slide up and down, they hump your hands with your pace until you pull away.

“I can’t be doing all the work.”

Your words are intimidating. The two boys take it with confusion as they lock eyes for a moment, cocks twitching centimeters away from each other.

Out of pure desperation, Mark thrusts his hips upward, rubbing his cock well up against Jeno's. The friction leaves him breathless, sharp bursts of pleasure combing through his nerves. With their closeness, Jeno could only mirror his movement in response. He holds Mark by his face with one hand, reaching his other down to connect their tips in his palm. The gesture shocks them both, the distance closing into zero inches, crotches and groomed bush hair pressed together.

You catch wind of Jeno’s heavy breaths. “You’re panting, baby.”

He looks up at you through hooded eyes, head thrown slightly back in pleasure. “I’m excited.”

“Such a puppy.”

Mark looks back and forth between the both of you as you exchange hot words. The buildup of heat in his stomach goes further down to his crotch until Jeno could feel the warmth on his cock's leaking tip. Embarrassed, he wordlessly attempts to turn his head away, but your hands—slimy as they are—hold his chin in place. He seems excited too, Jeno thinks to himself.

You move your hand with Mark’s chin on it close to your boyfriend’s face, coercing Jeno to kiss him again. Their mouths quickly open, jutting their tongues out to greet each other as they practically hump each other with their cocks pressed close. Jeno breaks away from the kiss to breathe, resting his forehead on Mark’s — the eye contact that they share after doesn’t break, though.

It’s an intense stare that holds no hard feelings, only incredibly hard cocks rubbing together as they near their highs. Mark seems to chase it first, but before anything could happen, you cock your head to the side.

You slap Mark’s bulging cock with a fierce spank.

It hurts only lightly, only since you slapped it with less of a force and more of a flick of your hand, but it still stings. Mark almost falls over, only caught by Jeno’s strong and muscular arms.

“What was that for?” Tears well up in his eyes but he doesn’t sound upset at all. He just genuinely wants to ask why he was denied the high and you can hear nothing but desperation in his voice.

All you do, though, is laugh in response. Jeno looks at him with fond eyes too, except he knows he’s in trouble next: his cock also started leaking precum. You run the pad of your thumb atop his leaking hole, blocking the flow ever so slightly. You then guide your boyfriend’s cock back to Mark’s, but you hold their shafts together in place with your one stretched hand, precum mixing and all.

“We’ve barely even started and you’re both acting like this?” Your voice is sultry yet stern.

The two merely whimper and shy their faces away. Mark looks down at the scene and amusement hits him all at once. The sight of his body and Jeno’s, naked and sweaty and held together by a singular hand on their cocks, makes him shiver and bite his lip.

“Sorry,” Jeno utters first, “I-It just felt too good.”

A breeze bellows through the room and it leaves all three of you with your hair raised, but you don’t budge a single bit. You turn to Mark.

“I…” Mark starts to speak yet nothing of substance comes out.

“Excuses are nothing, I know you’re both desperate.” Your hand leaves their slimy cocks. You don’t hesitate as you bring a finger to your mouth, tasting their sins as they writhe before you in slight embarrassment.

“How about you both show me how much you want me?”

It’s not supposed to be as shocking as it is, but the realization hits them both incredibly late that you’re still fully clothed, mostly untouched, left to be their eye candy as they fondled each other earlier. Jeno and Mark’s gazes fall through your entire body in all directions as they plot how they could start pleasing you.

Even if they both clearly wanted you, they restrained themselves and took out their desires on each other. That’s very obedient and patient of them, you think, and you don’t think it’s wrong to enjoy the sight.

Jeno's grasp on Mark loosens and leaves as he inches towards you, sweat dripping and everything, closing his face in on yours to kiss your lips deeply. You two always do this, accustomed to each other's rushes of warmth and intimacy every single time you kiss, and so it feels natural as Jeno latches his mouth on your neck next. His hands, trembling slightly yet not at all unsure, make their way to trace up the outline of your sides until they find your breasts.

He breaks away from working on a neck hickey as he examines your chest, restrained by layers of clothing that he wants off. Instead of impatiently reaching over the fabric, he takes his time to lift it from under and urge you to move it over your head. Mark watches intently, almost studying the movements while he refrains from reaching down for his pulsating cock.

Dare he even touch himself to the sight as he may be punished by not just you, but also Jeno.

“Not gonna do anything?” Jeno faces Mark with a smirk.

Mark stammers as he finds his words to ask permission. “Dude—uhm, can I?”

You laugh at how his hands hesitate to touch you, eager to even get ahold of your bra but still too scared.

“Please?”

All you do is smile with a nod. Jeno gives him way, pointing at the hook of the bra.

He first grabs ahold of your breasts by holding the bra cups, only to slide his hands to the sides of the undergarment, tracing your upper body until he's made his way backward; his fingertips find the hooks, unclasping them with only a bit of struggle — he knows what he's doing, he just gets nervous as your boobs flow out of the loosened bra.

It takes him a moment to even acknowledge that the beautiful view of your boobs inches away from his chest is all his doing. Jeno lets out a light snort, swinging his arm over Mark's red shoulders. He's blushing all over, flustered to high heavens.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Damn right,” Mark agrees. “You’re fucking lucky, dude.”

Jeno pecks Mark’s heated cheek. “So don’t bring her in the next bets, yeah?”

The things that they say ring through your ears loudly. You’re living for Jeno’s protectiveness, Mark’s shocked expression, and the fact that they both proceed to work their way on your lower half.

They urge you out of your pants, the two men helping your legs out, kissing your skin as they expose themselves. You can't help but chuckle, moan a little bit, and even grab onto their skilled yet calloused hands. The two are unexpectedly gentle, working surprisingly in tandem to even just get you out of your clothes, all until you're naked.

All until they’re yours.

Jeno ends up kneeling down in front of you like a patient dog. Mark stands by your side, waiting.

As adorable as they are, you’re growing desperate for some more action, so you grab ahold of Mark’s cock and whisper in his ear.

“Be a dear and tell my baby to kiss me there.”

Mark gulps, tongue caught in a twist as he musters the courage to relay it to Jeno.

“Uhh, sh-she said…lick—no, kiss her.”

Jeno looks up at you in confirmation. You pet his head with your other hand. There are hearts in his eyes.

Without another word, Jeno doesn’t waste a second as he dives his head down.

Fiddling between your legs, he holds you by the backs of your inner thighs and does as he’s told. He nudges his nose around the area to get himself closer and closer to your heat. He kisses you, puckering his lips and smacking your clit ever so sweetly. He gets a light taste of your sweetness dripping wild from watching the two men act desperately earlier. You hum in content, stroking Mark's cock—still in your hand—ever so slightly.

Mark dips his head onto your neck. He attempts to kiss you in the same way Jeno does, warm and loving. Jeno himself digs his head further between your thighs, licking wide stripes with his tongue tapering up to the tip as he gets back on your clit. You shiver with a lustful smile.

Jeno continues to swirl his tongue from your clit back down to your entrance, allowing your slick to mix in with his drool. Mark refuses to even look you in the eye from all of the sinful sounds he’s hearing — you remedy that by pecking a kiss on his cheek mole.

“If you weren’t so cute, you’d be dead by now.”

Mark’s cock stiffens at that. It throbs, a long vein pulsing against your palm from your words alone. A part of him hates to admit that he’s glad he took up the bet if it led him here.

You grab a fistful of your boyfriend’s hair out of nowhere, pulling slightly at his scalp to signal him up. He misreads this at first, instead nodding his head back into your cunt, but you let out a light grunt and a hiss.

“Mmph—Sorry,” Jeno says, hands wobbling awkwardly at the backs of your thighs for support. “Needed me, baby?”

You raise an eyebrow. “I wanted you to only kiss me there, but…”

Jeno dips his head to apologize. He mutters on and on about how good you tasted, how sweet it felt, how lovely and velvety the skin around your clit was while he licked it. Mark’s face heats up impossibly more at the descriptions and subtle praises that Jeno has for your pussy.

“Oh, look who’s the jealous one now.”

Mark’s sweating bullets. “I-I’m not!”

“You can have a turn at it if you’d like.” The suggestion runs off your lips casually. So casual that it leaves him slightly puzzled, cock still aching in your hand.

“How about only ten seconds in my cunt?”

He blinks three times. You’re all down to absurd means of getting each other off and you’re about to fully abandon the circumstances that got you here. That got the both of them here.

He whips his head towards your boyfriend for approval, and Jeno only nods his head in your direction. "Her orders, man."

You laugh and kiss Mark, urging him down on the bed behind him. You push him by his shoulders and the look on his face, wide eyes and all, has you smirking.

“Ten seconds. Just to try it.”

You align your slit to match his red, slimy tip, sliding your cunt from your clit down to your wet entrance. You don’t let him in just yet, instead teasing him with a few slides, letting him feel the velvety friction of your pussy lips before he gets a taste of everything else.

“That feels good,” he breathes out.

“It’s not even in yet.”

“I’m just feeling as much as I can,” Mark smiles nervously. “I only got ten seconds after this—”

Before he could even get cocky, you fully sit down on his cock, slamming your cunt until he’s all the way inside.

He shivers, hitting his head back on the bed in pure pleasure. The wetness of your walls envelops him with a warmth he hasn’t felt anywhere else. Slowly yet surely, he begins to lose his mind to delirium as his cock throbs, almost vibrating inside you.

“Ten,” Jeno counts for you, watching the part where you both connect as he sits politely next to you both.

He refuses to touch himself even as he watches you lift your lower half away from Mark, the slick of your essence and leftover drool from Jeno slipping down the cock.

