#maybe it's time to set my wallpaper back to that
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i've been alternating between three brainrots what the fuck is this
#currently in the tr brainrot#specifically bonten for no reason#i remember i had bonten as my phone wallpaper for the longest time#maybe it's time to set my wallpaper back to that#loops that bonten playlist i made a while back#angryborzois rambles
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Bad Cop - Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: You wake to a call from your boyfriend Eddie who asks you to bail him out of jail.
Word Count: 2.2k
TW: interactions with police, mild injury, talk of fighting and bullying, sexual innuendos
A/N: I might be a little late to the Eddie Munson party but I’m here now! :D
“This is a collect call from Edward Munson at Hawkins Police Station. Will you accept the charges?”
You clear your throat but your voice still feels raw when you speak, “Yes.”
“Please hold,” the operator says.
A trilling sound as you wait, twirling the phone cord anxiously. You’d been tucked in bed a minute ago, dead to the world. The phone rang loud enough from the kitchen to startle you awake. You caught the time on the alarm clock on the nightstand as you kicked the blankets off, just after one in the morning.
“Y/N?” His voice is soft under the crackle.
“Edward.” It’s not angry per se but you never use his real name which is telling.
“Please don’t be mad.”
“Are you okay?” you sigh, tipping your head till your forehead meets the wallpaper.
“I’m sorry— I’m fine. I just, can you bail me out please.”
“What happened, Eds?”
“Just a stupid fight. Nothing serious, I promise.” He pleads like you won’t believe him and doesn’t give you a chance to press for details, “There’s cash in a shoebox on the top shelf of the closet. On my side, all the way in the back.”
You want to scold him but you're still kneading sleep from your face, irritated now that you know he’s okay. You bite your cheek, considering the possibility of an argument. Knowing that it shouldn’t take place through a phone.
“You’re sure? It’s enough?”
“Swear.”
“Okay, on my way.”
He apologizes again before the line clicks.
You shuffle through the band tees he’s grown out of and have since been neglected to the back of your shared closet. You make a mental note to remind him to drop some off at Goodwill. Under a stack of vinyls, you locate the box with a rolled wad of twenties held together by a rubber band. You snap the band, biting your lip. It’s enough to buy something expensive, really expensive. You jam your heel into a laced sneaker and do not bother to change out of your pajamas. The money is pushed deep into your pocket along with the house keys. You shake away arising questions as you start the van.
Cold air smacks your bare arms as you push open the station door. You blink rapidly at the fluorescents. An officer hands you a clipboard, you sign two dotted lines, and fork over most of the cash. He retreats to a separate room without a word, presumably to retrieve your boyfriend, leaving you alone in the lobby.
Your arms pillow your head on the counter until a familiar set of steps rounds the corner. His eyes, big and sorry, find yours instantly. But your attention quickly shifts to the marbled purple and blue highlighting the arch of his cheek. The stern speech about bar fights and bail payments you’d rehearsed on the way flees your throat. He brushes past the counter to hug you and you spot a split lip too. Your shoulders deflate as you meet him halfway.
“Thank you,” Eddie mumbles into your crown.
You give his waist a quick squeeze before pulling back. His hands chase the goosebumps from your skin as you scan his face. His curls are frizzy which is typical but more disheveled like he’s been running his hands through them. Your nail traces his lower lip where it was clearly cracked open but is now glazed over with a layer of dry blood. “Lose any teeth?”
He smiles, pearls still intact, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad. His breath smells faintly of alcohol as he says, “You look tired.”
“I am so tired,” you admit.
He grits his teeth guiltily, “I’ll make it up to you.”
An officer clears his throat and passes Eddie a brown paper bag with ‘Munson’ scribbled on the front. He snatches the bag with a wink. The man offers nothing but a blank stare, maybe mild disapproval as Eddie pivots and jogs toward you, already at the door. He fishes for his lighter from the bag, kissing and pocketing it as you step outside.
“Can I drive?” Eddie reaches for the keys in your hand. You always let him drive.
You snatch the carabiner to your chest, elbowing his side, “Are you trying to get a DUI too?”
“I had one beer,” he scoffs as you unlock the door.
You believe him but pretend not to as you hop in the driver's seat. “You’re a criminal now. Can’t be trusted!” You yell playfully before slamming the door as he jogs around the hood.
“Very funny,” he mutters as he climbs in.
You sling your arm over his seat to back out. The streetlight accentuates the bruise when you glance past him.
“Does it hurt?”
“Hmm?”
You point at your own cheek.
“Oh, no. It’s fine. Should’ve seen the other guy,” he chuckles.
“We’ll ice it when we get home,” you pull out onto the main road before settling your gaze back on him. “So who was the other guy?”
His eyes roll in your peripherals, “So Shelly Watkins was there—“
“You hit Shelly Watkins?”
“Jesus! No! Her stupid boyfriend Rob Perry.” He groans in disgust. “You remember him? He was such a dick in high school!”
You shake your head, trying to recall.
“He’s a couple of years older I think. Well anyway, Shelly was blabbing her big mouth, as usual, about Robin and her new girlfriend.”
“What was she saying?” You interrupt, curious but inferring already.
“Nasty shit. And she’s talking so loud the whole bar can probably hear. I mean, I couldn’t not say anything, babe. And hey,” he throws his hands up in surrender, “All I said was ‘Seems like what other people do in their spare time isn’t your business.’”
You smirk, knowing it was not as polite as he made it out to be.
“And Rob is all ‘What did you say?’” Eddie teasingly lowers his voice, foot hiked up in his seat to face you with a finger curled under his nose like a mustache.
You steal glances from the road to watch the theatrics as he retells the story, making sure to emphasize when he punched Rob square in the nose so hard it broke.
“Did you win?” You ask, attempting to hide your proud grin by checking your blind spot.
“Oh yeah.” Eddie crosses his arms, accidentally nicking the wound on his lip with his nail as he retracts the faux finger stache. He winces, tapping the cut to assess the damage. Fresh blood coats his finger; he’s quick to press his whole hand over his mouth as he fumbles through the glovebox with the other. A deck of fast food napkins you’d organized spills out. You catch one before it falls, crumpling it into his free hand and swerving back into your lane. He replaces his hand with the thin sheet, wiping his fingers on another napkin off the floor as you pull up to a stoplight.
He tips his head like a puppy when he catches you staring. You lick your thumb, smearing a stray drop crawling down his chin. Your palm lingers on his skin, rubbing circles behind his ear as the light flicks green.
It’s not long before you pull into the driveway and unlock the front door. Eddie holds a third napkin to his face. You consider going to the ER for stitches as you toss the keys on the counter and snatch a Ziploc bag from the cabinet.
Two lines of light form a skewed L in the hall from the cracked bathroom door; A silent message that you are allowed to come in. It squeaks familiarly loud on its hinges but Eddie doesn't acknowledge you.
He focuses on his reflection as he peels the napkin away hesitantly. The blood has stopped but his lip looks swollen and angry. You hook a finger through his belt loop, tugging him until he turns. You nudge the bag of ice to his cheek and he flinches grasping your hand to pull it away.
“‘s cold.”
You tug the hand towel off the sink and wrap the plastic, pushing it back to his cheek. You hold it there caressing his lash line with your pointer. He leans into the touch, rubbing his eyes with ringed fingers. Eddie pulls the thick silver off one by one, setting them on the counter.
“Sit,” you tell him.
He perches on the edge of the toilet lid obediently. You pick a washcloth from the drawer and run it under the sink. He parts his knees as you approach him, hands snapping into place at your hips. You cup his chin, pushing up until he tilts it toward you. Cool water cleans his lips where you brush. He doesn’t flinch, even when you accidentally dig too hard. You progress down to his jaw, where blood is smeared dry, and flaky.
“Think I’ll have a cool scar?” His breath fans your chin as you work cautiously.
“No,” you say. He toys with the strings on your pants, happy to be taken care of. “But you don’t need it. You’re cool already.”
The corners of his mouth lift fondly. He fights the urge to smile, hoping you’ll work longer if he sits still. You swipe in slow strokes, also secretly loving the time and touch.
You give his face a once over before tossing the rag to the counter. He searches your expression for a diagnosis. But words are slow to find your mouth, too enraptured with the long lashes that bat his cheeks sweetly. “I love how eager you are to stick up for the people you love,” you start.
“But?”
“But, we can’t afford you getting arrested over something like this.”
“I know,” he groans and headbutts you gently in the stomach. His hands cup the backs of your thighs and his hair drapes around his face like a curtain. You comb a handful of it over his neck and he tilts his head so you can see his eyes. “I don’t regret what I did, though. He’s always been such a bully. He deserved it, you know?” He sighs, gaze drifting away, “I felt like I could finally stand up to him after all these years.”
Your fingers trail down his shoulder to smooth out the tee riding up his back. “I don’t doubt that he deserved it. I know you just want to do the right thing. But still, he can probably afford it, we can’t.” You hesitate to ask, “Where did you get that money anyway?”
He hugs your middle, muttering into your belly, “Been saving.”
“For what?”
He shrugs and says what you believe to be, “Something special.” You are curious but lean on your trust rather than insecurity. He most likely intended to surprise you with something if you didn’t know.
“Sorry, you had to spend it.”
“Not your fault.” He peers up at you as if to ensure you know that and you brush his bangs back.
“Still, sorry.”
He blinks slowly up at you like a cat waiting for more pets. Then, he shoots up, back stiff, eyes wide. “You have work tomorrow,” he realizes out loud.
“Oh, you didn’t hear?” you pull his arm until he stands. “I actually have come down with a real nasty cold,” you force a cough into your fist.
“Oh yeah?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah, not only that but there's this criminal that won’t leave me alone. Think I might have to file a report at the station tomorrow.”
He laughs, flicking the light off as he follows you to the bedroom. The ice pack is left to melt in the sink and the stained washcloth to dry on the counter, a mess for tomorrow you’ve decided. You’re quick to crawl under the covers and he’s even quicker to shed his clothes and join you.
Eddie pecks the sliver of collarbone poking out of your shirt, making his way up in a dotted line. He presses gently to your lips, and you break away mindfully, aiming for the corner instead.
“You know?” Your eyes are closed but you feel his stare.
You hum.
“I think it’s kinda sexy when you call me a criminal.”
“Oh my God!” You throw an arm over your burning cheeks, “You are so horny.”
He laughs into your wrist but moves it aside to cradle your cheeks firmly. He pulls one eyelid open gently with his thumb when you refuse to engage. You release the smile you’ve been keeping. He mirrors it, teeth bright in the moonlight spilling in. “Think about it, I already have handcuffs so you can play bad cop and—“
You grope for a pillow to push into his face and then another when he chucks it off the bed, giggles overlapping.
“I’m going to call the police on you, have them arrest you again. Take you to horny jail.”
“Now you get it,” he releases his grip on your wrists to sit back on his heels and in a voice that is not his own he fawns, “Oh, officer! I promise to be a good boy from now on!”
You roll over, groaning wildly into your pillow. “Go to bed!”
He settles behind you, his heart races where it's thumping against your back. Yours isn’t far off. A final kiss is planted on your nape where he tickles you with his hair as he wishes you a good night.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things fic#joeseph quinn#joseph quinn x reader#stranger things
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Silent Desires
BLACKPINK Rosé x Male Reader 13.6k words
It took quite a long time before I managed to finish this. Kinda struggled with the smut part since I'm not really used on writing one and it was my first time. Of course, still learning.
Was also kinda lazy to proofread it since I have no much time left to do it. PC monitor is broken as well.
The house perfectly matched what you imagined back in Indonesia: two stories painted in blue, and visible wood planks on walls. That one alone window on the second floor must be your bedroom. It had curtains so you thought it might be. Black water filled the canals below and it stretched up to four blocks from your right. It wasn’t smelly, but sure was dirty.
The driver helped carry boxes containing your stuff from home, some were heavy and not, and those light ones were under your carry. When you asked him to place it at the front door, he refused and insisted on placing it inside the living room instead. He was taller than you, a visible look of a state man on his face. Usually they’d wear red caps during work like what TV shows would portray.
Amid work, you saw the neighbor on your right took out a black garbage plastic that was twice the size of her width, and she struggled to carry it inside the garbage can. She was slender, had her hair dyed whitish purple, and a hint of Asian in her eyes. She wore a white top with thin black sleeves covering her arms, and denim shorts that exposed her pretty legs. They were mesmerizing. But you didn’t want to look like a creep either. Seeing her glance at you, you waved your hands. Hoping for atleast a smile or a wave back, you didn’t get one. She chose to ignore your greeting as she headed back to her house. Maybe she was blind or her eyes were blurred, so you didn’t take that bad too much. But the feeling of rejection still hits you like a train.
When all boxes were brought inside, the driver returned to his van and waved goodbye before pulling off. Took hours before every item from each box was pulled out, fixed in places and corners. Most furniture was made in tarnished wood. They were elegant.
The sun had started to set, you could see it by the orange clouds and vibrant violet skies outside your window. It was your first sunset in Canada and you loved the scenery. They seemed like perfect wallpapers you'd see on the Internet.
You stepped outside for fresh air and saw the girl at the right house once again. She sat on the doorway stairs, shading below the black roof. She must’ve not seen your greeting awhile ago, it must’ve been an unintentional ignore. You were shy, everyone would do, but in fear of being a loner you chose to overcome it.
A grass field separates your houses, but only a few steps, like thirty or thirty five steps from yours. She kept her composure and watched your presence coming to her property, a toothpick in her mouth. Her eyes behind those specs remained unwelcoming and a lingering bitchiness within.
“Hey there um. . . I’m your new neighbor by the way on your left so I guess it wouldn’t be bad if I introduce myself to you aye?” You began, keeping your tone calm and friendly. Behind you were nervous and shy.
She played with the toothpick with her tongue, moving it from the left to right corner of her mouth. Her eyes gazed into yours and there was silence for seconds. When you tried to talk again, she interrupted you.
“Too bad for you I don’t talk to strangers” She answered with an Australian accent, so she must be an Aussie.
“I mean like at least-“
“I don’t . . . Talk to strangers.” She stood up. She was slightly smaller than you, but she had the height. Walking slowly towards you, you began to step back. “Do I have to repeat it again to you Mister? I don’t have time for these corny things. If you’re a new bird here, keep it that way as long as you don’t bother me.”
“Alright chill” You raised both palms. “I’m sorry for disturbing you Ma’am.”
You began to walk away while she kept her eyes at you, standing firmly, watching you disappear on her property. You must’ve been so lucky to stumble upon a kind of person on your first day. They said Canadians are welcoming and appreciative, but it seemed it was all a scam.
It was a slight struggle to forget that interaction, but soon you’ve moved on. Days continued with cleaning and adjusting to the new surroundings. The town near the village had good amenities and stores to buy goods from, and you realized the currency seemed low, then you also remembered it’s pricey when converted into your currency.
Each day you’d walk past her house, you can’t resist looking for her presence. She was pretty, everyone would agree, some might not, but in your eyes she was, though her attitude said otherwise.
Days continued with no interaction with the neighborhood. A day later it was time for the first day of class. You jumbled through your closet, finding your best outfit. You wore a simple black oversized T-shirt and cargo pants, like your usual outfit when going out on malls with your parents. But it was a weird feeling to wear civilian clothes on normal days of school. In your country they’d require you to wear a uniform in some cases.
The university looked like an old British house. The walls were made in bricks, and pillars were carved in vertical strips, colored in white gloss paint, that held up much of the entrance shade. Students walk past you. They were tall; it was expected.
The first subject was Science, and it took minutes before you could’ve reached your classroom. You had to ask some professors for the room direction, told you to walk 2 floors above, then turn right, saying you’d see a cone bush at the front of the door; which was on the corner near it. As you entered the classroom, you sat on the seat near the window, third row from the blackboard. Shelves stood at the back most of the classroom. Frames of old looking people hanging on the side walls with their names below of their faces. ‘Jonathan’ if you had read some of their names correctly.
It all started with introductions and knowing each other. Some were old students so they had formed a bond already. Learning you were from Asia, they seemed surprised. When you returned to your seat, someone had already sat beside you. His name was James when you asked. He was friendly, his vibe was cool enough to make you feel comfortable to talk.
During break, he had opened up most of the happenings around the school, and some students you need to avoid stumbling into. Sounded like a cliche school scenario, but it’s the states. Three women walked over the corridor, catching most of the students eyes around the area, even the both of you.
“Who are those? They look Asian.”
“Like you, yes” James continued. “That’s Lisa, Jisoo, and Jennie. One of the popular girls around the campus, obviously. All of them were sophomores.”
“So they are Asian?”
“I just said it a second ago.” He glanced at you. “There used to be four, until that issue happened. She goddamn disappeared like a rat from a cat.”
“You know what happened?”
“I don’t know man, I ain’t touching other’s shit. But I’ll tell you, she’s hella pretty. That Australian ‘yaur’ and ‘wotah’ would make you impressed if you’ve only reached that time when she was here.”
Once they disappeared on your sights, you both continued your way back to the classroom.
You thought everything seemed to flow smoothly, until you met this group of boys who had entered the classroom late. They didn’t approach nor face you, but the way they gave you those eyes was enough for you to understand; not friendly. You didn’t mind and pretended they didn’t exist. Few hours had passed, Monday class had come to an end, and you and your friend had separate ways at the intersection near the school.
On you walk home, you saw the neighbor girl once again. The sun had set down, but it was not hard to familiarize her face on the dim. She sat on the same spot, a toothpick in her mouth, and wore her thin framed specs. You wanted to ignore her presence but she’s just too attractive to resist, and when she caught your eyes, trying to land a quick glance at her, you just bowed.
As usual, you received nothing but eyes and silence.
Back in your house you finished the first assignments of the day, it was History and Science, so it took much time despite its simple instructions. You heard voices outside your window. You were confused. The moon had shone brightly between dark clouds, and it’s eleven in the night. You peeked over your window and saw a SUV parked in front of your neighbor’s house, its headlights lit. Three women stood and one of them rushed your cold neighbor into a hug. They wore fancy clothes, like in a club or party.
You watched closely and realized they were the same girls you’ve seen back in the corridor. And when they all stepped inside, you finally pulled away. You remembered what James said, the girl who had left their circle and decided to not go to school anymore, and maybe she was that woman who chose to rot in her house instead. Maybe yes, maybe not. Questions lingered in your mind as you packed up your things for tomorrow, then later you found yourself sleeping in your bed.
Tomorrow was the same usual day, but things went sideways when the arrogant looking boy group came to approach you while you scrolled through your phone on your seat.
“Hey man, heard you’re the new rice eater around the campus again huh?” He grinned, his tone sarcastic. “So, how tho?”
“What how?”
“I mean . . . How you get into this school? I don’t remember that it’s easy for people like you to attend here.”
“Ah? By having a brain, I guess?”
He chuckles and looks back at his friends; who were grinning along with him. You reminded yourself to stay low and humble. You wanted to be known on campus, like a popular one, just like how you were known as the “Friendly guy” in your old school. And once you made a big mistake with these morons, it'd put you into a crumpled outcast inside the university.
“Alright, they like your answer rice boy, but I don’t. ” He scoffs, giving light nods. “Here, if you’re trying to act cool and shit here, it won’t work. So don’t start something that people would hate you for. I’m just reminding you boss, not threatening you. As long as you play with the system around here, you’re fine, aye?”
