#like my roommates are okay with one movie about X but not 10 like i want | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marcsburnerphone · 1 month ago

Text

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: separation, John being John.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7 - part 8 - Part 9 - part 10 - part 11 - part 12 - part 13 - part 14

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh my god i’ve missed you!” your sister says as she gets into your car at the train station and although a piece of home has left it also feels like a piece has come home.

“Thankyou for coming.” you smile pulling her into an uncomfortable hug over the center counsel.

“Coffee and a good movie that perhaps includes phone time?” she says as you pull away.

“Good god you mastermind.” you two laugh while backing out of the busy parking lot.

“So tell me everything, like what the hell this is?” she asks while grabbing the photo strip of you and john you keep on your dash.

“That day we went to the winery and they have a really popular black and white photo booth.” She smiles at the way your eyes light up when speaking about him.

“You complement each other well.”

“Thank you, you’d love him, maybe when he gets back you could meet him.” The suggestion isn't one you'd ever see yourself making again after your last embarrassment of a boyfriend.

“Of course.” she says with a soft smile.

—-----------------------

“Do you think she’s okay?” John asks Simon who sits next to him on the foreign base.

“I do.”

“I wish I could call her already, just to be sure and shake this feeling.” He was told calls weren't permitted until clearance that the location they’re at is secured.

“Captain, she can handle herself, she's going to be fine and if this goes to plan we’ll be back in no time.” John just sighs, his breath making a cloud into the cold air. By no time Simon means a month, a whole thirty days without you, he might just die from heartbreak.

“You think you'll marry her?” Simon has always been one for deep conversation but it’s always random and spontaneous.

“Jesus son it hasn't even been seven months.” John says with an awkward laugh knowing he has an answer to the question.

“That's not what I asked the captain.” Simon replies.

“I'd be lucky to, I'd give everything to make that woman my wife, it’s just too soon, I don’t want to scare her off.” he says with a hopeless sigh.

“Time is an illusion, captain, don't wait forever.”

“What are you, A fucking poet?”

“Yeah.” They both laugh as Simon opens a pack of cigarettes offering one to John and grabs one from the pack for himself.

“Like I said if I'm lucky.”

“I think the perfect woman falling into your hands proves you're as lucky as it gets, i mean look at those idiots.”he says gesturing towards johnny and gaz who arm wrestle on a wobbly table.

“You're right.”

—----------------

The days have been stretched long, you think to yourself. It was good though, the distractions of shopping and hanging with your sister was nice and relieving but now it's four in the morning and she's fast asleep beside you and your eyes won't even shut for more than five minutes before the anxiety becomes too much.

It's been a long time since you’ve had a night like this and you don't wish to have many more but while johns away you most likely will.

You get out of bed quietly and head to his room to grab a shirt of his, anything to feel closer. Walking in you realize you and john are very rarely in here and dust collects on the clothing drawer you open.

“I've missed these.” you say pulling your favorite pair of undies from the bottom of his pajama shirt drawer wondering when he could've gotten them then it hits you, these are from the night of your first date, you laugh quietly before putting them back.

You pull the shirt over your head right then and there, discarding the one you had on before, leaving it somewhere on John's floor before heading back to bed.

“Where'd you go?” your sister mumbles, scaring the life out of you.

“John's room real quick sorry for waking you.” you reply in a whisper.

“Yeah I thought a man got into bed with me.” you figure you've become a little blind to how strong his cologne can be and apologize.

“Night.” you say before sliding under the duvet.

—-------------

“That was close too close, almost got caught.” John says very sternly to his task force who just returned from their first outing in this foreign country.

“But we didn't.” gaz says, and it's true was it close yes but there've been many other occasions just like it.

“But we were close!” The captain's booming voice makes them all fall silent.

“Next time I say to pull away you listen, do you understand, let me expect more from you.” he pointed at simon.

“Understood.” he says with a nod.

“I'll see you all in the morning.” the captain says before walking away and into his tent. The boys all spare eachother side glances before Johnny starts.

“He needs to get laid immediately.”

“He just has something to live for now I think and it's scaring him.” the ghost replies and it's troubling him, because although he understands his captain has to get his emotions under control before this mission blows up in their faces.

“Go talk to him Lt.” Gaz says pointing towards where the silhouette of John is visible through the tarp of his tent. Simon gets up without another word walking to the tent asking if he could open it.

“What do you want?” John says to him, still agitated.

“Captain i understand your emotions are high right now you miss her and you're not allowed to call yet but understand we are soldier and as a team we understand each other-”

“I'm captain and I'm glad you understand each other but it's my job to understand the situation.”

“You're trying to understand the situation here and at home though, and it's going to get us killed.” Simon says before leaving. John realizes then he has had his mind in two places and he can't afford that. Swallowing his pride he approaches the team who's still sitting where he left them.

“I apologize for my outburst, let's reread some files and figure out an action plan for tomorrow.”

—-------------

It's been nearly a week and not a sound from John, you're worried sick and there's nothing anyone can do about it. Your sister has a life to return to and you'll be alone with these thoughts for however long.

“Alright babe till next time.” she says hopping out of your car back at the same spot you picked her up from. You get out to help her get her extra bags that she acquired from shopping.

“I love you, call me when you get home.” you say giving her a big hug trying not to cry.

“Will do, love you.” you watch her board before leaving. You're back home before you know it, getting back basically on autopilot.. You decide to call it a night at six, the emotional baggage of the day and the possibility of going another day without speaking to John is enough to get you to sleep heavily.

And sure enough not only another day passes with no contact but another week goes by.

—------------

“Good job out there today, that was beyond successful.” John says, patting everyone on the back as they all file back into their temporary base.

“Hey captain, have you spoken to the little lass?” he was cleared his fifth day here to call home but simply hasn't.

“No I haven't.”

“Why not?” it takes soap by surprise, the captain went from being worried sick about you to not even mentioning your name.

“It's a distraction I can't handle right now.” Simon's ears pick up on this and he just shakes his head in disappointment, that man only ever hears what he wants to.

“Okay, she probably misses you though.” soap continues.

“Don't johnny.” the captain demands sternly leaving him to just walk away.

John misses you he does, so much so it makes him sick but he can't afford to think about you more than a little before it consumes his thoughts, what're you doing?Where are you?How are you?It's all too much.

He stares at the phone he was issued long enough to the point where he picks it up and dials your number and of course you answer first ring.

“John, good god hon i've missed you.” he doesn't say anything just listens to your voice fill his ears.

“John hello you there.” he stays silent trying to hold in this rush of sadness he hadn't expected.

“Johnnnnnn hello, i think your connection is bad or maybe it's mine.” he feels guilty for doing this to you, just like he gets the comfort of hearing you again you deserve that too but he just can't bring himself to speak, so he hangs up and sets the phone down leaving his tent to drown himself in work and whatever else there is to do.

—------------

The confusion and uncertainty that followed with the click of the phone was immense but there were no tears left to cry by now. You've just accepted the fact that he couldn't talk right now reminding yourself that you knew what you were getting into when he asked you to be his girlfriend or as he says it his partner.

—------------

Another week, then another passes

“He hasn't called, I'm just worried.” you say while on facetime as you fold laundry.

“Maybe it isn't allowed.” she says trying to comfort you by making that stupid face people make when they don't know what to say.

“But he told me he could, so I just don't get what changed you know, but maybe you're right, I just miss him.”

“And that's okay, it's healthy.” Since she's left, her phone is full with nothing but you and your rants about life, your day, how much you miss john.

“How long has it been now?”

“Four weeks going on five.” you sigh while getting up to put some clothes away in your closet.

“Well he'll be back soon hopefully, I got to go when my break is over.” she says while blowing you a kiss through the phone.

“Okay bye.” —--------------

You're woken up at four in the morning the next night from your phone buzzing under your pillow, excitedly thinking it's John. You quickly grab it looking at the number and although it's similar in area code some numbers are different but nonetheless you answer.

“Hello.”

“Hey it's Johnny we’ve met. I'm a friend of johns.” soap says into the phone simon and gaz next to him listening.

“Hey is everything okay, is john okay?” you say in a bit of a panic.

“Yes yeah everythings okay we’re or I’m just calling to see how you are, make sure you're okay?”

“Yeah I'm fine are you?” You say a little mind boggled that Johnny is calling you before your partner.

“Yeah I’m well actually.” He says as if this is casual conversation.

“Johnny, why isn’t John the one calling me?” You finally ask, he doesn’t know what to say he looks at the two other men who shrug and are obviously thinking of what to say.

“I don’t know.” Gaz rolls his eyes and Simon pushes the side of Johnny's head at the obvious lie.

“Oh okay. If you can tell him I miss him and that I love him.” All their heads fall into their hands as the choke in your words is obvious.

“I will.”

“Is he avoiding me?” This hadn’t even been a possibility in your mind until right now.

“No, I'm sure he’s just um he’s just busy.” They hear the captain tent start to unzip.

“Okay lass got to go stay safe and do not ever tell the captain about this.” He says before hanging up without another word.

—————

“Who were you talking to?” The captain mindlessly asks as he approaches them sitting down beside Johnny.

“A little lass I met not too long ago.” Not a lie but not the truth.

“Okay, anyways Tomorrow should be our last day. We've got to secure one more piece of information then we’re out of here.”

“Excited to get home?” Gaz asks.

“Yeah but I’ll probably stay at the base a little longer to do these files.”

“Why?” Simon questions, wondering what childish excuse his captain will come up with.

“I’ll be distracted at home.” Simon stands without another word leaving into his own tent.

“What’s his deal?” The captain asks the other two remaining.

“Just being himself.” The captain nods even though there’s definitely more to it.

——————-

Thank you for reading, comments and reposts are immensely appreciated<3

@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppuff @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic @Dreams-of-qian-qian @spngingerbread21 @thepumpkinqueen93 @copiasratscheese @youdontknowe @spyderdoll @angels-gonna-play @viisgrave @lieutenantlashfaz @sunndust @beckythecatqueen-blog @aoioozora @o-birdseed-o @mothmothmothmothmothmoth @ihateuguys @oversensitivitea @spicyspicyliving @maladptivedaydreaming

#captain john price #angst #john price #captain price x female reader #john price x reader #task force 141 #barry sloane #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick

147 notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 2 years ago

Text

Love On The Brain

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: Dean and Y/N – hunting partners, bunker roommates & idiots in love. Sam is fed up with their constant “will they/won’t they” bullshit and decides to move things along with his own plan until these two fated lovers’ paths finally cross one night – naked.

Warnings: +18, smut (mentions of masturbation f & m, oral f, fingering, p in v), crack of the adorkable kind, nudity, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: Happy V-Day, babes! 💖 The V stands for... Welp, you know me well enough by now to know where I’m going with this 😝 This is a lot of moronic crack mixed with some sweet smut and fluff. We all know how much I love the “idiots in love” trope, and I fully dove into this one. So, grab your glass of favorite liquor & let’s settle in, shall we? ❤️😘 Written for a request by @imagine-all-the-fandoms after making some adjustments. Found Rihanna’s Love on the Brain fitting for this one, so that’s what we went with as a general mood. Hope you enjoy, m’ladies! 🖤

Feedback is highly appreciated! Get me drunk on it and fill my writer’s juice 🤓🥃

Main Masterlist | Dean Winchster Masterlist

Freedom! Thank fucking God…

Y/N exhales a blissful sigh as she saunters to the Dean Cave with a bag of still-hot microwave popcorn in her arms. The Winchester brothers have decided on a little overnight road trip to the next, bigger town over to see a movie – and for some brotherly bonding or whatever – which means Y/N can finally enjoy some goddamn alone time in the bunker. Not that she doesn’t love Sam and Dean to bits and pieces, especially the latter one. They are like family to her, the only one she’s ever truly known, but even family can grow exhausting sometimes.

Living with two boys can grow exhausting, honestly, so Y/N has decided to spend her alone time doing a bunch of girly shit she can’t do with Tweedledee and Tweedledum around – at least not without enduring some judgmental looks.

So, first on the agenda? Watching a bunch of chick flicks, aka any movie the oldest Winchester wouldn’t approve of. Mean Girls, Clueless, 10 Things I Hate About You, You’ve Got Mail, and so on – you get the gist.

The second order of business is a long-ass bathroom time for a little much-needed self-care, including a hot and relaxing bath with an abundance of pink bubbles and soap that smells like the goddamn Queen’s flower garden. Then she’s going to shave and wax… everything. Admittedly, things got a little hairy in recent weeks. There wasn’t a lot of time between hunts and sharing close quarters with two men in motel rooms, and every time she did attempt a proper shave, Dean would yell outside the bathroom door, needing to pee or God knows what else, so she dropped the razor again. Honestly, it’s not like she’s being followed around by an array of suitors these days. It’s been months since anyone has seen her private parts or even her bare legs, including her. On the upside, at least her vibrator doesn’t mind the extra locks.

Oh God, she’s fucking sad, isn’t she? Yeah… It’s a sad affair all around, really.

Regardless, the mention of some self-love reminds her of her third to-do item on her list: sex. Well, technically masturbating to Ryan Gosling’s pictures. Maybe even Andrew Garfield, Sebastian Stan, that hot dude Jackson from Grey’s Anatomy… Leo in his prime. Brad Pitt – young and old. Seth Rogen… Whoa! Don’t judge, okay? It’s not all about looks. She loves when a guy can make her laugh, and his laugh is so sweet, deep, and… bear-y, alright?

Yeah, fine, she knows she needs to get fucked properly by a real dick instead of a fictional one – rather sooner than later before she goes for… the dick that’s been living right under the same roof, only three doors down from her own bedroom.

Shit.

Yep, Dean fucking Winchester – God of all Gods, monster hunter extraordinaire, hero of all innocent damsels, and idiotic clown of all clowns, shamelessly stole her heart since… well, pretty much the minute they met and she first laid eyes on him. It felt like being blinded by the sun, the golden freckles on his cheeks and nose resembling the twinkling, starry constellations in the night sky. In an instant, she was an unsuspecting, innocent moth to a blazing flame. How could she possibly resist that irresistible, boyish charm? There’s no vaccine against that green-eyed virus. She swears she’s seen women faint and gasp before him, and she certainly isn’t immune, either. No one truly is, not even other men, for crying out loud.

Unfortunately, Dean will never ever look at her in that way and see more than a friend in her. The thought alone is so ridiculous it makes her snort before she starts to uncontrollably sob and whine. But God, does she wish more than anything he could be hers and she could be his.

Admittedly, she feels a little lonely, especially with the ominous Valentine’s Day looming around the corner, or as Dean likes to call it – unattached drifter Christmas.

Dear fucking God, why did she have to fall in love with that dork? Why can’t it be some nice, normal guy without an abundance of commitment issues?

On the other hand, it’s a good thing the oldest Winchester isn’t here tonight, even though he’d probably love the fourth part of her evening: naturism.

Yup, walking around naked while you’re alone is the best fucking thing in the world and so goddamn freeing. Tits out. Let the ladies breathe a little, you know? Having the girls constantly locked up in bra prison is no way to go through life. And Y/N knows for sure Dean would not only agree with that sentiment but also highly support it. After all, he was the one that suggested Naked Tuesdays when she first moved in. Sam then established a rule that the oldest Winchester wasn’t allowed to “sexually harass” her. It was completely unnecessary but sweet nonetheless. Y/N knows Dean’s just a teasing goofball 99% of the time and would never seriously harm her or make her feel uncomfortable. In fact, she loves that the brothers are always looking out for her and have her best interest in mind.

So, as soon as she hears the big metal door of the bunker slam shut, Y/N excitedly begins her girl’s night alone, trying not to think too much about the green-eyed hunter and focusing on Gosling on the silver screen instead.

“So, this movie… is it like Zombieland?” Dean inquires with a wide grin, wiggling his eyebrows as he grabs a couple of beers and snacks from the fridge for their road trip to Wichita.

Sam’s brow furrows in confusion. “What? Dean, no… It’s not an action movie or a comedy. It’s an environmental documentary about how soil can counteract the climate crisis,” the younger Winchester explains, chuckling in amusement.

Dean’s face drops, his features morphing from excitement to shock as his eyes blink in rapid succession. “What?! But you said Woody Harrelson is in it! You lied to me!”

“Nooo,” Sam laughs, shaking his head, and corrects, “I said Woody Harrelson narrates it. It’s a good documentary. Trust me.”

“Fuck no! I don’t wanna watch a movie about dirt,” the older brother whines, his plump lips shaping into a pout. “Can’t we go see something with action and blood and guns? You know, something fun?”

“Dean, our whole life is action, blood, and guns. Would do you some good to care about the Earth and climate every once in a while,” Sam lectures him.

“Screw that! We’ve already saved the planet multiple times. All that Al Gore shit ain’t my problem,” Dean huffs, pops open a beer and takes a sip. “‘Sides, I don’t trust these environmental clowns. I know the first thing they’d wanna do is get rid of Baby, and then I swear I’m gonna start shootin’. I can’t stand for that insanity.”

“Fine,” Sam frowns and lets out a resigned sigh. “Then I guess you’ll have to stay here because I wanna watch that movie.”

“Fine by me,” Dean agrees with another sip of beer.

“Good. Since you’re not coming, I might even check out the Mid-America Fine Arts Museum,” Sam shares, the excitement gleaming in his hazel orbs.

“Yeah, nerd yourself out, little brother,” Dean snorts. “Did you know Wichita has a Pizza Hut Museum?”

“Uh-huh, yeah, you tell me that every time we go to Wichita, Dean,” Sam reminds him and suppresses the laugh. “Well, uh, have fun alone with Y/N then,” he smirks slyly, and Dean’s short-lived relief disappears as realization dawns, his brow knitting. “Who knows? Might even be a good opportunity for you to tell her you’re madly in love with her.”

“Wha-, uh, pffft, no?” Dean brushes his little brother’s lunatic accusations off the kitchen counter and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, clearing the fluster in his throat. “Dude, are you drunk? I’m so not in love with her, alright? Don’t be ridiculous, okay? Do I find her incredibly hot, smart, sweet, brave, kind, adorable, and funny? Sure… That’s why she’s our friend, right? But that doesn’t mean I like… love “love” her, okay? At least not like that.” He forms sarcastic air quotes around the cursed word and grimly swallows his uncomfortableness and the lies down with a big gulp of beer. “And for crying out loud, keep your voice down when you say shit like that. I don’t want her to hear us,” he hisses, his green orbs nervously eyeing the kitchen door. “It’s echo-y in here, you know?”

“Sure, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam casually shrugs his shoulders, clearly not buying a single one of the green-eyed hunter’s words, and it only annoys the older Winchester more.

“Don’t-… Nuh-uh, don’t gimme that fake ‘whatever you say’ bullshit shtick. There’s really nothing going on, alright?” Dean assures anew, growing more irritated by the minute.

Sam twitches his shoulders once more and then cockily folds his arms over his chest, a teasing smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, so you won’t mind if I set her up with Matt, right? It’s just-… She seems a little lonely lately.”