“Nine,” he continues, breath hitching as you wiggle your hips.

At this point, only Mark's tip is inside you, but before he can even do anything, you slam your hips back down. The smack of your ass on his thighs makes him groan loudly, the sweetness of his voice echoing in your ears.

“Eight.” You repeat your motions, swirling your hips slightly and letting the wetness drip ever so gracefully down your thighs onto his. “Seven.”

Mark rolls his eyes back. His balls hurt at this point. He’s strained and frustrated.

He turns his head. “Holy shit, Jeno, I’ll cum—”

“Hold it, easy now.” Unimpressed, Jeno instead leans forward to talk him down.

“Five,” he whispers, “four…”

All Mark can do is whimper through a bitten lip. Your hands roam around his chest for support, the unforgiving sensations haunting his skin as you touch his most sensitive areas.

“Three…”

Mark hisses. “Won’t you count any fucking slower?”

“Oh, you want me to cut it out?” You say with a stop.

Regret immediately washes over his wide eyes as you lift yourself off his dick.

“So close yet so far. What a pity,” you laugh, turning to your sweet boyfriend and feeling him up instead.

You maneuver your hips and align yourself over Jeno’s cock, teasing him the same way you did with Mark. You don’t enter yet and keep your wetness dripping on him before giving the neglected boy a wink.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t try my ass.”

A shock instantly rushes through his veins, coloring his skin flushed once more. He's been sweating, and it worsened once you suggested it. He tries to say anything about it but falls short of words when you urge him closer with the call of your fingers. Jeno watches in awe, lightly frustrated that his cock is so close to your cunt.

You grab Mark from the back, guiding his hips close to yours. He’s kneeling, holding onto your waist and hips for stability, ready to position his cock by your second entrance. He licks his hand, a generous amount of spit and drool wetting it, just more than enough for him to lube up your hole to take him.

Jeno’s cock throbs cutely from under, so you coo and kiss his tip with the warmth of your clit. He bites back a whimper.

It isn’t long before you invite Mark to enter you, lining up and guiding his cock inside, slowly stretching your tightest hole until the tip is in. Mark’s breathing heavily, sweating buckets as he feels how tight it is, hugging just the tip so hard that he could explode at any given moment.

You push your lower half back, adjusting to his girth and length, taking him inch by inch. You’re panting too, strained little moans escaping your throat as you struggle and succeed to take him all the way to the middle.

Once you’re nearly bottoming him out, you both still in place, allowing yourselves time to adjust.

Jeno still looks pitiful with his cock pushed against nothing but your clit. It only gives you an idea.

“Mark. Be a dear and fuck me hard when we’re good, yeah?”

Confused, he agrees with a nod. You both signal each other when it feels best to move, and with that, Mark fully pulls back before slamming his entire length back into your fit little ass.

The force from his thrust pushes you forward, sinking Jeno’s cock deep into your pussy.

The sudden action leaves Jeno groaning and Mark grunting. Both of their cocks fill you up with no room to breathe, the sensation of the two pulsating and hard lengths making you shake. You feel yourself close but you hold back for their sake.

Another thrust from Mark sends your cunt further down on Jeno’s cock. Your boyfriend even begins moving his hips, emptying your pussy only to fill it back up again. The other doesn’t stop, almost losing himself as he goes faster and faster, bit by bit, ecstasy hitting him soon.

“Mark, baby, you’re doing so good.”

Eyes lighting up, it takes five seconds—and a few moans in between—for Mark to realize that he’s the baby that you’re referring to.

Jeno also catches it late, but instead of the jealousy seeping back into his veins, the opposite manifests. He smiles, somehow proud of Mark for sharing a name that they both earned from you.

“Baby, come on, make me cum.”

You lean back, an arm thrown over to hold onto Mark for support. He keeps going, pushing his cock against your limit with each thrust, all the while Jeno leans forward to reach your clit and tease it.

Being filled and fucked all at once like this has all three of you on edge, but Mark can’t take it — he slips out of your ass and cums all over your back.

You don’t mind, instead falling forward to bounce on Jeno’s cock while he cums inside you next. That doesn’t stop him from flicking your clit with his experienced fingers, and you squirt all over him.

All three of you collapse on the bed, trying to overcome your highs.

“…That was fucking insane, man.”

Mark is the first to sit up, eyeing the both of you fucked out on his own bed. He has to clean up a lot, so much that it’s lightly embarrassing, but none of you seem to mind at all at that moment.

“Yo Jeno.”

Too tired to move his body, he simply raises an eyebrow while looking back at Mark. “What’s up?”

"I swear on my dick I'm not playing with you and Y/N, aight?" He scratches the back of his head, suddenly getting shy. "And, uh, I'm still sorry for the bet."

“Nah, it’s good. Just say you won, get the money, and run.”

Mark realizes that it could’ve just been that easy, that he didn’t have to do any of that. It’s way too late now, but at least he won and got laid.

“...And you can treat us to dinner with that cash,” Jeno adds with a wink.

The boy simply rubs his flushed face in his hands and sighs. Dinner with his newfound fuckmates isn’t so bad after all.

“Well, you’re free to shower, clean up, sleep, do whatever—”

You grab ahold of Mark’s arm and pull him back on the bed. He falls right between you and Jeno’s warm bodies.

Jeno shushes him with a side hug, and you giggle softly. Somehow none of this feels as disgusting as it should be while all three of you are in each other’s arms.

[jockwrites]

LUST - p.b

hi this is chapter two lol

warnings: angst, asshole paige

part: 2

a/n: this is pretty short lol. also the songs i put are basically what the chapters are based off of! sorry if that wasn’t clear, it’s basically some “playlist” thing i see other writers do!! 🙂‍↕️ also im basically putting you guys on..

its been 6 days since you’ve broken up with your boyfriend.

you and paige have been hanging out every day since, and you can say these have been the best days since you two have met.

right now, she’s at practice. that means you’re all by yourself.

you decide you wanna go down to the lobby, maybe grab a few snacks.

you check your phone before you leave, no calls or texts. that’s boring, and it sucks.

anyway

you put on your slippers and head out. as you’re walking you see paige’s teammate, ayanna.

“hey, ayanna. don’t you guys have practice?” you ask.

“huh? practice is tommorow” she says, laughing.

but you found nothing about that sentence funny. at all.

“well.. paige told me you guys have practice today?” you say confused.

“well blondie is lying. why she tell you that?”

“i don’t know. she said she had to leave for practice around like 1 earlier and i haven’t heard from her since.” you say, annoyed.

“whattt? girl its 9pm. no practice lasts that long regardless.. how vulnerable are you?” she says, giggling.

“ok shut up. can u text her? ask where she is? pleaseee?” you ask with puppy dog eyes.

“alright alright. gimme a minute,” she pulls out her phone, going to text paige.

as she texts her, you see her expression change. she’s looking weird.

“what is it? where is she?” you say, worried.

“she’s- she’s at her cousins.” she says nervously.

“are you lying?”

“no? i’m not. but i gotta go, ill see you around.” she speaks, walking away hurriedly.

you look around, wondering if you’re crazy.

you pull your phone out of your pocket, going to text paige.

hey, where r u?

you sit and wait. might as well get your rice krispy treat you’ve been wanting.

you walk over to the vending machine, putting in the dollar to buy your treat.

*ding*

*ding*

*ding*

“holy shit what the fuck dude” you whisper to yourself as you get 3 messages back to back from your friend.

you open the messages, and your heart instantly drops.

“what. the. fuck.” you say in your mind.

what the fuck? don’t you guys like .. idk talk?

that’s exactly what your friends message reads.

it’s three pictures of paige walking with some girl. and the third picture..

they’re holding hands.

all of a sudden, an incoming call pops up on your screen from your friend.

“holy shit girl isn’t that your little girlfriend?” says your friend over the phone.

“dude. where are you? how’d you get those?”

“i’m at chick fil a right now, and then i seen THEEE paige bueckers like omg woah then i see her with some girl that wasn’t you and that’s definitely like a omggggg woahhh reaction and so i-” she rambled.

“shut up for a second jesus. holding hands is like actually crazy. alright i gotta go.”

“alright bye babe but talk to her or something and fill me in on the tea pleaseee ok bye love you!!!”

you hang up. you don’t know how to feel right now.

you’re so overstimulated.

you walk back to your room, tears ready to fall from your eyes.

you check the message you sent earlier, and you realize you’ve been on read for ten minutes.

you put down your phone & sit back against your head board. you’re so confused, so upset, so angry.

you feel so stupid.

you start to cry, looking back on everything you’ve done for her. everything you’ve done with her.

she turned you gay, she made you breakup with your boyfriend, and now she’s cheating.

not necessarily cheating, since you guys aren’t technically together.

but that doesn’t matter, you’re off limits to other people and she’s supposed to be.

you don’t hold hands with your cousin like that.

after about 20 minutes of crying, you hear your door open. and speak of the devil, it’s paige.

she walks in, noticing you crying and immediately comes over to you.

“woah woah baby, what’s wrong? are you okay?” she says, confused.

“who is the girl.”

“what? who?”

“the girl! who is she paige?” you yell.

“i don’t know who youre talking about.”

“you know exactly what and who the fuck i’m talking about dude?!” you jeered.

“chill the fuck out,” she tempted, “and if you want me to be honest, she’s just a friend of mine.”

“nobody holds hands like that with their friends. you’re a liar.”

“no way you’re calling me a liar now. i said she was my friend and that’s what the fuck i said. drop it.”

“drop it? you literally said im off limits to other people, so how does that change for you?”

“it doesn’t. i’m just saying, she’s just a friend.”

“whatever paige. i don’t even know how you could do this to me after everything we’ve done for and to each other.” you whine.