You nodded slowly, though deep inside you’re annoyed; you hated getting into a situation like this. You felt like getting controlled or so what, and for the sake of your positive look from the other people you just agreed to his terms.
James accompanied you most of the school hours. The Math professor was absent today, so you found yourselves sitting on the bench outside, in the park.
“So you met Deandre?” He opened up
“Yeah, he’s the bully in the classroom right?”
“Sort of. Like man, that dude came from a wealthy family so of course his attitude would be obviously like that. You remembered what you saw yesterday?”
“The girls?”
“Yeah those fine ladies, he dated one of them. I don’t remember who, but he did. So yeah, he became more known to the campus until his ego just went” He mimicked a plane with his hand and raised it upwards, making a swooshing sound.
“Well about the girls, you told me that the woman who left was ‘Aussie’ right?” You remembered last night’s event. Jisoo, Jennie and Lisa, they were three, but still unsure. They had given the vibe.
“I guess? She had the accent, so yes. Why?”
“Well I have this neighbor who speaks with that accent as well. She looks cute, and tall. You know these cute girls with specs.”
James scoff, shaking his head. “Nah man, I doubt it’d be Rose. She had left Canada already and maybe returned to her hometown.”
“Yeah, maybe I’m just assuming too much.”
So days continued like this. James has been by your side most of the time, and you met some new friends along the classroom. Clifton, Julia, and Tyrone, that’s where their names are. They were old students who began here three years ago. They had formed bonds already, knowing each other before you could have, but you didn’t mind. Every new bird starts with this.
Yet there were the morons who never stopped bothering you. During breaks, when you’re alone, they’d come and ask for some extra lunch or snack. It’s not a sort of bullying way where they’d punch you suddenly, but more like they’d threaten you when you don’t contribute; telling you they’d frame you up for stealing someone’s snack from their bag. James couldn’t do anything as well, as much as he wanted to help, he knew what this group of dick heads could do if you’d go against them.
Remembering their words, just go with the flow. You’re not some sort of a main character where punching them would turn you into a superstar
As usual, there were no changes with your interactions with the cute neighbor. Every time you’d walk past her house, sometimes you’d see her outside on the usual spot she’d sit in. Exchanging glances on each other, you were used to it, and every day that passed by, having the same usual empty interaction, you began to feel tired of chasing your wanted friendship until you start ignoring her.
One night you walked home late. You stayed in the library for a long time without realizing it. You also didn’t want to skip a gym session, so you worked out around seven in the night, then finished by nine already
You saw her at the front of her property talking to two guys, one stood behind her. They had bandanas around their forehead. They wore baggy denim shorts and some sleeves that had pockets on the chest part, where one pulled a cigarette box out from it. You walked slowly to watch the scenario, it’s strange to see her talk to someone else anyways.
The guy behind grabbed her arm forcefully and she tried to resist but was not deemed enough to match a moron’s strength. The man on the front lit the cigarette in his mouth, a hint of glow in the stick, and right as he came closer he blew smoke at her face. You kept your composure and thought she must owe them something, but then the discomfort in her eyes, pleading for help, left you no choice but to save her.
“Yo leave the girl alone.” You said as you approached, your tone calm. A hint of frustration when they looked at you in unison, despite your neighbor’s arrogant attitude, you felt the sense of needing help in her eyes.
“Who are you, punk?” The white man with the cigarette answered as he faced you, taking another in his cigarette. “Never seen your face around here yet?”
“You don’t need to know who I Am bro, just leave her alone.”
“And what will happen if I don’t?” He slowly clenched his fist, you noticed it. And as he slowly took a step forward, you reached out to your pocket and pulled out the butterfly knife you loved playing with. Their courageous eyes turned hesitant when they noticed, and as you spun and free styled the blade he took a step backwards.
You took a step forward, and they flinched when you feinted them. Just a bunch of dick-heads they were, acting strong but lacking action.
“You’re lucky, woman” The guy who held her arm said as they left the both of you, running across the empty street.
You watched them disappear from the darkness. Your neighbor slowly looked at you. Hoping for some kind thanks or appreciation for saving her life, well you didn’t get it, again.
“I can handle myself, why do you have to butt in.” She hissed and walked back to her house.
“What’s your problem?” You raised your voice. “Thanking is the least thing you can do, why do you have to be this shit ass?”
She ignored your words, shut the door closed, and the lights from her door disappeared. Guess helping her was not the right move to earn her trust. Since the start she was this toxic, she never changed, and to think she’s just alone in this house without anyone visiting her but her friends completely gives the reason. You’re tired of chasing her. She’s not worth it anyways. It’s better to be independent than to chase some person who doesn't give a single shit at you.
In your bedroom, you were about to sleep. Move your circular pillow and unroll the blanket wide. You were still bothered by the past hour scenario and worried they might come back, so you took a quick peek at her house from your curtains. It’s just that you’re worried about some bad things that may happen during the night and who else could know what those assholes have been running in their minds right now.
When you saw the lights from her bedroom shut, you finally laid back and slept the night away.
The next day at the school, a seminar was held at the gymnasium where most students were required to be at the place. Chattering and noises filled the whole gymnasium. You and your new group of friends sat together at the upper box, third row, enough to see the announcer deliver his words from the court floor.
You saw the three ladies once again sitting in the same row as yours. The morons were there as well, staying by their side, one guy carried the short hair’s bag. Were they some sort of servants? No they were not when you saw the guy who threatened you rest his arm around the cat shaped eye girl’s seat. She was fine with it, smiling at him despite the corniest move a guy would do.
Then you met them later again in the corridor as you stepped out from the male’s comfort room. The girls were with them, stood by their side and one behind. Your eyes met Deandre’s, it was full of wickedness, and a smirk forming in his lips.
“Yo rice boy, what’s good? Can help me out for some slight extra money? You know it would be bad if I’m left hungry for the day.” He began. “Just a little you know? I mean not that I have no money, but at least . . . An extra?”
“Sorry bro, I can’t help you with that.” You forced a smile and began to walk out. Then he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, making you stop.
“Come on bro” He softened his voice that only you could hear. “Remember what I said back then? I bet you wouldn’t like the consequences when you don’t provide something, right?”
And there you are, stupid enough to give half of your brought money in your wallet. Following the system, the same thing that runs in your mind over and over again for the sake of your dream popularity. Nice guy in a jean jacket, that’s what you wanted. Their eyes locked on you while you walked out, keeping your friendly vibe despite the anger boiling inside you.
Days turned into weeks, and you received the same usual treatment from them all over and over again. You just seemed to be these morons play toy. Every time you’d walk back home, it’s always frustration that you’d bring, that you just wanted to beat them until they begged crying on the floor. If it weren’t for your scholarship that required you to behave and act like a chained goat around crocodiles, then you would have shown those morons what they deserved.
As well, you continued to ignore your ‘appreciating’ attitude neighbor. Between those days, you were used to it, and then you felt it’s something normal you’d do. Until one day, while walking back home, she approached you with crossed arms in the middle of the street. The sun had started to set down on the thick, dark clouds like it’s clinging on its own. She wore a simple black shirt and denim shorts.
She pulled out a few money bills from her pocket and reached it at you. “Here.”
“For what? ”
“For saving me last week.”
“No need, thank you anyway.” You began to walk.
“I’m just returning what I owe you.” She continued, and you paused.
“I don’t look like money, Miss. I just did what a normal person would do—help somebody who’s in distress. I didn’t do that to impress and such. Just take your money.”
“Every Monday, you’d walk past my house between five and six in the afternoon. Then, all of a sudden, you appeared nowhere on the street at nine? ”
“And you’re assuming I'm stalking you? ”
“I didn’t say anything, boy?”
You groaned. “You know what? A simple thank you will end this conversation instead. Besides, I won’t even have a conversation with someone like you anyway.”
“Hm? Thank you, my neighbor superhero; that’s what you want to hear, right? ”She forced a smile, narrowing her eyes. “Plus, why do you even want to be friends with me in the first place? You boys are just the same. Tell me you’d be friends with me, then I get comfortable with you, let you inside my house, and then we wait to invite each other to fuck in each other’s mouths in my bedroom. That’s your plan, isn't it? ”
You scoffed. “This woman is ridiculous.”
“Don’t act blurry, Y/N. You guys have the same minds when it comes to meeting girls.” She tilts her head, keeping her gaze. Though she’s pretty and her pair of alluringly slender legs, it never came to your mind to fuck her somewhere else around.
“Alright, you're generalizing too much. Look Miss, I just want to be friendly to the people around me. You’re my neighbor ma’am. The lot on my left is empty, and you’re the only person I could talk to around this place. Isn’t that hard to understand?” You answered. “And, did you just call me by my name?”
She kept her composure, not even saying a single word.
“See, I must be right, you are friends with the famous girls in the university. That night, I saw three girls visit you in your house. There are three as well in the school: Lisa, Jennie, Jisoo, and you’re probably the Rose that James was talking about.”
“So what?”
“So what? It means that you’re just one of them. A bunch of assholes that make fun of students not popular as you all do, and abuse their souls out just because they don’t fight back.”
“Oh, I’m an asshole now?” She took a step forward and landed a push on your chest. “Talk shit at me if you don’t put your ass down when Deandre is around you.”
“I ain’t a coward around him, don’t you dare call me that.” You pointed at her.
“Then what do you call yourself then?”
“I’m doing it on purpose. I just want . . . “ You cut yourself off. Opening up your dream of being a popular boy in the university will just ruin your image more at her. “I’m doing it for my scholarship. You think I’d still be here if I punched him in the ground?”
“A scholar?’ She scoffed and glanced around her surroundings. “Poor for you, you have to endure that. So don’t cry on me that you’re experiencing those. You chose this University, face the consequences then.”
She might sound aggressive, but some of her words were right. Her last phrase ‘ you chose this university and face the consequence ‘ hit you. You wanted to experience life in the west because you saw how most of your relatives seemed to enjoy their lives here. Luxurious sedans, modern houses, that’s what you saw most in their pictures. Then you wished to apply your school experience here from your hometown thinking it’d just be the same.
You had mixed feelings with your encounter with Rose; disappointment and excitement. She was fierce and straightforward. Up close, you wouldn’t expect such an attitude from her gorgeous visuals. You wondered if she had a boyfriend, or probably no one would even wonder with her arrogant attitude.
She was annoyingly attractive.
The next day, it was Saturday, so you had no classes. You finished all your assignments right away before so you wouldn’t worry about chasing papers to your professors. You went for a jog around the village, no streets were missed to walk into. Most houses were colored assorted but had the same design as yours and Rose’s.
Finishing your lap, you walk past Rose’s house and see her garage door lifted open. It wasn’t hard to see her in the dim, and when you got close, just under the garage door, you saw her fixing a vehicle’s engine. The car was purple, you could tell beneath those dusts, and looked like a mustang built from 80’s
Black stains marked her arms and gray shirt. She wore baggy pants and a cap, her pony tail squeezed between the cap’s closure. She noticed your shadow from the floor and quickly looked back with her wrench pointed at you.
“What are you doing?” She asked in a warning tone. There was visible tiredness within her eyes.
“Are you trying to fix your alternator?”
“Why do you care?”
“Maybe I can lend some hand for you, I missed doing mechanical work, especially with cars and stuff.” You leaned against the wall, crossing your arms.
“I don’t need.” She turned back and continued her hands on the engine. You just watched her, she said no and you wouldn’t want to be an annoying fly that would force yourself into her.
Several seconds later, there was a spark and she squealed, pulling her arms away quickly and moving from a distance. Her eyes slowly looked at you, her face fresh from shock.
“You just made the scenario worse.” You stepped in and took a look at her engine, where you noticed a red wire with little smoke in it. “Worse thing is, you’re trying to check every wire in here when this red wire has visible tears on it.”
“What are you saying?” She gave you a look as if you’re saying bullshit, still standing at the same spot.
“Your alternator is shorted. So you might need to get yourself a new wire for this.”
She slowly took her steps closer and stood beside you, picking the red wire where the smoke had fully disappeared. She watched it close, then her eyes shut as a sigh escaped her mouth.
“You can buy some wires there in town. Just gotta tell the staff there this and that and you’re good.” You began to walk away
“Shit.” She groaned, then turned to look at you. There was frustration in her tone. “Alright, can you do me a favor?”
“Favor? I thought you didn't need my help?”
“Come on, please don’t be dick head for now.” She hisses.
“I’m now the dick head between us now huh? After talking shit at me yesterday?”
“Y/n!” She widened her eyes, warning you.
“Now, you’re turning the tables again” You scoff, then reach your palm at her. “Money.”
“I don’t have cash right now.” She dug her hands in her pockets. “I’ll just pay you in some way, Just-“ She groaned. “ Buy me the wire for now.”
Well, you couldn’t resist her. She had this sort of lack of temper management, maybe only to you or to everybody, but yet you still find it attractive and hot. The wire shouldn’t cost much of your cash so you agreed with her request.
It only took around ten minutes to find the exact wire from mechanic shops and later you arrived back at her house. The wire cost two and a half dollars. You bought two in case things went sideways, you knew how Rose would obviously act if it did so.
“You sure this is it?” She looked up at you.
“Yeah. I told him my boss would kick me out of the house if he gave me the wrong one.”
She chuckles, it was your first time seeing a smile form in her lips and it was beautiful. You hoped you’d see more of it. You began to step out of her garage again and her face became intrigued,
“Where are you going?” She asks.
“Home, why?”
“Did I tell you to?”
Your brows furrowed. “Are you my mommy or something?”
“No, but you can’t just leave right away.”
“Why not?”
She tilts her head, resting a hand over the car’s grills. “So you can just walk away from your asshole neighbor that easily?”
“Probably yeah, I hate assholes.” You grinned and she turned her back at you, continuing her hands on the car. You heard her talking with her head ducked inside the engine.
“Alright, stick with your decision then. ”
You left out a quick chuckle at her before you walked away from her garage. The sun had shown a great promise above the skies where you wanted to get off right away under its burning rays. Before you would have reached the tree near your house you heard Rose make a loud “ow” that sounded like a moan and groan at the same time. It sounded good, you didn’t deny. There was this sort of excitement inside you when you heard it, but still it’s just bad.
You ran back then found her at the same spot, her head still ducked in the car’s engine, and when she noticed your shadow she slowly looked back.
“What happened?” You asked worriedly.
“Why are you here?”
“I heard you just yell or so and I thought that something happened to you.”
“I thought you didn’t want to help me.”
You glanced away. “Human instinct bro. I mean come on, even a stray ass dog will come here when you yell like that. So what happened?”
She smirked and shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe I hit my head? Lost a finger, popped my eyeballs out.”
“What the hell is that answer?”
She rolled her eyes and threw the wrench at your front. “I obviously need help, asshole. Why the hard to get behavior?”
“I’m not.” You picked up the wrench and slowly stepped into her garage once again. “It’s you who’s doing it. Acting arrogant the whole time then turns into a little pup when things go down.”
She pushed your arm and it left a black stain on your gray tee. “Yah? Calling me a little pup as if you’re not one as well in your school, huh?”
“I’m just doing it for the sake of my scholarship and dream popular-“ You quickly stopped when you realized you slipped off your greatest secret, but it seemed too late already you saw her eyebrows raised and she chuckled.
“Popularity? So you want to be a popular guy huh?” She covered her mouth, and you watched her giggle in amusement. “This dude what the hell?”
“Alright, laugh all you want.”
She continued laughing at you, placing continuous taps over her car. You felt embarrassed that you wanted to squeeze yourself into a tin can, never to be found again. Was this a turn off? Nevertheless, you began fixing and removing the old wires of the alternator of her car, making yourself busy at least.
“Yeah yeah.” She finally uncovered and heard her sniff. “Fucking hilarious, that is something that a nerd guy would dream in a high school musical. Damn boy, I never thought you’d be funny” She stood beside and noticed your silence. “Wait, so you’re not joking?”
When you didn’t answer, she placed another push on the same spot, turning the stain even darker.
“Don’t make a fool of yourself, Y/n.” She said between chuckles. “Tell me that you need bitches without actually telling me you need bitches.”
“Hey?” You paused while ducking in. “That’s not the point why I want to be. To be honest, I don’t need one.” You lied. Though you wanted one, maybe someone like her or either herself. She gives this bitch vibe who’d you call ‘mommy’ and kneel upon while she verbally or physically abuses you. She’s hot as hell.
“And that’s something a bitchless guy would say in a girl so he’d feel like ‘I’m manly and tough, I don’t need girls in my life because they’re bunch of useless beings’ “
You tapped the battery with the wrench, sounding a ‘ting’, and you stood straight. “You know what, I’m done. Fix it yourself.”
“Oh no, baby boy is crying again.” She made a mocking sad face. “Did I hurt his feelings again?”
“It’s just annoying that you’d always make me look like I’m some weak ass shit who couldn’t do anything.”
“I did not say you are, and plus I’m just stating the facts based on my experiences.” She snatched the wrench out from your right hand, then moved closer at you.”They’d tell me the same sentences all over again thinking they’ll impress me.” She squints her eyes, tilting her head. Her hair brushing over your hand. “But guess who’s falling into their knees at the end? Calling me ‘Mommy’ while I ruin their mental shits out and even with those they’d still always look for it.” Her voice became soft, a lingering mischief within her tone. “Seems like I’m pretty irresistible right?”
You were frozen, and at the same time you’re lowkey enjoying the moment with her hidden side.
“Why aren’t you answering, you know I hate these kinds of people who leave me hanging.” She added while she kept her eyes locked on yours.
You shook your head to snap yourself back to reality, you were falling into her trap or some sort of hypnotism. She’s too alluring, every second you’d feel something pulling you into placing your lips on hers.
“Whatever, I’ll just finish this” You ducked back below the hood, continuing your hands on the wires. “I still have a meeting later.”
She scoffed. “It’s Saturday dumb ass.”
“Meeting isn’t always related to school.”
“As if I knew it?”
So you stayed by her side most of the day, fixed her broken mustang’s alternator, then had small conversations with her. You were getting dirty every hour. The amount of dust, dried oil stains and burnt ashes all over, but you didn’t care anyways. She had treated you to lunch, surprisingly for her, and you’re starting to see her bright personality on every hour that passes by. You thought James lied.
When you got some water inside her house, you saw notebooks and pens on her desk and the lamp light lit open. Most books had your university’s name on it. A brown acoustic guitar with a capo stood beside the desk. She plays instruments? Damn she’s just attractive.
Finally, you had replaced all the broken wires with new ones and when you told her to start it up, the mustang came into life, roaring while the engine shook within the rhythm. She squealed in happiness. You saw her covering her mouth from the windshield while she enjoyed the view inside like a kid who sat in a Lamborghini for the first time of her life.
You stepped a few steps backward and enjoyed the view of her car that was revived from the dead. You let out a relieved sigh. You watched her step out from her car as she approached you with a light smile on her lips; now this seems sincere rather than a forced one.
“Ko-ma-wo”
“Uh, what?”
“It’s thank you in Korean.’ She answers.
“Oh” You hesitated for a second, then gave her a quick bow despite looking stupid because you knew that’s what most Koreans do when receiving thanks. “No problem.”
“As I told you a while ago that I’m pretty cashless right now, I don’t know how I would pay you.”