“Lonely?” Dean arches an eyebrow in apprehension and scoffs, “She’s fine, Sam. She’s got us.”

Sam frowns for what feels like the hundredth time during this conversation. “Dean, you honestly don’t think that’s enough for her.”

“Why not?” The older Winchester shrugs, refusing to see clearly. “It’s enough for me. Our life is awesome. You don’t see me complaining.”

“Yes, you’re obviously the golden standard for healthy relationships,” Sam mutters sarcastically and rolls his eyes back.

Dean purses and smacks his plump lips, scratching the bit of scruff on his throat. “Well, uh… shut up, okay? And don’t set her up with Matt. The guy’s a douche.”

“Alright, what about Josh? You like Josh,” Sam suggests next.

“Yeah, as a hunting partner, he’s alright, not as a boy toy for our friend, Sam,” Dean grits bitterly and rolls his eyes, chugging the rest of his beer. “Seriously, what is wrong with you? You’re not her pimp. Just leave her alone, alright?”

“Look, if you don’t wanna date her – fine. That’s on you. Just don’t stand in the way of her happiness because you can’t stop self-sabotaging yourself, man,” Sam argues with a judgmentally raised brow.

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Dean grumbles, the offense clearly written in every deep wrinkle on his face.

“Uh-huh, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam deadpans and grabs his laptop bag, making his way out of the kitchen.

“Stop saying that!”

“Look, I’d love to discuss all your weird issues in detail with you, but I still have to pick up Eileen on my way to Wichita,” Sam notes nonchalantly as Dean trails behind him through the bunker’s corridors. “I’ve watched you two beat around the bush for years. It’s getting annoying. You guys are worse than Ross and Rachel.”

“Wait, Eileen? Did you plan all of this on purpose? Were you trying to trick me?” Dean’s voice rises with his exasperation. He hates when Sam puts his nose where it doesn’t belong, mainly in his business. It’s the typical little brother shit he had to deal with all his life. Siblings, man…

“Me? No, I would never,” his younger brother replies with feigned innocence, marching up the metal stairs to the exit, but Dean can hear the goddamn deceit in his words.

“I don’t believe you,” Dean grits with a sternly creased brow, narrowing his juniper eyes at his younger brother as he halts at the bottom of the steps.

“Okay, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam grins complacently and opens the door. “Just don’t be an idiot. Make the first move, alright? That’s all you need to do. Trust me. It’s gonna be fine. She likes you, too.”

With that, the youngest Winchester closes the door behind him, leaving Dean to ruminate in his convoluted misery.

The hunter then stomps through the hallways of the bunker, furiously mumbling to himself as he passes the Dean Cave on his way to his room. Hearing sounds coming from inside, he stops by the cracked door for a moment and realizes Y/N is watching a movie in there. He considers joining her before recognizing Gosling’s voice, a deep sigh leaving his lips. Of course, she’s watching chick flicks again, so he decides against his plan, knowing some silly rom-com could potentially be a slippery slope and lead to some dangerous innuendos.

He downright refuses to play into his little brother’s evil scheme. Sam’s not goddamn Lindsay Lohan, and this isn’t the fucking Parent Trap. It’s better and safer if Dean stays far away from Y/N for the entirety of Sam’s absence, so the hunter quietly retreats to his room.

Dean decided to watch a bunch of his favorite horror movies until late into the night, ignoring the boiling feelings under the surface. He then closes his laptop with a heavy sigh, ready to call it a night after a nice, warm shower.

With headphones on and some classic rock music drowning out his hammering thoughts, he takes off his clothes and wraps a towel around himself. During an earlier snack run to the kitchen, he noticed the Dean Cave had already been deserted, the room quiet and dark. Y/N luckily has withdrawn to her own room again, so he knows he won’t accidentally run into her. She still hasn’t left his mind, his head in a constant swirl since his stupid conversation with Sam.

So, naturally, Dean comes to the conclusion that only some self-completion down the shower drain might help to clear his thoughts and flush the huntress out of his mind for good. He’s not proud of it, but it’s certainly not the first time since he’s known her that he thinks about her while jerking off. Usually, it only happens when he has to spend too many nights in a row with her in a small motel room without a way to escape, but this time, though, he fully blames Sam and his big mouth for it.

Wandering down the hall to the bathroom, his head bobs to the rhythm of the music flowing through his ears, his green eyes fixed on his phone screen as he scrolls through his playlist. Mindlessly opening the door, he suddenly freezes as another body bumps straight into him.

It all happens pretty fast from there. There’s a loud, high-pitched shriek that filters through the music, his hand drops his phone, and his headphones fall down with it, severing the connection and leaving him in silence as his palms catch a taut-skinned body in his arms while the towel around his waist glides to the tiled floor. And then, he just stares into two big and shocked pupils, which are probably as wide as his own.

Fuck…

For a second, Dean feels incredibly exposed before noticing the warm skin that’s pressed flush against his own body. Yep, he doesn’t dare to check, but he’s certain Y/N’s completely naked, too.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…,” Y/N’s panicked voice chimes in his ears as both of them awkwardly avert their gazes in different directions to the ceiling and avoid eye contact at all costs while still clinging tightly onto each other, aware that if one of them moves, it’s game over and they’d see each other in their full glory. Basically, they’re each other’s damn shields – as uncomfortable as that may be. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“I, uh…” That’s when Dean realizes Y/N probably didn’t even know he stayed behind and let Sam go to Wichita alone. “Sam wanted to watch a documentary.”

“I know!” Y/N yells in annoyance and grits, “You were supposed to go with him! Granted, I was surprised you agreed to it in the first place, but still, you’re not supposed to be home!”

“He didn’t tell me it was a documentary about dirt, alright? Otherwise, it would’ve been a straight-up ‘no’ from the start,” Dean explains and tries not to get hard as he feels Y/N’s tits press against his chest. Judging by the precise feeling that’s poking him, she must be somewhat cold.

“Yes, he did! I was right there when you agreed,” Y/N argues. “He talked about it for over an hour.”

“Oh,” Dean stumps and clears his throat rather awkwardly. Who could blame him for not listening, huh?

“You never listen to people! It’s so goddamn annoying!”

“Y/N, you need to stop talking, sweetheart,” Dean begs her, squeezing his eyes shut as he concentrates on anything else for dear life.

Baseball, Sam drinking green smoothies, a scratch on Baby’s new coat of paint… He attempts to distract his mind from the unavoidable, but it’s no use. The skin-on-skin contact is his final nail in the coffin.

“Oh, I’m sure you would love that, wouldn’t you?” Y/N continues in a furious huff, “It’s not always about you–”

“Y/N, please… All that angry shaking isn’t helping, sweetheart.”

The huntress cocks an eyebrow high, almost reaching the messy bun on top of her head. “Helping with what?”

“Uhm…”

And that’s when he can’t control it any longer. There’s a distinctive twitch against her thigh, and he’s sure she’s felt it, too. Shit, shit, shit…

“Oooooh.” Y/N awkwardly presses her lips into a thin line, her fingertips tapping a nervous melody on his skin. Her single utterance makes his heart stop. It’s game over. She’s going to call him a gross perv, move out of the bunker, and then never speak to him again. “It’s-, uhm, it’s okay,” she says surprisingly, her head bobbing with a thick swallow as she reassuringly squeezes his biceps where her palms rest.

“Y/N, I’m-, uh… oh God… I’m so, so sorry,” he stammers, deciding to keep his eyes shut to escape some of the awkwardness.

“I-, no, it’s not-… This is a weird situation we’re in… It’s fine. Completely normal, right? Like, uhm, like a reflex?”

“Uh, yeah, guess so,” Dean gulps, his eyelids slowly fluttering open and gaze drifting back to the ceiling. It’s not a goddamn reflex, though. It’s all her. It’s the effect she has on him.

“We should, uh, probably, uhm, detangle…”

“Uh-huh, yup, nope, agree,” he says and clears his throat once more, hoping the fluster will leave his body soon. “You, uh, wanna bend down, and we both can grab our towels?”

Fuck, it’ll probably be awkward between them for months now. They’ll avoid each other during breakfast, lunch, dinner… They’ll stop watching movies together, Sam will have to be their buffer and hate it, and they probably won’t look directly into each other’s eyes till Christmas – and it’s only fucking February.

“Oh, uhm… I actually, technically didn’t, uh, come with a towel?”

His eyebrow twitches upward, head slightly tilting to the side as he thinks about her words. “Oh, uh… Wait… Were you, uhm, walking around like… naked through the bunker?”

Well, there’s an image Dean’s never gonna get out of his head. Now, he’ll forever wonder if she takes off her clothes as soon as he walks out the door.

“Look, I thought I was alone, okay?! Again – you’re not actually supposed to be here! Don’t judge me!” Y/N defends, the panic returning to her voice, and then adds something in an almost inaudible mumble, “Just wanted to let the girls breathe a little. Sue me…”

“What?” His head tilts some more, the fine creases on his brow deepening.

“Nothing… never mind,” she quickly splutters, her cheeks flushing bright red as she visibly swallows.

Dean snorts. He’s in love with a dork, isn’t he? God, she’s adorable.

And then, it fucking happens again. Dammit…

“Was that…”

“Again – I’m so, so sorry,” he apologizes once more, although he’s sure he can’t do it often enough. His dick is an escaped zoo animal and clearly on the prowl tonight.

“No, uh… So how do you wanna do this? We could, uhm, maybe turn 180 and then close our eyes and let go… I could, uhm, run really fast down the hall, and you could just quickly back into the bathro–”

Y/N doesn’t get to finish laying out her plan. Dean’s lips on hers stop any further words from spilling out of her mouth. The featherlight kiss doesn’t last longer than a painfully anxious second, his mind racing a mile a minute, his brain positively fried.

What the hell is he fucking doing? There’s only one rule in the bunker: don’t sexually harass Y/N. Dean’s pretty damn sure he’s breaking that rule right now and crossing too many goddamn lines. How’s he supposed to ever recover from this?

“What, uh…” Y/N’s speechless, every muscle frozen stiff in his embrace. Her eyebrows draw up and reach her hairline, eyes blown wide in shock. “Or that… you could do that…”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Dean groans in defeat and shame, hoping the Earth opens up and takes him straight to the burning fires of Hell. See? There aren’t enough apologies in this world to make up for his stupidity. “You know, this is all Sam’s fault… He just got into my head… I mean, this is obviously the wrong first move… I-I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just have a, you know, teeny-tiny crush on you, but still, this is obviously inappropriate.”

“You-, uhm, you have a crush on me?”

Dean swallows the hard lump in his throat. “Uh, yeah… Yeah, I do,” he admits bravely. “But don’t worry about it, okay? It’s just a temporary thing, alright?”

Y/N nods slightly in understanding. “For how long have you felt this way?”

“Well, uhm, like I said – not that long… Just a very short period of time… Like, since November 29th… 2012,” he gulps and shrugs sheepishly, watching her brow furrow in confusion.

“But… that’s the day we met,” Y/N points out.

Dean chuckles uncomfortably and rebuffs her concerns. “Is it? No…,” he rasps. “Well, uhm, anyways, that doesn’t change anything. Don’t worry, alright? No need to make this weird. I’m sure if we give it a couple more years, I’ll be completely over you.”

Y/N’s head bobs again, her lips pursing. “Okay, uhm… But what if you, uh, you know, maybe get over me in the literal sense… and I could get under you?”

The gears in his head start turning as he musingly squints his pine green eyes at her and studies her features. She seems nervous. There’s a bite of her lower lip and a light swallow in her throat, her pupils flickering insecurely. “Uhm, well… is that something you would like? I mean, to get-, uh, would you wanna get under me?”

“Uhm… yes? Yeah?” She looks up at him and meets his gaze, their eyes fully connecting for the first time since they have catapulted themselves into this mortifying situation.

“Is that a question?” Dean checks and chuckles lightly. “Because you kinda need to be sure about this, y’know?”

Another swallow and Y/N nods, determination gleaming in her eyes. He feels her weight shift forward, her feet rising on tip-toes as her palms move from his upper arms to the back of his neck. Her soft, pillowy lips catch his, a tender touch as their mouths carefully mold together. She sucks on his upper lip, nibbles on the bottom one before he feels the tip of her tongue lick between. He opens his mouth wider, lets her slip inside.

Dean’s hands then begin to travel, his confidence growing as Y/N’s fingers tug slightly on the short strands of hair in the nape of his neck, trying to draw him closer. One large hand cups her neck, the other one smoothing down her spine and pressing into the small of her back. He pushes her closer, deepens the kiss, and both of them moan needily while their tongues dance with each other. His grip on her becomes stronger, their bodies melting into one. Y/N gasps into his mouth, her hips pushing against his, skin on skin, as her bare pussy brushes his bulging dick.

“Shit…,” Dean mutters breathlessly against her lips, and Y/N breaks the kiss and meets his eyes with a hint of a smile.

Her lips are red and glistening, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. He cups her blushed cheek, thumb ghosting over the kiss-swollen flesh of her bottom lip as he mirrors her soft smile.

“You okay?” Y/N checks, giggling slightly.

Dean chuckles, palm still caressing her cheek. “Yeah, uh, just realized we’re incredibly naked.”

She snorts and nods, “Yeah, guess that doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination, huh?”

“Definitely not,” Dean agrees and laughs a little, his cheeks blushing with bashfulness. “But, look, we don’t have to do anything tonight, alright? We can take it slow.”

Y/N thoughtfully chews on her lip, her dimples showing a smile before she shakes her head. “No, I think we’ve been taking things slow for long enough.”

Dean’s face breaks into a grin before he pulls her back to his lips for a searing kiss. Y/N’s hands lock around his neck, allowing him to lift her up, and her legs instinctively wrap around his waist. His hand weaves into her hair, still damp in the back of her neck from her bath, as the scent of her delicious body wash and lotion seep into his nostrils with each intake of air.

“You smell nice,” he notes, his mouth trailing along her jawline and down her throat, leaving wet kisses in his wake as he sucks her pulse point black and blue. “Like a flower garden…”

Y/N giggles, the cute sound in his ears causing his heart to flutter. She clasps his jaw and draws his attention back to her face, nuzzling her nose against his, whispering, “Bedroom. Need you inside me…”

“Jesus, Y/N… Going in for the kill, huh? You can’t say stuff like that to a man in a compromising position,” he jokes, making her laugh more. “Okay, hold on, sweetheart. You ready?”

She confirms it with a nod, and Dean adjusts his grip on her body, grabbing her a little tighter before bolting down the bunker hallway like a little kid on Christmas morning. The huntress squeals and giggles in his arms as he kicks the door open to his bedroom, gently laying her down on the mattress. She lets herself fall back and stretches out on the bed, her shoulder blades indenting the memory foam, and he hopes the thing does as advertised and fucking remembers her forever.

“You’re fast,” Y/N teases him as he quickly makes his way on top of her.

Dean chuckles, placing soft kisses on her lips in between his laughs. “Yeah, well, I’d run a mile just to get a taste of you, sweetheart. But don’t worry – not all of it will be this fast, alright?”

“Oh, I didn’t think it would be,” she giggles and licks her lips. “Can you just do me a favor?”

“Anything, sweetheart,” Dean assures her and lovingly brushes her hair behind her ears.

“Just judging by, uhm, size-,” she interrupts her sentence for a giggle, and he joins in. She’s so fucking cute. “Can you go slow?”

“Oh, trust me. I would’ve taken my time either way, but tell you what – I’ll even do you one better,” he says. His fingers then slide up her arm, along her collarbone and down to one breast. She shivers underneath him, her skin breaking into delicate goosebumps, soon soothed by his warm lips. His thumb brushes her bud, plays with it until it hardens and then alleviates the sensation with his hot breath and wet tongue.

“Fuuuuck,” Y/N sighs blissfully, her toes curling as a smile shapes on her lips, fully relaxing under his care. “Feels so good, De.”

His chuckle vibrates against her ribcage, his mouth traveling down her upper body, his kisses not missing an inch of smooth skin. Every rib, every beauty mark, every freckle gets the attention they deserve, even teasingly dipping his tongue into her navel. The last tender kiss is placed on her mound as he moves between her legs and spreads her thighs a little wider.

A smirk forms on his face as he leers at her pussy, bright pink and already glistening with her arousal. He catches her watchful gaze, sees a bit of insecurity shimmering in it as she nibbles her fingernails and bottom lip almost bloody, so he cheekily wiggles his eyebrows and sends her a wink, causing her to giggle and roll her eyes at his antics before she lets herself fall back into the mattress with a calming, deep breath.

Licking his thumb pad, he presses it against her sensitive nub, her thighs jolting for a second at the initial touch as a hiss escapes her throat, followed shortly by a strangled whimper. Y/N’s hands fist the bedsheet a little tighter, her knuckles turning white, every muscle wired to the nth degree. Her chest heaves frantically as her breathing grows more erratic with each little circle of his digit. His index finger then stretches and reaches her dripping entrance, rubbing at the tight ring before he easily pushes inside and curls it, poking the spongey spot.

“Fuck, Dean…,” she manages to croak out, biting down on her tongue.

Dean only chuckles, a giddy feeling spreading in his stomach and loving how responsive she is to his touches. There’s a loud whimper when he kisses her pussy lips, tongue dipping between and giving her clit a kitten lick, distracting her enough to shove his middle finger inside her cunt as well, scissoring them once he’s knuckles-deep.

“Oh God… shit,” she groans and whines above him.

He laughs lightly and curiously observes the torment on her face. “Wanna cum, huh?”

“Dean, I swear… I-… please,” she begs, her initial threat morphing into a soft plea for mercy.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he assures her amusedly and swiftly presses his mouth back on her pussy, sucking her sensitive bundle of nerves between his plump lips and thrusting his digits harder and faster inside her. It only takes three, four pushes and one skilled suck before she convulses, trembles, and soaks his face and fingers in her juices. He groans at the sweet taste of her on his tongue, his cock twitches gleefully between his bow legs, only too eager to slide in next.

“Oh God! Fuck… shit… D-Dean!”

The green-eyed hunter grins broadly up at her, his face almost split in half as he bathes in her blissed-out expression and the rosy cheeks that accompany it.

“Wow,” she breathes and shakily catches his swollen and wet lips as he comes back up to her eye level, propping his arms up on the sides of her head.

“I think you’re ready for the big gun now,” he laughs and places a loving kiss on the tip of her nose and another one on her forehead.

“Uh-huh, I’m not so sure after this,” she giggles, still catching her breath. She cups his jaw, kisses him deeply, and licks her arousal from his pillowy lips. “You’re… amazing.”

“Right back at you, sweetheart,” he winks, the softness of his smile contrasting his cockiness. “Do we, uhm, need–”

Y/N shakes her head, anticipating his question. “No, uh, I’m on the pill. I just need you.”