“don’t act like a baby now. i’m not the bad person here, you are.” she huffs.

“how the fuck could you even say that?”

“well i’m not the person who left their boyfriend for a girl! i don’t know what you’d expect from me.” she snaps.

“what the fuck? you made me leave him paige! you asked, you convinced, you nagged. don’t flip this shit on me!” you snap back.

“well maybe i wanted to have a little fun. that’s all it fucking was.” she says, an angry look in her eyes.

“take a look around paige, nothing about this is fun to me. read the room. think about how i would’ve felt.”

“how the hell did you even find out?”

“doesn’t matter. don’t flip the subject.” you sass.

“whatever. i don’t know why you thought we were more than a hookup anyway. you’re obsessed and crazy.”

your heart drops. you immediately turn away from her, tears about to form in your eyes.

“get the fuck out.” you snarked.

“alright. i’ll do that then.”

“bye. don’t come back.”

and just like that, you hear the door close. she actually left.

tears immediately start flowing. you feel so hurt, neglected, ridiculed.

you cannot believe the words that came out of her mouth, after everything.

you sniffle and cry, thinking back on the memories you two had.

it would be insane to say it wasn’t more than a hookup. but you guess it was.

as you slowly cry yourself to sleep, you realize this was a mistake.

a/n: hi so this is horrible but pls stay tuned for next chapter, maybe smut maybe not 👅 also someone teach me how to make a masterlist pls??!!!

[themeraldee]

The Lucky Winner - Part 3

[Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2] | [AO3]

18+ Only | 10k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Early Season 1. Voice kink (very mild mention). Awkward first dates. Awkward dialogue. Messy timeline. Established Relationship. Love confession. Emotional sex. Unhealthy Relationship.

Summary: Your life turns upside down, again, when Homelander reaches out to you asking you out on a date.

Author’s Note: This is set between the events of Part 1 & Part 2. It really is just a self-indulgent excuse to explore some relationship building and dynamics. Lot of awkward dialogue so be warned.

The next time Homelander contacts you it catches you just as off guard as the first time. Maybe even more so. You never expected him to turn up in the first place, let alone be interested in seconds.

Your phone is ringing on the bed and ever since the development from a week ago you’ve been on edge anytime your phone rang. You drop the towel you’re folding back on the pile of unsorted laundry and you nearly dive onto the bed, reaching for your phone. In the panic you drop it about three times, your shaky hands inadvertently playing hot potato.

“Hello?!” You yell into the phone, panicked. You don’t actually end up checking who’s calling, too worried about not accidentally hanging up. Plus it’s not like you could have saved Homelander’s number from a week ago anyway. It showed up as blocked on your phone’s call logs so you had no way to recognise his number.

“Hello there! Nice of you to pick up.” You squeaked in surprise and the voice on the phone turned from chipper to confused. “You okay? You sound a little—” And oh my god, it’s him! You’re talking to Homelander, again. Okay, okay, now it’s time to try and keep calm.

His voice is still gloriously rich and sweet in your ear and here you are about to most likely embarrass yourself again because for the life of you you’re incapable of coming across as calm and collected.

“I’m fine!” You immediately cut him off, your voice shrill and strained. He does not need to know the ins-and-outs of your internal struggle. But either way you’re already doing terribly. Who are you to cut Homelander off mid-sentence? Where are your manners? 

“Why are you—um—I mean, is there anything you need?” You clumsily make your way through your response. Definitely not how you wanted to present yourself but it’s a lot better than barely being able to say a word like last time!

“I’m taking you out on a date. Get ready for 7 today.” You heard it. You’re pretty damn sure you heard that right, yet not a single part of you believes what he said.

“Sorry? W-w-what do you mean?” You sputter in confusion, your brain simply not capable of computing this news. 

“I mean that I’m taking you out for dinner. What’s hard to understand?” He sounds irritated and your heart is pounding. From so many things at once. How are you meant to process that Homelander contacted you again, is asking you out for a date and now you’ve managed to irk him?!

Before you manage to apologize, following your typical spiel, Homelander continues. “Maybe you don’t know this but it’s kind of what men do when they want to get to know someone. You following yet?” 

You ignore the condescending remark and instead you focus on what he’s actually saying.

There may as well be steam coming out of your ears, you genuinely feel like a blushing teenage girl talking to her crush. You’re hot bright red in the face and you feel the literal heat coming off your face.

“Yeah but you’re not—well of course you are—but also you’re not! Y’know, just an average Joe.” How do you go about explaining that you don’t feel worthy of that kind of attention?

“Doesn’t matter, you’re missing the point. Is that a no?” You’d think he would be pissed saying that, who in their right mind would refuse going on a date with Homelander, but he sounds amused more than anything. 

Again with the reading you like a book. Because you barely manage to let out a barrage of “No! No no no no— that’s not!” before Homelander starts laughing.

“Alright, I’ll pick you up then.”

“No, wait! I can’t—I can’t do the public thing. You’re you! And as soon as I show up in public with you I won’t be left alone. I know that’s normal for you, but my life isn’t like that. I’m just… me.” You’re just a nobody. You don’t have a social media presence. You don’t bring attention to yourself. And you like to keep it that way. Going on a public date with America’s golden boy himself? You would be ripped apart by the online vultures. 

You all but freak out on the phone and for a second you think he disconnected because you can’t hear a thing over the line but he suddenly speaks up.

“Oh well. We can’t have that, can we? You better have dinner ready at your place instead.” You don’t need to see him to imagine him with the biggest satisfied grin on his face. “I’ll be there at 7. Catch you later!”

Homelander hangs up on you and you hear the disconnected tone ringing in your ear as you stand there like a fish out of water. Mouth gaping open, letting out disbelieving stutters. 

You pull the phone away from your ear, looking down at it as if it offended you. It’s then you notice the time. Shit shit shit. You have less than four hours to make your place and yourself presentable, go on a grocery run and start cooking for Homelander?! What just happened!

“Oh no no no no. This is not happening.” You rub your hands over your face as if to wipe the shock off your face. You’re so overwhelmed with the rollercoaster of emotions that you don’t know whether to have a panic attack, laugh nervously or downright cry.

Okay, first of all the pile of laundry is gonna have to wait. You don’t have the time to meticulously fold your t-shirts and panties. You gather up the clean and dry laundry into your hands, haphazardly shoving it into the closet before closing the door on what will be an avalanche of laundry for your future self to deal with.

With pure panic-induced energy that you haven’t felt in a long while you manage to just about make your place presentable within an hour. Finally managing to gather and clean up the mugs and glasses that have been cluttering up your surfaces, making your bed all neat and tidy—just in case—and shoving all unnecessary clutter into cupboards. It’s not like Homelander would use his x-ray vision to judge the inside of your cabinets, would he?

Speeding your way out of your apartment you make your way over to the closest shop. Standing in the fresh produce aisle you suddenly realize you don’t actually have a plan. What the fuck are you meant to cook for Homelander?! Even after all the content you’ve consumed you’re pretty sure there’s not a single mention of his favorites. At least ones he’s not been sponsored to promote. Sure, he’s on many products, ranging from frozen peas to whole milk but that doesn’t mean it’s something he genuinely endorses. After all you want to get to know the man behind the costume, a date is not meant to be just another PR interview for him!

You’re starting to look strange. People are passing you while you’re internally panicking over what to buy. What if he’s allergic to something? What if he goes into anaphylactic shock and fucking dies! Even if you had an EpiPen or he carried it on him you wouldn’t be able to stab it into him anyway. And suddenly you’ve killed the world’s most beloved superhero and you’re spending the rest of your life in jail with Vought most certainly making sure you pay your dues. Even if all of that was true you had no way of knowing. It’s not like Vought would ever leak that kind of information. Not very good for their brand to tweet that their best superhero is allergic to fucking nuts!  

You shake your head a little, snapping yourself out of your dazed state. If Homelander’s brand is anything it’s that red-blooded American male perfect standard. Surely he wouldn’t complain about some steak dinner right? Men love steaks! You just make sure to avoid most common allergens. You pick up some potatoes and other vegetables to roast along with a good pricey cut of steak that was easily out of your budget.

You get home just as fast and with each passing second you’re more and more on edge. You don’t know whether it’s the anxiety coiling in your guts or the so called ‘butterflies’ but you’ve never been this nervous before. With the clock ticking and the food cooking you’re suddenly more and more paranoid over everything. From your insane Homelander merch collection to even just the furniture you’ve got! Not that that’s anything you can change in the next hour but your mind is running at a hundred miles an hour and you’re trying to account for everything. 

Just before it gets to the agreed time you change into something nice but casual, straight after shoving the laundry avalanche back into its place. You even leave the balcony door open, doubting he’s gonna knock on your door like a normal person. 

And while you’re there focusing on platting up your best attempt at steak and roasted vegetables, you hear the familiar sound of Homelander’s landing. You whip your head towards the wall clock with such urgency it’s shocking you don’t give yourself whiplash. 

Shit. It was literally 7pm. You wanted to set the table all pretty and prep it perfectly but you got so preoccupied with the place looking as good as it can that you lost track of time. You’re sure he’s used to luxury and perfection. You want to do your best to replicate that!

“Homelander!” Comes out of you with a little gasp. You tilt your head to look at him. And what you see makes your heart skip a beat. 

There he is, in his suited-out glory per usual, except this time he’s holding a bouquet of roses with a dashing smile on his face that quickly turns into a self-satisfied grin as he immediately notices your panic at his presence. Even after he thoroughly reduced you to a puddle of goo just last week you were still such a skittish uncertain thing around him. 

“Wow, smells delicious in here.” He looks around taking it in while inhaling the mouth-watering smell of sizzling steak.