There were a lot of thoughts running in your mind, and obviously they were what a guy would like for a hot girl to do: free sex, having her knees down at the floor while she devours your cock, maybe a dog style on the garage, or maybe be his boyfriend. But you were educated, not some punk ass dude who’d treat them like objects. You knew the boundaries, so instead you just kept it to yourself.
“It’s fine, you don’t need to. I enjoyed fixing your car anyways, so it’s more of my own liking rather than a forced work.”
“Well . . . I don’t think I can agree with that.” She looked skeptical. “I just don’t feel like living in a world knowing I’m indebted to someone.”
“It’s fine, Rose. I volunteered, so I don’t really need you to feel indebted just because of that. I told you myself, I don’t need it.” You emphasized the final three words, hoping she’d finally agree with your request. But it was not a request either. You’d call it a consolation thanking because she finally talked to you properly without being a bitch.
She sighed, her eyes closing while she looked down. Both of you were outside the garage, but still under the lifted door that covered you from the blazing heat.
“I’ll think about how I would pay you. But for now, thank you for your help.” She nodded lightly. The smile was still light.
“Alright, I’ll see you again.” You smiled back. “Take a shower already, you don’t wanna stink and get seen dirty by the neighborhood.”
“Yah? Even if I’m dirty like a beggar, I won’t stink.”
“Of course, you’d tell me that.”
So another point for your memorable interaction with the neighbor. She is Rose. You’d call her with that from this point. You remembered that moment where she was very close to you. And right, you were stiffing and yet you had to make yourself looked calm as possible because you didn’t want to look so weak and soft either. That voice while she tells how most of his boys called her ‘mommy’, was enough to make you gulp alone in your bed while leaning against the bed board with the blanket covering the lower part of your body.
One final check on her wouldn’t hurt, so you did peek over the window—saw the lights shut on her bedroom—then laid back to your bed, thanking god for a great Saturday.
Sunday ran past as there wasn’t something to do. You just stayed up inside the house, fixed some things and arranged your items that didn’t need to be arranged, and yet you still did. After a while Monday has come so you’re back to reality. Faced with numerous seat works and homeworks, you were buzzed—but then you remembered you had inspiration—Rose. James never knew about her being your neighbor and decided to keep it first to yourself. She might not want others to know her presence and as you knew James thought she had left Canada.
Deandre and the gang were like hornets that had their hive touched by you, they just won’t leave and disappear at least for a day until they sucked out your resources. Most will be depressed, but you were smart—bought a pack of cheap cookies that only cost around five to seven dollars, and you bring one extra every single day for him. Perfect timing, that’s all what it takes—but not now.
You washed your face in the comfort room. The water cold, it was refreshing. You were alone in the room and there was peace at least after a long day merging with crowds in the corridor and the room. The running water from the faucet. When you stepped outside, pulled the door open, a woman stood at the front leaning against the opposite wall. Her eyes on the left corridor and travels towards you once she has noticed your presence out. She had a good set of eyes—more of like a cat shaped and you realized then she was one of Rose’s friends.
“Oh there you are.” She smiled. “So I think you’ve seen me already, probably.”
“Deandre’s girlfriend?” You didn’t hesitate. She was that girl on the court where his arms were around her seat. Was she this? Maybe not, but would it make any difference?
She chuckled, covering her mouth. “Not really. How do you say so, Mr. New face?”
“Well, I just assumed? Just how he’d bring you with him taxing me for some shit everytime in the corridor?”
Her chuckles sounded so expensive that you’d wish to hear it for an hour straight. And with that pretty fierce cat face, every boy would fall for it.
“You're more confident than I thought so.” She smirked. “But anyways I’ll just get straight to the point why I’m here. It wouldn’t really sound good if rumors start to spread when that one popular girl is seen talking to a new bird like you right in front of the male’s restroom.”
“Yeah, they might think—“
“I gave you a head or such.” She interrupts you like she knew what was running inside your head. Never thought she’d be open minded. “So, do you drink or not?”
“Well . . . Sort of? Only at reasonable events and parties.”
She pulls out a card that was entirely white and blank. “Tomorrow, 10 pm in my house.”
“What’s happening? And what am I supposed to do with a blank card.”
“Show that to my guard at the front gate, and it’s a party.”
“Is this a dream or something? Are you really inviting a guy who you have never met before?”
“Well I met you right now, plus it’s more of a friend’s request rather than my own. So are you going, or are you wasting the once in a lifetime chance?”
You were hesitating while her eyes were locked at you, waiting for an answer. But then, she’s right there in front and you wouldn’t want to make herself disappointed. At Least not waste her time inviting you just for you to say ‘no’.
“Alright, I’ll be there.”
Her eyebrows lifted and a closed smile appeared in her lips. “Okay great! Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Toodles.” She walks out, maintaining eye contact for a while while she waves her hand at you. She walks sassy—not in a way she’d wiggle her butt at every step—but more of reminding everyone that the prettiest is passing by. Almost nearing the class shift, it was time for you to head back to the room.
At the final break shift, you opened up the party invite to your friends. They were surprised, obviously. Not even expecting such a popular girl to come right in front of the comfort room to reach out for a party invite.
“Jennie herself?” Clifton freaked softly that only the four of you could see.
“Yeah, she reached me out this blank ass paper”
Your friends studied the paper. There was just nothing, even you could think she’s just fooling out of you. Was she? Yes or no. She doesn’t seem to be the type of person. If she did make a fool out of you—can you even complain?
“Probably invisible ink” Julia says while she tilts it back and forth. “Just not some ordinary paper card you’d cut out”
“Well what’s your plan then?” James asks. “Can you bring friends?”
You place your hand over your face. “Fuck, I forgot to ask. But do you think I can?”
“I’d say not, blud.” Tyrone answers while he pulls his bag from the floor, placing it behind his back. “Those girls are just picky with the people they’re encountering. You're one lucky bastard.”
“How did you make her invite you?” James asks, his tone filled with confusion and curiosity. “As if you’ve done nothing and suddenly that girl just came looking for you . . . Right in the toilet? Pretty bullshit. ”
You shrug shoulders. “I don’t know. Ask her yourself. You know like when the nerd guy in a K Drama suddenly gets the popular girl’s heart?”
James swung his hand. “That’s some bullshit, you ain’t in a fantasy world bro.”
“Like I have the courage to talk to her in the first place?” says You.
“Anyways, goodluck.” Julia raises her thumb. “You have the GC to chat on. If you need help, we'll be there.”
“Thank you fellas.” You smile. Having these kinds of friends is like hitting a jackpot in a slot machine. Only the four of you, even though it might sound little, it was fine rather than a bunch of plastic backstabbers.
Back home it’s the usual routine: gym and cardio. Finished by ten in the night and it was your most late one. You had eaten a set of combo meals in a fast food chain, and it felt like carrying a baby in your tummy as you walked a kilometer.
You saw Rose outside, carrying another garbage bag to be thrown in the can at the front. When she noticed your presence on the street, a light smile formed in her lips, and of course you couldn’t help but smile back. She had a toothpick in her mouth—again.
“Late night junk works.” You began and she chuckled while she pulled the toothpick out from her mouth.
“Late night walk back home.”
“Quite a struggle to find a bus back to this town,” says You.
She pushes the lid down. “Poor you. Why? Was the date so good?”
“Date? What do you mean?”
She raises her brows. Her eyes darted everywhere but you. “Date with your girl or so . . . “
“My girl?” You scoff. “Where did you get that?”
“ I — “ Her eyes finally met yours, and the feeling was different. You could feel it. “—I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking?” She rolls her eyes. “Such an asshole.”
“Well that wasn’t a question tho?”
She sighs, her eyes closing. You loved poking her with your unnecessary follow ups, and seeing her get annoyed feels satisfying— it’s like poking your cold crush back in elementary. You still did remember it. Well, Rose is your crush, sort of? And since silence seemed to follow your words, you decide to add things more.
“I went to the gym, never realized my rest was too long until I noticed the clock, then I decided to eat outside, and here I’am.”
She nods lightly. Her mouth forming an ‘o’ then looks away. “Well, stupid you.”
“Yeah stupid me.” You chuckle, and you find yourself forcing a smile. She’s not even looking anyways so it’s fine. “Anyways, I’ll head home now. I have to rest. You should too.”
She tucks a few strands of her hair behind her ear, then gives a light nod. “Still have things to do. I ain’t like a baby kid like you who needs to sleep early.”
“Well you’re a baby as well: Baby attitude.”
She rolls her eyes; her face shows disgust. “As if I cry when I get real-talked?”
You resume your steps and pretend you don’t really listen to her words at all. Of course, she’d open that up over and over again, and she’ll always find a way to counter you. “Whatever, goodnight.”
“Yeah that’s right, walk away idiot.” She raises her voice, but not that loud for the whole neighborhood to hear. It was only meant for you. “He really always gets on my nerves. But, he’s goddamn kind at the same time. Fuck this, Roseanne.” She whispers to herself while she watches you in the distance. Then later, she heads back inside as well.
Struggling to pick whether a stylish or a casual one, you still ended up choosing nothing. And not because they were your favorites, but because you were overthinking what people like them would wear on house parties. You laid back to your bed and watched the ceiling. What are you even supposed to do now? Countless questions appear every second in your head, and then you start to feel sleepy afterwards, until you drift into paradise.
Tomorrow was just a regular school day. Finished papers and passed them to the professor, hanging out with friends during break, then later on it was wrapping up. Your friends remind you to at least enjoy and behave at the same time; you didn’t know what was about to come later as well. It was around eight and a half night when you got to your house, and surprisingly, Rose was nowhere to be found outside. Maybe she’s busy.
A black loose shirt with spread collar and khaki pants was your choice. It is stylish and comfortable at the same time, making it the perfect outfit for a whole night run with strangers. Assignments and projects were not something to be worried about, as you finished them earlier at the school during break hours. So, you’re currently stress-free—almost. And the only thing to stress right now is the later’s event.
At the front of your house, you begin to book for an Uber. You know it’s costly —as if you have any other choice for it. Tapping the book button, you realized you missed a field to answer, and it’s the drop off location. Shit, you forgot to ask her, and Jennie never said the location either. The paper was blank, so you’re left clueless.
A headlight shone at your spot from the right. You cannot see who’s car it was, but it’s annoying you. Its engine roared when it accelerated, sounding like an old car. As it parked at your front, you realized it was Rose’s, and you saw her when she rolled the windows down.
“Get in.” She began. Her tone sounds like she’s been doing this for years to you.
“Well, I have a party tonight and—“
“And you think we’re not going to the same place either?” She tilts her head and checks her watch. “Almost ten pookie, you don’t wanna miss the party.”
What a savior. Even if she was an annoying neighbor, she was there to help you at the exact time you needed one. She was hot, and her outfit made her more. A black fishnet long sleeves that revealed more of her skin beneath while wearing a black crop top inside. She also wore denim shorts—as usual. This was the most alluring outfit you have seen from her throughout the time that you didn’t even realize you were staring at her throughout the time she was talking.
“Yah!” She raised her voice, snapping you back to reality. She tilts her head with a face that reminds you she was talking.
“Oh sorry.” You shook your head. “I’m just really flaky right now. Finished some assignments and stuff, yeah?”
“Ah, weird for me to tell Jennie to invite a nerd for a party.” She scoffed.
“Do a nerd even wear like this, huh?” You show off your clothes.
“And I didn’t know you could wear something nice at least.”
“Alright, sure. So you picked me up just to insult me again?”
“Just stating the facts.” Her lips form a smirk as she moves her hand over the gear knob. “Seatbelt, Mr. Crybaby.”
You shook your head in annoyance; there’s no absolute counter to her at all. Well there was, but you’re in her car, so as if you have the courage to speak shit at her. Once she heard the click from your seat belt lock, she accelerated the car; hard enough to push you back to your seat.
Throughout the ride, you and her shared a few conversations. Watching the lights across the town, it was amazing. The car ride vibe was entirely different compared back to your home country. You’d describe it way more peacefully by the few cars that came from the opposite lane.
Shortly later, she parked her car behind a black SUV. When she told you this was her place, you stepped out and stretched your arms. The walls were perfectly trimmed bushes that were almost thrice the size of your height, it was funny. Several parked cars lined up in the same direction where Rose’s car was, and most were luxurious ones, ranging from Chevrolet’s to Mercedes’s.
She guided you inside, where you saw how wide the place was. At first, you thought it was some event place or house. But when Rose told you this was Jennie’s, it gave you another reason to believe your friend’s words that messing with them is the biggest mistake you'd make.
The guard let you both in when he inspected your invitation cards with a small blue lighted flashlight. He was well built. The clothes shaped his width, reminding the ones who would want to trespass her place. Inside the house, it was slightly dim, and it gave a sort of club vibe where you have to walk through darkness before seeing the lights. Well you did, but instead, it was a living room with some people around. The lights were pinkish red. Few people were on the second floor while some leaned against the railings.
“Rosie!” The short haired girl approached her. She was tall and was one of the three popular girls. “I like your outfit, so freaking bad.”
“Do you really have to glaze me that much, Lisa?” Rose grins while she holds her hand. Lisa’s eyes slowly land on you as her eyebrows raise.
“So, who’s this new face you’ve brought tonight?” asks Lisa.
Rose looks at you, and while she says her words, she keeps her eyes at you for a while before looking back at her. “A kind guy who helped me fix my Mustang last week in my garage.”
“Oh, so we’re bringing strangers now?” Lisa looks at her while she lands a few glances at you.
You felt Rose’s hands around your arm, and her thumb began rubbing shapes in your skin. “Darling, you really think I’m just bringing strangers here? Of course, you know the obvious."
Lisa’s expression turned bright as she nodded several times, knowing the answer through Rose’s actions at you. “You’re starting to keep stories from now, huh.” She pokes Rose. You didn’t even expect Lisa to reach her hands at you. “Lisa, by the way.”
“Y/n.” You accepted the hand offer. A judgmental person, that seemed what she is, and the courage she had to call you a stranger in front of you was bewildering. Good thing, Rose managed to play it off smoothly, and you didn’t expect her to save you at all, knowing she’s an asshole towards you.
When Lisa walks away, you look at her. “Why did you save me?”
“I’m not entirely an asshole to embarrass a person who helped me as well,” says her as she meets your eyes. “Come, I’ll let you meet my friends.”
“Shit, that would be too embarrassing.” You slightly pull away.
“I thought you wanted to be popular?”
“I do.”
“And I’m giving you the chance, yet you’re here with your baby attitude again.”
“Shit.” You sigh, resting your hand on your hips while you try to gather your courage to face such students like them.
“Tonight, you’d be known as my boyfriend, and they won’t do shit about it.”
“You’re my girlfriend?” You raised your brows. “How I wished to be.”
She tilts her head as her eyes narrow. “Just for tonight, idiot.”
“Oh.”
“And yeah, keep wishing. As if I’d boyfriend someone like you.” She rolls her eyes and starts to pull your hand with her. “Come on, no time to waste.”
Yeah, rejected as usual. You were just playing with it; you intended to act sad, but still it was quite painful to hear such rejection. She led you to a couch where her friends sat, and you saw a person that's always ruining your mood every time you see him. Deandre, he was there, at the couch sitting beside Jennie. And as Rose feels your sudden step aback, she grabs your wrist.
“If I say you touch me, you will touch me.” She softly says while both of you approach. “No but’s and if’s.”
“Hey, baby.” Jennie stands and approaches her, kissing cheeks. “Quit late, huh?”
“Sorry darling, my boyfriend is quite a snail-head in times of events like this.” She grins, looking at you.
“What a surprise, Y/n,” says Jennie. “You didn’t even tell me yesterday that our Rosie is your girlfriend already. Quite a mysterious transferee, huh?”
“Uh,” You stutter, and when Rose notices your awkward act, she warns you with her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Keep it lowkey, I guess.”
“Ah lowkey.” Jennie lightly nods and nudges your arm. “I understand, you know. Rose is quite a popular one in school, and I assume you’d hate rumors when they realize you’re a transferee.”
“Yo Jennie, why invite an outcast here?” His voice. Once again, you heard it, and it’s enough to ruin your mood. “Guess you got the wrong person. I don’t think he’d enjoy the party by reaching out for glasses and serving us like a waiter some shit.” You heard his friends share chuckles and laughs.
“Deandre, what a fucker.” She whispers, rolling her eyes. She was still facing you.
“Babe,” says Rose, enough for Deandre’s whole friends to hear. “Come sit beside me, I’m missing your touches quite fast already.”
So she called you babe, and hearing it was enough to make you blush deep inside. You’re just both acting. You reminded yourself, and this isn’t the best time to dwell into your feelings. You followed her request and sat beside her. As you sat, she rested her right leg over your thigh, and snuggled against you.
All of their eyes, even Deandre’s, were on both of you. They were silent, some looked away and pretended like they didn’t laugh at his joke. Rose enjoyed the view on their faces.
“Touch me, now.” She whispered while keeping an eye on them.”
And gently, you did. You placed your hand over her thigh and caressed it gently, enjoying every inch of her skin. It was smooth and soft. You could stay up the whole day doing this over and over again, and not get tired.
Deandre was silent. Within those smirks and scoffs in his lips hides the embarrassment he feels towards the both of you.
“At Least he could pull Rosie than you could do.” Jisoo teases. She was sitting on the right couch.
“She just had no one to bring, trust me.” Deandre answered back.
“Not really, Drei. We both know I could bring any handsome guy in the school with a simple hi, right?” says Rose. “Just tell me you’re being a crybaby because you were not the one with me tonight.” She looks up at you; your faces are a few inches apart. “Right, babe?”
You were getting flustered, but it’s all just a plan, remember? Everything is fake.
“Yeah, yeah.” You forced a smile.
“Aww come on. What’s with those simple answers?” Rose pouts. “You don’t love me?”
“Ah, of course I do love you so much.” You took the courage to caress her cheeks, down to her neck. “You’re so gorgeous tonight.”
Then, you felt her hand over your chest, where she unbuttons one, caressing the same ways as yours.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” She says between.
Your said so ‘cuddles’ was enough to shut Deandre’s mouth more. Another scoff from him, then a word never came out of his mouth again. He only watched both of you share cheeky moments together. His friends shut quiet, acting normal, some were on their phones. Deandre’s dogs, that’s what they are.
The heat between the three of you has finally cooled down, they were avoiding their eyes on you, while Deandre would place glances sometimes. Jennie came back to the table with bottles on both hands: a whiskey and gin. Shit, liquors, it’s been awhile. You had the last of those during the post-prom night event, where you stayed with close friends, drank all night; not even caring about your haggard looks.
All part of new friendship—you wanted this. Jennie insisted on pouring the liquor on your shot glass. You didn’t expect her to be this kind. You assumed she’s a two sided woman.
It was bitter, felt your throat burn as the liquid passed down. You hid your uncomfort through closing your eyes and swallowing hard, while looking emotionless. It’s a tough battle. Shortly after a few shots, your body seems to condition the liquors, until you realize you’re starting to drink it normally.
Looking at Rose, she’s hell of gorgeous. The way she sat, both legs over the sofa, her whitish purple hair free on her left shoulder while she rested her left hand on the cushion—was a sight to enjoy. Beneath those fishnet sleeves teases her curves and smooth skin. The world seemed to slow down, it was just her you see. As the pink light colors her face, there was the sense of allure and attraction within your heart.