With a smile, he nods and ducks his head, entangling her in a blazing kiss as he devours her lips. His hand pushes between their heated bodies, fisting his achingly hard cock before he threads his dickhead through her folds, coats it with her slick before it catches at her entrance. His thick and leaking tip pushes inside, slowly entering her drenched cunt inch by inch till he’s buried deep and touches her cervix, stretching her tight walls around his impressive girth and hearing her little gasps of sheer pleasure.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasps at the feeling of her pussy enveloping his cock and gently brushes her hair out of her face, kissing her deeply. “Taking me so well… Such a good girl f’me.”

“God, you feel like heaven,” she whimpers and wraps her arms around his neck.

As he languidly pulls out to the tip, he kisses down her neck, sucking a mark into her skin. His hand wraps around one of hers, pinning it above her head to the mattress, fingers tightly interlocking before he thrusts back into her heat. His hips then work up a rhythm, a slow and soft song, as he fucks her deep and slams home harder at just the right spot.

Her second orgasm builds slowly yet deeply, aiming to shatter her from within as she hears the ticking of a bomb in every muscle of her body, counting down the seconds before a massive explosion. She moans loudly as the earth-shattering climax hits her at full force, booming and wild as she curses his name over and over.

His fingers grip hers tighter, his thrusts growing sloppy as he lazily fucks her, her pulsating walls clenching around his firm cock. His hips begin to stutter, broad shoulders quaking as he spills deep inside her and stills. He grunts, her name falling from his lips, loud, strained, and primal when he cums, painting her walls with his milky seed.

“Wow,” Dean repeats her earlier sentiment, her giggle causing his heart to soar higher than the moon in the sky. “You okay?”

A wide smile spreads across her face, a tired nod moving her head. “Yeah, more than okay,” she assures him and seeks out his lips.

Dean places one last kiss on her hairline before removing his limp and drenched dick from her center, rolling to his side and pulling her onto his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around her frame. “Hey, Y/N?”

She wearily lifts her heavy head to meet his green eyes. “Hm?”

“Were you, uhm, lonely?” Dean asks, his fingertips drawing tender patterns on her back.

“I guess… a little, yeah,” she admits. “Why?”

He kisses her forehead and pulls her closer. “Nothing. Just… I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere, okay? You wanna move into my room?”

Y/N’s beam is blinding, her cheeks blushing brightly pink. “Yeah, I’d love that,” she replies and snuggles back into his chest.

Dean then notices her eyes falling shut, losing the battle against sleep as her breathing calms in his embrace, his own mind following her into dreamland soon after.

In the morning, Y/N and Dean are still soundly asleep, entangled in sheets and limbs, when there are a few abrupt knocks on the door before it pops open to its full extent, the youngest Winchester’s voice drowning in from the hall.

“Hey, Dean? I’m back! Look, I figured we could talk. I’m sorry about yesterd–… ay… Whoa!”

“Wha-!” Y/N jolts up from the bed at the unexpected intrusion, her elbow hitting Dean straight in the face as he rises behind her. The force of the blow knocks him out of bed, the hunter tumbling to the cold ground.

Y/N clasps her palm over her mouth, staring at Sam’s shocked expression, their eyes both wide before she glances over her shoulder to her lover on the ground.

“Ow! Jesus…”

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Sam,” the huntress smiles awkwardly at the younger Winchester, sheepishly shrugging her shoulders as she hides her naked body underneath the sheets. “Good morning. How-, uh, how was the documentary?”

“Uhm, good?” Sam doesn’t look any less freaked out by what his hazel eyes are witnessing, though.

Dean groans behind her, rubbing a palm over his aching face before sending his little brother a lazy grin. “Hiya, Sammy.”

Sam then lets out a long sigh through his nose and mutters, “About damn time…”

“Yeah, about that, little brother… Might call Eileen and book yourself a room for at least a week somewhere,” Dean tells him, smirking.

Sam’s brow furrows, “What? Why?”

“Oh, because I’m gonna rail Y/N in every room we have,” Dean explains casually, watching Sam’s eyes widen.

“Oh?” Y/N sends her boyfriend an intrigued look, which he responds to with a sly wiggle of his eyebrows and a wink. “Even the dungeon? Are you, like, gonna tie me up and stuff?”

Dean’s eyes look at her lovingly, causing her cheeks to flush with heat. “Where have you been all my life, sweetheart?”

“Oh God, what have I done…,” Sam groans with a thick swallow.

PHEW! And we’re done with one shot week, babes! 😮‍💨 I honestly hadn’t planned this but found some inspiration over the weekend and finished some WIPs, and since they were all about different kinds of love, I figured they were perfect for Valentine’s Day 💖

Hope you enjoyed these various journeys, and if you did, please consider telling me here and leaving me with some kind words 🥰 Now excuse me while I go work on a few Soldier Boy one shots. I’ve missed my toxic Ben-Ben. Read you soon, babes! 😝🖤

Everything Jensen Tags: @extraterrestriali @this-is-me19 @writercole @awkward-and-indecisive @eevvvaa @panicking-outside-the-disco @globetrotter28 @imherefordeanandbones @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @xlynnbbyx @jassackles @maggiegirl17 @perpetualabsurdity @deans-spinster-witch @deandreamernp @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @deanwithscissors @mrsjenniferwinchester @justrealizedimmascifygurl @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @chriszgirl92 @lhymer1995 @wittyboldsoul @djs8891 @leigh70 @snowlovespie @b3autyfuldisast3r @recoveringpastaaddict @ladysparkles78 @muhahaha303 @mimaria420 @creepzeyecandy @avanatural

Dean Tags: @parinarain @hobby27 @fromcaintodean

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fic #dean winchester reader insert #dean x reader #dean x y/n #writing request #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic

1K notes · View notes

wintersera · 1 year ago

Text

g!p aespa and their roomie

(thoughts)

g!p aespa x f!reader non idol au

notes: this has been on my mind for a longgg ass time and i think i’ll write more about this au. it’s also like 1am while im writing this oopsies.

cw: crack (in a way), g!p, dacryphilia(?), SMUT, cockwarming, degredation, praise, marking, overstim, edging

first time staying in a dorm and all of your roommates have cocks??? life is good.

GISELLE HAS A FAT COCK AND KNOWS HOW TO USE IT WELL. knows you’re a perv, staring her up and down everyday. from when she just came out the shower to her coming home from work yeah.. perv. as if she isnt herself. looking at your boobs like she needs them badly. she does. first time you came into her room she signals you to sit down next to her. since its the start of the term you dont know each other that well but the closeness between you two would say otherwise. only knowing eachother for at least two weeks to your surprise she’s comfortably touchy with you. maybe because of the unsurprising sexual tension you both have. leaning in to you with her low cut shirt showing just a smidge of cleavage whispering dirty words into your ear to rile you up calling you her “good little slut” or “her whore” DAMN she wants to fuck you so bad. rips off your clothes desperately tearing your panties off real fast. she lets you ride her mhm mhm. when i say her cock is big i mean it's biiiiiig. 10 inches to be exact. as much as she’s lengthy she’s equally girthy as well. hard to get adjusted to but you finally fit her cock in your cunt. helps you ride out the pain for a while before shoving her entire length into you the sudden pleasure making you scream her name <33 SHE LOVES COWGIRL POSITION SO MUCH ITS CRAZY. watching you bounce on her hard dick while your boobs move up and down is her favourite thing. doesn’t hesitate to sit up and suck and lick your nipples leaving dozens of hickeys on your chest. such a hard dom, will literally shove your head into the pillow, pounding hard and rough from behind. definitely an ass smacker you can’t tell me otherwise. has you crying ever time she slams her cock into you smacking your ass to gain even more guttural moans from you. she goes to gym so you know she can pick you up with ease and throw you around, she does exactly that. treating you like your a doll whenever she wants to switch positions. your on all fours and out of nowhere you’re now on your back with her hovering over you, teasing your entrance again with her tip. 100% a massive tease as well. denying your orgasm for hours on end until your messed up crying on her bed begging on your hands and knees to cum. eventually she does let you cum, but overstimulates you for as long as she’s edged you. i jst think she’s a really teasy hard dom UGH. she also seems like the type to take videos and photos whenever you have sex. has a hidden photo album filled with videos of you riding her dick or photos with hickeys all over your body YUP.

karina has a massive dick but doesn't know how to use it. after actively listening to you and aeris, almost everyday, late night activities she wanted to join in on the fun albeit kinda embarrassed about asking if she could. is so caring during intercourse, almost like you’re a real couple. she’s slow and steady making sure that you’re feeling good always asking if you’re okay. the type of person to get hard off of praise. you could call her a “good girl” after she’d cum in you and she’d immediately get hard again. yeah she has a massive cock probably around the same size as aeri’s but a little more smaller. veiny and kinda leans a little to the left. HOWEVER she genuinely doesn’t know what to do with it, so most of the times you’ve had sex you’re the one to lead. it’s pretty unusual for her as she’s always taken the lead outside of sex meaning she’s a little bit awkward in these situations UGHH she’s so lost. her spooning you whilst you’re watching a movie, her eyes glued onto whatever is on the screen then she feels a sudden pressure on her crotch? oh its just you subtly grinding on her bulge. she’s red in the face and can’t control her hard on awhh so cute. slithering your hand into her boxers, you slowly move your hand up and down her shaft, jacking her off underneath the blanket saying that she should just relax, lowkey scared that one of the other roommates would walk in on you two but at the same time it excites her. feeling of getting caught makes her head spin, cums hard and loud once you pick up your pace. genuinely can’t control her hard ons fr. you could be chilling doing your studies, you look to your left and you see her with one arm on the door frame looking like she needs to be inside of you ASAP. doesn’t like to disturb the other roommates though. rubbing her cock with your hands and your mouth kissing up and down her shaft sends her brain into overdrive. using one of your hands to cover her mouth making sure that her whimpers and moans are almost inaudible. either that or she’s heavily making out with you once you’ve finished using your mouth on her, again, making sure that she’s not moaning out loud. my favourite switch <33 whenever she decides to dom, or whenever you ask her to dom you, she’s so careful. doesn’t have many hard kinks she’s more on the vanilla side. loves missionary with you, anything that gets her really close to your face she loves. seeing how you react when she goes a bit faster or thrusts a bit harder reassures her that she’s doing a good job on pleasuring you. fucks like she’s desperate when she’s near her climax. doesn’t matter what position you’re in, but whenever shes nearing her high she’ll speed up her thrusting grabbing whatever she can, the sheets, your hair, hips, hands literally anything to give her some leverage. disregarding the fact that the other roommates are still in the dorm, she often moans loudly nearing her climax.

winter is a little on the smaller side but hear me out.. she’s a grower. has the most sensitive pink tip. another victim of you and aeri’s late night adventures. (early morning adventures as well 💀) she’s overall really really sensitive OH MY GOD. one day while you were hanging out with winter in her car you accidentally opened one of the videos aeri had taken of you the night before. then boom, you turn your head to the right and you see winter blushing harddd. and that’s when winter had her first blowjob yaayyyy!!! personally i think she’s a massive nerd, vigin, loser and i love that for her. awkward air turned into a heavy make out session at the back of the car, thankfully her windows are tinted ;)) winter not knowing where to put her hands so she just roams across your body from your chest, thighs, hips, neck. she’s touching you everywhere. she’s so clingy pls don’t let her go :(( gets confused when you break the kiss just to slowly go down and unbutton the jeans she’s wearing. to your surprise, and liking, her dick is surprisingly big? shivers when you kiss the tip of her cock, precum already dripping down. she’s so sensitive its crazy i will not stfu about it. taking her whole cock in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head. whimpers spew from her pretty lips. it honestly feels too good for her to the point of incoherency, repeating “feels so good” “too good” “gonna cum” everytime you suck on her tip. head grabber? head pusher??? pushes your head furthering her cock into your throat making you gag a little but then cums at the sensation of you gagging. after her high you decide to spice things up a little for her yaaayy winters first pussy experience!!! straddling her hips, you take off your soaking panties, inserting her already hard cock into your pussy. she shrieks, grabbing your hips saying that it “feels so tight” “feels really warm” pretty much on the verge of cumming once again. overstimulating her is so easy aaahhh. cockwarming lover <33 sometimes she gets too busy with studying but you’re always ‘distracting’ her. you decide to cockwarm her while she studies for her next exam, occasionally shifting around in her lap earning a couple of cute whimpers. will have sex anywhere!!! she’s in the kitchen making ramen when you come up behind her, pressing your chest into her back. immediate turn on. whispering to her that she should take off her pants and she complies “awhh what a good girl”. getting on your knees to pull out her cock telling her to focus on cooking the food. playing with her tip with your tongue while you stroke her shaft making her legs shake from all the pleasure.

ningning is average size but just a bit more bigger than winter. also pretty girthy too. i don’t see much top ningning on tumblr but in this au i see her as a top leaning switch YESSSSSIRR🫡🫡. ning is such a secretive whore. pretends to not know what sex as soon as she sees you taking off your shirt she’s ready to pounce on you. YET AGAIN another victim of you and aeri’s fun little moments. at first she didnt seem all too interested in you at the beginning of the term but she grew somewhat accustomed to your presence LMAO. you had to ask her a question for something? lets say it was something to do with the school year since you were both in the same year. not answering her phone nor opening the door to her room when you knocked, you decided to waltz in, patience running out. LORD she’s sat there with her cock out looking at one of the polaroids aeri had taken of you. you both stare at each other in deafening silence, until she giggles, ushering you towards her bed. before anything she preps you by eating you out. taking both of your legs and hooking it over her shoulders, groaning into you pussy, circling her tongue around your clit. professional pussy eater i think so. already close to cumming she takes your legs off of her shoulders, positioning your legs so that you’re comfortable in front of her then grabbing you by the hips slamming herself into you wet cunt, forcing her entire cock into your hole. her technique is crazy, thrusting in and out of you rhythmically one hand playing with your clit and the other rubbinf circles on the side of your hips. the type of person to laugh during sex, its endearing and its cute but it’s so hot???? she’d be fucking you so hard that you’re crying but she’d be giggling saying that you’re “doing so well”. definitely takes videos and pics like aeri does. wants to keep them as a cute little memory you know, always rewatching them whenever you're not here :( morning sex with her thoughhh. waking up after a night of rough sex with her, seeing her lazily eat your pussy out slowly. takes her time for sure making sure you’re wet enough sliding a couple of fingers inside, hitting your gspot. i feel like she’d spoil you sick, constantly praising you for taking her cock so well, calling you her “pretty baby” , buying you lingerie just so she can take pics of you.

i’m such a slut for g!p giselle i need her so bad

#wintersera #aespa smut #aespa x reader #aespa karina smut #aespa winter smut #aespa giselle smut #aespa ningning smut #aespa x fem reader #fem! reader #gg x reader #girl group smut #kpop #kpop girl group #kpop smut

655 notes · View notes

peachybeom · 2 years ago

Text

Valentine Blues

Taehyun x reader

ex-best friends to lovers

Please reblog if you like this!

You were currently experiencing the worst day ever and were about one more tragedy away from having a breakdown.

Huffing violently you stood in the middle of an alleyway, watching your home route bus disappear with the main traffic.

Your phone beeped at the same time and you reached for it while taking rest on a wall nearby.

[10:51pm] Roomate.

Hey Y/n,

I just wanna thank you again for staying out tonight!! Because of you me and Josh can FINALLY enter the home base tonite and get extra juicy iykwim ;)))

Happy Valentines day babes!

Okay yeah now you can feel the breakdown coming.

You were so engrossed in storming all the libraries in town, looking for a specific book for your asshole Professor, to get him to reward you some extra credit, that you had conveniently forgot the stupid promise you had made to your roommate.

As much as you wanted to crash on the soft mattress of your bed and mute the world for rest of the weekend, you weren't desperate enough to walk into your roommate having sex with her co worker while roleplaying as a nurse.

In your peripheral vision, you could see couples huddled together, walking hand in hand. Some sharing an ice cream, others practically devouring each other with their intense stares.

Love was definitely in the air, and it made you nauseous. It wasn't that you were anti love or something, in the past you actually looked forward to this cliche holiday.

But recently you had managed to convince yourself that after several bitter breakups and unrequited crushes, being in a loving, healthy relationship seemed just impossible for you at this point.

Shaking your head, you pushed aside all the pointless worries and tried to focus on your current problem which was being homeless for the night.

You racked your brain to think which one of your crackhead friend would be available to offer you a lodging.

Kai? No. You knew he had plans with his girlfriend in her dorm to watch some random Disney movie and cry like a baby while she consoled him.

Soobin? Doubtful. His still had problems prioritising his girlfriend over odi, so that was a territory you didn't want to enter.

Beomgyu and Jeongin? Never. Those two would definitely be somewhere wasted in a club while they humped their way through another round of beer pong. They had actually tried to convince you for an entire week to join them at the club tonight and form a 'Singles Union', An association which helped each other to get laid. No way you were walking into that trap again.

That left you with Yeonjun- ehhhh. You actually had no idea what he was upto. Last time you heard from him, he was 'Single like a Pringle and definitely ready to Mingle'- his words not yours.

Sighing, you crossed your fingers as you dialled his number on your phone. Hopefully he could be your saving grace.

After a few rings he picked up the phone.

"Hey Junnie, I know it's kind of late and well.....Valentine's day but I really really need a favor from you," You said rushing your words. The cold weather was definitely peeking under your raging emotions.

"Oh hi Y/n, yeah sure what's up," Yeonjun replied, in a whisper.

"Yeah so I actually- I hear a woman's voice. Are you on a date?," You asked, cutting off your own words.

"Yes I am, but I can help you. What's the problem?" He answered.

To this you stifled a laugh. Choi Yeonjun on a date? The no strings attached Choi Yeonjun taking some lady out to have a nice dinner? This day was getting more trippy minute by minute.

"It's a speed dating thing. Now tell me what do you want, I don't have much time." Yeonjun said in an annoyed tone, taking the silence as a way of you teasing him.

Ah that makes so much more sense.

You almost felt bad for interrupting Yeonjun on his 'date' but you knew he was the only one who could save you right now.

So you told him about your problem.

"Hmmm you are aware that you can just crash at my place right? You already know where the key is kept, I won't be home for the night anyways" Yeonjun stated matter of factly.

Your ears perked up at his suggestion and you almost cursed yourself for not thinking about it earlier until a face flashed up in your mind.

"And what about Kang Taehyun?" You questioned grimly.

"Beggars can't be choosers Y/n. Besides it's not like he's the spawn of Satan." Your friends responded.

"But Yeonjun-,"

"Listen I have to go but consider this. It's not like you have any other option. Byee happy love day!" And then Yeonjun abruptly ended the call.

You groaned loudly and stomped your feet like a baby, earning glances from a few pedestrians. But you couldn't care less about them.

You started to weigh your options.

Spending a night at a run in shady motel full with horny couples or with your friend's roommate, the annoying, son of a gun- who also happened to be your ex bestfriend, Kang Taehyun.

After giving both of them intense thought. You decided to swallow your pride and take up Yeonjun's offer. Atleast his bed would be free of mysterious bodily fluids unlike the motel's.