Homelander steps closer with calculated steps, checking you out without an ounce of shame. You don’t know if it’s just the pure intensity in his eyes that has you feeling on edge or if he really is undressing you with his gaze. “These,” he frees your hand, prying your palm open with his gloved hand, “are for you.” He places the bouquet of roses into your palm, squeezing it shut around the wrapped stems.

In a way you’re paralyzed. The reality of the situation finally hits you and you realize you’re really here about to have a dinner date with Homelander. Who just brought you expensive, gorgeous flowers, because that’s something that totally happens to people like you.

You’re standing there, staring at the deep rich red of the roses that actually ends up matching the cardigan you put on for this. Your little attempt at complimenting the suit you knew he'd show up in. 

Your mind is going a million miles a second and your other hand squeezes a petal in between your fingertips. There’s droplets of water on the velvety surface. You didn’t realize it was raining at the time. You look past him through a window as if you could make out the weather through the darkness of the evening.

Looking at the roses now, they look beautiful, pristine. He flew here right? How did he manage to keep them in one shape with the speeds he flies at.

“H-how did you fly with—” You don’t even finish the question before he’s answering.

“I don’t have to fly at super speeds all the time. You’d think my most loyal fan would know that.”

“You can read minds too?” Falls out of your mouth before you even think about what you're saying.

“No. You’re just very easy to read.” He places his hands on his hips, naturally defaulting to his superhero pose. 

And sure, maybe the way your eyes move in between the window, him and the flowers is a dead giveaway but you still don’t think it’s that easy to figure out exactly how your thought process works. 

He seems unhappy with your lack of enthusiastic response. He probably expected you to jump at him, wrapping your arms around him in pure glee that he’d do such a romantic thing. 

He nodded towards the bouquet, raising his eyebrows.

“Anyway, your flowers. You might want to put them in some water. Unless you plan on fondling each petal all night.” You don’t know whether he said it that way on purpose or if your absurd attraction to his voice is reaching new heights but the imagery that conjures is not one that would belong at a dinner table. There’s a different kind of petal-fondling you have in mind for later.

“Sorry! I’m sorry. And thank you. Really, this is very kind of you. They’re beautiful.” Finally, he’s satisfied with that response, his shoulders relax a bit, his chest puffing out as he sees you hold the flowers closer to you.

You’re all over the place and your movements are in no way elegant or thought out as you awkwardly stumble around, pulling out the biggest glass you could find. This ends up being a large glass measuring jug which you admit looks rather strange, and you don't miss the way he raises his eyebrow at the display. 

Well, it was a lot better than if you used the bucket you keep under the sink for cleaning. It’s not like you have a perfect pretty vase ready for this occasion. Until now you didn’t have anyone bringing you flowers and you never really bought any for yourself.

He doesn’t comment on the miserable display. Instead he focuses on how wound up you are.

“Jeez, you’re even stiffer than last time. You know I usually fuck my dates after dinner, but if you need me to loosen you up…” His crude attempt at humor and breaking the ice just has your brain screeching and halting all actions. 

“What?! No, nonono. That won’t—That’s not. I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. That you’re here.”

“I did tell you I’d come. And I’m pretty sure you’re not plating up two plates for yourself there silly.” He shakes his head while clicking his tongue, as if disapproving of your doubt. 

“I mean, I’m surprised that you want to do this. With me.” 

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m here aren’t I? Last time I checked I asked you out, not the other way around. And trust me sweetheart, I don’t do shit out of pity.” He walks closer to you, his hand patting the side of your arm, settling his hand there and sliding it up until he reaches your jaw. The leather of his glove is cold, some raindrops still stuck in the crevices.

Although your heart rate picks up, you smile genuinely. Getting the straightforward confirmation that he wants to be here with you warms your heart. “Alright.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have everything ready. I lost track of time. Do you mind just sitting down, I’ll finish up in a second.”

“Yup, can do.” He sits down at the small table slapping his palms on his thighs as he does so. Already peeling his gloves off, discarding the gloves at the edge of the table. 

You finish up the plating, trying to make it as neat as possible. You bring the plates over, one in front of him the other right opposite. “Um, do you drink beer? I got some in case you do. I know you do endorse some but I’m sure that doesn’t mean you have to consume it in your free time.”

“No thanks, never got the taste for it. Have you got milk?” 

You blank a little at the request. It’s not the typical pairing by any means but who are you to tell him what to like. Instead you comply, tucking away the little preference into the corner of your mind where you keep all your knowledge about him.

“Um, yeah. I do. Again, I got one you’ve done marketing for, just in case you did like it. I wasn’t really sure. Believe it or not there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” You admit. It’s not like everything that his Marketing team puts out is all real. You're sure they leave out any of his actual preferences so future advertisers don't clash with any competition.

“With this logic I’m surprised you didn’t buy the entire store.” 

“I was close to it.” You take the carton out of the fridge, shutting the door with your hip. “Do you want it warm or cold?” 

“Cold is fine.” You nod, pouring some into a glass placing it in front of him.

As a last touch you take two roses from the huge bouquet, popping them into a narrow tall glass filled with water and you place the romantic decoration to the side of the table before sitting down.

He strangely smiles at the gesture, something about it feeling awfully domestic. It may not be perfectly manicured but it's real and it does the job just as well. It's not a perfect setting made for a photoshoot. You're just trying to impress him with what you've got. All for his enjoyment only. And that alone makes it a lot more special. 

Suddenly being right across him really set the reality of the situation. You feel a little awkward about the setting. But there is really only so much you could have done with your small apartment. And it’s not like he hasn’t been here before. He knows what you're working with.

You watch as he cuts into the steak, stabbing it with his fork and bringing a piece to his mouth.

“Wait! You’re not allergic to anything right?!” You suddenly panic, feeling cold sweat pour over you at the thought of your irrational thoughts from earlier coming true. 

He looks thoroughly amused but he doesn’t answer and instead just takes the bite. 

“Are you always this worried on dates? Or do you get them to fill out a questionnaire beforehand?” He seems to enjoy throwing all these little jabs highlighting how much of a nervous mess you are in his presence. 

“I don’t usually cook for my dates on the first date. There’s usually nothing to worry about.”

“I did ask you out for dinner. This is your own doing missy.” He waved his fork at you, pointing at you being the one to blame.

“You think I’m—oh. I’m not complaining about this, oh my god! I just didn’t really know what you like! Surprisingly not a lot about that online. They really know how to keep you a mystery. And even superheroes have allergies! How was I to know whether you’ve got one or not? But even if you did, it’s not like Vought would release that information.” You ramble on, trying to explain yourself but you’re really just digging yourself a deeper hole. Not that Homelander looks particularly put off. If anything, the amused grin spreads to both corners of his mouth.

“You know I’m not here for the food right? Though this is not too bad. Didn’t think you had it in you.” He raises his eyebrows in appreciation. 

“I live on my own. I don’t know why you’re surprised to learn that I can cook for myself.” You said feigning offense but inside you were squealing at the compliment.

“When’s the last time you’ve had a date?” He changes the topic, with each passing moment he’s less interested in the food and a lot more honed in on you and what little secrets you can let him in on. Though he’s still happily nursing the glass of milk. 

“It’s been a while, I guess.” You’re overcome with this anxious feeling in your gut. Is it meant to be a dig at the date you’ve prepared? Is he saying that you’re not desirable enough to be dated?

He catches you off guard with his smug little smile. “Thought so. Guess you’re too busy being my biggest fan, huh?”

You nearly choke on your food, surprised and flustered by his words. The tell-tale sign of heat creeps up your neck and to the tip of your ears in embarrassment. He’s hard to read and you can’t tell whether he’s trying to humiliate you or if he genuinely enjoys the reminder of having someone fawn over him right there and then.

You put your cutlery down, softly clinking it against the plate. “Look, I’m really sorry about all that. I’m a fan but I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were.” The corners of his mouth comically pull down feigning innocence with a shrug.

You playfully roll your eyes. “You insinuated. I’m just saying I wouldn’t have all this stuff out if I knew you’d ever see it!” You wave your arm in the general direction of the rest of your humble apartment. Still littered with Homelander merch. If you had more time to prepare for the date you would have maybe even taken some of it down. Replace some posters with photos of friends or family, making you appear a lot more put together. But alas, your guilty pleasure is still blatantly obvious and out for anyone to see. It's all the worse that in this case it’s being seen by the featured star of your guilty pleasure himself.

“There’s no shame in being a fan.” 

“No, but it’s different to collect memorabilia and merchandise of a beloved superhero that you don’t ever expect to witness the madness and to actually have him see it all and feel objectified. As if all there was to him is just the plastic he can sell with his face on it.”

You don’t know why you’re getting into the heavy-duty topic of someone’s worth and value but maybe part of you just wants to present yourself as someone who cares. Someone who looks beyond the obvious. 

Homelander is similarly perturbed by your words. Clearly not used to fans taking such direction with him. Thinking about it you doubt he hears more from them beyond a predictable can I have a selfie?

He furrows his eyebrows for a second tilting his head. As if he’s trying to look into your brain to read your mind. And sure he can literally see inside your skull but it doesn’t help him understand your thoughts. So instead he digs deeper. Putting the glass of milk down he looks you straight in the eyes. 

“You don’t think that’s it?” 

His resolute question makes you pause, feeling as if you overstepped. And even if, there’s no way to backtrack anymore so you continue. “O-of course not. I know you’re more than what Vought puts out there.”