You excused yourself for a bathroom break, they didn’t seem to care, so you went right away. Splashed cold water on your face from the faucet, that was it—you just wanted a refreshment. The bathroom luxurious. As you stepped out, you had to pass by several couples who were making out on the wall.
Back at the table, Rose had become quite more flirtatious. She was getting drunk; Jennie told you, and the fact that it was your first time seeing her act like this was a changing experience. So you just let her be. It’s only a plan, something not to be serious about, and within her touches and snuggles lies nothing but falseness and showing off to people—she’s just helping you, remember. She’d never be your girlfriend. Smiles and laughter surrounded you, and you were just here forcing yours.
You had decided to take fresh air outside Jennie’s place, right at Rose’s mustang. The sight was relaxing, though it’s nothing but a grass field. You stayed under a tree beside her car. The crescent moon shone between dark clouds, and there were the stars.
You were drunk; you knew that, and as you shook your head more makes your vision get fuzzier—it was funny.
You heard crunches of soil near you, and behind you saw Rose approaching. She walked playfully, swinging her arms freely. “Hey baby.”
“Stop that.” You forced a grin.
“Why? Don’t you love it when I call you that?”
You walked towards her car, and leaned against the hood. “No.”
“No your ass, bitch.” She stood beside you and playfully pushed your arm using her body. “What are you even doing here?”
“Taking fresh air.”
She giggles and covers her mouth. “Just tell me you’re not used to crowds.”
“I’m used to it,” says you, “I’m just exhausted.”
“Ah.” She lightly nodded, and there was silence. It’s quite comfortable to have moments like this with her alone in a quiet night—wished you’d have another of this soon after. Soon enough, you didn’t notice she was looking at you until you glanced at her.
“I like your outfit.” She smiles lightly. “Not being an asshole, but it’s really nice.”
You were flustered. “Thanks . . . I just save this kind of clothes for times like this. But you know what’s nicer?”
“What?”
“If I don’t have these on.”
You winced internally, almost wanting to run a kilometer away. Rather than a disgusted look, her face showed off more of a disappointed look.
“That’s some corny ass shit, Y/n.” She scoffed.
“Just kidding, forget about that.”
“I don’t forget corny jokes that easy, crybaby.” She tilts her head and teases you with a forced pout.
“Well . . . I’ll be honest right now,” You say, “I like your outfit as well. Quite weird for me to see you getting attractive each day.”
You said it from the bottom of your heart. She really was. Everytime you’d see her outside her house, despite the same clothing style she’d still be beautiful.
She seemed to accept your words. Then, she moved closer to you, her eyes gazing at yours. “You know what will be better?” She tilts her head, her body shifting at you. “And it’s when these are off from me, and it’s right in your hands. "
You froze, and found yourself staring back into her eyes while she wore that mischievous smile on her lips. She copied your joke, but why did it work so well for you. Her deliverance, not so maybe.
“Why is Mr. Tough guy silent, eh?” She leans, your face a few inches between, and grins while giggling mischievously. “Feels shocking when your words are thrown back at you as well, doesn't it?”
“Yeah, and you said it so well that it didn’t even sound like a joke anymore.”
“Oh?” She tilts her head, keeping her face close at you. “Did I even say I was?”
Both of you were close, and the urge to kiss her lips, pull her into you, consumes your mind. Your heart was racing fast. This is the time, to take your chance, to finally fulfill that desire you wished. It didn’t take long enough for her to notice you glancing into her cute lips.
“Come on, do it.” She says softly, her breath hot on your face and smelled of liquor. “I could see it in your eyes, Y/n.” She moved even closer. “Do you need mommy’s permission again?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, hesitating. She’s drunk. She doesn’t mean anything of this, and you didn’t want to take advantage of her—even if your urge to do it was boiling inside you. Shit, whatever. You didn’t want to miss it, and you finally took the chance as you pressed your lips on hers. They were smooth like cushions. It all started off with just presses and touches of lips, and the play had changed when she placed her hand around your nape. You’re completely clueless with kisses and such. There you let her continue the kiss, feeling her pulling your lower lip between her lips, giving it a tender suck. Your heart was racing faster, feeling the excitement consume your body. But it’s right here—it’s happening.
She slowly pulls away, tracing her hand on your cheek down to your neck. “Looks like someone doesn’t know how to kiss a girl, hmm?”
You nod sheepishly and look down in embarrassment. Never in once you did have. Shortly, she lifts your chin back at her.
“Let me guide you then.” A sly smile appears on her lips “Inside the car.” She commands as she walks towards the driver door, biting her lips at you.
As you sat inside, she pushed the retract button of your seat, then straddled herself atop you as the seat retracted full. She wasn't heavy at all, yet the feeling of her weight on top of you was euphoric. There’s no such thing as discomfort when an alluring woman is right on your front.
She flipped her hair to the right, then sensually slid her fingers from the side of her neck, down to her shoulder, where she pulled down her sleeve to expose her bare shoulder. “Am I pretty, asshole?”
“Yes, you—”
She leaned and crashed her lips once again into yours, not even letting you complete such a compliment. The rhythm turns aggressive, and the way she’d devour your lips like no tomorrow excites you even more while her hands cradle your face. Her curves were delighting as you placed your hands on it.
You didn’t know how to answer her kisses back, and you let her control you. She wasn’t even complaining, seemingly enjoying the position she had, and as the make out prolonged, you began to feel her tongue between your lips, where you didn’t hesitate to welcome it as she explored your mouth. Your hand grips into her waist as you feel your body burning into excitement.
She pulled away and sighed sensually, straightening her back. She licked her lips wet and bit her lip while she gazed into your eyes full of lust and desire. This is a drunk Rose. In any situation, she’d always look gorgeous—hot.
“Ssibal , igeo neomu segsihae” She hisses, pressing her hands over your chest, then slowly unfastens your buttons. Contemplating decisions, she stopped when you grabbed her hands.
“Rosie, do you really want this?”
She scoffed, and pushed your hand away. “You really had the audacity to stop me when you can’t even kiss properly, huh?” She leans closer into your face, making sure you’d hear the following words from her hot mouth. “And I don’t want you calling me with that name. Wouldn’t it be better if you start calling me—“ She moves to your ear, whispering “—your mommy , hmm?” Slowly, she runs her lips into your neck. “You know I hate when something gets in my way, and you just went and did it. But lucky you, I’m not in my mood to give you pain. Now, all I just want is something inside me—and I think your goddamn dick is the perfect one.”
Your cock stiffened even more. Her words were not something you’d expect from that asshole neighbor weeks ago, with only eyes and gazed communication that became tiring every single afternoon. From giving eyes, to exploring each other’s mouth in her car—it escalated fast.
She helped you pull her fishnet sleeves down from her shoulders, leaving only her black crop top and her delicate skin. Her hips began to rub into your crotch slowly, like she knows how much your cock wanted it—and you really did. A sly smile would form in her lips between grinds when she sees the enjoyment from your eyes. Your breaths and her soft moans fill the quiet surroundings.
Quickly pulling down the black crop top herself revealed a pair of tits that hid beneath the thin fabric. They were just enough for your palms to hold on; perky, petite, and soft. Her nipples hard, and while your thumb enjoyed caressing it, she’d arch her back and let out moans. Her hips continued to grind you. She went faster as you massaged her tits like it’s a separate thing from her.
“Fuck.” She moans and holds your hands, pressing it more into her breasts. “I need something more than this.”
The door clicked on your side and she pushed it open, welcoming the fresh air. You watched Rose dismount herself from you. There were no people around, and she wouldn’t be seen either as she used the mustang as a cover.
“This way.” She pulled your arm, shifting you to face her outside while keeping your ass on the seat. She knelt down; you know what’s gonna happen next, and you were bracing for it. While she unbuckles your belt, she’d give quick glances at your eyes, her lips smirking like a girl unwrapping her Christmas gift despite knowing what’s about to show up already.
Pulled your pants and underwear hard down to your feet, she let out a moan as she appreciated the view of your stiff cock.
“How I missed this.” She points it towards her mouth before her tongue darts out to give a wet lick around your tip. A shiver runs down to your body; irresistible, sort of shocking yet you wanted it for long. It was your first time, and it is addicting. She teases you with her tongue licks around your tip, then shortly, she takes you into her hot mouth, pushing herself into your base. You gripped your hands behind, on the seat, clinging yourself within Rose’s devious act.
The woman moans between swallows, her bobs going slower, then faster — then slow again. You closed your eyes to savor the sensations flowing outward from your crotch. Your hands are gripping the seat harder. You couldn’t help but get mesmerized by the view of her sucking your cock off while kneeling down on a rough concrete road outside, shirtless with her breasts exposed—nipples hard.
You run your fingers on her hair, gripping a few strands as she pulls away.
“Mind helping me?” She looked up at you with a provocative gaze.
“You can’t just suck my dick like this while being shirtless outside.”
“Why?” She raises a brow while keeping a hand wrapped around your cock. “"Don't you want them to know that the guy who they think they can just boss around like a poor pup, is currently having his cock swallowed by the popular guitarist student of Chandelier Academy?” She gives your cock a quick swallow, leaving a slick sheen of her spit between it and her lips. “Are you ashamed of mommy giving his fake boyfriend a head?”
“No.” You shake your head sheepishly.
“Now shut your goddamn mouth.” Then the ravaging continues, slightly raising herself to face your cock down, pushing herself until your base. A moan escapes your mouth; it was sensational, and you’d never get tired—wishing this would last until the morning. Your hands made way on a few strands of her hair while she gave your cock a deep throat, and sensing her struggle you gently pushed her further down, feeling more of her mouth’s insides.
She gags; you were worried, and she felt it when you started to loosen your grip on her hair, so she grasped your wrist back and pressed your hand tightly once again at her hair—telling you to continue further—and so you did. All you could do was watch your arrogant neighbor take herself deep into your cock, and as well savor every delicious sparks of pleasure radiating from your shaft, up to your spine and into an overwhelmed brain.
“I’m cumming, mommy.” You hiss between gasps. It was near, and within these seconds you’d create a mess in her mouth. Rose responded by quickening her pace, up and down—fast. And you found yourself groaning, placing your hand over her head like you were clinging your life into it. No questions needed to ask whether you’d pop it out inside her mouth or not—that was the answer. She went faster every second, and shortly, feeling it now at the edge of your cock, you released it into the back of your neighbor’s needy throat. The sense of relief consumed you. All of that stress and hesitation turned into nothing but thick white semen inside her mouth.
She finally slows her pace, her mouth still wrapped around you as a mix of your cum and her saliva glistens on your cock. Then she looks up at you.“I missed that, did you like it?”
Your nods formed a smile on her lips, and soon she stood up on her feet where she pushed you inside further. Closing the door with her, she moved to the driver seat, shifting her body facing you on the passenger side, where she spread her legs. Her denim shorts were still on, and when she noticed you just watching stupidly, she raised a brow.
“I removed your pants myself, so are you,” stated Rose. This was the greenlight, your hands made way into the button of her shorts, unfastening it, and pulled it to her knees. Her black undergarment greeted your eyes; you kept it on for a while as you admired the view of her delicate thighs, running your hands on them. You’d tease her with your slight touches over her crotch area, where she’d let out a soft moan despite the black thin fabric that separates you and her skin. “You know how to make a woman wait, huh?”
“I’m just making every second count,” says you between heavy breaths. “Might be the first and last.”
“And who said it would be?” Her fingers run on your jawline, as excitement fills you upon hearing those words. You heard it right— might not be your last ever; she said it herself and surely it wasn’t your drunk mind making up voices. “Now don’t keep me waiting before I change my mind.”
You placed kisses on her legs, up to her thighs, then to her belly. Her skin is soft, addictive. Running your hands on her hips while you plant those sweet kisses, she’d spread her legs wider, telling you she couldn’t wait to give in.
Pulling her black undergarment down welcomed your eyes with her delicious pussy, like a meal you’ve wanted for years. Your body burning with desire and lust, and you didn’t wait any longer to devour her cunt right away, latching your lips around her tender flesh.
“Goddamnit.” She grunts, her hand grabbing into your hair as she watches you. Shortly, your fingers find her opening and slip inside, sliding in and out, as you lean towards her to suck her nipples. She was at your mercy, and the sensation was consuming her.
“Faster” She let out a small whimper, her eyes shutting tightly. In response to her request, you quickened your pace, moving faster than usual. Your fingers wetter. “I’m near”
She’d keep her vulgar words until now, but that even made you like your work at her even more. Her hands were still over your head, her nails digging into your scalp. Pain was nothing but an obstacle, you didn’t really mind.
(You quickened more)
At the final reach, she lets out a gasp as she orgasms; her slick wetness dripping into your fingers. Her breath quickened, and she closed her eyes in relaxation, then ran her hand over her messy hair while her desirous eyes gazed at you. Her body was irresistible. You’d take a curvy petite figure every night and day with you without getting tired.
A sly smile spreads across her lips as her gaze settles on your cock. “Now for the exciting part.”
She pushes herself upright, wrapping her arms around your neck as she crashes her lips against yours, hungrily devouring the kiss. Your bare skin touches hers, and what excites you more is seeing her slender, naked figure right in front of you, her weight over your lap as you feel the heat of her body.
You let her do her work on your mouth. Messy? It was not for you— just entirely hot that you’d last forever doing this with her. She pulled away to position herself atop you. Your cock quivers with need. She grips your cock and gently teases it over her needy clit. Her eyes dripped with lust, mirroring the slick sheen of her body.
A moan of pleasure escapes her lips as she finally lowers herself onto your cock—a sound that’s hot and bratty, just as you’d imagine. Her arms remain around your neck as you sit upright, her body pressed close to yours, with her long hair cascading over her face, hiding it from view— you know she’s watching herself.
It started off slowly. You, who was your first time, found it slightly uncomfortable at first, but as time progressed, where she began to change her pace, made you forget such thoughts. Her hips grinding against yours was all that mattered; you loved seeing both of your naked bodies pressed together.
“ Jenjang Y/N. neo jonna himdeureo (Fuck Y/n, you’re so fucking hard.)” She muttered close to your ear, sounding very tired— though her pace over you said otherwise, grinding faster. You didn’t understood a single word from her, probably her dialect on Korea, but her tone was enough for you understand that she was enjoying it.
Throughout it all, you’re fucking her inside her car, savoring the feel of her orgasming pussy wrapped tightly around your cock with each thrust. Your hands pressed against her curves, feeling the sweat of her body, and supporting her while she gives a nice ride over your cock.
You’re nearing your peak again, and she’s grinding against you faster now, loud moans escaping her lips. One arm stays draped over your shoulders while the other runs through her messy hair and then over her head. You enjoy the view of her sweaty body, and your hands find their way to her breasts once more. Her lustful eyes lock with yours, and she eagerly devours your lips. Her body presses harder against you, matching the rhythm of her fast grind.
“‘Shit!’ Rose gasps, her voice trembling with anticipation and broken by breathless moans. She’s approaching her peak as well, her body tensing with each thrust. Just before you can release, she quickly pulls away, raising herself and stroking your cock rapidly. Thick, white semen erupts from you, spilling out with each stroke as it travels down to her fingers. At the same, she runs her fingers over her clit, her own juices mixing with the mess on the floorboard.
Her mouth finds its way back to your cock, swallowing it deep and then licking the remaining semen from around it. It glistens with her saliva and your cum, but what you appreciate most is the sight of her face beside it, a hint of your semen at the corner of her lips. Fatigue is evident in her eyes—she looks ready to sleep, or maybe not, as she hints at the possibility of another round.
“Like that?” she asks softly.
“Who wouldn’t?”
“My exes,” she shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips. “Maybe it was me, so I had to improve.”
“So I’m lucky to experience your improvement.”
“Kinda.” She rests her chin on your lap. “I’ve never slept with a guy without being in a relationship first. So, yeah, I guess so.”
#blackpink#blackpink rosé#blackpink roseanne#university#canada#smut#blackpink smut#roseanne park#bp rosé#bp roseanne#male reader#jennie blackpink#blackpink lisa#blackpink jisoo
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Hii girl since you said requests are open I was thinking about reader who loves to get Ethan hard in the most random situations, maybe while they're with friends or in class.
Ps: I love your writing
A/N : Hii ! 🩷 Thank you so so so much for liking my writing and sending me this fabulous request for our boy Ethan, it means a lot to me and I had so much fun writing this 🥰 Please send me your feedback to let me know how I did, it always helps me improve and I hope you’ll like it. Don’t hesitate to send me other requests for our lovely Ethan, love you and enjoy ! ✨
Reader who loves to get Ethan hard in the most random situations.
❦ When Ethan Landry is in love, anything can make him blush and get him hard, really just a kiss or a hug is already enough for him to want you and it annoys Ethan so much to be this weak for you. You could simply be looking at him with doe eyes and a pretty smile while he rambles about his day and the poor sweet boy would avert his eyes from you as he feels his cheeks warming up. Taking his hand in yours in the corridors, to intertwine your fingers, also works very well, Ethan doesn’t mind it, he loves it even, but he’s not used to receiving such affection, just like he’s not used to you complimenting him, as you softly murmur against his lips that he’s « so pretty » while you gently caress his face.
❦ Making out with your boyfriend in front of your friends, your lips pressing kisses on his jaw and neck literally makes Ethan’s head spin as he doesn’t know how to react between completely surrendering himself to you or keeping a straight face in front of Chad and the others.
❦ But obviously, what works best is just letting your hand wander up his thigh under the table and slightly brushing the outline of his cock that’s covered by his jeans that keep getting too tight to his liking, Ethan’s breathing becoming heavy while you act so innocently in front of the others as you all eat.
❦ Sending hot texts to Ethan during classes. That could go from nudes that force him to go to the restroom to take care of his hard-on, to just teasing him. « Do you think this table is sturdy enough for you to take me, Ethan ? », your boyfriend’s eyes are entirely focused on your text as he swallows with difficulty at the fantasy of taking you right here.
❦ Whispering dirty things in his ear while Ethan is in a conversation to make him lose his mind. The poor man doesn’t even know what he was saying seconds ago, as only stutters come out of his mouth now that your lips describe the sinful things that you would like him to do to you.
❦ Making sure you wear the sexiest and prettiest panties under a cute short skirt. And whoops what a strange coincidence, you have to bend down in front of your innocent boyfriend so Ethan can, by chance, catch a glimpse of the pink lace material. Though, Ethan will make sure he’s the only one to see that gorgeous sight, by correctly putting back in its place your skirt behind you when you stand up. What also really works to get him hard is gently asking him in the early morning if he can help you dress, when really Ethan perfectly knows that you can do it yourself. « Please baby, can you help me with the zipper of my dress ? » You bewitched Ethan in such a delicious way, that you can feel the way his fingertips shake a little as he slowly closes your dress.
❦ Considering that your boyfriend trusts you fully, he gave you his phone password ages ago. Little did he know that you would take this opportunity to set his new wallpaper with a quite revealing picture of yourself. At the sight of this, Ethan is debating whether to keep staring at it or to hold his phone pressed very close to his chest so that no one can look at it. « You really are a little minx, aren’t you ? », Ethan would corner you in the corridor as soon as he saw it.