After almost walking for half an hour- a consequence of missing the bus earlier, you finally reached Yeonjun's apartment.

Your feet were giving up on you and your teeth began to clatter lightly due to the cold February weather.

You could hear faint music from the other side of the door.

Great. Taehyun was home.

You weren't surprised though.

Even though you despised Taehyun, you decided to knock on the door instead of unlocking it out of common courtesy.

Nothing happened for a few moments and you knocked again. Still nothing.

Growing impatient you reached for the key and was about to use it when Taehyun opened it.

Correction: A very shirtless dripping wet Taehyun, with a towel around his waist opened the door.

"Lover boy isn't home tonight," Taehyun started with a stern tone. Oblivious to the fact that he was basically half nude standing in front of you.

"I-uh," You gulped, trying to compose yourself.

Taehyun is annoying and irritating and an asshole. His chiseled abs could not facade his shitty personality.

"Yeonjun said I could stay here tonight, Now move." You continued before making your way inside the apartment.

You did feel a bit intrusive and rude but your day had already been a mess and dealing with Kang Taehyun was icing on the cake.

Ignoring and engaging in minimum conversation with him was your goal.

Reminiscing the comfy feeling of a bed, you made a beeline for Yeonjun's room and turned the knob to open the door.

"What the fuck," A string of curse words left your mouth as you saw the room before you.

It was completely trashed and the stench of freshly applied paint almost made you dizzy.

"Yeonjun's room is being renovated, didn't he tell you that?" A voice mocked you from behind.

Taehyun was now leaning against the door frame -now fully dressed- and drying his hair with a hand towel.

You wanted to cry. You knew that this proposition was too good to be true. Breaking down over a trashed room was childish but anyone in your place would feel the same way. Everything was getting on your nerves.

There was no way you could sleep in the living room too, your fingers were already numb and your throat felt scratchy.

"I'm gonna kill him," You muttered under your breath before taking your bag and making your way to the exit only to be stopped by Taehyun midway.

"Hey I can't let you leave. Yeonjun would kill me, also not to forget you are sort of homeless aren't you?" He said raising a hand.

Your eyes widened. So he knew, great.

The last thing you wanted to be infront of him was vulnerable and embarrassed, but here you were.

As much as you hated to admit it, he was right you didn't have any other choice.

"So where will I sleep?" You asked raising an eyebrow, refusing to admit defeat.

"In there," Taehyun replied pointing to his bedroom.

"No way I'm sharing a bed with you. You pervert, " You answered him in disbelief.

But the thing was even though you hated Taehyun, you knew that he won't make a move on you without consent.

Deep down you still trusted him.

You, Yeonjun and Taehyun went way back. They were the first two people you ran into on your first day of college, when you were a naive, insecure friendless student. They were the ones who took you in and made you feel welcomed.

"Oh no, You'll take the floor," Taehyun answered bringing you back to reality.

What?

You stared at him blankly as he broke out in a fit of laughter.

"God it feels so good to have the upper hand," He continued.

Suddenly the thought of walking home alone and witnessing your roommate doing the dirty didn't phase you anymore.

So once more you picked your stuff and started walking towards the door when you felt Taehyun grab you wrist.

You'd had enough. Fuck avoiding him.

"What the hell do you want Taehyun. I've already had a crappy day as it is, spent my entire day searching a useless manuscript for that Professor dimwit, ran two fucking stations only to miss my bus home and walked here in this freezing weather with people sucking off each other's face all around me. So No, I don't have the energy to deal with your petty humiliations. Let go." You turned around lashing at him.

Your fists were bawled and your lips quivered. Taehyun always worked you up, he made you feel weak and vulnerable and you hated him for that.

Something changed in Taehyun's expression and his eyes softened. He loosened his hold on your wrist as you pulled it away from him.

"You can take the room. I didn't plan on sleeping there anyways, got some assignments to finish," Taehyun finally spoke up, his voice soft and laced with guilt.

You stared at him for a minute too long and then without saying another word you made your way to the room and shut it behind you.

You sunk down on the floor, once inside.

Grabbing a fistful of your hair you let out a shaky breath.

This wasn't fair. While the rest of the world was busy celebrating love and happiness with their significant others, you were left here moping in the bedroom of the boy, one you managed to successfully detach and despise in your mind for almost a year now.

The reason you were so hostile towards Taehyun wasn't because he was sort of pretentious or his face was too annoyingly perfect, it wasn't because he was so calm in situations where one shouldn't be.

The true reason was that Taehyun made you feel things that you would never allow yourself to feel.

Everything thing he used to do drove you wild. Made your heartbeat like crazy whenever he was around you, the touch of his hands, the small comforting smiles which adorned his face when your eyes met.

You were always rational with your love life, never reaching for places you couldn't but Taehyun was an exception.

He led you on, starred in all your hopeful fantasies and dreams but then left one day only to leave them shattered on the ground.

"Y/n I think you've got it wrong. It's best for us to remain friends don't you think? Best friends can't hurt each other,"

Except Taehyun was wrong. Best friends can hurt each other, they can leave scars which can take ages to heal. Those words still haunted you to this day.

He had rejected you that day.

But it wasn't the response that upset you the most, it was the shitty excuse he gave you, because the promise to remain friends was just as difficult. You could never look at him the same way again, the pain eventually grew into hatred and here you were now.

Holding back tears, you finally looked around the room. Nothing had changed since the last time you've been here, Taehyun had always been a pretty minimalistic person. Everything felt the same except for two photo frames which were placed on his bedside table.

You went up and examined the two pictures closely. One was of the day when Yeonjun, Taehyun and you decided to take a spontaneous road trip to your home town. A smile spread across your lips as you recalled the happy memories.

However it was the second picture which earned a gasp from you. In it, you were shoving a handful of Chocolates into Taehyun's mouth laughing while he looked at the camera with mischievous eyes, hands wrapped around your arms.

You couldn't understand why Taehyun would still keep this picture with him, nevertheless framed and on his bed side table.

Before you could think about anything else, you felt a knock on the door. Startled you dropped the frame on the bed and went ahead to open it.

Taehyun stood there in front of you, holding a jumper in his hands.

"I have to grab some books and here, I figured you would be cold," His expression still apologetic.

His hair was messy and a hint of sleepiness evident in his eyes.

You took the sweater from him and moved to the side to let him in.

Your heart skipped a beat when you brought the jumper closer to your face. It smelled like him.

"I'm sorry Y/n. I acted like an asshole earlier," Taehyun said minutes after, eyes still settled on his giant bookshelf.

For a moment you didn't know how to respond but then you spoke,

"I'm sorry too for lashing out on you, it's just today's been a pain in the ass for me,"

As you were speaking you realised, how much time it had been since the two of you spoke without bickering, let alone apologize to each other.

"I thought you'd probably be out tonight celebrating," He continued now looking at you.

You scoffed at this.

"My love life has been in shambles since forever," you replied letting out a pathetic laugh.

Since you.

"Same for me, if that makes anything better,"

Even though the three of you did not hang out together anymore. Yeonjun always used to give you updates on Taehyun's life even though you pretended not to care.

You had no idea where this conservation was leading. At any moment you could ask him to leave, but there was piece of you that wanted him to stay just like it did a year ago.

"Actually I- uh got something to give you, just a second," Taehyun said abruptly before leaving the room.

He exited the room in such a hurry that you didn't even have time to process what he said.

Something for you? What could it be? The thumping of your heart making it hard to concentrate on anything.

The door opened again and this time Taehyun returned with a mug in his hand.

He stood beside you next to the bed and placed the mug in your hands.

"What's this?" You asked him, puzzled.

"I know the circumstances aren't the best but I couldn't break the promise," Taehyun replied, his expression soft and a little embarrassed.

You still couldn't get it.

"I can't cook or bake to save my life so here's some hot chocolate instead....Happy Valentines Day Y/n."

That's when it hit you. A few years ago you and Taehyun had made a made a pact with each other, for every valentine's if either of you were single or sulky the other person's job would be to look out for them and cook them a 'comfort' food of their choice.

Taehyun remembered. Of course he did, that explains that picture he kept on his nightstand.

You were overwhelmed to say the least.

"Hopefully this makes everything just a bit better," Taehyun finished off.

That's when you heard your own sniffs and felt a tear running down your cheek.

Taehyun looked at you with a panicked expression as he sat beside you and opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off.

"I can't do this anymore Taehyun, it's too unbearable. I did everything to get over this Despised you, avoided you but I'm just so weak. I'm pathetic," Even though your vision was blurry, you could still clearly see Taehyun's sculpted face in front of you.

It was pathetic really. The facade you managed to pull off for so long came undone the moment he confronted you.

Beomgyu and Jeongin would probably laugh their heads off and label you a loser if they ever got to know about this.

But Taehyun pulled you into a hug, his warm embrace enveloping the whole of you.

"Don't say that, I hurt you and it's my fault. I was a coward Y/n, I didn't want to ruin or complicate things but it only caused pain for both of us,"

He pulled back to face you.

"I know I can't ever make up for the things I said that day, but- fuck it I miss you. There are so many things I want to say that I couldn't back then but most importantly Y/n I- I love you."

Although your mind was an emotional mess. Hearing those three words from Taehyun made the butterflies in your stomach wild. The school girl crush, the giddy feeling you felt everytime Taehyun was near you returned.

"Same," you blurted out meekly not trusting yourself to form coherent sentences.

This earned a wide grin from Taehyun, giving a perfect view of his pearly white teeth and adorable eye whiskers.

He placed a hand on your cheek, wiping the tears and then leaned in dangerously close.

"May I?" He whispered against you lips and without thinking twice you smashed your them against his. This exact moment, you dreamt of it countless time. Being in Taehyun's arms was something you thought you could only see in your dreams. Actually you still weren't sure if this all was real or you were just lost in another dreamland. .

"I've missed you so much y/n oh my god" Taehyun breathed against your lips.

What eventually started soft and slow turned hot and steamy in a matter of seconds. Hands roaming all over and your entire body melting into his.

When Taehyun slipped his hands under your jumper to take it off you suddenly pulled away from him, breaking the kiss.

"What happened, did I do something wrong?" Taehyun asked with a worried look.

You shook your head quickly and pointed to the mug now placed on the nightstand.

"The hot chocolate will get cold," You replied.

Hearing this, Taehyun visibly relaxed and entwined his fingers with yours.

"I can make you a thousand cups of hot chocolate later but right now let's focus on us," He said in a deep voice, laying you down further on the bed.

"Am I really going to get laid with Kang Taehyun on fucking Valentine's day? Past us would be cringing so hard," You teased him further.

Taehyun replied by burying his face in your neck.

"Happy Valentines Day baby. Lets believe in love again."

The next day when you woke up to a naked Taehyun sleeping peacefully beside you. You had to pinch yourself to convince yourself that this wasn't a dream.

Never in a million years you thought such a disastrous day could have such a perfect ending.

Taking a sip of the cold chocolate milk from the night before, you started down at his beautiful face.

He gently stirred beside you, eyes opening slowly.

"Good morning, you're real" He speaks in a hoarse voice, eyelids still heavy with sleep.

"Yes Tyun, I am" You smiled at his cute state.

Taehyun pulled you closer to his side and whispered in your hair, "Did I tell you, you make all my problems go away"

"Speaking of problems-" You started but were cut off by the loud bang of a door opening.

"Hey Taehyun, Did Y/n come here- WHAT THE FUCK MY POOR EYES. DO YOU TWO NOT KNOW THERE ARE OTHER PEOPLE LIVING IN THIS HOUSE" Yeonjun screamed covering his eyes.

You giggled at Yeonjun's mortifying reaction and slipped yourself deeper into the sheets.

"You're the one walking in without knocking, get the fuck out yeonjun" Taehyun screamed back, throwing a pillow at his direction.

951 notes · View notes

byuljoonie · 1 year ago

Text

Cherry Airhead // pjm

You want a piece?

pairing: Jimin × fem!reader

genre: smut, roommates to lovers, friends to lovers, unedited so beware

word count: 2.3k

warnings: smut, unsafe sẽx, dirty talk, pet names, c0čk worship, spit play, fuckboy!Jimin, pj bottoms…, oral, (he’s big), dom!jimin x sub!reader, rough jimin, eavesdropping Jimin

note: I put a little too much effort into the plot so the smut isn’t exactly how I want it…hope you still enjoy it 🕴🏾reader request coming next

“Jimin! Someone’s at the door for you!” you yelled unenthusiastically. Waiting for the long haired man to emerge from his room.

“Are you his…girlfriend?” The unknown woman questioned sourly, looking you up and down in disgust.

“No, I’m his roommate. But we fuck sometimes,” you say seriously, letting your ego take over and guide the conversation. If she was going to be rude so were you.

You watched the color drain from her skin, looking like a deer in oncoming headlights.

“Coming!” Jimin bursts from his room with a towel wrapped around his waist. Water still dripping from his freshly showered hair onto his exposed chest.

“Who’s her-“ he said out of breath, stopping when you moved over to reveal the guest.

“What are you doing here, Hyejin?” He said coldly, standing unimpressed in the living room.

“When did you get a girlfriend, Jimin?” She asked looking between you and Jimin.

“Girlfriend?” He questioned confused. You couldn’t hold it in anymore, you burst into a small fit of laughter. Jimin leaning against the couch, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Okay I lied, but I just think you shouldn’t be a bitch to other people in their own home.” You confessed with a shrug, walking past Jimin with a pat on his shoulder.

You entered your room not interested in the argument Jimin was about to have with another one of his obsessed conquests.

After 10 minutes of muffled yelling and the slam of a door, a knock rang through your apartment. Jimin was at your bedroom door.

“Open the door, Sunny.” He said voice rumbling from the other side of the door.

“Oh, now I’m your sunshine. What about her?” You asked playfully, opening the door for him.

“Don’t start. Did she say anything to you?” He asked concernedly, searching your face for answers.

“I’m fine, Park. You should pick nicer fuck buddies though.” You say nonchalantly walking back over to your bed.

Jimin trailed closely behind you, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him. You squeaked in surprise, holding onto Jimin’s arm.

“What was that, sunshine?” He questioned deeply. “I don’t think I heard you clearly.” Your heart began to race and you quickly removed your hand from his bicep.

“Nothing.” You murmur looking down at the space between the two of you.

He placed his hand under your chin, gently making you look at him. He cocked an eyebrow in suspicion.

“Hmm, well go get the popcorn ready. I’ll get dressed so we can start our movie night.” He said sweetly, flashing you a gummy smile before poking his tongue out at you.

“Did you eat another cherry airhead in the shower? Your tongue is bright red!” You exclaimed slapping his bare chest. He recoiled in pain, a faux pout now on his lips.

“Hey, I blame you for putting a candy bowl in my room,” he said shrugging his shoulders. “You want a piece?” He questioned teasingly, walking to leave your room.

“Oh! Let’s wear the Pajamas you bought us yesterday. I think it’d be cute.” Jimin said down the hall, not listening for your rebuttal.

After changing into your plaid Pajama shorts and one of Jimin’s shirts, you walked out to the living room to prepare the movie.

“We’re watching horror movies right, Minie?” You yelled while bending over to check the dvd player.

“What did you say, hon- woah.” Jimin said, stopping in his tracks.

His eyes fell directly on your ass, the bulge in his pants growing slightly.

“What? I said we’re watching horror movies right?” You asked obliviously. Squatting down to grab a handful of dvds from under the TV console.

Jimin clears his throat eyes still unmoving. He walked further into the living room, plopping on the couch behind you.

“I’ll take your silence and heavy breathing as a yes. Anyways the pizza should be here soon.” You said standing up to turn around.

You were met with the sight of your best friend shirtless and slightly sweaty on your shared couch. Your eyes widened at the sight, heat invading your cheeks.

Maybe you did have a small crush on Jimin, but how could you not when he looks like a walking art piece?

“I-I’m hungry,” you stuttered out shyly. Trying not to stare at Jimin’s lap.

“Me too,” Jimin smirked running his eyes over your body unapologetically. Meeting your gaze with hungry eyes.

“I’m gonna get some water. I’ll be right back,” you said trying to scurry away to the kitchen.

Miscalculating your step, you tripped and landed in Jimin’s lap with a huff. Bracing your hands on his shoulders unconsciously.

“Oh my god I’m sorry—“ you cried out trying to stand up quickly. Jimin grabbed your waist, pulling you back down onto his lap.

“Jimin, what are you doing?” You asked breathlessly. Going to stand up a second time, only to fail against his strong grip.

“Sit down.” He demanded intensely.

You didn’t move another inch, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“You know, you look very cute in these shorts.” He said moving a hand to play with the hem of your pants.

“I’ll go get you some water, Sunny.” He placed his hands on your waist and gently moved you to the next cushion.

“Thank you,” you muttered quietly, eyes darting from the floor to the print in Jimin’s pants. He noticed immediately, smiling as he brought you a glass of water.

“So what movie are we watching?” He asked casually, sitting on the cushion closest to you. You told him about the movie, stumbling over some parts as your mind was elsewhere.

Shortly after the movie started, you guys ate dinner and trash talked your way through the cliché horror tropes.

The next movie was frightening, sending you flying into Jimin’s lap after the 4th jump scare in a row. He happily held onto your hips, glancing down at you every so often.

You felt something hard against your ass, and shifted uncomfortably in response.

“Hey, stop moving Y/N.” Jimin grunted trying to hold you still.

“I feel something hard, it’s uncomfortable Jimin.” You complained, frustrated and grinding down harder.

The next noise you heard made you freeze. A growl? Did he just growl?

“If you would stop moving so much I wouldn’t be hard, Sunshine.” He stated dryly, “well seeing you in those shorts is also the reason.”

“JIMIN-“ you yelped embarrassed. Hiding your face in his chest immediately. He placed a finger under your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

“You think I don’t know, Y/N. Hmm?” He crooned, looking down into your eyes, his infamous smirk still glued on his lips. The movie suddenly forgotten.

“I’ve seen where your attention has been tonight,” he said cockily. “You don’t think I’ve noticed your eyes on my lap practically the entire movie?”

“I’m not as stupid as you think I am, baby.” He smiled sinisterly, making your mouth water in fright. The nickname igniting something fiery inside you.

“I hear all those pretty noises you make almost every night. Just begging for me to come ruin you.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, Park.” You lied defensively, swatting Jimin’s hand away from your face. The memories of your perverted activities flashing through your mind.

“I’m not one of your toys, Jimin. I won’t fall at your feet.” You stated stubbornly, still sitting in his lap.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N. I’ll make you scream louder than any toy could.” He said grabbing your face roughly. Smiling at the whimper that barely escaped your throat.

“You’re special, darling. Someone made just for me,” he said trailing soft kisses down your jaw to your neck.

“I’ve been longing to taste you, sweetheart. Be a good girl and tell the truth.”

Your breathing had become erratic, Jimin’s feather light lips sending your mind into a frenzy. How could you give in so easily?