You’ve spent countless hours following the content Vought markets out to the public. All of it manicured to match his perfect brand and profile. They’re slick enough to control even the content fans put out. From conventions to random street encounters. You remember following a thread of an anonymous fan sharing their experience of getting barraged by Vought’s lawyers after they shared a post about a poor experience they had meeting one of their superheroes. You haven’t heard an update from that story in a while, god knows what happened to the fan. Maybe Vought’s lawyers managed to get their anonymous account too. 

“How would you know?” Irritation seeps into his tone, shoulders tensing, feeling exposed right before he slides back into his normal casual tone and body language as if remembering that he’s meant to be talking to a date and not some nosy interviewer trying to get the next scoop.

“I mean who hasn’t put up a face to show the world their perfect self? Whether it’s on dates or in front of friends. I just imagine that doing that in front of the whole world means there’s a lot you feel like you have to hide.” With each word you feel like you’re digging yourself a hole, ruining any chance of another date. But you’ve started saying your piece and when else are you gonna get the chance to tell the man exactly how you feel?

So you continue.

“I just think it has to be exhausting. Your entire job, your life is existing in the public eye and you can’t ever slip up? Not super-abled celebrities deal with that already but for you there’s the added burden of being seen as the superhero right? ‘Here to save us all’. I just mean, do you ever get to be yourself?”

You mean to be sympathetic, not that you could ever imagine what it’s like to be in his shoes. Being as obsessed as you are, you've watched all the footage with him. You notice how often the same lines repeat, how well he’s perfected the mask of a perfect hero. The fake humble you’re the real heroes being repeated in every video and appearance. If it was you, you know you’d have enough a while ago now. The daily grind of a job is exhausting enough but to do that all under the public’s scrutiny? You couldn’t even imagine. 

You were so lost in your little monologue, spilling all the little thoughts you had about him and his persona that you miss how his casual demeanor has once again shifted into something else. He’s less irritated but he’s tense. Even more so than before. He wears an expression you’re pretty sure you’ve not seen on him before. His jaw may not be dropped but his surprise and confusion is evident without it. 

He’s speechless. Thinking about it now, has anyone ever spoken to him in such manner before?

You watch his body language and the way he’s squeezing the fork so hard you’re sure he’s bent the metal. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. It’s just once I get going I can’t stop!” 

He lets out a breathless little laugh. His shoulders release in tension. He stops gripping the cutlery and sure enough it has a bend that definitely wasn’t there before but you don’t care. He’s not pissed. He raises his free hand waving you off and stopping you from apologizing any further. Something you’ve managed to do about a hundred times since his arrival. 

“No. No, it’s fine. You didn’t.” He shakes his head a little, looking at you with a different look in his eyes. No longer just looking for a little bit of excitement, now he’s truly locked in. What else can he get you to say? “Well maybe you did a little, but color me intrigued anyway.” 

He looks at you in a way that makes you feel small. You feel like you’re on your knees praying for your god to hear out your prayers knowing it’s unlikely for him to even notice you.  

“Can't say I've heard any of that before.” He concludes, slumping back into the chair now that he's relaxed again, having lost all interest in the food you've served up.

You’re embarrassed by the call out. It’s like all your efforts to not appear like another crazy fan have been pointless. He might not seem angry but that doesn’t mean he’s about to jump at the thought of another date. You may have ruined your chances at this being anything more than mild entertainment to him so you try to save yourself. “I just mean. I have always wanted to get to know you. The you without the cameras.”

“You already have. I don’t go on dates with many fans, believe it or not. And I gotta say you’re a lot more interesting than I gave you credit for.” 

And maybe it wasn’t such a lost cause yet. Have there been many people that Homelander has ever found genuinely interesting? You wouldn’t know but at least you’re one of them.

“Oh…ah-hah thank you.” You fluster under his heavy gaze. His words make your heart skip a beat. There’s very little that can match the euphoria of your hero, the hero really, saying he finds you interesting. It’s hard to calm the pounding of your heart at the thought of a man of his caliber seeking your company out.

After all you’ve managed to blurt out you feel more at ease. It’s not awkward like you expected it to be. In a way you’ve broken the ice you didn’t know was even there.

With you both losing interest or having had enough of your meals you move to the small but comfortable couch. And like any good dinner and movie date you put on the first title that gets advertised to you on the main page of the Vought+ streaming platform.

In reality the movie doesn’t get watched. Either you let it play in the background or you pause on sections just so you can continue the conversation between the two of you. And somehow it’s still mainly you literally just rambling on about him. It’s not that he doesn’t talk or doesn’t ask questions about you but you see the way he preens at all the enamored praise you send his way. 

The only parts that do get watched is the small cameo Homelander ended up having in the title and the conversation steers back to him. He gives you all the details you ask for, more than happy to talk about how great of an actor he is. 

With each minute of sitting close to him you feel your body respond to him. You feel hot. Too warm for the cardigan you’re wearing but you don’t want to seem too forward by taking it off. Especially after knowing what kind of trouble he could get up to in between your legs it makes it very hard to accidentally brush against his thigh and not spontaneously combust.

Homelander turns around to look back into the room while you’re dealing with your internal turmoil. Would it be too unseemly for you to initiate?

Your thoughts are interrupted when his bare hand cradles your jaw, bringing you in for a kiss. The whimper you let out is embarrassing but you quickly lose track of anything that’s not his hot lips melting you into a puddle. Just as things are about to get good, just when you’re about to pry his lips open with your needy tongue he pulls away. He doesn’t go too far. You can still feel his hot breath while he rests his forehead against yours. 

“I’ll have to set off. I need to get back to Vought tower.” He hums so close to you that you get goosebumps from the way his voice turns all low and hushed. Even though the words he’s saying are anything but good news, the attractive sound still soothes you.

“Oh-kay.” You nod. A little sad but understanding that he’s got things to get to. Every part of you is holding back from pulling him in for more but as much as your fingers twitch for him you restrain yourself.

“Come on now. Don’t sound so upset.” He gives your cheek a soft little pat before placing another peck on your lips with a chuckle from behind his closed lips.

The taste of your lips pulls him in anyway and he holds you close for a few more indulgent kisses. Upon separating you’re warm and flustered. His touch always seems to have that effect on you. 

“It's just… I had a lot of fun today.” And you don't want it to be over or for it to be the last time you see him. But how do you ask him out? 

While your limbs still feel like jelly, having melted into the couch, he stands up, walking over to the little dining table where he left his discarded gloves, pulling them back on.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll be back.” He clearly reads your expression and watches as you stumble while getting up, clearly wanting to see him out before he flies off.

His words alone are good enough to lift your spirits and you let yourself show that joy outwardly.

“Thanks for today.” When’s the last time you’ve ever felt this in the moment? Even if he never came back this moment would easily be a highlight you look back on.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” As if he couldn’t restrain himself his eyes snapped in between your eyes and lips, his eyelashes fluttering, lips parting as he took in the sight of you. So eager to please and be there for him. He wets his lips and your stomach flips at the display. The pink of his tongue disappearing as quickly as it appears.

His eyes soften, lips stretching into a lazy lopsided smile.

“Do I get a goodbye kiss?” 

And just like that with one last kiss he’s off again, returning to his duties.

This isn’t where things end with you two. If anything, your life takes a massive turn. It’s not been the same ever since you’ve won that silly competition. And it strangely makes you want to send a gift basket to whoever organized it, no matter how much you dislike Vought itself. 

At first he comes back to you seeking comfort.

He strolls in through your balcony door which you’ve gotten into the habit of leaving unlocked—just in case. It’s not like there’s anyone else eager to fly into your home. You awake at the disruption, eyes bleary and straining in the harsh light of the nightstand lamp you’ve turned on to see what’s going on.

He doesn’t explain himself as much as he just vents to you about how he’s not being respected and taken seriously. It’s the first time he’s been back since your date and you’re surprised to see him so emotive. So unlike the perfect persona or even the carefully charming guy he presented himself as during  your date.

He’s already pacing back and forth, the thud of his boots bound to disturb your neighbors below. Not that either of you care. He’s too preoccupied with being angry. And you’re too frazzled by the thought of something upsetting your hero to this degree.

You see the angry tremor in his hands and the sharpness of his teeth, highlighted by the yellow night light. You snap out of the sleepy daze and you catch his gloved hand when he paces in front of you. 

You pull him down next to you, cooing supportive words and showing your own anger at seeing him be so disrespected by Vought. You believe they don’t know how lucky they are to have someone like him. They should revere him, yet the things he lets slip in his anger make your chest tight, fueling the rage simmering inside you. 

It’s like seeing you riled up at the way he’s being mistreated is enough to calm him down. The more you seethe the more he cools down, the energy exchange working in between you perfectly. He’s pleased to have someone in his corner. Preening at how much you parrot the words he’s saying without needing to nudge you in that direction.

Swoop-in visits like these happen more regularly. Either he comes in irritated wanting to get some frustration and anger out, fucking you throughout the night until all he can think of are your moans and cries telling him it’s too much.

Or he comes in happy, excited to share the news that his numbers are up or that the public and the on-scene reporters couldn’t stop praising him after his latest save. Those days he comes in for affection and a cuddle, wanting to hear over and over again just how well he’s done since you’ve last seen him. Treating you less like a stress ball and more like a teddy bear he’s hugged against his chest in comfort. 

You start thinking how lonely he must feel. The thought that there aren’t any people around him showering him with genuine love and friendship hurts you and suddenly you want nothing more than to keep him here with you, making sure he knows just how special he is.

As much as you’ve always been devoted to this god-like being and the idea that he represented, you never got to love the person. Until now. Now the ideology alone has seeped into your never ending love, fueling the suffocating adoration you hold for him. So strong it’s eating away at you anytime you don’t get the chance to scream how much you love him.