❦ As Ethan helps you study, just like every evening, you make sure to sit on his lap as he explains to you the math exercises, wiggling your butt from time to time just to hear Ethan gasp behind you, his words cut by his own little moans and whines. « Did you u-understand everything ? », Ethan would ask in a stutter. « Yeah, thank you Ethan », you answered him as you kissed the corner of his mouth with a smile.
❦ Ethan reading a book on his own on a bench outside during lunch break as you go over to him with a sweet smile just to sit on his lap, resting your head on his shoulder and whispering in his ear. « What are you reading ? » Ethan doesn’t trust his voice and decides to show you the cover instead while his free hand tightens around your waist.
❦ Asking your boyfriend to accompany you when you go shopping for new sexy lingerie. Ethan shyly waits for you outside the fitting room as he hears you calling his name, hesitantly entering the cabin with you as you ask for his opinion. You slowly twirl around in front of him as his cheeks become red and Ethan knows that he won’t be able to hide his hard-on this time. « You like it ? », you ask him with an innocent smile. « I-I, fuck yes I do », Ethan mumbles as he doesn’t find the will to avert his eyes from your gorgeous body. « But don’t you think it’s a bit overpriced though ? », you ponder. Ethan is quick to make a decision for you, « Don’t care, I’ll buy it for you. »
❦ Watching a movie together at the cinema and there’s a random erotic scene appearing on screen as you ask Ethan in the most innocent tone. « Do you think we could do it ? ». And it’s enough for Ethan to lose his complete interest for the movie, his whole attention now entirely directed to the thought of him and you in the same position as the scene in front of his eyes. Ethan shifts in his seat as he prays for the movie to be over soon enough for him to show you how well he can make this scene come true, hell even in his car if he can’t wait to get back home.
❦ Asking Ethan in the middle of the night to help you sleep in his own way, as you whine sweetly into his ear to wake him up. « Please Ethan, can’t sleep, need you so bad… » Ethan rubs the tiredness out of his face as he takes you in his strong arms that create the most soothing embrace for you. The way you whined and wiggled in his hold was enough to feel Ethan’s hard-on press lightly against your tummy. « My poor baby…Need my help ? Want me so bad that you can’t sleep ? Don’t worry angel, I’m here. »
❦ Now, there’s just a subtle difference in how Ethan would react to this kind of teasing. And it’s simply linked with before and after he lost his virginity to his girlfriend.
❦ Before he made love to you for the first time, Ethan’s reaction would look innocent but really it’s just him trying not to look like a pervert that gets indecent dreams about his girlfriend almost every night and day. He would be a blushing mess that only tries to stop your hand as he fidgets a bit in his seat and stutters while looking elsewhere. « Please, s-stop it, sweetheart…That’s just m-mean… »
❦ After you both had sex for the first time, Ethan would obviously still get madly flustered at your teasing but he also knows that he’ll be able to get back at you when he has you alone for himself, as Ethan warns you about the possibilities which are now offered to him. « You do realize, love, that you’re gonna pay for this tonight, right ? » And Ethan never forgets about his little revenge as he let it all out on you, overstimulating or edging you, it depends on his mood but he, for sure, will tease you in bed as much as you did with him earlier that day. « Did I fuck the attitude out of you, angel ? »
💗 Ethan Landry Masterlist 💗
#ethan landry smut#ghostface smut#ethan landry x reader#ghostface#scream x reader#jack champion#ghostface x reader#ethan landry#jack champion smut#scream smut#my own stardust#ethan kirsch x reader#ghostface x y/n#ghostface x you#scream#scream 6#scream x yn#scream x you#ethan kirsch#ethan x reader#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry x you#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry fanfiction#ethan landry fluff#ethan request#answered asks#fluff
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ehem... gynecologist Yeonjun?! a totally professional setting and uh- well, I guess he needs to take a closer look at you 🤷♀️
- xoxo, liv MWAH
Gyno!YJ x Patient!Reader
nsfw/mdni: professional nipple play, professional fingering until it's not
---
"Kai don't you have a friend that is a Gynecologist?" you ask your best friend.
"Yeah that’s Yeonjun, why?"
"Well,,, can you send me his office number so I can see him?"
"O-oh yeah ok" Kai blushes not wanting to think of what problems you were having.
The problems you were having was sex. You just weren't getting wet enough, it hurt when your hookups weren't experienced enough to realize. So much so you had to start investing in lube and had to stop everything to explain that you need it. Nothing wrong with that but you think its hotter when you're so aroused that a man can just slip in.
So there you were sitting in the waiting room of gynecology. The natural light from the windows casted over making the cream color wallpaper comforting. A bowl of candy sat next to a bowl of pads and tampons next to a bowl of condoms, which was super convenient. Maybe I should start going here for my pap smear? you thought to yourself.
Your name was called and you followed the nurse to a private room equally as warm and comforting as the waiting room. The nurse asks you questions of history, medications, and why you're here. You're embarrassed and a little irritated knowing that the doctor will come in asking the same damn questions.
"Alright, are you ok with taking your clothes off and putting this gown on?" the nurse asks showing the white paper thats supposedly cover you.
The nurse leaves letting you know that the doctor will be in soon. You shiver as you undress, slightly rushing just incase the doctor is somehow on time. You sit back on the table and wait.
knock knock
You jump at the alarming sound, "Come in!"
Shit, the doctor was none-other Dr. Yeonjun. You knew you were going to his office but you thought he'd be too busy to be the one to see you. You had a crush on him, always excited to see him every time he met up with Kai. "Hey y/n, how are you?" Yeonjun asks with his sweet smile that could make everyone melt.
You two do your greetings and he gets up, "can I do a breast exam," you nod opening your gown. You shiver as his hands grope your breasts. Eyeing his face, Yeonjun is simply focused but you couldn't help but blush at his darkened serious face. You swallow hard when his nibble fingers brush against your nipples. "Heard you're having a hard time getting aroused, have you used lube?"
"Yes its a fine supplement, but I was concerned that it could be from something else."
"Well its a good thing you came in" his eyes scrunch up as he does that beautiful smile of his, "can you put your feet up for me?" You comply and raise your legs to rest on the high rise feet stools. You squirm in your spot feeling uncomfortable with how exposed you are.
"Honey,,," you shiver at his low voice, "you seems to be aroused enough right now." Your eyes widen, lifting your head to look, of course not being able to see anything other than Yeonjun putting on gloves. His eyes were glued to your pussy, a gloved finger drags down your pussy lips spreading them to get a better view of your cunt.
You were dripping and you didn't realize. Yeonjun moves his finger up to inspect your clit pressing light circles, "you look very healthy to me." You nod knowing that he won't notice, his finger slides your wetness all over, then down to your weeping hole. "Let me take a deeper look," he probes a finger in you making a small whimper come out of your lips.
Finally, this is what you've been wanting to feel like for so long. Your body wants to grind against his finger but you try so hard not to because this is supposed to be a health check up.
"Do you mind if I move faster?"
A slight gasp fills the room when you feel the Yeonjun's warm breath so close to you, "n-no not at all." Wet lewd noises began to fill the room letting the doctor know just how well you are. Soon he adds another finger in your cunt having you moaning. All embarrassment gone, all your humility was out the window when you feel his other gloved hand play with your swollen clit. Yeonjun bites his lip, focused on your arousal, happy he has Kai's pretty friend like this, and at work? so much better.
One loud drawn out moan empties out of your throat when Yeonjun skillfully abuses your g-spot. You cum on his fingers, turning the blue gloves a lustful white. Yeonjun slows down his movements helping you with your high. Removing his hands from you, he pushes himself on his rolling chair to grab paper napkins next to the sink. Then grabbing a towel to clean you up nicely. "Well it looks like you're doing just fine dear, maybe you just needed someone like me to help you out."
Glad you don't have a problem, worried that you might have a different sickness, you're obsessed with the doctor. You look over at Dr. Yeonjun, first watching him get rid of the ruined gloves, then your eyes drift down to the obvious tent in his pants. "Yeonjun, you're hard."
He looks down then at you, "I sure am, but I did schedule a lunch break after your appointment," your eyes light up, "how about we do another assessment?"
A nuisance,
TxT's Devil
taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling
#txt devil#txt hard thoughts#txt hard hours#txt x reader#txt smut#txt x you#txt x y/n#yeonjun smut#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun hard thoughts#yeonjun hard hours#choi yeonjun smut#yeonjun x you#yeonjun x y/n
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Text
in my head
synopsis: you're paired with your crush and resident popular girl on campus for a project for the rest of semester
warnings: maybe a swear word or two
w/c: 5.5k
a/n: I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE REQ IM SORRY TO THAT ANON who requested this and also sorry it took me so long to get around to this i just couldn't think of anything to write bcs i alr did the nerd momo x popular reader fic and i fear this trope is too overdone for sana so... there is nothing rly original here LOL i stroogled i lwk wish i did not fill this req bcs i hate this fic HAHHA i gotta learn to say no ><
༺☆༻
“alright class, pair projects for this semester will be randomly assigned.”
there are collective groans from around the room but you only pray that you get a partner who knows what they're doing. you didn't really have a problem doing group assignments all on your own, it was better quality that way anyway, but it'd be nice if someone else could contribute a little every once in a while.
"check your emails for who your partner is. please get acquainted and exchange contact details before next week."
everyone quickly pulls out their phones, laptops, or whatever device they use during class, you follow along, logging in and scrolling to find the correct email.
minatozaki sana.
before you can even conjure up the thought oh shit she's skipping up to your table with a bright smile.
"hi! y/n?"
you sputter, unable to look at her, choosing to fiddle with your screen and panic scroll through random weather predictions and calculator apps. yes, plural, apps.
she's hard to ignore though, bending down and tilting her head so you're forced to look at her. when she catches your eyes she smiles again, "we're working together on the project this semester."
"u-uh y-yeah i s-saw."
"mhmm. wanna exchange numbers now?"
"oh! right yes of course sorry." you fumble, handing your phone to sana. she giggles, taking it from your hand and replacing it with her phone.
"cute background."
"oh that's- i'm not-"
"it's okay y/n. i'm a closet glee fan too." she winks at you, handing back your phone with exceptional speed.
you curse under your breath, quickly typing your number in and handing her phone back, thinking about the brittana wallpaper you have set on your homescreen. why did you have to be such a nerd?
"thanks! i'll text you later and we can meet up sometime this week to talk about the project?"
"y-yep. that sounds g-good."
she smiles that bright, blinding smile again, turning with a flourish and skipping over to her friends.
you were so fucked.
༺☆༻
minatozaki sana was the most popular girl on campus. captain of the cheerleading team, notorious for her ditzy charm and line of admirers. girls like that weren't exactly the type to be top of the class or put much effort into their studies. they were already guaranteed shoo-ins at major marketing or HR firms that liked pretty faces to hike in business, if they weren't already signed to modelling or acting gigs that was.
it also didn't help that you were at the wee end of her long, long line of admirers. you hadn't intended to fall for her. you knew it was completely unrealistic, you'd bet she didn't even know your first name until she got paired with you. so you knew what you were getting into when you first started paying a little more attention to her in class, noticing small things about her like the way she'd scrunch her nose when she was confused or didn't know how to do a question, or the way every time she'd get even remotely excited her left foot would start tapping, like a puppy wagging it's tail when it gets excited. you couldn't help but notice these things and who could you blame? it was minatozaki sana, you certainly weren't the first to fall for her charms, just definitely the most unlikely to actually end up with her.
so it was fine that you were paired up. totally fine. you didn't mind putting in the extra academic work if it meant you didn't have to speak to sana or even mildly interact with her. you were fine doing everything on your own so that she, or god forbid, any of her popular clique would never be able find out about your embarrassingly impossible crush for sana.
santana💜: hi! is this y/n?
you blink down at your phone. this was not who you thought it was. there was no way.
y/n: who's this?
santana💜: im sana! i named myself santana in ur phone bcs of ur brittana wallpaper ;) yk... ur brittany bcs ur a secret genius and im santana bcs... well our names are kinda similar!
y/n: oh... haha right. yeah this is y/n
santana💜: would u be free to come over tmr? to get a headstart on the assignment? or i can go over to urs instead if u want :)
y/n: oh it's fine sana u don't have to pretend to do anything. idm doing the whole thing and submitting for both of us i won't tell the teacher dw
santana💜: what?! who do u think i am y/n?! im not just going to let u do the whole thing on ur own! come to mine 8pm tmr ok? i'll text u the address later
you stare down at your phone. okay so that plan wasn't going to work. you could be cool though. this would be fine. totally fine.
y/n: ok
༺☆༻
you knock on the door of the address sana gave you after her cheer practice. you had spent the past day overthinking exactly what was going to happen, whether or not sana really did want to contribute or if she was still just doing this for show. or if something even more sinister was planned, probably not by sana, but you'd seen some of the people she hung out with, you wouldn't put it past them to go back to their high school bully ways and pull a prank on a nerd like you, even at their adult age.
but when sana opens the door with a beam, her smile is bright and seems devoid of any hidden intentions. you honestly feel a little bad that you had doubted her when she's looking at you like that. but you remind yourself that sana was just that sweet of a person, she looked at everyone like that, you weren't special.
you cough awkwardly, offering a polite smile and stepping in.
"my housemates are out tonight so we have the whole place to ourselves."
"oh cool."
"do you want anything to drink?"
"just water would be great thanks."
"you can go ahead to my room. it's the second door on the right. the bathroom's right opposite it as well if you need to go or anything. i'll be with you in a sec." she smiles at you again, going off towards the kitchen to prepare some snacks and your water.
you tentatively step further into her home, feeling very out of place, but also curious at the pictures and trinkets everywhere, your first glance into sana’s real life.
you follow her directions, walking towards her room and stepping inside, not really surprised at the pink-tone hues that greet you.
sana’s room is cute. she has polaroids and film prints of her and various friends and family hung up next to her bed, a pinboard with small reminders decorated with stickers and more pictures, posters stuck up with and fairy lights strung across various surfaces.
“sorry it’s kinda messy. i haven’t cleaned in a little.”
you turn at the sound of her voice, suddenly finding her much less intimidating in her pink fluffy slippers, suddenly she just seemed like another girl, not the person on the pedestal that you, and most of the campus put her up to be.
you smile, genuinely this time albeit still a little awkward, “it’s fine. i don’t think it’s messy at all, i like it, it’s cute.”
“really? you don’t think it’s childish or anything?” sana pouts slightly as she settles a tray of snacks and water on the table next to her bed and then sits down, shuffling the various amount of japanese plush toys around.
“not at all.”
she grins then, gesturing for you to sit.
you follow suit, crossing your legs and sitting on the floor, taking out your laptop and papers from class. “so have you had a chance to read over the assignment brief yet? it’s okay if you haven’t, i was honestly surprised you asked to meet up so early, technically the only assignment for this week was to exchange contact details.”
sana slides down so she’s on the floor next to you, knees touching, you don’t see it because you’re focused on the fact that your skin was now touching and she was close enough for you to smell her designer perfume, but she pouts before speaking, “do you seriously think i’m just some slacker y/n? i asked to meet up because i wanted to get this assignment out of the way while it’s still early in the semester. before things get busy and we both get swamped with our other classes.”
“o-oh right i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to… well yeah anyway... so i was thinking-"
"you totally thought i was a slacker didn't you?" you can't ignore her when she peeks around to eye you.
"i- well-"
"it's okay. most people think we're all just bandwagoners and yeah i admit i know some of the people i may be... affiliated with are those types of people, but i'm here because i wanted an education and i'm serious about it. so don't try and do all the work on your own okay? we'll split it evenly."
you're more than embarrassed now. you had boxed sana into a stereotype that she was obviously aware of and actively against. “right i’m so sorry oh my god- i didn’t mean to- i-“
she laughs then, hitting your shoulder playfully, your skin burns at the contact, “it’s okay y/n! you’re adorable. thanks for wanting to do everything at first but i can handle my own and i won’t let you down!”
you blush, looking back down to your papers but comprehending none of the words on it. "right. i'm sorry again... and thank you." you manage to mumble out.
sana giggles internally, finding you very cute. and she loved cute things as evidenced all over her room.
༺☆༻
the following weeks you start spending a lot more time at sana's place, to the point where you've met all her roommates and their partners, and it doesn't feel weird for them to see you around the house. it was a pretty rigorous assignment and it involved a lot of hands-on research and time dedicated to it.
you're still complete strangers at school though, sana was still the popular it girl, always surrounded by groups of people, while you were the nerdy nobody.
so it definitely comes as a shock when sana slides into the seat across from you while you're eating your lunch peacefully alone in the cafeteria, mindlessly scrolling through tiktok.
your eyes almost bulge out of your head when you look up and see her bright smile, scrambling to make space for her and take your airpods out, almost knocking your juice popper off the side of the table in the panic.
"s-sana! what are you doing here?!" you're pulling the straps of your bag towards you so it's no longer occupying the table space opposite you, that obviously meant that spot was occupied, a cue sana chose to cheerily ignore.
"just saw you eating alone and wanted to join you!"
"o-oh. you don't have friends waiting for you?"
she shrugs, plucking a fry off your plate, "not really."
you shrink into your seat as you feel the eyes of the cafeteria land on you and sana, whispering and pointing at you. you’ve never wished more for the floor to swallow you up than in this moment.
“so i was thinking-“
“sana! what are you doing here?”
oh no. you did not need any more attention on you right now. least of all from park jihyo, student council president, and kim dahyun, student council treasurer, both of whom were on the same level of popularity as sana with just as many admirers.
jihyo slides in right next to you while talking across to sana, dahyun happily greeting sana and sliding in next to her with her lunch tray.
“jihyo! dahyunnie! i thought you both had a student council meeting right now?”
“got postponed. our secretary fell sick and we can’t proceed without her so we just decided to wait until she got better.”
they fall into easy conversation while you shrink even further into yourself, squeezing your arms into your sides so you’re not made known to the other two who still haven’t acknowledged your presence.
“ugh practice was such a drag today.” yoo jeongyeon slides in next to you, still in her lacrosse uniform, throwing an arm over your shoulders without seeming to realise who you were. you flinch at the action.
this was so not happening to you right now.
hirai momo slides in next to sana, eyes trained only on her tray as she mumbles a greeting with her mouth full with food already.
oh good lord what did you do to deserve this?
at least you’d met momo before since she was one of sana’s roommates but she still only really knew you as ‘sana’s project partner’. the others you’ve only seen from afar, and until now you were half-convinced they weren’t really real, too far up the social ladder to ever be associated with the likes of you. jeongyeon was the star lacrosse player and team captain of your school, which was renowned for it’s lacrosse team. hirai momo was apparently roped into playing lacrosse but really excelled in the world of dance. apparently she’d already had experience touring as backup dancers for major hit singers.
jihyo wrinkles her nose, speaking over you to jeongyeon, “yoo jeongyeon you stink. didn’t we allocate an extra $3000 to shower renovations last year? we did not do that so you could continue to sweat all over me.”
jeongyeon sticks her tongue out at jihyo, “i was hungry. besides i’m not sweating all over you. and you don’t mind do you- wait- who are you?”
your eyes widen when you realise jeongyeon’s now addressing you, and then suddenly the entire table’s eyes are on you.
you feel your face going bright red, coughing awkwardly and staring down at your plate of food. “u-um-“
“this is y/n! she’s my friend!”
you look up to see sana beaming at you.
“oh… how do you guys know each other?”