You melted into his touch, moaning when he left a particularly prominent love bite on your collarbone.

“Mine” he said, kissing his way up your neck, to your cheek, until he finally met your lips.

Your lips molded perfectly together, Jimin grabbed your waist pulling you closer in his lap. You both pulled apart to catch your breath, a light sheen of sweat coating your foreheads.

“See? I’ve barely done anything Sunny, but I can feel your crying pussy through your shorts.” He groaned, reaching down to grab the hem of your pants.

“I want you to use your words now, pretty girl,” he said running his hands beneath your shorts. He stopped just before he reached your pussy.

“If you want me here,” he tapped two fingers over your clothed clit. “You’ll have to get on your knees and beg,” he deadpanned, kissing the tip of your nose.

You nodded in response, pealing yourself away from him. You climbed to the floor, getting on your knees in front of him.

“Please Jimin,” you began softly, doe eyes trained on his.

“You can do better than that, Sunshine.” He interjected, palming himself through his pants. Your eyes widened at the sight, mouth watering for him.

“Been needing your dick for so long,” you continued nervously. “Want the real thing,” you beg pathetically, crawling forward and placing your hands on his thighs.

He pulled his pants down his legs, trailing his underwear right behind them. You watched his cock spring free, the mushroom tip leaving a sticky trial of pre-cum on his happy trail.

“You want my dick, Sunny? Hmm?” He cooed mockingly, watching you shift cutely in front of him.

He grabbed your face roughly with one hand, craning your neck to look at him. “Open,” he demanded calmly.

He squeezed your cheeks forcing your mouth open. Spitting into it as if he owned you. “Now swallow.”

He smiled happily at you, enjoying the control he had over your actions. “You can taste it, baby.” He said releasing your face with a quick kiss to your nose.

You pushed up on your knees, reaching forward to finally come in contact with his member. Your hand was too small to fit the whole thing.

You wrapped both hands around it, letting out a shaky breath before taking him into your mouth.

“It’s s-so big,” you mewled, hands sticky and furiously moving up and down his shaft. He groaned at your words, loving the attention.

“Tastes so good,” you said before engulfing him again. The sound of him fucking your throat filling the living room.

“Shit—you’re so good at sucking my dick Y/N.” Jimin said moaning at the sight of your bobbing head. “Don’t wanna cum yet, hold on Sunny,” he grunted. You removed your head in frustration, missing the taste of him on your tongue.

He reached down to pull you back into his lap, planting a kiss on your lips. “Good job, princess.”

“Strip for me, Y/N.” Jimin demanded tugging on the waistband of your shorts.

You shakily stood up from his lap, quickly removing the plaid shorts for him. Gripping your forearm nervously as Jimin inspected every inch of your exposed skin.

“You look delicious, Sunny.” He said lazily stroking his cock, eyes still focused on your body.

He motioned for you to lay on the couch, sitting back to give you more room. You did as you were told, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as he towered over you.

“I’m gonna fuck you in these, so precious.” He whispered hotly in your ear, toying with your panties. Sliding then to the side, he began rubbing small circles across your clit.

Hushing you after a string of moans escaped your lips. “This my shirt?” He questioned, running his other hand under the soft fabric. His hand gliding across your skin effortlessly, like he already knew the map of your soul.

You nodded, feeling his hair brush against your cheek at the motion. He hummed in delight, grabbing your breast and squeezing.

You felt the tip of his cock graze against your clit, making you to shudder under him. He started to grind against you, sending waves of shock running through your body.

“Mmfp—can’t take it anymore, need you” Jimin flexed his hips forward, groaning as your pussy engulfed him.

You whimpered at the stretch, tears clouding your vision at the feeling. You wrapped your arms around his neck loving the way he grunts in your ear.

“So soft and hot, Sunny. Could fuck you all day.” He said pulling out slightly. Rocking forward before he could miss the contact of your skin.

“Please fill me up, Jimin.” You begged into his neck, “don’t wanna be empty.”

He chuckled at your words, his smile quickly being replaced with an “O,” expression. You clenched around him again, relishing in the whimper he released.

He swallowed another whimper, rhythmically slapping his hips against yours. He placed a hand on your lower stomach, pressing down for your reaction.

A symphony of moans rang through your living room. The obscene squelching and slapping sounds drawing you closer to your orgasm. You felt your stomach bulge with every thrust, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“Gonna paint your pretty tummy with my cum, baby.” He placed a hand over your head to brace himself. Slamming back into you aggressively.

You screamed in pleasure, clawing at his back in desperation. You felt your orgasm wash over you. Jimin not easing his movements.

“Fuck—so good for me,” he grunted. “Love watching your pretty face, Y/N.”

You blushed in response, mind and body still reeling from Jimin’s touch. You felt his thrusts become sloppy, a guttural growl coming from his lips as he slipped from inside of you.

He eagerly squeezed his cock, stroking it rapidly as he watched your ruined body underneath him. His eyes closed momentarily, his hips stuttering as he came on your stomach.

Your chests heaved with heavy breathing, Jimin grabbing a towel from the kitchen to clean you up.

“Round 2 in the shower?”

The end.

(Sorry it was short, just supposed to be a quick smut.) (There will be a pt.2)

257 notes · View notes

essentiallyleaf · 1 year ago

Text

day 02. pegging. with. chuu.

2013 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, futa!idol x male reader, roommates with benefits, sub reader, softie dom chuu, making out, blowjobs (reader receiving and giving), masturbation, mutual masturbation, pegging, pet names, the writing kinda just gets worse as it progresses, it wasn’t supposed to be this long.

notes.

chuu has a dick. if you’re into that, great, if you’re not, i’m sorry, hopefully you’ll like some of the next ones(?). i guess that’s kind of the point of kinktober? anyway, love your parents. intensely, leaf.

She always had those unexpected reactions, her tone or expression often clashing with her words (you saw her smile the widest at “Fuck that bitch and her fancy new whatever, can I suck you off?”), but when she said you looked tense and she’d help you loosen up, you didn’t expect that.

Jiwoo was just your roommate, not exactly the “just your roommate” that asks to copy your homework and not to make noise after 10, more like the “just your roommate” that you have unprompted makeout sessions with during movie night, or right before going to class, or anytime she felt like it, really. It wasn’t uncommon that while making out she would casually offer you a blowjob, what was uncommon is that you’d decline.

One time you were feeling up her boobs and asked to repay the favor, and she asked you if you were sure, said that she’d understand if you never wanted to kiss her, or even talk to her again, then lowered her pants and underwear and showed you her 6.5-inch monster. You simply pecked her and got on your knees. It was your first time, but you did “great, baby boy”.

Since then the two of you started masturbating in front of each other, Jiwoo even using her black dildo on special occasions (you never knew whether to look at her veiny cock or her pretty puppy face, simultaneously focused and completely lost in pleasure) and jerking each other off slowly while kissing. Some of her cum accidentally hit your closed eyelid once, she said she was so sorry, you just picked it up with your finger and licked it off, satisfied. She smiled and cleaned your dick with her tongue.

One day Jiwoo came home looking distracted. She was worried about her driving test (“I’ll get my license when I need one”; she ended up needing one to get from afternoon classes to evening shifts at the coffee shop she worked at, the subway couldn’t get her there in time) and about finals getting closer, she said; you knew there was something else. You made her hot pot that night, then you watched Ratatouille together. She loves Ratatouille. You asked if she was tired, if there was something else she wanted to do. Twenty minutes later you were laying on the couch on top of her, naked.

“I’m putting it in, okay?”

She came three times that night. Before you both fell asleep while spooning on the couch, nothing but a blanket covering your bodies (it was well into May, so it wasn’t that cold), you whispered in her ear:

“I think you’ll do great on your date”

She turned her head. “H- How did you know?”

“I didn’t”

She opened her mouth like she was trying to say something, then probably realized there was no need to. You hugged her tighter.

The date went pretty well. It was a girl she met at the coffee shop, she was a pre-med student who drank lots of coffee and read a little too much Nietzsche for someone her age. Jiwoo said she was just “interested in the human mind”, which is certainly one way of looking at it. Things ended up not working out, but Jiwoo took it surprisingly well. As for you, you’re all for your roommate making her own choices and more than happy to just support her, but you can’t say you were particularly sad about it.

Maybe it’s for the same reason that tonight, you let her have it. You let her play with you, follow her lead, and then, who knows.

What matters is that right now, Jiwoo just jumps onto the couch and starts simply kissing your neck, ridding you of your shirt to access your collarbones, lightly squeezing your cock through your pants in the meantime. You feel up her boobs through her beige t-shirt before she quickly takes it off with your help along with your jeans and her gray waist-high pants, taking no more than twenty seconds. You’re used to her being a little impatient from time to time. She keeps making out with you as she gropes your butt with both hands, humping you increasingly stronger as both of you become erect.

She only stops to get rid of the remaining underwear on both of your bodies, smiling like she has something in mind.Then she extends her index finger in front of your face.

“Wait one second”

You’re not surprised when she comes back from her room with a bottle of lube in her hand. You are surprised when, in the same tone she reminds you to water the plants, gently, but delivering the feeling that it’s something she cares about, ‘cause “without them, it wouldn’t feel like home!”, she tells you:

“Get on all fours”

“Noona?” She’s two years older than you.

“I know it’s scary, okay? I was scared too, but I promise, I promise it’ll feel good. And if it hurts even a little, we stop immediately, I kiss you boo-boo and we watch The Incredibles while eating ice cream” You love The Incredibles, and you love ice cream, but the thought of Jiwoo’s girth splitting your anus open was still pretty fucking scary.

“How about if we skip the kissy boo-boo part?”

It wasn’t what she said, it was her big sister smile, the smile of someone who cares, the smile of someone who, if need be, would protect you from your greatest stan, turned evil after you rejected him, who now wants to pretend-destroy your city and then pretend-save it to look like a hero, or from, a washed restaurant owner, that wants to kill your rat friend, who indirectly cooks rejuvenating dishes, secretly controlling your movements by pulling your hair, I guess?

Anyway, you get on all fours and she softly pats your butt and lower back before squirting some lube on her hands and spreading it thoroughly on her shaft. Then she puts her index and middle fingers on your asshole and starts gently massaging around it.

“Hey, it might be a little cold, okay?”

It is a little cold. But the first phalanx of the first finger feels unexpectedly okay. She slowly goes in deeper and deeper, observing your facial expressions, because seeing you three quarters from the back is enough for her, and listening for any signs of discomfort. She only hears soft mewls, so she places the second finger on your rim and waits. You gradually get used to the feeling and relax more and more, until Jiwoo can push the second digit in, this time even slower than the first. You struggle a little more with this one.

“Shhh, you’re doing so good for me, baby boy” she whispers while kissing your nape. Her reassuring words help you relax a little more, until she can get most of her slender finger in.

“I’m gonna start moving. You just tell me if it hurts, yeah?” Then she begins rotating her fingers inside you, covering your insides with lube. Now that you’ve adjusted to the temperature, it feels surprisingly quite nice. As soon as she deems you appropriately lubed up, she slowly takes her fingers out as you groan. When she’s done, you feel strangely hollow.

“Good boy, my good boy, you did so well” she showers you with compliments while repeatedly kissing you on the cheek. You half-smile back.

“Wanna stop?” You just shake your head.

She takes position behind you on the couch and aligns her rod with you, placing her tip on your asshole. She starts lightly pushing in as you moan out loud, her girth much wider than her fingers. You look back at her and nod to go in, and so she does. You growl as she gradually makes her way into your hole, one of her hands now on your shoulder, the other on your hip.

As you look over your shoulder, asking yourself when she’s finally going to bottom out, she smiles, almost surprised herself.

“A- I’m in”

You take a couple minutes to get adjusted, two minutes filled with “You did a great job, honey”’s and kisses on your shoulders, neck, and lips.

Then she slowly pulls back out, until only her tip is in you. You feel that strange hollowness again.

“Just go in, what are you waiting for?” You look behind, questioningly.

“Haha~ I knew you would like this” (Touché.)

You can’t say the same, but when she begins thrusting back and forth at a glacial pace, making sure to hit every corner of your hole, any thought of suppressing your moans and “Yes, noona”’s to try to keep a semblance of pride has gone completely out of the window and you’re now in the palm of Jiwoo’s hand. So as she accelerates her rhythm, she simply goes:

“There, there” and moves her right hand to your still erect cock to jerk you off. The built up stimulation from her fingers, to her dick, to now her hand caressing your length makes you explode after only a couple strokes, and many long stripes of white messily paint the couch. Your orgasm lasts what feels like an eternity and you keep growling out loud for more than a few seconds as Jiwoo wraps her hands around you, trying her best to support your limp body.

“You okay?” You still need to take a few deep breaths before you’re able to answer.

“Fuck, that was intense” you’re talking into a pillow, no strength left to even turn to face her.

“You wanna feel something more intense?”

“What? I just came, I’m spent, I have nothing left in me!”

“I’ll do all the work, I won’t even touch your dick! Plus, I still haven’t cum…” She pouts slightly. Fuck, this girl knows you.

“‘Kay, what do I do?”

“Just lay with your back on the couch and your legs open. Get comfortable, I need you to relax~” she says almost melodically, caressing from the top of your head, to your temples, down to your cheeks.

When she sees your eyes close in relaxation, she aligns herself with your hole for a second time and pushes in, this time much more easily. She bottoms out in just a few seconds and in this position, it feels she’s reaching much deeper into you. She notices when you tightly grip a pillow in each hand and groan below her, still not able to express your pleasure through proper words, so she wrings them out of you.

“You like, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, noona. Please keep going”

“At your service, baby boy”

She immediately gets into a faster rhythm this time, knowing she won’t last long either. As she pistons in and out of your hole, you feel your guts being rearranged, spikes of pleasure reinvigorating you with energy. Energy that needs to flow out one way or another, and it does through your hands gripping Jiwoo’s asscheeks, guiding, no, throwing her pelvis into you and back out, and through your abs flexing to help your mouth reach up to the lips of the girl above you.

The two of you are now symmetrically slamming your respective hips into each other’s and moaning in each other’s mouths, only partially silencing the sounds of pure, raw sex leaving your apartment. And symmetrically the two of you reach your peaks.

You start spurting the last few drops of cum you have in your body just as she pulls out and jerks herself onto you, two sources of white nectar coming together on your abs, chest, even chin and neck as you and Jiwoo are still French kissing, and keep doing so for a good minute after coming down from your highs, her body now resting on yours.

You wrap one hand around her back and caress her hair with the other while kissing the side of her head.

“Haha~ I take it you liked it”

“Some parts of my body definitely loosened up”

The joke isn’t funny, but she chuckles anyway.

“Thank you, noona”

footnotes.

hope you liked it! i wasn’t super happy about some parts, but that’s okay(?). i’m kinda worried i’ll write the same characters over and over again, just changing the names. hopefully it’s just that two different idols in a row gave me the same vibes. we’ll see. may you have a blessed day, dear reader. mmwah. kindly, leaf.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #girl group smut #idol smut #female idol smut #male reader #male reader insert #male reader smut #idol x reader #idol x male reader #loona #chuu #loona smut #chuu smut #loona chuu smut

351 notes · View notes

rayslittlekitten · 7 months ago

Text

Draw Me Like One of Your French Girls

A/N: This is finally done! I swear I started this like two years ago inspired by a Writer Wednesday prompt and I kinda got stuck trying to paint the exact picture I had in my mind and I think I finally succeeded. Okay maybe a little less detailed, but it's got the point I wanted to make across. This is kinda like a villain origin story. I chose to pair him with an OC (who also has physical descriptions) instead of reader character because this is really all about Dieter and I don’t think the reader would want to be the OC anyways. Also thanks to the lovely @lovebarefootblonde for beta reading!

Rating: T/M

Word Count: ~4.5k

Pairing: Young!Dieter Bravo (18+) x Named OFC

Plot: Dieter stumbles into his own Hollywood movie, but it's not the ending he expected.

Contains: mentions of sex, recreational drug use, angst

The sun is starting to set and palm tree silhouettes sway in front of the pink and orange skyline. The Golden Hour. The light casts long shadows as the glowing star descends. Dieter quickly pedals, cutting through alleyways and side streets to avoid the rush hour traffic and tourists.

Finally, he bursts through the front door of his apartment holding a take out bag and sweating like he just ran a marathon. He pants and tries to catch his breath as he quickly makes his way to the kitchen and shoves the bag into the nearly empty refrigerator. After slamming the door shut, he jogs over to the bathroom where he passes his roommate on the couch.

"I brought home some leftovers if you want it," Dieter quickly mentions.

"Is it a cheeseburger?" his roommate asks, his eyes never leaving the television screen.

"No! It's spaghetti and meatballs!" Dieter shouts from the bathroom where he starts getting rid of his sweaty and smelly clothes from waiting tables all day after turning on the shower.

"There's a party happening downtown tonight. Are you going?"

"No, I got this gig last minute. I gotta leave in like 10 minutes," he replies before shoving his toothbrush into his mouth.

"Come on, there's gonna be so many women there!" his roommate comments.

Dieter rushes through cleaning his teeth and spits into the sink.

"I'm working the Titanic premiere at the Chinese theater," he shouts before jumping into the shower, not even waiting for the water to warm up. He shrieks at the shock of the cold temperature.

After Dieter's record quick shower, he throws on some decently clean clothes after giving them a sniff and then shoves his feet into his shoes.

"The Titanic premiere? Get out! Who the hell did you have to blow to get that gig?" his roommate asks skeptically.

"No one. One of my coworkers also works catering and someone dropped out," Dieter shrugs. "I'm getting paid to serve stars. I'm not passing up on that."

"Well, look at you, climbing the Hollywood social ladder. Next, you're gonna tell me you're the new Leonardo DiCaprio."

"You could be the next Leonardo DiCaprio if you actually went to auditions instead of waiting for someone to notice you," Dieter shoots back.

"You do you man. I have my own methods," he replies smugly.

"I gotta go. See you later. Please do the dishes before you go to this party," Dieter adds before grabbing an apple out of a fruit bowl sitting on the kitchen counter and taking off.

***

As Dieter races to the theater on his bike, riding as quick as he possibly could while weaving through traffic, he slows down for a moment when he sees the large crowd lined up by the red carpet outside of the beautiful iconic theater. His breath is taken away as he admires the glitz and glamor in front of him.

The Grauman’s Chinese Theatre is a place he’s gotten well acquainted with since moving to Los Angeles. It’s one of his favorite places to go in his free time, watching all the new film releases. Sometimes multiple times if he enjoys them that much. However, he’s never actually attended a movie premiere and the elegant transformation has him in a chokehold.

As he approaches the theater, he hops off mid-roll as he slows down and hears a loud roar coming from the fans barricaded off to the side. He can't see who it is, but a limo just pulled up to the front of the theater and the screams get louder as someone steps out of the car and walks down the red carpet. He knows one day, it'll be him walking down that plush red carpet and loved by fans.