You used to see these late night visits as something he does for his own benefit. With you always being the easiest and most effective balm to his troubled soul. You didn’t think he was serious with you. After all, this is the Homelander you’re spending every other evening with. 

So when he sends you flowers out of nowhere, effectively courting you, you start thinking that this might be turning into something real.

It starts with the first delivery at your door. A gorgeous bouquet bursting at the seams, tagged with a note saying it’s from Homelander. Since then he’s made sure to supply you with the most beautiful bouquets as if to keep a reminder of him on a daily basis. You finally invest in a pretty vase, knowing it’s going to be thoroughly used and displayed.

Your home always had touches of Homelander throughout it—some might even say too many. However, as your relationship grows you come to a realization that those really only represent Vought. It’s these new touches that really represent Homelander’s presence in your life. Like how he times the flower deliveries just right so your place is never empty. Always there to remind you to keep him at the forefront of your mind. Never wavering. 

You two haven’t officially said that you’re dating throughout these nighttime visits but it’s at the tip of your tongue each time he comes. You want to voice the love you carry for him like a burden. Overflowing from your arms with nowhere to go. And it feels like each second you don’t say it, it’s being uselessly spilled on the floor like sand falling from in-between your fingers.

Homelander has his own way of showing affection. Seeing as so much of his life has been in front of some sort of camera you wonder if thinking in advertising scripts and photoshoot visuals comes to him more naturally than casual and real gestures. As ever since he started with the flower deliveries he’s been showering you with gifts upon each visit. As if everyday had to be Valentine’s day and he had to bring something to symbolize the reason for his visit.

You call him out on that one day. 

“You know you don’t have to bring anything right? You don’t need to bribe me.” You chuckle at the gift box he brought with him. You’ve got dozens of similar gift boxes and bags that you feel reluctant to get rid of mainly for the sentimental value but the retail price associated with the gift they hold certainly doesn’t help. 

He clasps the gifted necklace around your neck. The dainty chain lays cold against your skin and your fingers gently caress the pendant with care. Your statement still rings true but you can’t help but feel giddy every time he brings you something he thought would look great on you. 

“Do you not like the things I bring you?” With a perplexed expression you see him trying to do mental math, trying to figure out why you could possibly not kneel or bow in gratitude. He watches you play with your new pretty jewelry with a squint. 

“No! It’s all beautiful—this one especially—just. I don’t want you to feel like that’s an obligatory part of you being here.” You laugh it off a little, still dreamily thinking about what it really means to get pampered to this degree. 

He breaks your thoughts with a simple sentence.

“Maybe I want to treat my girl.” 

Your eyes widen, and you let out a shocked stuttered breath.

“Your girl?”

“Yeah, duh.” He scoffs as if what he said is as obvious as the sky being blue and water wet.

“Because you’re mine, right?” You don’t see the way his eyes reflect his own complicated and simmering feelings. The tension in his jaw betrays how he needs you to acknowledge his words and speak them into an existence. But you don’t notice any of that because it’s like the dam you’ve been doing your best to hold together with safety pins finally bursts.

You’re nodding feverishly. No longer able to hold back you’re possessed to blurt out the words that have been threatening to fall off the precipice of your tongue for weeks. 

“I love you.” 

Homelander’s eyes widen. Surprised by your admission just as much as you are. Your heart is racing, suddenly feeling insane for thinking this was anything more than simple fun to him. The knee-jerk response to apologize spills easily from your lips.

“I’m sorry—,” but instead he interrupts you by cradling your jaw in his bare hands, stepping closer.

“Don’t be sorry.” He says in a low rumble, sending shivers down your spine. He leans in to give you a tender kiss. Just barely slotting in between your parted lips, pressing them against his. Before you get the chance to continue he pulls away with enough distance to speak up.

He breathes out, eyes squeezed shut in longing which to an untrained eye would just look like pure pain and frustration. But not to you. You’ve learned to read him better. 

He nuzzles his face against yours, dragging his lips across your cheek until he reaches your ear, growling a weak, “say it again.”

You’ve partially gotten used to the timbre of his voice in your ear. Capable of having a conversation without getting worked up by every word he says but the way he’s now needily begging in your ear has your body erupt in goosebumps. He doesn’t need to say please for you to hear it anyway.

“I-I love you.” You whimper out. The emotion alone feels thick in your throat, as if it was clogging up your airways anytime you come up for air. Your heart is pounding, you’re strung up, the butterflies in your stomach make you antsy. 

His hold on your jaw tightens. With a sharp intake of breath he smashes your lips together. No longer composed and tender. Your teeth nearly clash as he’s pressed you close to him. He’s prying your lips open with his, his whimpers easily falling into the press of your lips.

“Again.” 

“I love you.”

You don’t want to cry but you’re so overwhelmed with emotion the burn that turns your eyes glassy spills over and you’re dripping tears down your cheeks in pure emotional instability.

“Again.” 

And each time he asks he sounds more wrecked. 

“I love you.”

Homelander catches the tears with his tongue right before kissing the salty taste into your mouth. Not letting any of your love get wasted. You grab onto him, grasping where you can. Your hands tangle in between his as you wrap them around his neck. One hand grips as much of the fabric of his suit it can while the other tangles in his hair, pulling on it for support more than anything. 

You feel like you’re drowning. The intensity of the moment makes you gasp for air but it’s like Homelander kisses it back into your lungs like a lifeline. Hearing his shattered whimpers soothes you, his own need fueling yours, filling the void your tears are leaving behind.

He lifts you up and with practiced ease you automatically wrap your legs around him.

He leads you both to the bedroom while he’s continuously prompting you to continue declaring your love to him. Each again, again, again you reward with the three words that make him feverish and mad. The more you say it the less your heart feels like it’s about to explode from the burden it’s been carrying for too long.

Homelander quite literally rips your clothes off, not caring that he’s leaving his own recent purchases in tatters. He doesn’t want to separate his lips from your neck where he’s kissing trails across each inch of your skin.

You don’t have the luxury to treat his suit with the same carelessness. Even if you wanted to, the tough molded material would make it impossible. Instead you do what you can. Unclasping his belt, pulling at the front of his suit, pushing his pants down where you can reach.

He helps you with taking off the rest of it until he’s on top of you, skin to skin. You rarely get the luxury of lying with him fully stripped and each time you’re shocked at how hot he runs. Now his hot body is making you melt under the heat alone.

Neither of you have stopped kissing with the same intense need that has been laying there dormant for months. Anytime you have the chance you repeat the same words over and over again until they’re all you know how to say.

It’s the first time sex has felt anything more than a physical relief he comes to you for. You’re barely keeping it together as he nudges your legs a little open, sliding his hand down your body, his palm blazing hot as the anticipation makes you clench your core.

It’s by no means either one of your first times, nor it is the first time you’ve been together yet you’ve never felt more nervous. The first touch he descends onto your clit feels like a lightning bolt crackling down your spine, spreading the tingles out to your toes and fingertips.

“Ahh hah—fuck. Want it so bad, don’t you?” He looks as broken as he sounds when he hisses at the feeling of your soaked pussy. It makes his fingers glide too easily, making it harder to give your clit the precise rhythm he’s learned to make you see stars with. 

His attempt at his normal dirty talk is disrupted by his keen moans and broken whimpers. Part of you wonders whether his super senses include being able to feel other people’s sensations with the way he’s acting as if it was him getting his body set on fire.  

You hum and ahh in response, your tongue feeling incapable of saying anything but the words you’ve been finally allowed to repeat over and over again. 

His fingers easily slip inside the sloppy mess you’ve made for him and he moans right into the kiss he leans in to steal from your lips. And it feels good. The friction is perfect, his fingers are hitting the right spot inside you and the loud squelch is embarrassing and intoxicating in equal parts. Yet it’s not what you want.

It takes all your strength to reach down and pull his hand out of you, as instinctively you’re already clenching around the all too familiar emptiness you whine at every other time when he’s done with you. 

“I want you. Please. Just you.” You manage to breathe out, your hand reaching over for his hard cock. You give him a few shaky strokes, smearing his leaking precum across the entire length.

“Alright. Uh huh, okay. I’ll give it to you.” And he’s just as out of it as you as his normal cocky one-liners just break into a lot of grunts and stutters.

He wedges himself in between your thighs, spreading them wide open. His lips part with a wistful sigh while his eyes haze over with lust at the sight of your pussy spread ope, generously glistening with slick all made for him. 

He aligns his cock with your entrance, not even bothering to tease you. He’s just as strung out as you are. He splits you open with a single thrust, your slick pulling him in with an easy glide.

“I love you.” For the first time the confession spills from Homelander’s lips. A relief just as palpable falls upon him. It’s a different story for you. The words cause more tears to spill, a wet hiccup leaving your throat as you clench around him.

“Shh, shh.” He hushes you sweetly, already reaching back for you. 

He lays his body flush on top of yours and kisses your tears away, the heat and weight of his body on top yours grounds you. He repeats the words over and over again in between wet, messy kisses. He ruts into you in shallow thrusts as if he doesn’t want to part from you any second longer.

Nothing in the world exists but you two and neither one of you can believe how perfect you really are for each other. You’ve always felt like the way you love was overwhelming. It left the other person choking on the overwhelming viscosity of it all. Homelander isn’t like that. To him your love is a breath of fresh air. 

As long as you love him with the same unyielding intensity he’s yours. At this point, he wouldn’t know how to live without it.

He kisses you in a way that says just that. Needy and broken yet utterly completed by you. 

You’re both so worked up with the overflowing emotions it doesn’t take much more than his frenzied grinding to make you both reach the release that’s as emotional as it physical. Maybe even more so.

Because the reward isn’t just a good orgasm. It’s the love that fills the air, spilling into every empty crevice you didn’t manage to fill with your bodies.