“we were paired together for that pair project i was talking about- you know for my class about sustainable engineering? momoring knows!”
momo grunts in acknowledgement, offering you a fleeting smile before returning back to her food, not entirely interested with this conversation.
“wait- how does momo know her and i don’t? momo spends all of her time in the dance studio, and if she’s not she’s only ever focused on food!”
“maybe you should be a better student council president and know all your students then hyo.”
im nayeon, co-head cheerleader along with sana, her title alone demonstrating her popularity status, teases jihyo with a grin, standing at the end of the table in her cheer uniform, commanding all attention from anyone who wasn’t already watching your table in curiosity.
“oh shut up nayeon.” but jihyo quickly turns to face you, offering a hand and a bright smile, “hi y/n! it’s nice to meet you! i hope we haven’t been giving you too much trouble.”
you quickly shake your head, taking her hand gingerly, surprised at the strong grip she has.
“momoring and nayeonnie have already met y/n because she’s been over at ours a lot to work on the project together.” sana perks up again, and then looks at you again, not that her eyes have really left you but you didn’t know that, “sorry for all this by the way. my friends are obviously people blind.”
“speak for yourself sana. the amount of times you’ve called out the wrong name in bed-“
sana flushes bright red, shooting up and slapping a hand over nayeon’s mouth while the others crack up in laughter.
"ignore her y/n. she doesn't mean that."
sana smiles through her teeth while nayeon makes muffled sounds of disagreement, and honestly it is a little funny so you can't help but laugh alongside them.
in the end, you don't mind too much that sana's friends invaded your lunch time. they were a lot less intimidating than you had thought they would be, similar to how you had judged sana prior to actually spending any time with her. it was still awkward to feel the eyes of jealous onlookers but sana stealing food off your plate every few minutes and making sure you were included in the conversation was enough to make you feel welcome and ignore those looks.
༺☆༻
"y/n! i got those projections we were talking about last week." sana bounds up to you outside your lecture hall.
"sana? how did you even know i had class at this time?"
"i asked around." she shrugs as if it wasn't a big deal for her to actively be looking for you and for her to know your schedule, "here- what do you think?" she hands over a few documents and you shuffle to the side so students can continue moving in and out. that also meant you were basically boxing yourself into the small corner next to the door with sana blocking your way out. you can feel a few weird glances look your way, wondering how you of all people knew one of the most popular girls on campus.
"it looks good sana."
"great! are we still on for tomorrow night? coach put nayeon and i in charge of practice this week but i may have bribed nayeon into running it herself so we can spend some more time on the project without her nosy self at home."
you nod, handing back her papers, "yeah, i'll be over around 6?"
"sounds good! see you then!" and then she's kissing your cheek and flying off before you can react, your hand coming up to touch where she had pecked you seconds after she's gone.
"-don't know what she sees in them."
"right- you think y/n's paying sana or something?"
"no way sana would do that though. i bet she's just using y/n for help with study or whatever."
"nah i've seen sana's marks, she doesn't need the extra help. maybe she's just toying with y/n. could be a dare or maybe she just has a nerd kink, or wants to try it out once and drop her."
"oh true hahaha i'd almost feel bad for y/n but it is pretty funny watching her prance around sana like she has a chance."
the sounds of laughter drift down the hallway as you stay rooted to the spot, completely invisible to the rest of the student body.
were they right? was sana just pulling you along? fuck you were so stupid. of course she knew you had a crush on her. everyone had a crush on her. you thought you knew sana but now you were starting to doubt your perceptions of her all over again. ugh you couldn't do this. you felt so embarrassed thinking about the amount of time you've spent with sana. all that for her to just be stringing you along, maybe even laughing behind your back with all her friends, you were so stupid for thinking you'd ever move out of your miserable social status. you were at the bottom of the social hierarchy, and she was at the top, it would always be that way, and people at the top don't want anything to do with people at the bottom unless it's for their own benefit or entertainment. sana was not an exception.
༺☆༻
santana💜: hey u still coming over? i maaaay have tried to cook dinner for us both even tho momo always warns me not to step foot in the kitchen and ig she was right this time... so i'll order takeaway? thai food okay?
santana💜: everything okay? sorry if thai food wasnt ur style >< i can order sth else instead but the foods getting cold :((
santana💜: im guessing ur not coming :( hope everythings okay w u!! ill see u at school soon 🥺
༺☆༻
you’ve been trying your best to avoid sana ever since you overheard what those people thought of your relationship with her. it was difficult when she would send you daily texts asking where you were and how you’ve been, even i miss you texts with the little sad face emoticon that had your fingers aching to text her back but you resisted. this was for the best.
but of course as soon as you started avoiding her you also started seeing her around campus a lot more than you used to. she’d pop up everywhere you were, at the library, in the hallways, on the fields, you’d always manage to shy away from her gaze but you don’t think she was doing this on purpose. maybe it was just the fact that because you were avoiding her, you were a lot more noticeable of her presence.
it was hard to keep this up though, especially when the time of the week came that you shared the class you had been assigned project partners in. you had seriously considered faking sick when you woke up in the morning, thinking she could manage class on her own and you’d just email her your parts of the assignment or something. but you got out of bed reluctantly and trudged to class, coming up with as many excuses as possible for having not responded to any of her messages and ditching your last meetup.
you sigh in relief when you walk into class and see that people are still milling about, slowly trickling in, and sana’s seat is still empty. you slink to the back of the classroom, pulling your hood up and turning on your laptop to tap mindlessly at the keyboard, hiding your face behind the screen.
you can hear when the class starts filling up, sliding down further in your chair and avoiding eye contact with everyone.
you can also hear the moment sana walks in, flanked by her friends with that high-pitched laugh and sunshine energy, the class suddenly seems twice as bright as it was. god you missed her. and that was pathetic of you! she didn’t even care about you! you stay resolute in your avoidance, only allowing yourself a second to bask in her voice before closing yourself off again from the outside world.
it’s only when the teacher walks in and starts reading the roll, that you have to squeak out a small ‘here’ when they read out your name. you avoid her gaze when you speak up but you can see in the corner of your eye, sana whips her head around and stares at you with wide eyes, her mouth open in surprise. you shrink back down but she continues to stare at you for a few more seconds before frowning and facing back forward when her name is called out.
you spend the rest of class hiding behind the screen of your laptop, formulating a plan on the fastest way to get out of class once it's over so you don't have to talk to sana.
unfortunately, the teacher seems to have taken notice of your lack of participation, when usually you're the only one in the class who is able to answer their questions, or even mildly paying attention, so you're pulled back when you try to escape, the rest of the class chattering excitedly while leaving class.
"what's wrong y/n?"
"nothing. sorry, just not feeling the best today."
the teacher eyes you, "is the pair project going alright? you didn't sit with sana today."
you gulp, "it's fine."
"are you sure? if sana's making you do all the work you'll tell me won't you?"
your eyes widen, "no! no sana's a sweetheart she-" you catch yourself, sana wouldn't really be a sweetheart if she was playing with you would she? "she's been great, she's contributing and pulling all of her own weight and more. to be honest... i'm probably the one who's not doing my part right now..."
the teacher hums, "alright y/n. let me know if there's anything i can do for you. go home and rest."
you nod, adjusting the straps of your backpack and trudging outside.
only to find sana waiting outside the classroom with her arms crossed, tapping her foot in the way she does when she gets annoyed.
as soon as your outside she doesn't spare you a second glance, grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the closest empty classroom and closing the door behind the both of you, standing against it so you have no way of escaping.
"wh- sana! sana what are you doing? i have class!"
"no you don't. the only class you have on wednesdays is the one we share. after that you normally go home or to the library before getting dinner outside."
"what- how do you- have you been stalking me?"
she frowns, "have you been avoiding me?"
"i- what makes you think that?"
"you didn't come last week. and you haven't been answering any of my messages. and i'm not stalking you i just thought we were friends and i like to know my friends' schedules, so when you didn't turn up to any of your usual study spots...i got worried. i thought you were sick or something. but then i saw you at the dessert shop outside the council centre where i volunteer and you didn't look sick at all. in fact, as soon as you saw me you were healthy enough to run off."
you gulp nervously, stepping back, only for sana to step forward. your eyes flit around, looking for any possible exit or distraction, anything would be better than confronting sana right now.
"i just- um- i-"
sana pouts, "did i do something? you'd tell me if i did right?"
"no! you didn't do anything. i just- um-"
she raises an eyebrow. you fiddle with your fingers, unable to look her in the eye.
"w-what do you want with me?"
sana doesn't seem to expect this answer. "what do you mean?"
you sigh in frustration, running a hand through your hair, "it doesn't make sense. why would you want to be friends with me? you're popular and smart and beautiful and you don't hang out with people like me."
"is that what this is about?"
"no- well- yes- i overheard the other day, some people talking about how you were only using me or that you didn't have good intentions with me and i just- i didn't know what to do."
"and what do you think?"
you look up at her then, her gaze is steely, there's no hint of her usual smile. "w-what?"
"is that what you think of me? that that's the kind of person i am? that i'd do that to someone?"
you're taken aback, "i- n-no! i-"
"then why did you listen to them? you're not stupid y/n i know you can form your own opinions on people. you're not like the others, or at least i thought you weren't. i didn't think you'd judge people off of what you've heard about them, i thought we were friends y/n."
"i didn't i- we are- i just-"
you take another step back, needing to create distance between the two of you, needing to think without sana's presence making your head all muddy. but with each step back you take, sana takes one forward.
"was there something else? were you looking for a reason to avoid me?"
another step back, another step forward.
"no! i- i didn't-"
"tell me the truth? please?" you're backed into the wall, nowhere left to go, and sana only steps closer. you can feel your heart rate picking up at her proximity, she's looking up at you, puppy eyes and a pout on her lips, you were so weak.
"n-no i don't- there's nothing else-"
"hmm." she's so close you can see the way her eyelashes flutter when she blinks, can feel her breath on your lips.
you can feel how hot your cheeks are, sweat collecting in your clenched fists. she's studying you, eyes flicking over your face, when your tongue pokes out to wet your lips, purely out of habit and stress, her eyes dart down and watch the movement, snapping back up to your eyes once you were done.
and then suddenly, she blinks and there's a change in the atmosphere. there's a curl of her lips, her eyes conveying something you can't quite decipher.
"do you... like me y/n?"
you blush impossibly brighter, "i-i- well- i-"
then her lips are on yours, just the barest brush of her skin against yours, like a sigh against your lips, but when she pulls away, she doesn't go far, her lips still hovering over yours, looking up at you through her eyelashes.
"it's okay if you do."
you're completely dumbstruck, hand twitching, wanting to reach up and feel your lips, to see if this was really happening.
"because i'd be lying if i said i didn't find you attractive."
your mind goes blank, struggling to catch up. "w-what?"
"i don't kiss just anyone. nayeon may have made that comment about how many people i bring home but none of them compare to you. you're different. you don't want me just because i'm pretty and easy."
"i- i-"
she leans in, pecking you softly again, before leaning back fully to give you space, turning on her heel. "think about it y/n. once you have an answer, stop avoiding me. you know where to find me." and then she's stepping outside the classroom, and you feel like you can finally breathe again, letting your brain catch up to what your body just experienced.
༺☆༻
it takes you a few days to fully come to your senses.
sana stops actively searching for you, but you still see her around campus, only she seems to have decided to give you space, not acknowledging you if you saw her in public or walked past her.
so sana obviously knew you liked her. it just didn't make sense that she could like you too. you took days trying to find any way this could've happened, tracing over every interaction you've had with her in your head over and over, trying to find any clues for her feelings towards you.
it crossed your mind briefly that this was another one of her possible ploys to embarrass you. but she was right when she confronted you, you didn't think she was that kind of person, and none of her actions or the time you've spent with her indicated that she was that kind of person, you needed to trust your own eyes and feelings, sana was being genuine.
it just baffled you how this was possibly genuine, how it was possible for sana to like someone like you. and the only way you'd be able to find out was to talk to her.
you inhale, standing outside sana's apartment. you knew momo had dance practice at this time and nayeon had told you she wouldn't be home because she was meeting up with some friends, so it would just be sana at home.
you knock tentatively, stepping back and collecting your thoughts.
it doesn't help though, because when the door opens, all comprehendible thoughts fly out of your mind, replaced with the mental energy required to memorise sana, her hair up in a messy bun, oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, large glasses on, looking like she just woke up from a nap.
sana's eyes brighten when they see you, leaning against her doorframe and raising an eyebrow expectantly.
"h-hi sana."
"hey yourself. what are you doing here?"
you take a deep breath. you had prepared for this. "why do you like me?" well that was not what you had prepared.
sana smiles amusedly, "i told you. i like that you see me for who i am rather than who i present myself to be. i think you're very cute, you get along well with my friends, you're incredibly smart, and even though you think a little too much over what other people say, we can work on that."
your eyes widen at her answer.
"it's simple y/n. do you want to be with me or not? don't overthink it. we can work out any issues that come up overtime."
"i..." you look down to your feet, blushing, then looking back up to her, "yes. i do want to be with you."
sana grins then, not missing a beat, swooping in and kissing you gently, tasting of berries and sunshine. when she breaks apart, finally welcoming you into her apartment, she teases, "i finished our project by the way. you owe me. but i'll accept kisses as payment."
you whine, finally letting yourself be free around her, no longer hesitating to do what you've wanted to this entire semester, bring her up into a kiss that hopefully makes up for the utter loser you've been in her presence.
#sana#minatozaki sana#twice sana#sana x reader#twice x reader#twice sana x reader#twice imagines#sana imagines#dovveri
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daryl x reader
“whoa hey, you’re bleeding.” reader maybe not realizing it until she looks down. falling into his arms and daryl callin for help. whump whump whumppp . set at the prison ?
Family
word count: 1.1k
a/n: finally getting into the swing of things with requests. hope you enjoy anon <3
~~~
The sounds of people yelling and the banging of chain link fences echoed throughout the prison courtyard. You jabbed your knife through yet another walker, grunting as you pushed it through its thick skull. You, along with everyone else in your small group, including Carl, had been at this for at least an hour now, but it was necessary to keep the prison safe. Still, the constant stabbing motion had your upper arm aching. Probably acid and bile rising up from your stomach, too.
“I got the last one!” Glenn called out from the middle of the formation, sticking his knife right in the middle of the walker’s eye. Audible sighs of relief could be heard from the group, along with a victory ‘whoop’ from Carl. Standing right beside you, Daryl was flicking the excess undead blood from his knife and his hands, wiping the rest on his pants. He shaked a stray hair out of his eye then wiped a hand down his face, sighing and sheathing his now blood-free knife.
“Jesus. Glad that’s over. Can’t wait to do that again tomorrow.” He scoffed, leaning against the fence and stretching his overused right arm.
“I know, right? My arm is killing me. Gonna have to… ” You trailed off, suddenly feeling a wave of dizziness wash over you. You leaned your arm against the fence for support and lowered your head, squeezing your eyes shut.
Daryl stopped leaning against the fence and took a cautious step forward towards you. “Hey, you okay?”
You immediately snapped your gaze back up to the archer, desperately trying to seem like you had your shit together. “Yep. Yeah. I’m okay.” You placed your free hand on your hip to simulate normality. That’s when Daryl looked you up and down and his eyes suddenly went wide.
“Woah, woah, woah, hey, hey! Yer bleedin’!!” He quickly stepped toward you, glancing down sporadically.
You placed your hand on your stomach, discovering the right side was wet and sticky. It was, in fact, blood.
“Fuckin’ damn it.” You mumble, before going limp and falling into Daryl’s arms, him catching you by the armpits.
His heart immediately started racing when he caught you and layed you carefully on the dying grass. The few that surrounded you stepped back to give you some space. He instantly got on his knees and inspected your injuries, praying to whatever deity was listening that you hadn’t gotten bit. After a string of mumbled expletives, he shouted, “I need some fuckin’ help over here!” To no one in particular, his frantic eyes never leaving your closed ones.
What he didn’t see happening behind him was Rick rushing to get Hershel, while Maggie and Glenn hurriedly grabbing a makeshift stretcher and bringing it to wear you laid. He quickly got to his feet and helped you onto the stretcher. He was by your side the entire time and throughout all of the noise and chaos, you could swear you could hear Daryl whispering, “They’re gonna be fine. They’re gonna be fine.”
—
You groggily opened your eyes and instantly felt a stinging on your right side. The events of the past hour flooded back, and you wince. You cautiously felt the area, and thankfully you felt a clean bandage.
Judging by the beige ceiling and the firm yet surprisingly comfortable mattress you were on, you had been placed in Hershel’s room. You slowly moved your head to the side, expecting to be met with an equally beige wallpaper, but to your surprise, you were met with a sleeping, hot headed, brunette, redneck.
He was spread out in a chair he had brought from the dining room. His head was lolled towards you, his hair in his eyes and snoring quite loud. You smiled, heart slightly skipping a beat at the thought of him not wanting to leave your side.
“Hey.” You rasped, cringing at your own voice.
Daryl, being a naturally light sleeper, immediately blinked awake. It took a second for the fog of sleep to leave his brain, but it left fast when he realized that you were awake. That you were alive.
“Holy fuck. (Y/N.) Hey. How’re ya feelin’?” He rambled, scooting the chair closer to the bed and sitting on the edge of it.
“Like shit. But I’ll be fine.” You sighed in response.
“Good.” Daryl said softly, letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Hershel said you probably got scratched by a walker. That true?”
You averted his gaze from his and started picking your fingernails, a nervous habit you’ve had since you were a child. “It happened while we were dealing with that hoard. I didn’t wanna make a scene.”
You heard him sigh deeply and didn’t speak for a moment. You turned your head back towards him, and he had his head in his hand, almost willing himself to speak. He looked up and his eyes looked redder and puffier than they were before. “Why th’ fuck would ya do tha’?”
You slowly sat up in a somewhat sitting position to better look him in the eyes. “We all have to protect this place, Daryl! This family! It’s something that most don’t have these days.”
“We coulda had one less person in th’ family if you’d told me about tha’ any later.” He motioned to your wound with a nod of his head.
“You guys can function without m-” You were cut off from your half-joking comment.
“I can’t, ‘kay?! I can’t. So shuddup. Don’t say tha’.” He suddenly raised his voice a little, making you shut your lips and look at him with your full attention.
“Look. I don’t want ya gettin’ hurt. I care about ya. Always have.” He gazed into your eyes with such a fondness you could’ve started crying right then and there. And you would’ve, if he didn’t look away from you in sudden embarrassment. “Yer the only one who keeps me sane ‘round here.”
You sniffed, chuckling to cover up the tightness growing in the back of your throat. “That why you stayed and kept me up with your snoring?”
“Shuddup.” He repeated, sounding exasperated, but you didn’t miss the slight smile on his face.
He then stood up, flexed his probably sore neck, and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. More heat blossomed onto your cheek at the sudden contact.
“Gonna go get Hershel now that yer awake.” He said softly before walking towards the door.
“Can you bring me dinner after pleeeeease?” You asked, your hands in a prayer motion and your eyelashes batting.
He turned around in the doorframe, his hands in his pockets.
“Sure. ‘S a date.” He drawled, winked, then walked away like nothing happened.
Maybe you should have thanked that walker before you stabbed him.