He moves quickly to behind the theater where his coworker told him to meet her. He sprints when he finds his coworker right outside the back door appearing to finish putting on her uniform.

"Oh, thank goodness you made it!" She says as she buttons up her uniform vest.

"I got here as quickly as I could." He drops his bike and with his hands on his knees, Dieter pauses to catch his breath.

"We don't have time!" She tosses him his uniform vest.

Dieter instantly throws the vest on.

"Come on! We gotta run," she tells him as she takes off inside.

"What about my bike?" he asks as he throws his bag over his shoulder.

"Bring it in!" she shouts from the long hallway.

Dieter takes his bike with him and rushes inside, letting the door close behind him. He leaves the bike and bag somewhere and she gestures to him to hurry. As he follows her, he buttons up and stuffs his shirt into his pants. By the time they enter the kitchen, he's mostly put together as he smooths out his hair, slicking it back.

He doesn't even get a moment to catch his breath when a tray of hors d'oeuvres get shoved into his hands.

"Go, go, go!" the man in apron shouts as he nudges Dieter towards the swinging doors.

Dieter rushes out while trying not to tip over the tray. He gathers his composure and walks around offering hors d'oeuvres while taking in the celebrities and VIPs. He was so in awe of everything and everyone around him, being in the midst of one of the most important parties celebrating what he believes will be one of the biggest movies of the year. It’s James freakin’ Cameron!

Throughout the night, he continues to walk around with trays of food and beverages while taking everything in. He’s taking notice of what people are wearing, saying, who’s talking to who. Even though he’s not able to mingle with the stars, he’s just as happy that he gets to still, in a way, be in the middle of it all. He was even able to sneak into the theater a few times to watch the movie.

As he makes his way back to the kitchen with an empty tray, suddenly he’s blindsided by a swinging door.

“Oops! I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t know you were behind the door,” the person apologizes.

“You went out the wrong door,” he exclaims while picking up his tray off the floor.

“Are you okay?”

When Dieter looks up at the offending person, his face softens. She looks like a Golden Aged Hollywood star. Her long wavy hair cascades down her exposed back. Her floor-length shiny dress is slinky against her smooth skin, hugging her every curve and dip, and flaring out at her ankles. Her long fanned out lashes and cat eyeliner frame her piercing eyes.

“I… yeah I’m… I’m good,” he stammers, swallowing the saliva pooling in his mouth. “Um, can I help you? Are, are you lost?” He vaguely points to the kitchen doors.

“Say, you happen to know where I can powder my nose?” She asks curiously while tapping the tip of her nose with he satin-covered fingertip.

“Uhhh, the ladies’ room is that way,” he points to a general direction.

“You’re adorable,” she compliments with a giggle after a silent moment studying him. “This is your first time working one of these big Hollywood parties, isn’t it?”

“Uhhh… no?”

Something out of his eyesight catches her attention and she loops her arm through his before quickly swooping him away into a different direction.

“So, uh, what did you say your name was again?” She asks as she briskly moves them farther away from where they were, occasionally glancing back.

“I, I didn’t,” he stutters. “Where are we going?”

“You know where we can just get away from the crowd and maybe get some air?” She asks while scanning the place.

“Yes, I actually do. Follow me!”

Dieter stealthily navigates them both to a section for employees only and out through a back alleyway. She looks behind them and when she sees that nobody has followed them, she lets out a sigh of relief.

“Phew! Thank you so much,” she says to him.

“No problem. So who or what were we running away from back there?” Dieter asks her.

“What are you talking about?” She asks calmly.

“You wanted to get the hell out of there and you kept looking back like you’re checking to see if anyone was following us.”

She ignores his observation, walking off a few feet away to put some distance between them as she takes out a cigarette from her clutch.

“Are you in danger?” Dieter asks.

She scoffs and lets out a chuckle.

“No, nothing dramatic like that,” she responds right before she lights her cigarette and takes a drag.

He notices she doesn’t have a wristband or any visible credentials.

“Are you even supposed to be at this party?” He asks her with narrow eyes.

Suddenly the door swings open, knocking into Dieter and preventing it from opening further. He moves aside and pokes his head around the door.

“Hey, sorry, buddy. Did you happen to see a woman with long dark hair about this tall come out this way? She has on like a long shiny dress?”

“Uhhh…” Dieter glances around the alleyway on both sides and briefly notices the woman hiding behind the door with her back against the brick wall, trying to make herself as invisible as possible.

“I mean, that could be anyone here,” Dieter responds to the man with a small smirk. “But no, I didn’t.” He shakes his head to underline his confirmation.

“What are you doing out here?” He asks with slight suspicion, noticing his uniform. “Shouldn’t you be inside working?”

“I’m just taking a break,” he shrugs.

The woman quietly offers Dieter her lit cigarette behind the door and he takes it from her without raising any alarms.

“A smoke break.” He shows the man the cigarette in his hand before taking a puff himself.

“Well, make it quick. if you see anyone matching that description, please let me know.”

And with that, he hands Dieter his business card.

“Will do, sir!” Dieter nods to him as he takes the card.

Dieter watches the man walk back into the building, and when he is completely out of sight, he looks over to where she is and notices she has started to tiptoe away.

“He’s gone,” Dieter tells her.

She stops in her tracks and turns around.

“Thank you for that. I really appreciate it.” She claps her hands together.

“You owe him some money or something?” Dieter asks, slowly walking towards her while taking another pull of her cigarette.

“Mm, I guess it depends on who you ask,” she replies coyly.

“What does that mean?” He tilts his head curiously.

After what he did for her, she feels she owes him at least an explanation.

“We had just met a few hours ago and I charmed him enough to sneak into this party but I got bored halfway in. I thought I’d be able to rub elbows with some important people, but turns out he doesn’t really know those important people here and if you don’t know anyone, you’d be lucky to even get to say just hi to the people everyone wants to talk to, so I dressed my best for nothing,” she replies.

Dieter checks the business card that was handed to him and it reads:

“Lights, Camera, Catering

Abner Bailey Jones

CEO”

“Shit, I think that was my boss,” Dieter laughs. “But that still doesn’t explain why he’s looking for you and why you’re avoiding him.”

“My guess is he’s expecting something in return for him getting me into the party,” she shrugs.

“Oooh,” he simply replies. “Wait a minute. So you got all glammed up and came here not knowing if you were going to get into the premiere?” He asks.

“You gotta fake it ‘til you make it, right?” She shrugs again as she struts back to him and takes her cigarette back. “So you ever gonna tell me your name? You can call me Beatrice.”

She takes a long drag while waiting for his answer.

“Dieter. My stage name," he explains. "It's a nickname my family gave me when I was a kid because I couldn't pronounce theater correctly which I loved going to all the time and it came out sounding like Dieter and it just stuck. The movie theater is where my passion for acting started."

“Of course you’re an actor. What’s your real name?"

Dieter doesn't answer, but simply flashes a cheeky smirk at her, his dimple creasing deeper into his face.

"Hmm, suddenly so mysterious. Nice to meet you, Dieter.” Beatrice extends her gloved hand out and Dieter shakes it.

“You’re new in town, aren't you?" she asks curiously then drops the cigarette butt on the asphalt.

"Not really. I moved here about six months ago."

"Six months only? Oh, you are new in town," she comments. "Practically a tourist."

"Really?" he asks with a tilt to his head. “What makes you say that?"

"Your eagerness. You still got that sparkle in your eyes. You haven’t been jaded by Hollywood yet.”

“And you have, I suppose?”

Beatrice shrugs and flashes an award-winning smile, her turn to be a little mysterious. Her blood red lips make her perfect teeth even brighter.

“Hey, you wanna get out of here? Got a place we can go to just like, hang out?” she asks.

Dieter looks around to make sure she was talking to him and then stares back at her like a deer in headlights.

“M-me? You wanna hang out with me?” He points to his own chest, shocked.

“Yeah, why does that surprise you?”

“I mean you… you look like that,” he points to her dress. “And well…” He then gestures his hands to himself.

“You look like a star. I just didn’t think women who look like you would want anything to do with people who look like me,” he replies.

“It’s that kinda thinking that makes me want to hang out with you even more. You’re not full of yourself. You seem like a cool guy, Dieter.”

Dieter’s face flushes. “Thank you. You seem super cool too. Like way cooler than me. Oh! My shift ends in…” he glances at his watch. “Maybe another hour.”

“Oh, come on, Dieter!”

Dieter sighs, stuck between staying for the party or going with this beautiful woman in front of him.

“You’re not gonna leave a damsel all in distress, are you?” Beatrice fakes an exaggerated pout while batting her hazel eyes.

“You have a habit of following around strangers?” He teases.

“Strangers? You and me? No. You lied for me and basically saved my life. You’re practically my savior,” she corrects him.

“Saved your life? I thought you weren’t in any danger. ‘Nothing dramatic like that’, I believe you said,” he jabs back.

“You saved me from dying of boredom,” she smirks and it draws a small laugh out of Dieter. “So what do you say, hero?”

Dieter chews on his lower lip as he weighs his options.

“Come on, you really wanna work this boring party? I’m pretty sure half the cast left already,” she gripes. “Oh, I also got…”

Beatrice fishes inside her clutch and pulls out a small baggie.

“Weed! I don’t know if you indulge, but I’m willing to share,” she tempts him as she dangles the baggie. “We can chill out and talk about the movie or whatever.”

After a few more moments, he finally makes a decision.

“Wait right here. I’ll be right back,” Dieter tells her right before he rushes back inside.

“Yes!” Beatrice exclaims enthusiastically.

A few minutes later, Dieter returns with his bag and bike.

“My coworker’s gonna cover for me. She owes me a favor,” Dieter says.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think that’s gonna fit the both of us, especially not while wearing this.” She points out her delicate gown. “Let’s hail a cab!”

***

After grabbing some tacos off a street cart, they end up back at his place.

"I don't think my roommate is home. He went to some party downtown,” Dieter says while giving her a quick tour of his apartment.

When they finally reach his messy bedroom, she notices the canvases sprawled throughout.

"You're an artist?” Beatrice asks while admiring the art.

"I dabble in paint whenever I have the time,” he shrugs. “Which sometimes is a lot,” he laughs.

"Your style is interesting. What do you have going on here?" She asks, pointing to a canvas with splotches of color on it.

"I don't know yet. I just paint whatever comes to my mind." He stuffs his hands into his pockets and shrugs as he walks over to the painting.

"Whenever I get inspired, I just..." He vaguely gestures his hand to the half empty white surface. "I have to admit, many of them have been under the influence," he laughs.

"Oh, yeah? What's your poison of choice?" she asks, suddenly very interested.

“Well, usually just some marijuana. That one was actually a result of the first time I tried mushrooms.” Dieter points to a different painting.

“Have you ever tried cocaine?”

“That’s a rich man’s candy,” Dieter replies, shaking his head.

“I can get some for us,” she offers. “I know someone.”

“You have that kind of money?” He asks curiously with a raised brow, inching closer to her.

“Money isn’t the only currency there is, especially out here in Hollywood."

Dieter studies her for a few moments trying to understand what she could mean.

“A-are you… do you…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the question without possibly offending her.

“No, I’m not a prostitute if that’s what you’re going to ask,” she chuckles. "But you wouldn't be the first person to think that."

"I'm not judging." He puts his hands up in defense. "Everyone's gotta do whatever they can to survive."

"Especially out here in the wild, wild West. People are nice to each other, but in the end it's everyone for themselves." She tips her head to him.

"I wish you success but also hope I get the role instead of you, ha ha ha,” she mocks with an obvious fake laugh and then rolls her eyes. "So much ego."

“Ouch. Sounds like you've been burned before.” Dieter walks over to her.

"Yeah, but I have thick skin. You've gotta have that to be in this game. You've gotta grow one after the umpteenth rejection. Or even worse, having to suck it up and reject a role because you refuse to suck a dick for it— a background role at that. You mind?" She pulls out a joint and the corner of his lips turn up.

“Not if you share," he replies.

She lights it up and after taking a pull, she hands it to him.

"Can't say I've had the opportunity to suck a dick for a role yet," he chuckles before taking a hit.

"Oh, trust me, you will. There is no discrimination. Women might get it more often, but there are definitely men who have fucked to get a role as well."

“I should be, but why am I not surprised?” he chimes in.

“Enough of all this talk. It’s bringing the mood down. Oh, I’ve got an idea!” she says, taking a drag of the joint as she lays down on his bed. “Draw me like one of your French girls.”

"Are you for real?" he asks.

"Yes, I am." She takes another drag and passes the joint back to him before starting to strip down.

Dieter is shocked and speechless. He is in awe as he watches her remove her clothes until she's down to her lacy underwear. Her braless breasts hang freely as she lays down on her side, just like Rose did.

“Are you just gonna stare at me all night or do you need more drugs?” she asks him after a few moments.

“I’m just admiring the art that’s already in front of me,” he replies before taking another toke of the joint. “Not sure if any amount of drugs will do it any justice.”

“You’re sweet,” she comments as warmth rises to her face. “But I wanna see what you see. As they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

Dieter continues to study her for a few more seconds before finally nodding.

“Alright. I think I got something.”

He passes the joint back to her and with that, Dieter starts squeezing some paint onto his palette, mixing colors and spreading them on the canvas. His dark round eyes dart around her face and body, taking in the image in front of him and then finally scraping some paint onto the canvas to spit out what his mind is processing.

She can’t see what he’s doing but notices he’s using a lot of different colors and broad strokes. After about ten minutes of this, a wide smirk plays on his face.

“What? Do I look silly like a Picasso or something?” She asks.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I just can’t believe the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met is naked on my bed, asking me to paint her.”

“You don’t get a lot of women getting naked in your bed for a portrait?” She teases before taking another drag and passing it on to Dieter.

“No,” he laughs, taking a pull of his own.

“Although, I’m not quite naked yet.” Beatrice slides off the bed and struts towards him. “Let me see what you’ve got so far.”

“No, no, it’s not quite finished—“

She takes a peek despite his protests and the breath is knocked out of her.

“Dieter, this is…” She’s at a loss for words.

“Yeah, I know, it’s… it’s really rough and—”

“This is beautiful!” She turns to him.

It’s a somewhat abstract piece with globs of paint spackled onto the canvas. He highlighted the soft features of her face and how her tendrils of long curls hung off her head. Her bright red lips pop out against the browns, beiges and yellows behind it. A splash of blue and green in the background pulls her away from the canvas. While her body isn’t complete yet, the simple and rough outline he laid out seemed intentional. If he hadn’t said anything, she would have thought he was finished.

“Thank you, you’re kind.” His face heats up as he rubs the back of his neck.

“I mean it, Dieter. Seriously! You have a gift.”

Dieter is now the one speechless. His face starts to get warm and pink.

“But maybe you need a closer look to finish this painting. Catch the details you might have missed.”

Beatrice proceeds to push her panties down until they hit the floor, which made his jaw do that as well. She then takes the joint from him, takes a big hit and straddles his lap. Leaning in, her lips graze his as she opens her mouth. He opens up his own and sucks in the smoke into his lungs. After a moment, their lips meet and they begin to make out, working up to fog his windows.

***

When Dieter wasn't at an audition or waiting on people, he spent most of his time with Beatrice. They'd sneak into movie theaters to catch a flick, especially when they were playing classics, which they both appreciated, but many times they ended up making out instead. Sometimes they'd take long strolls along the Santa Monica pier while smoking weed. At some point, she introduced him to cocaine and whatever drugs she was able to get her hands on, and in turn he would churn out pieces of art while admiring her, his muse.

They did almost everything together. They laughed, cried, loved, and tripped together. They even went on auditions together and supported each other in preparing for them. He had such a strong connection with her, sharing the same passions and navigating life together in this crazy movie town. He thought he found his soulmate.

It was the best time of his life. He was living his own Hollywood movie and he felt like he was at the top of the world, just like Jack Dawson, but he then learned he’s no Leonardo DiCaprio. As quickly as he got high on all this, the crash came down just as fast.

"I don't understand," Dieter says, confused.

"You don't make friends in this business, Dieter. You make transactions and deals."

"Wow," he could only muster up with wide eyes. "What about relationships? Friendships? Do you have any connection - a genuine connection - with anyone?"

"The only connections I need are transactional. I give something in exchange for something else, whether it be for survival, pleasure or power."

He scrubs a hand over his face and studies her for a few moments.

"So what was I? What did you get in exchange for... for whatever this is?" Dieter asks, waving his hand between them.

"You had a good time, right?" she shrugs as she throws a small smile.

"This was more than just a good time for me," Dieter shoots back with air quotes. "I-I thought we had something special. We talked about making it in Hollywood together!”

"Oh, honey..." she frowns and reaches for his face, but he flinches, pulling away from her and walking off.

"How do you-- how can you--" Dieter takes a deep breath to compose himself.

"Hollywood is going to eat you alive, sweetheart. You're not cut out for this place," Beatrice shakes her head.

"No," Dieter shakes his head. "You get one fucking role and then you think you're too good for me?"

"It's nothing personal," she explains. "I'm just playing by the rules. I didn't create them. And once I'm in, like in in, I can help maybe you get your foot in too."

Dieter is speechless. He just stares at her with misty eyes and brows turned down, shaking his head in disappointment.

“I don’t need your charity or… or your fucking connections! Did you have to suck a dick for that role?”

She looks back at him in disgust and scoffs.

“No need to be rude. I earned that role,” she replies with her arms crossed.

“That’s not a no,” he retorts.

“Whatever. I don’t need to explain myself,” she huffs. “Look, I just came to tell you I can’t see you anymore and to pick up my things and say goodbye.”

Dieter just stares at her again, trying to process what is unfolding as the reality sinks in.

“Just go. Take your shit and go,” he simply says.

After she gathers her things, she takes one more glance at him.

“Goodbye, Dieter.”

When he doesn’t respond, she finally walks out the door, leaving Dieter to cry alone and pick up the broken pieces of his heart.

#pedro pascal #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x OFC #the bubble

23 notes · View notes

slutforstabbings-archive · 1 year ago

Text

Spend the Night

post-accident!alt!Corey Cunningham x alt!fem!Reader It's been a while since Corey left Haddonfield. He's making a new life in a new town, with a job as a bouncer at a bar that puts on punk and metal shows, living with Craigslist roommates. His past still haunts him, but maybe you can help him forget about it for a couple of hours. contents - smut (18+ MDNI), angst, mentions of past abuse, not-quite-friends to lovers, casual sex, handjob, PiV, subby Corey and slightly domme Reader 5,176 words requested by @ethanhoewke 💕 inspired by these tweets she sent me, and this post I made a couple months back. see my drawing of bouncer!Corey here. @rebel-blue @heartrot666 @wolvesandvampires @multifandom--mess @toxicanonymity @cordelium @hersweetrevenge

Corey leans against the stool in the doorway of the bar, half sitting, half standing, a far away look on his face. When he’d clocked in, the bartenders had been watching some ridiculous action movie with a title like Shoot Bastard or something on mute on the TV above the bar. Shoot Bastard-esque movies remind Corey of Ronald, and thinking of Ron inevitably leads to thinking about Momma. Corey knows he shouldn’t give a shit what happened after he left – how Momma had handled it, how harshly she punished Ron, if she cried, if she misses him – but any little thing can send him down that rabbit hole. Even after all this time, all it takes is 10 seconds of straight to DVD bullshit out of the corner of his eye.