Homelander’s whimpers resemble cries as he finishes inside you right as you flutter around him with the toe-curling orgasm wracking your nerves. 

It takes you a little while to regain your mental faculties after such an emotionally draining affair. You feel boneless, your limbs feel like jelly and you just lie there dazed. Focusing on the way your heart beats loud even to your ears. 

Homelander is doing the same thing. Listening to your heartbeat with his head on your chest.

After a long while you both pull yourself together. Still in bed but now you’ve managed to strike up a normal conversation again. Talking about everything and nothing.

You lie like this for what feels like hours. Having changed positions you rest your head against his chest, ear pressed to his pecs to listen in on the steady beat of his heart.

After this reveal your brain recognizes your relationship as the utmost priority. Because of that your eyes lock onto the Kuddle Buddy plush resting just a foot away from Homelander’s head. As if you were locking onto an enemy. You pluck it from the pillow, squeezing it in your hand.

You’re staring at it, still clutching it too hard. 

“What got you thinking so hard? You’re making my head hurt from how tense you are.” Homelander interrupts you from your thoughts. 

“Just you. This. I can’t look at this stuff these days without—I don’t know—rage? To know how much Vought has wronged you.” You furrow your eyebrows, assessing the innocent plush toy while it’s staring back at you with its stitched grimace.

“That’s what the toy reminds you of, really? It should remind you of me.”

“It doesn’t anymore.” Your furrowed expression slowly melts into one of content as your hand presses against your new necklace. “Things like these do.” 

“And these.” Your fingers continue to travel up your neck where they tap at the darkened patches you feel he has left behind. With soft nipping and sucking he left your neck coloured in all shades.

He plucks the plush toy from your hands, throwing it somewhere across the room with thankfully not enough strength to knock anything else over. You’re pretty damn comfortable and you’d rather not get up to assess any damage. 

“Maybe I should give you more reminders then.” 

You squeal as he easily pulls you up so his lips can meet yours, kissing your worries out of your mind.

Homelander lands on your balcony with a soft thud. It’s late in the afternoon, earlier than he normally arrives, and he doesn’t want to attract unwanted attention. Already predicting the shit Madelyn would put him through if he got caught regularly perusing outside some random person’s apartment.

His person’s apartment really. You’re not just a random boring nobody.

He makes his way in quietly, closing the door and stepping in. Each time coming back to your apartment has felt more like coming home than he’s ever felt at Vought. You’ve arranged your life around him. He’s noticed you cancel plans, call off events just so you could stay in in the evening, waiting for him to make his return.

You even make space for him in your small apartment. The state of which he’d normally scoff at but it’s hard to mock your financial situation when you manage to make the place feel warm.

His presence left its mark in the gifts you happily displayed or the flowers you always took good care of.

And of course, the insane collection of merchandise you’ve spent years accumulating.

Wait.

Where is everything?

Homelander looks around, breaking out of his routine and instead he scans the surroundings as if it’s the first time he’s ever been here. Only now does he realize that all the usual merchandise carrying his likeness is gone. No posters on the walls. No action figures on the shelves. No funko pops. No collectibles. Nothing.

Homelander feels his blood pressure rise. There’s no way you’d want to get rid of him. Not you too. You love him. You wouldn’t do that.

He finally notices the black trash bags pushed into the kitchen, still open and overflowing with all the things missing from your walls. 

His stomach flips. 

No. Nonono. This can’t be happening.

You can’t get rid of him like this. He can’t lose you. 

Not after he’s finally tasted what real love in cooking tastes like. Or what it’s like to wake up next to someone who instead isn’t pushing you away straight after sex. Someone who makes an effort for him. Not out of fear but out of love. 

He mentally compares everything you’ve changed his perception on. 

Like when you give him a gift or help him out it’s different. Vought employees being at his beck and call could never compare. 

He’s the most powerful man in the world, with means that don’t feel like they have an end yet he could never buy the love you give freely. For once, love doesn’t feel like pulling teeth. It feels like a warm embrace on a cold winter night. 

You make it easy. You don’t fake it. And most importantly you do it unconditionally. Love him through thick and thin, the devotion to him a part of your very core. Your love is overwhelming, oozing and sticky like he’s never gonna be able to get rid of it. Just like you could never get rid of him.

You’re the only one who hasn’t left him.

Exactly. It can’t be. You wouldn’t.

This has to be some kind of a mistake.

The shuffle of your slippers against the floor breaks him out of his spiraling thoughts. He looks up sharply. Seeking some sort of explanation.

“Hey baby. You’re early today—what’s wrong?” The smile drops from your face as quickly as he sees it and it’s only then he realizes his hand is shaking. He squeezes it into a fist, the leather creaking with the pressure as he takes in a labored breath with a jittery shake to his head.

“W-uh-what is… What are you doing?” He blinks rapidly, shaking his head pretending that his voice doesn’t quiver and waver the way it does. 

“Bit of spring cleaning. After we talked the other night I just can’t look at this stuff and not think how much Vought has used you. I don’t want those reminders. It’s not what I thought it was and now that you opened my eyes to it, I can’t forget. So. Out with it.” You say so casually, not picking up on the panic he’s been going through in his head.

“Oh—okay.” He lets out a visible breath of relief, his posture relaxing. “I thought—” His jaw tightens and he looks away. Thought so heartbreaking, he doesn't want to give it voice.

“You thought I was getting rid of you?” You stop what you are doing. Putting the box on the couch and instead you walk up to him, hand on his jaw you turn him back to look at you.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” You kiss him, and Homelander melts right into it. He lets himself melt into the loving embrace of your pliant lips.

“Good. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” When you pull away he puts his hands on your jaw, tilting your head as if he was inspecting you. Seeing if what you’re saying is true. And he can’t see a single speck of a lie with the steady beats of your heart and the taste of love on your lips.

“So what are you doing with all of it?”

“Selling it, donating or trashing some I guess.”

“Why not sell it all?”

“You can buy a Homelander poster or card at any shop for a few bucks. I'm not gonna bother with those.”

“What if I sign them?”

“Oh please don’t waste your time. You’re not here to be a show pony.”

“Nonsense, come on. Bring it out.”

Homelander ends up taking the stack of posters with his or the Seven’s likeness from the top of the trash bag, placing them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He sits down, hooking his cape out of the way. He picks up a pen off the table already signing the first poster. 

Part of him is still upset that you feel like throwing a part of him away. Is this part of him not good enough for you anymore? It’s how he found you, how he got to know you and now it feels like you’re throwing it away. 

As if you could read his thoughts you sit down next to him, placing your hand on top of his as he’s halfway through his signature.

His head snaps up towards you, expression clearly guarded while he looks you over with his piercing blue gaze.

He carries his upset so visibly it would be hard even for someone as unaware as you to miss it. His smile is tight, not even attempting to reach his eyes.

You pull the pen out of his grip, instead wrapping your hand around his. The other one goes to his hair, scratching your nails down his scalp until you reach his undercut where you play with the shortly buzzed hair.

“I’m not getting rid of you. Not now. Not ever.”

At that he leans into you, nearly purring at the pleasure your scalp massage brings him. The way you touch him with no hesitation will never cease to amaze him. There’s enough love pouring off you to almost fill the black hole in his heart. 

It was exhilarating to have someone so eager to keep him in their life. Everyone else has just pushed him away, entertained him until they got what they wanted. Not you. You give and give and give. Sometimes he’s scared you’ll run out of love to shower him with. However, one look at you tells him that the love you carry feels just as much of a burden as his need for it does to him. You free each other by sharing the love. You feed his insatiable beast of a heart and he lets you burst the dam free without feeling like you’re not allowed to.  

The posters are forgotten about. Any hurt brushed away with a press of his lips to yours. Needy and hungry, wanting to see if you can prove your words with actions. Again and again.

And you do. Like you’ve done a hundred times before and just like you will do thousands of times over.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged when I post a new Homelander fic)

@morishitoshi @ker0senebunny @itsvaleriesucka @thychuvaluswife

@nervoussystemss @littlegaaby @natliecole @thatvintagefanboy

@infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @hom3landr @mrsdesade

@nommingonfood

[vi0let-writes]

Alright then, may I request Cyno, Xiao and AlHaitham. S/o pranking them, you know that one period prank girlfriend do on their boyfriend?, telling them to go by her some pads with wings. To see what they actually get for her (like would they actually understand the assignment or actually got her pads with Chiken wings thinking that's what s/o meant) or even told them to buy non-existent feminine products for example "help me buy the Super Jumbo Tampons with Wings✨✨✨" that kind of stuff. This is just crack request, wanting to trick these innocent stoic guys hehe~ 😈😈😈 this can be a modern au if you want

The dividers I used are here

thank you SM for the request!!!! This is such a silly idea! There is a screenshot of the messages for each one, and then a written part below, so make sure you don’t miss that!

characters: Alathiam, Cyno, Xiao

includes: Crack, fluff

Alhathiam

“I’m home” Alhathiams voice sounds as he walked through the front door. He made his way into the living room, where you sat on the couch, reading a book. You looked up, seeing your boyfriend with a shopping bag in one hand, and a takeout box in the other.

“oh! Did you get me food too? You’re so sweet!” You cheered happily. He rose his eyebrows confused.

“yeah, the wings you wanted?” He confirmed, his face obviously filled with confusion. You paused for a moment, before realizing that he misinterpreted the request, you then started crackling out in laughter.

“y-you.. thought I mean.. HAhAhaHa! Chicken wings?!” You wheezed out.

“what..?”