#daryl dixon#twd#the walking dead#twd daryl dixon#daryl twd#daryl dixon fanfiction#asks#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon the walking dead#daryl dixon x gender neutral reader#gender neautral reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon whump#daryl dixon angst
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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)
♫ Summary: Eddie lowered his guard during a late night conversation, revealing crucial details about his past. But was it enough for you to reciprocate? (4.3k words)
♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, homelessness, brief mention of neglect, brief mention of sex work, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)
♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult
chapter four: show me yours, i'll show you mine
If convincing Eddie to take the job wasn’t enough of a struggle, you still had to explain the situation to your parents.
Hi Mom and Dad, I invited a guest to help fix up the motel. The same one who stole a blanket–but don’t worry, I got it back. Oh, and he’ll be staying here for free.
They were understandably taken aback by your decision, especially without consulting them first, but you’d mustered up a strong argument: Eddie was young, he was easy to get along with, and he showed a basic sense of personal responsibility. Not to mention that the place could certainly use the repairs; peeling wallpaper was just the tip of the iceberg. Lightbulbs needed to be replaced, carpets needed to be scrubbed, and the outside of the building desperately needed to be power washed.
“Plus, summer break doesn’t start for another few weeks,” you hastily added. “We won’t need to worry about renting out Eddie’s room until then.”
Mom arched an eyebrow at the newfound ascription—not room four, but Eddie’s room—but said nothing, only looking at your father for his seal of approval.
He breathed out, long and low, trying to do the calculations in his head. Your heart flip-flopped when his gaze dropped to the ground, his signature move when he was about to tell you no.
“If he doesn’t help out, he can’t afford to stay here anyway. It’s not like we’re losing money if he keeps the room for a bit.” You winced at the slight whine in your voice, the opposite of the infallible exterior you’d wanted to present.
Dad laughed, not unkindly, but belittlement panged in your chest nonetheless. “Except for the water, air conditioning, and electricity he uses,” he pointed out, ticking off each item on his fingers. “Unless he plans to only sit in the dark, sweat, and never shower.” He sighed as unmistakable disappointment weaved into your eyes and filled them with tears.
Now you’d have to tell Eddie that the offer was off the table, that he was shit out of luck, that you’d let him down. You never should’ve opened your big mouth in the first place. Captain Save-the-World, except you only ever made things worse. If you wore a cape, it would get snagged on tree branches each time you tried to fly.
“You have a good heart,” Mom spoke up, trying to nurse your wounded feelings, “but kindness doesn’t pay the bills.” She glanced at Dad again, her mouth set in a straight line. “Maybe we can discuss this further.”
You fought to ignore the hope that bloomed from her words, but the corners of your mouth turned upwards before you could rein it in. “Thank you,” you murmured, offering them both a grateful smile.
People called you a ‘bleeding heart,’ teasing you about your constant attempts to solve problems beyond a reasonable scope. At last year’s Thanksgiving dinner, your uncle had informed you—unprompted—that he would never vote for you for President because “you’d just give all my money to the poor.”
While your parents were more realistic with their goals than you were, they did their best to encourage your compassionate spirit; there was no doubt that you got your sense of morality from them. After deliberating on Eddie’s fate for a few hours, they had finally relented—with one stipulation.
“Your mother and I are not going to supervise him, so he’ll have to work night shifts with you,” Dad had said sternly.
“Really?” You clapped your hands in celebration. “Thank you! I mean, um, Eddie thanks you.”
Dad gave your shoulders a quick squeeze; it was his version of you’re welcome. “Yeah, well.” He played it cool, keeping his tone breezy. “It’ll be good practice for when you take over the place.”
You’d nodded in response, your insides twisting in a clashing mix of excitement and shame. Eddie wouldn’t have to live on the street, but it required you to continue lying to your parents.
I’ll tell them the truth once Eddie finds a real job and gets his own place. I can only handle one crisis at a time.
That was how you’d found yourself spending your Tuesday evening with Eddie Munson. The motel was otherwise empty, save for your parents, a middle-aged trucker in room 7, and Phyllis in her usual digs.
You and Dad had spent the end of his shift covering the floor with giant flimsy drop cloths. They hadn’t been used in years, evidenced by the thin layer of dust that coated them when you’d dug them out from the back of the supply closet. You’d tried your best to shake it all off but instead sent yourself into a sneezing fit.
Eddie sauntered into the lobby at a quarter after ten. Gray sweatpants sagged at his waist, the drawstring noticeably missing from the elastic band, and his white cotton undershirt had a tan stain that spread across his left pec.
“Coffee,” he explained with a shrug, rolling a hair tie off of his wrist and pulling his curls into a messy bun at the nape of his neck. He looked at you blankly and waited for you to instruct him, but you had already dove into your schoolwork. “Um, is there a ladder? Tools?” He pursed his lips and scanned the room with indifference.
“Oh! Right, yeah.” You could have smacked yourself for not having everything set up for him. “We don’t have a ladder per se, but this step stool should work fine.” You pulled it out from behind the desk along with a scoring tool, a spray bottle filled with a vinegar and water solution, and a putty knife. “I also grabbed the clock radio from my room if you wanted to listen to some music. Might help pass the time.”
Eddie nodded, watching carefully as you switched the radio on and tuned the dial to a Top 40 station. He shook his head the moment the electric beat of Haddaway’s “What is Love” played through the tinny speakers.
“Absolutely not,” he said with a scoff, dropping the supplies right where he stood, footsteps heavy even with the cloth underneath him. Without another word, he spun the knob past the static until the sound of an electric guitar crackled through. He bobbed his head a few times, finding the rhythm. “This’ll do.”
“Not a Eurodance fan?”
His back was turned to you as he returned to the task at hand which left him unable to see the sarcastic smirk you sported. “Fuck no.” He stepped up on the tool and began cutting into the old wallpaper, puffing out an irritated laugh. “I can’t believe—scratch—you voluntarily—scratch—listen to that–scratch–shit.” His biceps flexed with each flick of the blade in a consistent rhythm.
Drumming your fingernails on the desk, you twirled your pen in your free hand as you reread your own handwriting. You’d stayed at the library and filled notebook pages with bullet points about early childhood development until a squirrely librarian kicked you out at closing time. The choppy sentence fragments begged to be fleshed out into a fully-formed essay, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus.
Write words. Make edits. Add a comma. Do something, anything, dammit.
Almost an hour passed without you making an iota of progress on your paper. The words swam on the page until they just looked like inky squiggles with no real meaning, your brain blank as if you’d never written anything in your life. Cool air tickled your nose as you exhaled through your lips. Why couldn’t you just concentrate?
“It’s this music,” you muttered to yourself, too low for your company to hear. Your temples throbbed with frustration, and you reached over and snapped back to the previous station.
Eddie’s head whipped around at the sudden change, frowning when he heard pop music instead of the metal that had just been playing. “Seriously?” He leaned one hand on the wall and threw the other up in exasperation.
“Yes, seriously,” you bit back, teeth clenched in annoyance. “I can’t focus on my writing with that on.”
Eddie grumbled something unintelligible but went back to work, the scratching serving as a strange backdrop to the song.
Janet Jackson faded out to a too-chipper deejay. “You folks know what time it is!” His voice reminded you of old-school toothpaste commercials, over-exaggerated and unnaturally polished. “That’s right; it’s time for Rad or Retch—where I play a song from a new artist, and you call in and let me know whether you think it’s rad or if it makes you wanna retch!”
Eddie rolled his eyes, adding an exasperated “Jesus H. Christ,” under his breath.
“This one’s called ‘Watch Me Leave’ by Death’s Echo, a grunge group from—”
The announcement came to an abrupt end as Eddie nearly leaped from the stool to the desk and yanked the plug out of its socket. The two-pronged head hit the floor with a soft thud.
“Hey!” Your eyes widened in confusion and then disbelief, flickering over to where he stood. You expected him to wear a scowl that matched your own; instead, he looked like he’d just taken a knife to the gut, and you took a step back. “Whoa, you okay?”
Eddie tensed the moment he detected your sympathetic tone, shoulders pinched and jaw rigid. “‘M fine.” He pressed the heel of his left hand atop his right knuckles until they cracked. “Sorry.” He bent down and gently plugged the cord back into the wall, but you immediately flicked the power button to the off-position.
It was silent for a full minute, save for the scorer against the wall and the scratch of pen on paper. When Eddie finally spoke, his voice was so soft that you barely heard it.
“That was my band.”
Confusion creased your brows. You set down your pen and stole a glance at him. His body remained facing the wall, but he was no longer working, hands lamely at his sides. “What?”
“Death’s Echo was, uh,” he shook a rogue curl from his eyes, “that was my band.”
“Oh.” Awkwardness seeped into the room and filled every crevice as you wracked your brain for a suitable response. “But…not anymore?”
Eddie clicked his tongue. “Nope.” The p sound popped softly as though signaling the discussion’s end, but there was a pregnant pause before he started removing the wallpaper again.
“Why not?” The question sprang from your tongue, curiosity getting the best of you.
A hesitant chuckle accompanied his sigh. “I thought you didn't make small talk with strangers.” He climbed back on the step stool and ripped off a strip of paper.
“I thought we weren’t strangers anymore,” you quipped back, not missing the smile that ghosted his lips.
“Fair enough.” Eddie conceded easily, not at all angry to be proven wrong. He bit the inside of his cheek and stared up at the yellow-tinged lighting overhead before slicing into the wallpaper. “Sometimes you think you want something, but it turns out to be a steaming pile of horseshit.” The last word was punctuated by a grunt, and the last panel of wallpaper fluttered to the ground. “That’s the music industry in a nutshell.”
You nodded in agreement despite an obvious lack of knowledge.
“They sign your band,” he continued, aiming the spray bottle nozzle at the wall and pulling the trigger, “and you think it’s because they like you. Or at least your music, your sound, whatever.” He wrinkled his nose as he got an unexpected whiff of the vinegar solution’s pungency. “But you’re really just a front for whatever they want to sell. Which, apparently, is grunge.”
You had too many questions. They probably referred to record producers or agents or some other bigwigs, you surmised, but what did they do that made Eddie so cynical?
That was far too loaded to ask, at least in that moment, so you opted for a more humorous follow-up. “You mean it wasn’t all sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll?” you joked, but Eddie didn’t share in your lightheartedness.
“At the beginning, when we first got signed, yeah.” His brown eyes exuded wistfulness, remembrance of better times. He blinked twice and snapped himself out of it. “We put out a few albums that didn’t completely flop, I guess. And we were the opening act on a couple of tours. Got a good chunk of money in the bank.”
That explained the Calvin Klein underwear he was wearing on that first night. You capped your pen and leaned in, trying not to be overly inquisitive but unable to contain yourself. “So…what happened?” What led you here?
“We get called into a meeting, and we’re all thinking that the label’s gonna tell us we’re headlining, right? Maybe not, like, The Garden, but bigger venues than we usually played. But, uh…” he trailed off and rubbed the tip of his nose with an open palm, “it was an ultimatum: shift from metal to grunge, or get dropped.”
You listened intently as Eddie relayed the ordeal. The label executives had cited the increasing popularity of Nirvana and Pearl Jam along with decreasing interest in heavy metal bands. “Cobain’s selling; Ozzy isn’t,” they’d explained. If Death’s Echo wanted to play to packed arenas and have their music on mainstream radio, they had to adapt to the times.
“I told them we weren’t sellouts and to kiss my ass,” Eddie said to you, huffing out an annoyed breath. “But the rest of the band didn’t give a shit about that; if those suits told them to jump, they’d say ‘how high.’ So, I quit and waited for them to come crawling back.”
He didn’t elaborate after that. He didn’t need to. Because if they’d done as Eddie had hoped, he wouldn’t be performing manual labor just to live in a struggling motel, basking in the gloominess that he wore like a second skin.
“If you could go back and do it differently, would you?” You grimaced at your own intrusiveness. “Sorry, that was—”
“It’s fine.” Eddie didn’t give an answer right away, his teeth grating against his lower lip. “Y’know, I’d like to say no, but losing your record deal, your apartment, your girlfriend, your so-called ‘friends,’ and every nice thing you own can make a guy kinda cynical.”
Girlfriend?
It was far from the most dire item on that list, but it needled at you. Maybe it was the mental image of Eddie watching everything get taken from him and then adding heartbreak on top of it all.
“How about you?”
His voice yanked you from your thoughts and had your heart in your throat. “Huh?”
“You. Your whole deal.” He gestured at you with the scraper. “Why you’re always doing homework like a little nerd.” You couldn't detect a note of taunting in his teasing, only playfulness, just as it had been that very first night.
You scowled for only a second before a smile broke through. “Don’t you have wallpaper to remove?”
Eddie snorted out a laugh. “I see how it is: when it’s my shit, I’m free to talk. But when it’s your shit, I’m a lowly employee.” He held up both hands in mock surrender. “My deepest apologies, Heiress.”
You didn’t bother to argue, choosing instead to pivot to a new subject altogether. “How long does this take, anyway?” Walking out from behind the desk to inspect his work, you ran your finger down the wall. Once you got past the stench of vinegar, he was actually doing a pretty good job.
“You think you could do better?” He saw your gentle ribbing and upped the ante, holding out the putty scraper as if saying, be my guest.
Plucking it from his grasp, you smirked and chose a spot right at eye level. Challenge accepted.
Though the glue had softened considerably, removing it still required decent muscle. You put your bodyweight into it and pushed through the resistance, but you only managed to pull off a little bit.
You heard Eddie laugh through his nose as he stood behind you, watching you struggle. “Harder than it looks, huh?” He ignored your middle finger and stepped a half-inch closer. “Let me help.”
One calloused hand dwarfed yours, his fingers wrapping around where your fist held the scraper. The other found purchase on the bicep of your free arm where your T-shirt’s cuff met skin, stabilizing without entrapping you. You could easily get out of his grasp if you wanted.
You stayed there.
He tightened his grip around yours and made short, downward strokes, admittedly taking off far more glue than you had. “There ya go,” he murmured. His breath was warm on your neck, gooseflesh rising when he spoke. You hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Just like that.”
Butterflies beat their wings in your stomach, a result of the unexpected proximity compounded by an unmet need for connection that starkly contrasted the night shift’s normal solitude. A loose tendril of his hair tickled against your ear, and the realization of how close your bodies actually were shattered whatever spell had been cast.
Eddie pulled away quickly, the air cooling where his hand once rested. Did he also feel that sudden loss of contact, or was it all in your head?
With a shaky breath, you stepped aside and silently returned the tool to him. “Should probably leave this to the expert,” you muttered, forcing nervous laughter. “I have to get back to writing anyway.”
His eyes bored into you as you walked back to the desk, but neither of you said another word. You glanced over at him every so often, noting the perspiration dampening his collar and under his arms as he toiled away at the glue and wished you had a water bottle to offer him.
Maybe next time.
You got halfway through the first body paragraph when Eddie spoke again.
“You’re really not gonna talk?”
You looked up to see him swipe his forearm along his brows as he shot you a tired grin.
“We just had a whole conversation,” you pointed out, returning your attention to your essay.
“About me,” he said. He wiped his palms on his pants, leaving behind a sweaty print, and traipsed over to you. “I mean, every time I see you, you’re either going to school or coming back from school or doing work for school…”
You shrugged, no big deal. “Okay, yeah, I go to school.”
“For what?”
Shit. “Hospitality and hotel management.”
“Really.” Eddie leaned over and snatched up your paper. You reached out to grab it back, but it was too late. The bridge of his nose scrunched as he read the opening paragraph to himself. “Doesn’t look like hospitality to me.” Amusement raised his brows. “Care to explain?”
It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you felt strangely obligated. He’d confided in you, so you should at least moderately indulge him.
“Fine,” you relented, “I’m studying psychology.” That might have been the first time you’d ever said those words aloud in the motel lobby; it was oddly freeing.
Eddie nodded and continued to scan the paper. “You wanna be a shrink?”
“Social worker.”
He let out a low whistle. “That’s a tough gig. Especially if you’re working with kids.” He shook the essay pages for emphasis.
“Yeah. I know.”
“Right.” He shoved one hand in his pants pocket. “What made you decide to be a social worker?”
You breathed out a laugh. “You want the easy answer or the real one?”
He didn’t hesitate before answering. “Real one. Always.” He returned your essay and rested his un-pocketed hand on the desk. Inquiring eyes beckoned you to continue.
With less trepidation than you’d anticipated, you tell him the story of that fateful day in the summer of 1987, just two years after you’d graduated from high school.
You were still working the afternoon shift, and summer break brought its usual influx of guests. People came and went in blurs of luggage, but there was one particular patron who had made her presence known.
“Hi!”
You peered over the desk to find the source of the lively greeting. A young girl, no older than five, stared back at you, syrupy grape stickiness surrounding her lips. The cause was most likely a popsicle, as evidenced by the purple stained stick clenched in her right hand.
“Um, hi,” you said with a smile that was, for the first time in a long while, not encased in customer service insincerity. “What’s your name?” And where did you come from?
Unfazed by your bewilderment, she introduced herself as Izzy and asked you if you wanted to play. “We just have to stay here, or else my mommy will get mad,” she explained with urgency.
You nodded slowly, sorting through the information without raising any alarm. “And where is your mommy?”
Izzy’s hazel eyes darted back towards the hallway. “In our room. She’s with a friend so I can’t go in.” She dropped her voice to what she considered a whisper, but it was still clear as day. “Her friend is a boy.”
Your stomach turned. Of course. Instead of watching her child, this mother was probably shooting up with her boyfriend of the week.
“I can’t play right now, but you can sit here with me until your mommy and her friend come back out,” you said. “I have paper and pens if you wanna draw.”
This satisfied her, and she plopped down on the floor and patted the spot next to her. That day hadn’t been particularly hectic, so you obliged and sat.
“What’re you gonna draw?” Izzy asked, reaching for a blue pen. You didn’t have time to answer before she proudly announced, “I’m gonna draw a flower. Do you like flowers?”
“Mhm.”
Izzy smiled as she surrounded a circle with swirling loops. “You can draw a flower, too. Maybe a rose. Or a sunflower!”
Her excitement at the latter option was all you needed. “Sunflower it is, Miss Izzy.” You drew a circle of your own and filled it with a cross-hatched pattern, curating pointed-tipped petals around it.
“D’you have crayons?” she asked, not looking up from her own flower.
You put down your pen and offered a pitying frown. “No, I’m sorry.”
“S’okay. You should get some, though. ‘Cause you can draw prettier flowers with crayons.”
The two of you stayed on the floor for ten minutes. All the while, she quizzed you on your favorite color, animal, food, and TV show. She was halfway through a heated explanation of why Friend Bear was superior to Share Bear when a frantic voice called out her name.
“Mommy!” Izzy practically flew into her mother’s arms. You watched as the woman’s entire body sagged in relief, pulling her daughter in close. A man trailed behind her, discreetly zipping up his fly and walking out the front door.
“Izzy, I told you to sit in the hall and eat your ice pop,” her mom gently scolded, words muffled by her lips being pressed to Izzy’s scalp.
Izzy scrunched her nose in confusion. “But I finished it.” She pointed at the empty stick, now on the ground where she’d been sitting, as proof. In true childlike fashion, she jumped to a new topic without waiting for the first conversation to conclude. “Mommy, you wanna see what I drawed?”