One day, coming up on two years ago now, Ron called Corey into his office. Corey assumed he was in trouble. Earlier in the week he’d had a fight with Joan just as he was about to leave for work. He was so upset when he first got to the garage that he accidentally let all the oil out of a car that had already been given a full oil change. But that wasn’t what Ron wanted to talk about.

“You gotta leave, kid,” he began. “You gotta get out of here. I know I’m not your dad, but I care about you like you’re my son, and I can’t sit around and watch what she does to you, what everybody does to you, anymore. You’re a good kid. You deserve a normal life.”

“Okay…” Corey said, not sure what to make of the declaration. He liked Ronald well enough, was thankful for the job and the distraction for Momma that Ron provided. But it was certainly news to him that Ronald might think of him as a son.

Ronald, for his part, wasn’t exactly lying. He did hate the way most people treated Corey, and he did feel a familial fondness for the quiet teenage boy who had grown into a fine young man in front of him over the past nine years. He was, however, having a moment. He was about to unveil his master plan to get Corey out of Haddonfield, for good. Ever since his divorce from his first wife, he’d felt small and ineffectual, winding up with a second wife who treated him like shit, largely because it’s what he felt he deserved. Doing this was as much about saving himself as saving Corey.

“I know your mother has access to your bank account,” Ron said, laying out the plan he’d worked so hard to devise. “So I want you to go to a different bank and open a new account there. I’m gonna start paying you twice. We’ll keep your direct deposit where she expects it to be. You use that check the way you always do, buy your snacks, put some in savings, don’t do anything that would make her suspicious. But I’m gonna give you a second check. Put that one in your new account, save the whole thing. We’ll do that for a while, until you have enough money to disappear.”

“Is that legal?” Corey asked.

“Christ, kid. Do you even wanna leave?”

“Yeah, sorry, I uh… I just don’t want any more legal trouble. For any of us.”

Ron deflated, his moment punctured by feelings of sadness for his pathetic step-son, and guilt for not doing more sooner.

“Don’t worry,” he assured Corey. “It’s all above board. I’m giving everybody raises cause the shop’s been doing so well. You’re just gettin’ the biggest one.”

Corey stood there dumbfounded for a moment. Ronald didn’t exactly obey Momma, but he was usually very careful about the ways he defied her. Helping Corey escape would probably end their marriage if she ever found out. While Corey had never understood what Ronald saw in Momma (or what Momma saw in Ron), he struggled to believe Ronald would jeopardize his relationship with her that way.

“You’re really for real?” He whispered.

“I’m really for real. Now, don’t tell me when you’re leaving or where you plan on going. Just buy a bus ticket when you feel like you have enough money and get out of here. And when you go, leave the card for the bank account she watches. We both know if she can see where you are, she might follow you.”

It took Corey three months of getting two paychecks to feel like he was financially ready to leave town, and another month after that for him to be emotionally ready too. But Halloween was coming, and he’d be damned if he spent another Halloween in fucking Haddonfield. So one chilly October morning he convinced Momma to leave for her errands before he left for work, promising he was right behind her, since he knew she hated it when he was home alone. Then he shoved as much of his wardrobe as he could fit into his backpack. He put his phone and the debit card Momma monitored on his dresser, emptied both of his savings accounts, and boarded a Greyhound bus headed west.

Corey looks down at his freckled thighs below the tattered hem of his cut-off shorts, his bare legs decorated with tattoos under wispy red hair. He doesn’t have to wonder how Momma would feel about those. She made it very clear that in her opinion tattoos were only for sailors and convicts (Which had his father been? Corey wondered but never asked). He’d always thought they were cool, always wanted to have as many as he could find space for. He got his first as soon as he could after he got away. It grounds him a little to see them whenever he looks down, a permanent reminder that his life is his, not hers.

A familiar voice brings him out of his thoughts.

“Helloooo. Earth to Corey.” It’s you, standing in front of him with a folded five dollar bill between your fingers and a concerned look on your face. “You good?” You ask him.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says as he puts your money in the cash box. He stamps the back of your hand and waits for you to head inside, but you don’t.

“So, I had to park like, super far away. Would you mind walking me to my car after the show?” It’s not something you would ask just any bouncer at just any bar, but Corey is your favorite bouncer at your favorite bar. You’ve had a little crush on him for ages, dying to get even 10 minutes alone with him. If he won’t make the move, it’s time you did.

“Oh, uh, sure. Of course.”

“You’re the best,” you say, reaching out to squeeze his arm. Then you go through the door and into the bar.

You spend the whole show distracted, thinking more about Corey than about the musicians playing their hearts out on stage. You remember the first night he worked the door. You could tell he was new from a distance, which intrigued you, and as his features came into focus as you drew nearer, you only became more interested. The new guy was a hottie. It had been winter then, so his tattoos were hidden from you, and his hair was a rich, warm brown. The weather warmed and Corey's clothes got less bulky, the hems on the sleeves of his shirts and the legs of his pants steadily rising with the temperatures, giving you a delicious view of his strong limbs. The seasons have progressed, and his hair has gotten longer, full of coppery strands brought out by the sun. It’s like every time you see him he’s better looking than the last. Tonight is no exception.

But his looks aren’t the only thing you like about Corey. When you go outside during changeover on nights he works the door, you shoot the shit with him. You like how his voice exists in the space between raspy and smooth, an accent you can’t quite place peeking through on certain words. You like the way he struggles to tell when you’re joking, but he’s always a good sport about the miscommunication, and how he has his own offbeat sense of humor that you’re slowly learning to watch for. You like his crooked smile, and the way he casually brings up complicated, niche knowledge without ever sounding condescending.

The nights Corey works inside, you feel extra safe knowing he’s watching over you. Sometimes he appears at your side with a plastic cup of water, yelling “Stay hydrated!” in your ear over the music. He checks on you when you fall in the pit, and he enforces the rule against crowd killing with an iron fist, dragging dudes who think it’s cool to windmill out to the sidewalk by their shirt collars. If another showgoer is bothering you, all you have to do is meet Corey’s eyes and you know he’ll take care of the problem.

You didn’t park so far away with the intention of getting him to walk you there, but after circling the block three times and seeing no nearby spots, you had no choice. You weren’t particularly scared to walk the distance, but you’d seen Corey as you drove past, Chicago Bears cap backwards over his gorgeous hair, pack of cigs tucked into the rolled up sleeve of his t-shirt, biceps bulging from the way his arms were crossed, and a lightbulb clicked on in your head. You practically sprinted to the door from your parking spot.

Outside on his stool, Corey’s still in a weird mood. He’s had his eye on you for months, and he’s pretty sure you’re interested in him too. Even so, he’s petrified to make a move. He favors you over the other patrons whenever you’re there, and he knows his coworkers notice, but it’s the only thing he can think to do to get closer to you. And his insecurities around dating just bring him right back to Momma. She fucking did this to him. Her refusal to let him have any normal interactions as a kid meant he still couldn’t as a grown-ass man. It’s like getting away from her only made her more present in his life.

He’s trying to remember what his therapist said about negative thoughts moving through without getting stuck. Thinking them and feeling them and then just letting them drift away. They can come over to hang out, but they can't spend the night. Corey wants to be someone you would let spend the night, and he thinks he could be, if he could just fucking relax for 30 goddamn seconds.

And it isn’t helping that you haven’t come outside once tonight. The reason is that you’re just as anxious as you are excited, thinking of ways to angle the walk to your car into something more, just like he is. But he doesn’t know that. So he sulks on his stool and hopes the thoughts will be done passing through before the last band plays their last song.

When the closing act does finish up, you’re the first person out the door, appearing by his side before the reverb of the final notes even stops echoing.

“Hey,” Corey says, “I usually have to stay for like, 15 minutes after the show ends, then I can walk you to your car.” Add something to let her know you want to hang out, he thinks, but he doesn’t say anything else.

“Okay, no problem,” you say.

You stand off to the side and chat with friends until his shift is over. He takes the cashbox and the stool inside, and then he’s keeping pace with you down a quiet side street towards your car. A light breeze cools the sweat on your neck from dancing and you shiver. Corey comes just a little closer, knowing he runs hot, hoping he can subtly warm you with his radiant heat without you noticing. He’s not slick at all, but it’s endearing. You drift nearer to him too, so close you would barely need to reach out to lace your fingers with his.

“So. Where do you park?” You ask. “I can drive you to your car, since you walked me.”

“Oh, I walk to work. I don’t live far.”

“Oh, okay. I can drive you home, then.” You wait a beat to see if he’ll ask to hang out. You can sense that he wants to, but as you turn the corner and your little sedan comes into view, you decide it’s up to you. “Actually, I’m really hungry. Why don’t we go get something to eat?”

“Yeah?” Corey smiles. “I’m starving.”

You take Corey to a little shack of a New York style pizza place, where you eat giant slices on a rickety bench leaned against the side of the building. A window AC unit drips onto one half of the seat, so you sit with your bodies pressed together.

You and Corey have had a lot of physical contact since you met. He’s stamped the back of your hand a hundred times. He’s hooked his elbows under your armpits to hoist you off the floor, caught you over his brawny shoulder when you run out of crowd to surf, gently cleaned and stuck a bandaid over a scrape from the studs on someone else’s jacket. Somehow your thighs sticking together in the humid air feels much more intimate than any of that.

The proximity makes Corey’s heart pound in his throat. This close to you he can see the fine glitter you dusted over your skin before you left the house, and the little half-open holes dotting your face from piercings you’ve retired. He does his best to hold his voice steady and not think about the conniption Momma would have if she could see him with a painted harlot practically sitting in his lap. The negative thoughts can’t spend the night, he reminds himself. But he still wants to.

“It’s getting late,” he says when you’ve been sitting there talking and holding onto your grease-stained paper plates for what feels like hours. “Are you… Um. Do you need to get up early? Tomorrow?”

“No, I have a free day tomorrow. No plans, no responsibilities. I’ll probably be horizontal all day,” you say, laughing. You phrased it that way on purpose and you can see it working as Corey swallows hard and tries not to get distracted by the mental image of you lounging around in a tank top and panties.

“I’m free tomorrow too, and I’m not tired. We could hang out more, somewhere else?”

“I’d love to. Do you have somewhere in mind? I think most places are probably closing right about now.”

“Oh, uh…” Corey responds lamely.

The obvious answer hangs between you for a moment. You wait, daring him to say it first. You’d been dying to spend 10 minutes alone with Corey, and taking the lead tonight has gotten you that and so much more. You could quit while you’re ahead, adopt an oh well, maybe next time attitude. Or you could finish what you started.

“If you want, we can –”

“What if we –”

You both try at the same time.

“No, you –”

“I’m sorry, you –”

Corey’s embarrassed, but you giggle, a sweet sound that immediately makes him feel better. He laughs with you. You point at yourself, then at him, then at yourself, an exaggerated look of questioning on your face. He laughs at that too, pointing emphatically at you.

“If you want,” you start again, “we can go back to my place?”

You live by yourself in a little studio. You unlock the door and reach inside to turn a lamp on, before swinging it wide and pulling Corey inside. He takes his hat off, his large hand fluffing out the dent in his hair, and looks around for somewhere to set it down. His first impression as his eyes wander is how similar to his own apartment yours is – how you’ve had to work around the eccentricities of the building, how so much of your furniture would be instantly recognizable to anyone who's seen a recent IKEA catalog, how your mattress and box spring rest directly on the ground.

Momma (ugh there she is again) always kept the house spotless, with strict adherence to her ugly-but-well-defined aesthetic, taking meticulous care of the heavy wooden furniture she made Corey’s father buy before Corey was born. While living somewhere that hasn’t been fossilized for 25+ years is a much needed change of pace, he’s often embarrassed by the disheveled way he and his roommates keep things, cringing whenever they bring a friend or partner over for the first time. He was grateful that you suggested your place, but seeing the way your rooms reflect his destroys that insecurity and makes him feel right at home.

You’re still holding his wrist from pulling him inside, and you use it to guide him on a “tour” of your tiny space.

“This is the living room,” you say. Then you drag him one foot to the right. “And over here is the bedroom.” Corey laughs as you rotate him 90 degrees. “Enormous, state of the art chef’s kitchen.” You gesture toward the rickety old range and skinny half-sized dishwasher. You pull him down the hallway and into the bathroom. “And here we have the sauna and spa.”

“Wow, it’s just like a big mansion from a movie,” Corey says.

“They’ve actually filmed like, 100 movies here,” you joke. You reach behind you and turn the water on in the bathtub. “I’m gonna wash off real quick, you know how gross it can be in the pit.”

“Oh, uh, okay.” He turns to leave but you wrap your fingers around his wrist again.

“You don’t have to go. You can sit on the toilet and keep me company. Or you could join me.”

Corey opens and closes his mouth in surprise, shaking his head, floundering. “Join you?”

“If you want.” You shrug, pretending to be nonchalant.

“No. Yeah. I mean. It would be great to join you, I just wasn’t expecting that.”

You pull the pin to switch the water from the faucet to the showerhead. “Do you want to check the temperature?”

You switch places with him and he leans over the edge of the tub to stick his hand in the stream. He considers it for a second. While he’s distracted, you start taking your clothes off. You’re down to just your bralette and panties when he turns back around.

“I think that’s… good,” he says, the end of his sentence strangled by the sight of you in your underwear.

You smile sweetly as you peel the bralette off and raise it over your head. Corey gawks. “Are you gonna shower with your clothes on?” You ask.

“Oh,” Corey says with a nervous chuckle, setting his glasses and his hat on the vanity. He tries (and mostly fails) not to stare at your breasts as he pulls his shirt over his head. He loosens his laces to slip out of his boots, yanks off his socks, and undoes his belt. His face feels hot, which he knows means it’s red. He clears his throat and drops his shorts, then he turns around to give both of you some privacy for the last step.

When his shirt comes off, it takes your breath away. You knew Corey was a thick boy, and kinda heavily tattooed, but you were not at all prepared for the sight that met you as he started to strip. The true breadth of his shoulders, the size of his traps, the soft definition of his abs, and lines of his hips pointing right where you want to be, all accentuated by his tattoos, way more of them than you were expecting. If he could keep his eyes off your tits, he might’ve noticed you were staring at him too.

He steps into the shower with his hands clasped in front of his crotch. His modesty is adorable. On his end he’s not sure which would be worse, shrinkage from the cold air, or chub before anything has even happened. Either way it seems best to keep things obscured and fix his eyes on the drain as you step into the tub and close the curtain.

“You don’t have to hide. I’ve seen a dick before,” you say gently, as if reading his thoughts. “And you don’t have to avert your gaze.”

Corey looks up from the floor of the shower, meeting your eyes. You give him an encouraging smile and he chuckles, dropping his hands. “Okay.”

The temptation to look down immediately and see what he was hiding is strong, but you manage to keep your eyes on his face. You duck out of the shower stream to let him get wet, flipping the top of your body wash and squeezing some out. You gesture with the bottle to Corey and he offers you his hand, palm up. You dispense a little dollop for him.

“You have more tattoos than I thought you would. How long has it taken you to get so covered?”

“Like a year and a half?”

“Holy shit, Speed Racer!” You laugh, and he fucking giggles. He’s so cute you could die. Between your legs, your clit starts to throb.

“I uh, had to wait a long time to start getting tattooed. Kinda thought it would never happen. So I’m going a little crazy, trying to catch up.”

“That’s actually so cool. I’m glad you get to make that happen.” You finally let your eyes drift down, studying his tattoos through the bubbles on his skin, using your hand like a squeegee to get a better look at a few of them, and to have an excuse to touch him. They’re all American Traditional – faithful to the rules, truly old school, Sailor Jerry levels of traditional – but you can pick out the hands of several different artists. They’re all packed extremely solid, the colors vibrant and smooth under his freckled pink skin. You get a decent glimpse of his penis while you check out the tats on his stomach. It makes a very good first impression, although if he’s much of a grower you might be in for a challenge. “They’re beautiful, Corey. You have really good taste.”

He shakes his head, denying the compliment. “It’s all flash from a walk-in shop.”

“But you picked the shop.” You slide your soapy hands back up his torso to squeeze his shoulders. “And you picked the designs off the wall.” You squeeze again. “Curation makes the collection.”

“I guess I’ve never thought of it like that,” he says.

You stand there like that for a minute, your hands on his shoulders, looking into each other's eyes. You’ve never seen him in decent lighting before, and you’re learning that he has the longest eyelashes in the world, and his eyes are the color of good iced tea, but staring at him is only making you thirstier. You drape your wrists over his shoulders and rest your forearms on his chest. He puts his hands on your hips. You slowly drift closer to each other as if pulled by magnets. The last traces of Corey’s rough mood from earlier in the night flow down the drain with the soapy water. All he’s thinking about is you.

You can feel him starting to get hard, the tip of his cock poking you in the thigh, higher and higher until you lean away enough for it to reach its full height. You lean back in closer than you were before, wrapping your arms all the way around his neck. Finally he kisses you.

It’s soft at first, his plush lips feather light against yours. But his boner resting on your belly is making you want him too badly to abide by that for long. You press in harder, and he returns the pressure. You open your mouth more, and he follows your lead. Your tongues slide against each other and he sighs into your mouth. He still tastes just a little like the cigarette he smoked before you left the pizza place. His hands move from your hips, massaging your back and tentatively cupping your ass.

You kiss so long the water starts to get cold. You pull away from him reluctantly, despite your lips already getting chapped, and rinse the few remaining bubbles from your skin. You pull a giant blanket towel from the cabinet and wrap it around both of you. It’s extremely inefficient when it comes to actually drying you off, but you barely care, just using it as an excuse to keep your arms around him.

“That’s dry enough, right?” He asks. He’s so hard it borders on painful. He’s desperate for more, anything more, whatever you’ll give him.

“Yeah, that’s totally dry enough,” you agree, tossing the towel over the curtain rod.

You lead Corey back down the hallway, to the foot of the bed. You crawl up to the head of the bed, wiggling your ass in the air for him as you go. At the head of the bed you lay down and beckon for him. He scrambles to lay down next to you. His lips are so raw that they taste like blood, but he’s insatiable, needing to be kissing you. He pulls you into his arms so that you’re lying on your side, and you drape your top leg over his pelvis. His breathing gets heavier, and he’s dying to rock his hips so that his achy, leaking cock rubs against your impossibly soft thigh, but he doesn’t. He’s not sure if it’s okay, not realizing it’s the whole reason you put your leg where you put it.