“let me see the pads you got.” He nodded, handing you the package over. “Baby, look, here on the package, it says ‘winged’ that’s what I meant” you giggled, taking one out and showing him. “Here, these flaps wrap around to keep them in place.” He looked utterly embarrassed.

“yeah.. I knew that.. I- I.. uh just wanted food..” he tried to play it off.

“it’s okay! I’ll go get these put away and then we can cuddle and eat these!” Alhathiam nodded, ears still red.

Xiao

“Love” a voice suddenly appeared behind you, causing you to jump.

“Xiao! Hi” you sighed out. He fell into your arms, face hiding away from you.

“I’ve failed you..” he grumbled out. “I couldn’t find the feminin product you requested.” You laughed, feeling kinda bad.

“it’s okay sweetie, I was just joking with you! Now I feel bad…” you ran your hands gently through his hair.

“what.. why? I went to 5 different places,people staring at me rummaging through things, and being sad for a silly prank? You have no respect for the Adepti..” he huffed, letting go of you and crossing his arms.

“no Xiao! I’m sorry.. come here, we can cuddle.” You apologized. He just rolled his eyes.

“fine.. only for a bit. I’m a busty person.”

Cyno

Cyno trudged through the front door, and to you in a hurry, 3 bags in his hands. When he came bursting through your bedroom door, your eyes widened in concern.

“Cy, what?” You questioned.

“I’m sorry, I took so long because I went to like 10 places trying to find the ones you mentioned; but I couldn’t… so I just got a bunch of them, you could stack them!” He reasoned, putting the bags down on the bed, revealing MANY boxes of pads. Your eyes widened again in surprise, before you laughed.

“Cy, you don’t stack them for one, also I was pranking you..” your smile was wide. He was quite for a second.

“oh.. haha, darling, I left work! For a prank?!” He sighed. ”what? You could have said that you were working!” A frown appeared on your face.

“hmm, it’s okay, but what do we do with all of these?” He motioned to the pads.

“I’ll use those eventually.” You bummed out a response. “Why don’t we play TCG to make up for it” Cyno pondered your proposal.

”I suppose I could take the rest of the day off”

Hope this was good!

you can leave requests in the “ask me anything”

my list of fandoms is pinned in my blog.

[romana-after-dark]

WIP wednessday

thank you @princessanglophile for tagging! i never remember to do these but im actually writing rn

This is for chapter 3 of Be Quiet, my dark!logan x reader series! (see pinned post)

“Remy ain’t coming.” He blurts out, ready to break the news of the date as bluntly as possible to make him look worse, but when he saw the worry on your face he read your mind. “He had to go take care of business, he’s fine though.” Watching the relief on your face made him annoyingly jealous. “Sorry he had to miss your uh…” Logan glanced around the room. “Date, I guess.” He likes hearing you giggle, even if he thinks it might be at him. “Did he call it a date?” “Well… no…” Why did he feel so flustered with you? “Good. It’s hardly a date. I have higher standards than sharing a sandwich in my classroom.” Despite his protests, you lay half your sandwich on his side of the desk. He couldn't say no to you. “Remy eats lunch with me sometimes, keeps me company. As a friend, if you were wondering.” He was. There was a comfortable silence as Logan ate the sandwich you gave me, doing everything he could to not hum as he delighted in it. How did you make a simple caprese sandwich taste so good? How did he get roped into sharing a meal with you when he was supposed to keep his distance? “You’re good with them.” He mumbles with his mouth half full. When you look up with confusion he elaborates. “The kids, I mean. They like you. I can see it, and I’ve heard others talking.” This makes you blush, looking away as you deflect the compliment. “Thank you, it’s probably the only thing I’m qualified to do.” “I’m sure that’s not true. Were you a teacher before you came here?” “I wasn’t anything before I came here.”

Hope yall like!!!!

np tags @toxicanonymity @koshkaj-blog @beefrobeefcal @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @melodygatesauthor @ariundercovers @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @commonmisery @winniethewife

[valewritessss]

Every time someone says they hate Annabeth and Percabeth in the sense that they think they’re toxic, I have to start guessing if they ship Pernico, Percy x Apollo, and it pains me to say because I know people get mad but Perachel.

[thisischeri]

Apple Pro Mouse, 2000

instagram: cheri.png

[i-may-be-an-emu]

Some of my favourite out of context sfth ao3 tags because these are so funny (also all of these are from different fics)

Disclaimer that these aren’t mine :)

[ao3screenshotss]

i gave up on buying the official tgcf books and i’m just reading a fan translation online so i don’t know if it’s just that but why is the novel SO HILARIOUS just the delivery of some lines makes me wheeze

[alarrylarrie]

.

[aheathen-conceivably]

Ok so I read the post on your thoughts on Gio and the American Dream and I hate to say it … as an immigrant, I understand him.

I also come from a culture where women tend to their male partner's needs and I don't believe he wants to turn Jo into a subservient wife. He fell in love with a lively, free, and wild Jo and loves that aspect of her.

At the end of the day she loves him too so why would she leave? I understand she doesn't like to be dependent of him but where else would she go? There are no parties or glamour, which was her whole thing, anymore. At least the farm offers stability in the economic crisis.

Point is, I understand Gio as an immigrant, but don't understand Jo as a woman.

BABES! We’ve got another one…

(As in me being touched and having no other means to say how much I love y’all takes other than to give them a standing ovation in GIF form).

But you know…there’s a whole lot to break down here, friend, especially about Jo. I think you know what that means! Under the cut we go….

First and foremost, I very much appreciate you saying you understand that aspect of Gio. I did in part write him as a commentary on the immigrant experience in America (filtered through his own personality/character of course), and so to know that is relatable means a lot to me. I don’t think it’s a spoiler to tell y’all his journey is far from over, and you can already see the cracks in his outlook beginning to form. Whenever Jo is depressed he says this quite vividly:

Because you are very, very correct. This isn’t about molding Jo into some subservient housewife, or even eroding those exact qualities that he loves in her. This is about Gio attempting to square what he’s been taught/believes will bring his life happiness and meaning with his own experience and emotions. It’s about the myth of the American dream and the perfect housewife and the very real struggle of those things existing as actual, lived realities.

Because at the root of it, Gio is amalgamating an understanding of his own family unit and what he knows he doesn’t want in this country. He has seen another methods of “making it” in America, and so he thinks if only he can make the “right” choices, he can avoid that, and become the respected and happy man that he wants to be.

Now onto Jo, boy oh boy, Jo….

I think one of the core misunderstandings here is that Jo wants stability. This is kind of the crux built into her desire for control and her never-ending failure to achieve it. She wants to control her surroundings, to make sure nothing and no one can hurt her, but she also wants to feel in a way that is hard to find in a stable, heavily domesticated life. On the flip side, despite whatever imaginary dream Gio has, he’s the same way. They both want a life filled with excitement and new experiences, new people and rushes of emotions. This is one of the ways they differ heavily from Antoine and Zelda.

Now on one level, this is simply the way Josephine is. She’s high energy, fun loving, and insatiable. But on a deeper level, this is tied into her experiences not only as a woman, but as a daughter. She has a brief moment of clarity in that last post where she realizes:

Now I have chosen not to go too in-depth on Josephine’s trauma, but you can see her lay out the course of events here and also her deep hesitation to any of it here. Josephine is still only a teenager in that second post. Her mother not only told her things like that (“this is the weight that prejudice and expectation have placed upon us”) but also “what do you want to be then? Some glorified maid to a man?” (Which, frankly, I can write another Ted Talk about the juxtaposition here, but I think ya'll can pull some threads).

So when you see Josephine’s struggle with control, this is heavily rooted in bodily autonomy. Now all things considered, Josephine has managed to make great strides toward reclaiming this and reasserting not only her sexuality, but also her sense of self in her body. Gio knows this. We see him recognize and respect it quite clearly in that last post. He’s been part of that process for her, and that only adds another element of love, trust, and safety between them.

But on a fundamental level, neither Gio nor Josephine has made the connection between that trauma, her own personality, and why she hates her life now so much:

Here’s the issue right now: Josephine doesn’t feel like she’s living her own life. We have seen how she would like to live in the 20s not just in the parties and glamour, but when she was managing bands. She wants to be fulfilled professionally, through helping people/places she believes in and bettering her own life by bettering theirs. That’s how she gets her joy, and that’s what she would chose to do if given the chance.

And right now, she does not feel like she gets to chose. You’re correct in that part of that is coming from the current economic situation. Again, she sees that herself here. She knows what demons are waiting outside her window, and how easily poverty can make them rearise. That only makes it worse. It doesn’t make the smell of bread (domestic security) any better or more comforting. It makes it bitter, because she didn’t chose it. She was backed into a corner by circumstance (and, as she can sense, by the choices men made for her without telling her), and now she feels like she can’t say no. That’s her ultimate trigger.

Now whether or not that loss of control is simply perceived, or should be offset by how “lucky” she is to be in a stable position in such precarious economic times, we might all have different options on. Even more, I’m sure each of us would answer differently for ourselves in that situation. I know I would. But for Josephine? Not only is this a life she will never find joy in, because even without her trauma, she is an ambitious, restless, and outgoing person with different goals for herself; but that added memory and pain makes her reaction to it all the more volatile.

Perhaps most importantly, Jo feels as though her life is being controlled again, whether by Gio, the reality of the world outside her window, or by her own guilt/love that makes her feel beholden to the people around her (just like it did to her mother). Because you’re right, she does love him. She wouldn’t leave because she doesn’t. If she leaves now, it would leave because she panicked, because she feels like she’s lost all the autonomy she worked so hard to regain and she’ll never feel the fulfillment she felt when she was successfully independent ever again. That’s the element I hope we can understand, even if it’s not what we would do.