If he won’t grind into your thigh, you’ll just have to grind your thigh into him instead. As his length drags across your skin it leaves a hot trail of precum. He shudders beneath you and makes a little strangled sound. It makes your pussy gush. You want to make him whimper, you want to hear him groan and whine and cry.

“Corey,” you purr against his stubbly cheek. “Why are you holding back?”

“I, uh – I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do. Like, what you want me to do.”

“Should I just tell you what to do?”

“Please.”

You kiss him again before giving your first instruction. “Don’t try to be quiet. The walls in this place are really thick, so you don’t have to worry about anybody but me hearing you. But I want to hear everything.”

“Okay,” he whimpers.

You reach your hand down and wrap your fingers around his shaft. He inhales sharply. His satiny skin slides up and down as you gently stroke him. You told him not to be quiet, so he lets out a long moan, surprising himself with how desperate the sound is.

“Does that feel good?” You coo.

“Mhm,” Corey groans.

“Good. Don’t try to be still either, baby. If you want to thrust, thrust.”

And thrust he does, immediately, pressing his hips into your hand hard before dropping them back down to the bed. Your satisfied laugh is music to his ears. He thrusts into your hand again, and again. Faster and faster. You kiss him as you pump his cock in your hand, but he’s too busy whining and panting to kiss you back.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “Stop for a second. Please.”

You release him and bring your hand to your mouth, tasting the mess he made. The sight of you licking his precum off your palm nearly kills him. While he recovers, you pull a condom out of the drawer in your nightstand. You hold it up for him to see, squeezing it so he knows the little air bubble is still inside.

“Can I put this on you?” He nods. He closes his eyes and lets out a long, shaky breath as you roll the condom on. You lay on your back and gesture for him to climb on top of you. “Okay, now come here,” you say.

He kneels between your legs. You hold your arms out to him and he slowly lowers himself into them, planting one wide hand on either side of you. His cock taps against your slit and it makes you both hum.

“I need to feel you inside me,” you whisper.

Corey’s toned arms almost give out. “I need to be inside you,” he agrees in a strained voice.

You guide him to the right spot. With one push he slides all the way in. He’s completely fucking perfect, filling you all the way up. He flexes his hips experimentally, and the smallest little movements cause him to make the prettiest little whines. You feel so good around him, he’s scared he won’t last five seconds if he moves the way he wants to, but the way you’re looking up at him weakens his will, and he gives in.

Once he starts in earnest, he can’t stop, overtaken with a sense of urgency, needing more, more, more. His face and chest turn bright red. His eyes tear up and he squeezes them closed. The way he pounds you feels fucking incredible, but the sight of him and the sound of his whiny moans getting higher and higher pitched is what makes you truly feral.

“Holy shit, Corey.” You reach up and run your fingers through his hair. “You feel so fucking good. You fill me up just right.”

You feel the effects your words have on him, faltering slightly before fucking you even harder.

“Look at me,” you command. He opens his eyes and you see the tears welling there. You’re worried for a second, but before you can ask if he’s okay, he reassures you.

“I’ve… never… felt this good,” he says between gulping breaths. “I’m really… really close.”

“Oh yeah? You’re close?” Your tone is teasing, but sweet.

“So close,” he barely manages to say, the rhythm of his movements becoming less coherent.

“I want you to cum for me.”

“B-but… but…”

“Don’t fight it. Cum for me, Corey.”

You wrap your legs around his hips and that’s his undoing. He whines your name, muscles trembling, spilling into the condom, a single tear breaching his waterline.

"Oh my god," he says, voice hoarse as he lays back down beside you.

"That good, huh?"

"Mmm," he hums happily.

When he realizes you didn't cum, he's adamant about returning the favor. And you'll let him in the morning, coaching him on exactly how to rub your clit to make you scream, before you take him for breakfast at a greasy little diner and drop him off to a chorus of "Ooooh where were you last night?" from his roommates. But for now you just snuggle into his thick, strong arms, content to spend the night with him.

#corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham smut #fan fic #fan fiction #mine #cc

46 notes · View notes

detectivebambam · 8 months ago

Note

so im cheating and I'm doing 2 characters for the ask game

Kevin day and Aaron minyard (my favs, my pookies, my loves)

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

10. Could you be best friends with this character?

11. Would you date this character?

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

13. What's an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot?

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

17. What's a ship for this character you don't hate but it's not your favorite that you're fine with?

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

okay okay

Kevin and Aaron

He reminds me so much of myself, in terms of his relationship with exy. He's also funny asf. I dislike that he tries to pretend he's normal cuz my dude, you're not. But i like that he genuinely wants to be a normal person after all his trauma.

He's like 6'0" and his guard dog is an entire foot shorter than him. His girlfriend lol

The Hunger Games. I haven't read/watched it but from what I've heard it would be funny. Damn probably Supernatural but I would make him a vampire or smth

Stockholm Syndrome with my coach, and way too obsessive about being the best at everything. I fucking love Katelyn Mackenzie

Make him a little bitch. He's a "coward" because he was given to the fucking mafia as a little plaything. Be so real rn. They tend to make him the twin that tries the hardest to reach out and bond but post car crash, he's really not

No for both of them I'd probably strangle them in their sleep

No for both of them, I'd be a Neil type where I'm like goddamn why do you act like that? why don't you kill that guy instead of being upset about it ??

Yes he's probably gifted if yk what I mean. I could, but could he date me, that's the real question

He snores. Chronic nosebleeds and also he gets "straight man sick" as in he gets a tiny cold and he's out for the week

ima do the one i think they'd use a lot bc that's fun

Kevi: 😒 Aaron: 🙄

No fashion sense unless he's in a suit or court gear 😔 Emo lol he's got the spiky bracelets and everything

Kevin x Avery. Avery is my oc who knows absolutely nothing about exy and I think that's what Kevi needs tbh. Aaron x Katelyn of course they're amazing

Fucking,,, each other lol

idk probs Kandreil. no feelings one way or another with that ship. if he's not with Katie, I'm mad so

Kev x Thea. I just think they're a little too different, and in order to heal the way they both need to, they can't do that with each other. Love them as besties though. obvs i love Katie and Aaron 🤭

Jeremy!!!!! first of all, they've definitely fucked, second, Kevi actually smiles with Jer like he seems to really enjoy his company. Matt and I will stand by this. I have no reasoning, just... Matt

Probably Charlie Spring??? in a way?? and I can't really describe why tbh. Aaron is so unique that it's hard to find one, but if I had to choose, probably Matthias Helvar

First impression??? Damn, why is he like that? Oh, that's why he's like that. Damn, I'm kinda like that.

God what a bitch. Oh. Oh okay. Damn what a little bitch. Damn, wtf??

Now??? Babygirl and Little Bitch (with love)

this was so fun ty ty

#ty for the ask <3 #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #nora sakavic #kevin day #aaron minyard #thea muldani #katelyn mackenzie

13 notes · View notes

eletricheart · 2 years ago

Text

Where The Skies Are Blue

(Mira Kano x Reader)

part 1 here (Queen of a Heart)

*image creds to the owner

Word count: 1.047

"So, if you ever need a fool

Who will give you a love so true

You can always find me where the skies are blue"

----------------------------------------------------

The post meteor scenario was concerning. The hospitals were full, many gravely injured or with the unknown threat of developing further conditions.

Which is why you had to stay for two more weeks after waking up in the hospital and having a roommate of sorts.

Tho you worried for the woman next to you, wishing for her to be well.

Day 1

"Hi…the nurses told me that talking to you may help your recovery, so here I am." You weirdly chuckled and continued. "I know you don't know me and it must be pretty weird to be listening to a strange voice but I thought it would be nice to read something for you, so…here goes 'The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo'. It's a good book I promise."

Day 3

"We're done with Evelyn, hope you liked it, it's one of my favorites. And since you can't protest against my choice of literature, today will be 'Me Before You', get ready for a trilogy."

Day 9

"Even I have to admit the other two books were not that good, so it's okay if you want to murder me after my choices. However, for your happiness I should be leaving in a few days, my exams are coming out fine, therapy is well…therapy."

Day 10

"I wanted to read a book to you, but I'm worried that it's too sad, I don't want to make things worse. So we can try 'The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics', it's good too."

Day 12

"I made new friends today, they were in the whole meteor accident too. We hung out in Ann's room, 'cause she is also bedridden, but Kuina and Chishiya can walk around freely. If you ever hear chaos, it's them."

Day 13

"The doctors told me you're okay, at least physically. I hope you wake up."

Day 14

"I asked one of the nurses about you, I couldn't handle my curiosity. They told me you're a psychiatrist, which is really cool by the way. Maybe you can continue your career once you wake up."

Day 15

"Today is my last day and you still haven't graced me with your voice, I'm truly hurt right now, you should wake up to apologize, just saying."

You sighed with defeat once there was no response and left the room to say goodbye to Ann. Kuina and Chishiya left a couple days ago, so we've already been through that. It's not a forever bye, we still see each other, just no more food heist.

When you returned to the room in order to finish packing up, the woman was awake. You were shocked but stayed on the door to not intrude during the exams.

When the medical team left you still stood awkwardly on the door. The woman just raised her eyebrows in a silent mockery and waited for you to enter the room.

You quickly introduced yourself to her, not mentioning the past couple weeks as to not scare her, and explained why you were cleaning up your side. She didn't say anything for a while.

"So you're leaving?"

To say you jumped in place was an understatement, but recomposed yourself. "Yeah, I've served my time here." You said, attempting a joke.

But she just looked slightly annoyed.

"The nurses mentioned you were reading for me, I don't remember that."

"Oh, it's okay, it was probably bad anyways, I just didn't want you to be alone."

You smiled and sat back on the bed.

"Read for me tonight."

Therefore, you started showing up everyday to see her, mostly to read a book but sometimes you brought flowers or tea. It became a habit to visit her, one you always looked forward to.

Day 20

Today you brought her a chess game. After reading "A Monster Calls" you both thought it was best to take a break. This was how you found out that she was extremely competitive. Even going as far to accusing you of cheating during times she won the game.

Day 21

Chess was more stressful than you expected, so you decided for a movie day. You introduced her to the classical "The Mummy" and she pretended to hate it.

Day 22

You had a fight, to be more exact Mira fought you. She hated tardiness and you were an hour late, of course there was a reason but the woman was too angry to care, simply leaving you out of her room.

Mira was nervous. Ever since she woke up you had been a constant, always trying to improve the days.

Being stuck to a bed was infuriating, having to attend therapy was more pointless. Mira knew what was going on, she studied and saw it countless times, no reason for all of these sessions with a stranger.

But you were there.

She tried to find a reason for your presence, some ulterior motive, maybe a disorder. There was nothing.

Three days weren't a long time, so why did she feel this way, this weird sense of familiarity.

When you were late Mira thought you had left. So when you showed she felt immense relief.

That's why she kicked you out, she got scared of what these feelings might mean. Finding it better to end before getting too attached.

Day 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

You kept visiting her, telling stories from the door, humming or just sitting there. She didn't let you in during those days.

Ann kept telling you to give up but something begged you to try again, so you did.

Day 29

You started talking through letters under the door. She would ask questions about you and you would respond honestly with also small drawings.

Day 30

Mira let you in. It was her last day in the hospital. You helped her organize the room and move back to her apartment in the capital. Making quick stops at diners for milkshakes.

Day 31

It was the first official date.

You took her to play croquet, she never looked happier…and she won every single time.

Day 60

Your visa to stay in Japan was ending since you didn't have a medical condition anymore.

Mira took you to the park for a picnic.

Day 70

Mira asked you to stay.

Day 71

You stayed.

----------------------------------------------------

masterlist

#Spotify #aib mira #mira kano x reader #mira kano #alice in borderland #aib #angst with a happy ending #non canon #fanfic #queen of hearts

58 notes · View notes

childofthevault · 10 months ago

Note

Sir Hammerlock + all the numbers. Sorry

oh my god

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

I like him, hes not one of my top favorite Borderlands characters but he's fun and honestly I think one of the better written characters

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

that hes openly gay and hes old, you don't really get a lot of elder gay rep and it's cool to see

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

this is a personal thing but I don't like his british explorer thing somethings, especially when he starts calling people savages its incredibly minor but it bothers me a bit

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

okay so I've mentioned this with friends but, I want him to have a comic mini-series and sure I say this with Borderlands a lot but I think Hammerlock having a one-off mini series comic about him doing something would be cool

I think gbx and dark horse should invest in mini-series or one shots for the bl side characters like Hammerlock

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

I had to think on this since he isn't a character I listen to playlists for or make them for but after listening to my spotify for a bit Twin Soul- Rico Del Oro

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

complicated relationships with their family ig?

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

How everyone depicts his relationship with Wainwright, I am so happy that people don't ignore them being together and that they're both gay men its nice to see people love him so much and love the relationship he has

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

PEOPLE NOT REALIZING HE'S BLACK OH MY GOD ITS SO WERID HE IS SO VISIBLY NOT WHITE

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

yes :)

10. Could you be best friends with this character?

yes :D

11. Would you date this character?

no, im a lesbian and he is a gay man who is more than twice my age

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

he is the type of old guy to use emojis wrong, ie use 😂 for crying in a sad context

13. What's an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot?

🐾he adds it if he's tracking something

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

Dark Academia

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

HIM AND WAINWRIGHT THOSE TWO ARE MY GAY DADS

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

Hammerlock x women ig?

17. What's a ship for this character you don't hate but it's not your favorite that you're fine with?

I don't think I have one? I think I saw him shipped with Zane a few times but eh

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

him and wainwright have such a healthy relationship, and it's so well written like you get they're in love and why they love each other from the breif time they have togehter, I do like how in the dlc handled their relationship and how both of them felt like maybe they might not work out but realizing these anxieties are wrong we're great together

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

I wish his relationship with Aurelia got more time to devlope, in the pre-sequel Aurelia has death lines where she calls for him and says "I'm sorry Alistor." this leans more towards Aurelia but I wish they got a chance to really mend their relationship in bl3 but Aurelia was...written like that in bl3 which sucks

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

Clay and or Zane

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

I do not write fics

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

I do not read a lot of fics :(

23. Favorite picture of this character?

he's happy :)

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

none come to mind but probably will after I post this haha

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

first impression: ah he's cool

current: thats my dad, he adopted me, I love you gay dad

5 notes · View notes

murfpersonalblog · 1 year ago

Text

^^^THIS.

Back in 2020 I summed up my thoughts about the IWTV movie:

I CANNOT stand it when some people--(often Loumand shippers, deluded Lestat x Jesse shippers back in the QotD days (those were dark times!), and most recently this out of pocket wave of Lestat x Rowan Mayfair shippers get thee from me Satan)--try to make it seem that Lestat and Louis were never in a relationship, or they're not endgame, or they hate each other, or they were just straight platonic frenemy roommates, like wtf???? The film shows you clear as day that they were raising Claudia as a couple, but because it's the 1990s with Tom & Brad (rolls eyes, vomits), ofc it's all subtext. I can't.

My biggest issue has always been with the IWTV book. I HATED it. I still do. In fact, I hate the book more NOW than I did back then. XD IMO it's one of AR's worst books, and Louis is one of her least interesting characters. So all of this, on top of the racist & vaguely pedophilic undertones in both the book & film have made me cling to the tv show like a life raft, a breath of fresh air, an oasis in the desert, wind beneath my wi--okay okay, lol. XD

And as for Queen of the Damned, FACTS! For different reasons, it was iconic too! To date the QotD movie is the ONLY rockstar!Lestat on film---and violinist!Lestat--and he was good y'all! 😭 People need to start putting respect on QotD's name (not too much though, it's still only like a 7.5/10 at best LOL). They were in their The Crow bag, and the soundtrack--I NEED to see SamStat remix Forsaken before I die I'm WAITING--and the whole nu metal vibe & aesthetic was just *chef's kiss.* 🖤

youtube

And really, the worst part about Lestat in QotD was his hair color, I've said it over & over--same with Marius, like who tf are these people???

They gave Lestat the slightest blonde tips, but ugh. Otherwise Stuart Townsend served, leave me alone.

Ofc Aaliyah's Akasha was PERFECTION and Maharet was excellent. (It's just such a shame they left out the goat Mekare.) Sadly, this movie was made strictly for the straights (Louis who?) and even when I saw it in theatres I was BIG MAD for Louis' sake, as the QotD film/fandom completely soured me on Jesse; I'd take Nicki 1000 times over her.

So yeah, as a person who grew up on both the books & films, I don't like seeing new fans bash the OGs for the wrong reasons, even though I agree that AMC's version is the best & my favorite adaptation thus far. Just take them for what they are, as their own independent entities at the times they were made, from the 70s (book) to 90s (film) to Y2K (QotD). Just because the 2022-present tv show is doing the absolute most doesn't negate the fact that the older versions walked so AMC's IWTV could run in the vampire Olympics.

I dunno, but having grown up in the 90s/00s with the ‘94 film.. it is admittedly very frustrating seeing new fans constantly trash talking something that was so foundational for queer people my age.

Like, no, it’s obviously not as gay as iwtv22, but it is still very very extremely very queer coded. And that coding is all we had for a long time. Like Lestat’s first, levitating bite with Louis? Lestat and the Fop? Louis’s heavy-breathing farewell to Armand? Louis and Lestat’s reunion? These moments meant so much to me growing up, before I ever even knew there were books. And then later reading those explicitly queer moments as I grew older?? It only further cemented the importance of the coded sexuality and how it allowed me to love this very queer thing without having to unpack its queerness with my family.

I just think there’s a lack of consideration for the era where queerness in media was something that had to be kept secret, and using that against the film as some sort of “gotcha” isn’t the move you think it is.

And, yes, Tom and Brad suck as people. We don’t have to debate that, I agree wholeheartedly. But this constant dumping on older fans for.. cherishing an old thing that meant a lot to them for extremely specific reasons? That really sucks.

(the gatekeepy older fans can rot though)

Like let’s be 100% real here: every adaptation of these books is deeply flawed because the books themselves are deeply flawed. Not just structurally, they have serious problems regarding race, sexuality, women, children… Anne did not create a perfect foundation to work with, and she herself was an extremely flawed and often problematic person. And no matter how much you want to imagine that the tv show is divorced from all that.. it never will be. And that’s not your responsibility or mine to contend with any of it. It is a piece of media. It has no bearing on you as an individual.

I guess what I’m saying is that this series is nearing its 50th (!!!) birthday, and we as fans are very fortunate to have not only this incredible television series, but two iconic films (yes, QotD is iconic but in like.. an ironic, highly camp way), a musical of.. dubious but magical quality, and not one or two, but SIX stunning comic adaptations.. I just think it’s time to stop pitting the show against the movie when it’s all part of this massive, deeply flawed yet incredibly beautiful, wonderfully queer body of work.

#interview with the vampire #the vampire chronicles #the vampire lestat #music videos #anne rice ftw

216 notes · View notes

nctsworld · 4 years ago

Text

two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone off to one side.

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.”

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly.

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

7K notes · View notes