“Of course, baby.” She easily feigned excitement as Izzy presented her with a series of scribbles that were meant to be various flowers, people, and farm animals. “Wow! I think you’re gonna be an artist one day.”
The little girl continued chatting, blissfully unaware of the panic she’d inadvertently caused. Her mom allowed herself to look away for just a moment to glance at you, mouthing a tiny “thank you” and blinking her tear-filled eyes.
“And…I don’t know,” you lamely supplied as you wrapped up the story. “I guess I realized that I had all of these assumptions, this sort of preconceived notion that this woman was a deadbeat parent, but she obviously loved Izzy more than anything.” You picked at your thumbnail nervously. “No one should have to sell their body for money just to survive. She deserved better than that.”
Eddie stayed quiet for a moment, absorbing everything you’d thrown at him. “And you wanted to help her,” he finally said.
“Yeah.” You thought back to the way her gaze simultaneously held gratitude and guilt. Her daughter was safe, but she knew that this was not the final time she’d be in this predicament.
The experience had awakened a realization in you: working at the motel was never your dream, but it kept a roof over your head and food in your belly. You weren’t left to navigate the world on your own. Independence was a privilege, not a mandate.
“For what it’s worth,” Eddie broke in, “I think you’ll be a great social worker someday.” He rapped his knuckles on the desk twice and slipped back to the awaiting task; despite insisting that you talked to him while he worked, he hadn’t touched any of the tools while you spoke.
Your smile was a thank you, and you tuned the radio back to the metal station Eddie had chosen earlier. He didn’t say anything else, but you noted the subtle tap of his toe against the drop cloth.
Eddie worked for a few more hours until he’d stripped the wall of all paper and glue. “All right,” he said, balancing the step stool on two fingers. Sleepiness softened his own smile, all lips and no teeth. “Let me know when the new wallpaper comes in. You, uh, know where I live.”
“Will do.” Your thumb absently grazed against the words you’d just written, smudging them. You rubbed at the black ink seeping into your skin, silently chastising your own carelessness. “Good night, Eddie.”
He stretched and scratched at the U-neck of his collar, exposing a sliver of chest hair.
“Sweet dreams, Heiress.”
--
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˗ˋˏ CRAWL ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only
SYNOPSIS: If there is anything about the Devil, it’s that he always keeps his promises. The problem is, he’s mad that you seemed to have forgotten his promise. Crawling for the Devil is the least of your problems.
PAIRING: devil!yjh x reader (afab)
GENRE: fantasy | smut, pwp
TAGS: featuring: sub!ksy, artist!xmh, housemate!jww | auditory voyeurism, pegging (m receiving), fingering, hickies, face sitting, oral + face fucking (m receiving), tail play, degradation, crawling, spanking, swallowing, toys, manhandling, pnv
WC: 5.2k
A/N: hello! currently working on my thesis so writing this was a way to blow off steam. I also wasn't going to write another devil!jeonghan fic so thank you to @whenyourenothere for convincing me! this can be read as a standalone fic or a part two of red horn. special s/o to @junkissed for helping me figure out the tags for this fic bc there's a lot <33 - nu ♡ | tagging: @jjeongddol
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It is a rusty metallic foldable chair that you sit on that squeaks and creaks even with the slightest movement. You try to readjust your posture — definitely not sure if you should sit up straight with your back against the dusty chair or with your hands folded neatly on the edge of the devil’s table in front of you. In fact, you’re not sure whether or not you are supposed to touch the devil’s office desk, so you choose to lead with the prior option. And the metal chair reacts, drawing out a long and uncomfortable creeeeak as you shift your weight backward.
Maybe you were just lucky last time, led by the Devil to believe that maybe you were worthy of being somebody special in this vast world. In this underworld where the universe’s menagerie of creatures visit with last hopes of finding a solution, you are finally coming to a conclusion that you’re only but a speck of dust in a world that knows no bounds.
The small office room feels humid and stuffy; its previously supposedly beige wallpapers are now a darker shade of brown that peels in large patches to reveal dirty and white painted-over bricks. Splotches of mold line the edges of the patches, and you find yourself wishing that mold spores aren’t a thing that exists in Hell. But it’s Hell, and anybody who dealt with mold before knows that the process of treating mold is basically hell. The navy colored carpet looks old and worn out. Several flat and black pieces of gum stick to it, already dried and surprisingly shiny in color.
On the desk and pushed to the corner is an old and vintage PC, the kind with the square monitors and the back that protrudes outwards. You can feel the heat from the computer console blow against your skin and leave a faint burnt metallic scent in its wake. Not sure what to do or if you’re supposed to do anything, you sit in silence as the devil behind the computer screen slowly types and moves his mouse on top of his mousepad to fill out the information he has in the giant manilla folder spread out in front of him.
You retract your lips inwards and bite the gummy and smooth underside of your lips while you stare at the stack of business cards pointed toward you. Craig. His name is Craig with no last name. Demon. So you’re wrong. He’s neither a devil nor is he the Devil with a capital “D” whom you were previously introduced to. He’s just office worker Craig, the demon you were assigned today.
“Do you think it’s too stuffy in here?” He asks you while lifting his mouse from the mousepad before setting it back down to readjust the roller ball underneath. Not once does he turn to look at you or make eye contact with you.
“A little,” you reply feeling awkward and a bit burdened by the question for almost no reason at all.
He nods his head while tracing his long and crooked finger against a line on the stack of papers in front of him before typing in the data in his computer. He sniffs and snorts his phlegm while clearing his throat. It was just small talk; there is no way an office worker in Hell would care about your wellbeing. You find yourself wondering if central cooling is a thing in Hell while trying to peek at the contents of your surprisingly large folder with no avail.
This room, this office worker, this situation…none of this is the same as the beautiful and luxurious office space you imagined stepping in for the second time. Long gone is the plush gray Persian rug and the mahogany desk that belongs to the owner himself. And your large file that is spread out before the demon you’re assigned, you cannot help but think about the event or even events that could have possibly added to the flimsy pieces of paper the Devil flipped through when he first met you. And the thought of Craig reading your file only causes your face to heat up in embarrassment.
“Um.” You force yourself to break the awkward silence. “May I use the restroom before we start? You still haven’t asked me what I’m here for, and I think I accidentally came under the assumption that I would be assigned to the same person. I’ll be quick in case you need me immediately.”
“Down the hall,” the demon mumbles while hunching his back to allow himself to squint closely at the screen in front of him.
Picking yourself up from your seat, you basically fling yourself out of the office while thinking about the fresh air that awaits you in the hallway. No thoughts about the demon nor suspicions regarding the fact that the demon didn’t really point you towards a particular route to the restroom floated in your mind. Coming here was a mistake, and you are willing to face any repercussions for walking out of a meeting with a demon if it means having to save yourself from the embarrassment of having that demon read your file regarding your previous request with the Devil.
However, what awaits you on the other side of the door isn’t the hallway from which you entered the office you were in. Instead, you find yourself in an oddly familiar bedroom. Light navy blue floor-length curtains cover the window with their original pleats from when it was first purchased about a year ago still intact. Pushed against the window is the full-sized bed with the orange-stained wooden headboard and the mess of frost blue blankets haphazardly strewn on the mattress. The soft and rotund tiger plush lays threateningly close to the edge of the bed, able to be toppled over even with the slightest movement on the mattress.
The owner of this bedroom is in the middle of it all. Kwon Soonyoung kneels on his bed with his legs spread and his ass up. He already looks so fucked out. His left cheek is pressed against his mattress while he looks back at you with his hands tied behind his back. The position he’s in doesn’t seem comfortable at all, but his expressions, demeanor, and soft whimpers coming out of his mouth digress.
“Please,” he practically begs you from his pitiful position. You can see how his lean thighs tremble while he struggles against his restraints. He wails with such desperation, “I want it. I want it so badly,” so much that it almost sounds as if he is going to cry from your lack of action.
You don’t realize it until now, but an object manifests itself in your hands. A thick and ribbed silicone dildo, one that you’re too familiar with, is being stroked by you unconsciously. You feel the girth of it and how the lube it’s coated with prepares the toy for insertion.
Then comes the teasing. You find the words naturally flowing out of your mouth: “Conciseness in your language, Soonie. What is it that you want?”
But the thing is, you know what comes next. You know what his response is as you slowly make your way over to him.
“Peg me. I’m ready,” he gasps while a tiny translucent pearl gathers at the tip of his dangling cock. “Blow my back out.”
You already know exactly how many times you will yourself to slap his ass to prep him before his legs give in. You already know how lewdly he would gasp as you insert the tip of the toy, how he would bury his face in his blankets as he moans out loud. You find yourself repeating actions as if being controlled by a machine, yet you don’t hate it. You’re magically stuck in a limbo between reality and déjà vu, presently recreating the past.
You feel his walls sucking in the toy, taking it in so well. Like a special switch in an escape room, once you grab onto his aching cock to stroke him while you peg him, the scene immediately switches.
Naked and in the middle of a studio apartment that reeks of paint fumes and essential oils, you look at yourself through the standing mirror in front of you. Despite the fan blowing in the background and the apartment windows propped open, you don’t feel cold at all. Instead, your skin pricks with heat as the sensation of arousal gathers itself at your core and spreads to the tips of your fingers. Beneath you is a mop of platinum blonde hair of the artist who sits by your feet.
Xu Minghao gently grabs you by the waist so that he can angle you so that you can get a better view of his artwork on your body. You remember that with him, you always felt safe and appreciated. He traces his slender finger along the length of your thigh, bringing it up to your ass. He makes you feel valuable through your soreness, the entirety of your right ass cheek covered in his carefully placed hickies. Your pussy throbs with eagerness, waiting to be filled before all of the juices run dry.
“My work of art,” he mumbles before he brings his lips to your ass cheek. In the open space where the bruises connect, he bites it with his teeth and swirls the flesh in between his teeth with his tongue. His left hand makes its way to your opening, thumbing the smooth nub that immediately makes your knees buckle. So he positions himself behind you, strongly wrapping his long right arm around your legs to keep you steady as he nips and sucks while he takes your time to circle your clit before he finally slips his finger in your core as if the action is like second nature to him.
Pleasure builds in your soul and makes your body scream with pleasure as Minghao meticulously massages your inner walls, stroking and tapping your spongy insides as you writhe in his arm. He adds another finger, filling you up and building your high, scissoring you while you moan his name as your liquid drips down his fingers and collects in his palm.
“Done,” he breathes as he shifts his body so that he sits between your open legs. You can feel how his warm breath hits your skin as he speaks with his lips nearly on your cunt, “Flower on your ass. Sweet and puffy rose sitting on my face.”
Before you can re-experience all of what it felt like to sit on Minghao’s face like a chair, you find yourself in another room. This time, you’re in your own place in the room next to yours. From the placement of the desk to how the bed is pushed against the corner of the room, flush against the wall, the layout of this room directly mirrors your own. There are a lot more notecard art prints taped to the wall than you last remembered. The LED lights built into his mechanical keyboard softly pulses as it switches colors. And there is the all too familiar smell of his laundry detergent and dryer sheets that fills his room — he had just unloaded his laundry from the dryer, but didn’t have time to fold his clothes as they still sit in the laundry basket placed in front of his closet.
You’re not sure if you’re allowed to be here at all. It’s not often that you find yourself in Jeon Wonwoo’s bedroom, but when you do, you’re usually near the threshold of his door. And to be sitting on his plush gray sheets, you think it feels too intrusive. Still, you’re not sure if you should move from your comfortable position despite the fact that you’re not close enough to him to enter his bedroom just to chill without him present. And the worst of all, you’re pretty sure you’re still soaked from your previous encounter with Minghao. And that you’re still definitely in hell because there is no way you would ever allow yourself to feel this close to coming on Wonwoo’s bedsheets without his permission.
Two soft knocks on the door diverts your attention to the closed door.
“Yn,” Wonwoo's deep and tender voice calls your name from the other side of the door. “Is everything okay? I’m coming in.”
The thing is, this occurrence with Wonwoo had never happened before. You’re stuck in a scenario far different from the other two. So, you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are when you saw him walk through his bedroom door. Instead of the tall and built housemate that you sometimes find yourself secretly fawning over, is the sinister yet charming man you haven’t seen in ages.
Yoon Jeonghan steps into your housemate’s bedroom with the irresistible charm of his while flaunting an oversized black t-shirt whose sleeves almost touch his elbows. The Devil is here, and he knows everything that you’ve been hiding from him.
He slams the door behind him and takes long and fast paced strides toward the bed until his figure towers over you. And the Devil himself smirks as he purposely leans down until his bangs dangle in front of his forehead and your entire upper body is pressed against Wonwoo’s sheets. His right hand presses into the space next to your left shoulder as he looks down at you with a pitiful look on his face.
“What?” He almost scoffs at you in his beautiful light and airy voice. “You didn’t once stop to think that maybe all of this was my doing? That you would relive your memories with who was it? Kwon Soonyoung and Xu Minghao? You’re more fucking stupid than I remembered. Were you fucked too hard by Seungcheol that you lost a few braincells? Or was it with Joshua when you accidentally hit your head too many times against the inside of his car door?”
He cocks his head to the side as he grabs your chin with his left hand. Cold to the touch, this miniscule action has you struggling to catch your breath. He tilts your head left and right as if to carefully inspect what is his.
“My pet,” he coos while letting go of your chin. Where his cool fingertips touched your skin now pricks with burning heat. And he takes his time to kneel on the bed while still hovering over your body. “This is the bedroom of the guy you get off to? You don’t think I know about how often you touch yourself while he fucks the people he brings over to this bedroom? And now you’re horny again? You want to fuck on the bed of the guy you want so deep in your gut?”
As stupid as you are, you find yourself shell shocked and in awe at the Devil on top of you so much that you unconsciously nod in agreement to every single humiliatingly detailed sentence that comes out of his mouth. The topic isn’t about Jeonghan and you, but the sexual tension established between the two of you knocks on your pussy and makes your mouth go dry. Fuck, maybe he is right. Fucking other men over the span of time since you last saw Jeonghan could never amount to what you felt when you were fucked by the Devil. Lost in your delusions, you could only get off to what you couldn’t have. And when the world’s most untouchable creature is currently so close to you that the collar of his black tee hangs so low that you can peek through the hole to see the expanse of his lean body, the warning signals your brain is desperately trying to send you are unfortunately dispelled by the eagerness of wanting to take a second dip.
“How much do you want me?”
“Enough,” you reply while staring straight into his eyes.
He wastes no time by pulling out his cock from his sweats as you sit up from your previous position. Cold and hard are the two adjectives you can use to describe the feeling of him tracing his cock along your open lips. But he won’t let you touch him. He won’t let you kiss him. He lets you starve as your eyes flitter between his cock on your mouth and his deceivingly beautiful face as he pumps his cock. And he taps his member on your lips, telling you to open your mouth wider. And you can feel him slip himself through the hole you made, how the veins on the underside feel against the smooth and warm inner part of your lips. You’re hungry. Starving. Basically wishing that he’ll let you close your mouth around him and suck him to the point you’re reminded that he had no soul to begin with.
So when he commands you to suck, you do as he says. You lick the tip, wetting and coating it with your saliva. Swirling your tongue around the length, you warm up the member in your mouth as more of his salty taste coats your tongue. Then you close your lips around him in a perfect “O” while shifting yourself on your knees so you can take him better.
You suck, hollowing your cheeks while gliding your mouth along his length. God, how you bend so easily for him. Your eyelids flutter as you continue to take him along his curved length. And moan while your mouth is plugged, a muffled moan of ecstasy when you feel him twitch while sandwiched between your lips. To make matters worse, whenever you look up at him as you edge yourself to take him in further, you see that he looks perfectly composed.
“Wider, slut,” he tells you while pumping what you can’t take. His hand is on your jaw again, and he squeezes your jaw between his long fingers so that it stays open. Your pool of saliva escapes the corners of your lips and trails along your chin before it drops on Wonwoo’s sheets. And he fucks himself in your mouth by manually moving your head along his length, barely giving you enough time to flatten your tongue against the whole of his length. He pushes his length into your mouth and groans when you gag.
He fucks your mouth to find satisfaction and get off on your uncomfortableness, watching you moan while struggling to keep up with his pace. His hand leaves your jaw and attaches itself to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of hair as he uses it to swing your head back and forth like the ping pong ball attached to a paddle toy. The two of you know that the rate in which he fucks your mouth is too much for you, yet you find pleasure in being used by the higher being while he fucks your mouth to the sounds of you struggling against his cock and the wet smack of your lips when you spit him out after he comes. You swallow what you have and hurriedly wipe the liquid white off your chin and lips. You watch him tearfully as he finishes with his cock in his hand and his seed on the bedsheets and your thighs.
“I- I’m sorry,” you stutter as his angry red length bounces in front of your teary eyes. You want to lean in again to put him between your lips before he can punish you. You want him to call you names and make you feel bad about yourself. You want him to pump himself while he looks at you attacking the slit on his tip like how you want him to eat you out. You want to swirl your tongue around the spongy smooth surface before using the tip of your tongue to dig into the area in which his precum emits.
Your thighs rub together to ease the unsatisfied throb of your core. You need stimulation from him in any way. Just a kiss. A touch. Anything from Jeonghan would probably edge you to completion, but he doesn’t want to help you. And you don’t want to give up this opportunity with him.
“I’m s-sorry Jeonghan. Jeonghan, I’m sorry. Please…,” you plead as you watch him look down on you with a face of disappointment. You want to physically reach out to him to tell him you’ll do better, to tell him to give you another chance. But you see him take a few steps backwards and you’re sent into a state of frenzied lust and panic. You’ve never been so desperate to please, to complete a request from a man. You’re so deluded by the Devil that it feels as if your entire world will end if you don't please him or hold yourself up to his standards.
Gone is the man who called you his Angel the first time he met you. In front of you is the Devil who willfully draws you in, who has you stumbling off of your housemate’s bed just so that you can crawl your way over to him in your blissful haze. The more Yoon Jeonghan steps backwards, the more your vision tunnels on his body as you crawl across the bedroom floor, not caring about how uncomfortable the hardwood floor is underneath your palms and your knees.
When you come to your senses, you realize that it’s a different kind of hardwood underneath your body. Your naked body is displayed on all fours on Jeonghan’s large mahogany office desk like an object on display. You don’t even remember if you had your clothes on in the first place. But it feels as if the Devil suddenly wanted to bring one of the several trinkets he has displayed along his office wall to play with at his desk. You were confident that you could show him how much you’ve changed since you last saw him. Yet he has a way of proving how wrong you are. You’re no match for the Devil, and he intends to keep it that way. And in a way, to be displayed in front of him, it makes you feel as if you’re one of his prized possessions.
Your eyes watch him as he circles around his desk while he looks you up and down. He’s no longer in his t-shirt and sweats, but in a classic white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a pair of black tailored slacks. Golden and thin-wired circular glasses sit on the bridge of his nose. Protruding from the top of his head are his red horns. And this time, the long and forked tail that he previously kept hidden swishes behind his back. He brings the length of his long tail up to his left hand before tightly coiling it around the palm of his right hand like a long red rope. And one look from him through his glasses, a satisfying smirk and an arched brow, you know that you’re done for.
He takes the tip of his tail and traces it along your naked body, causing your body to jolt and shudder in response. He uses it like a teacher’s pointing stick, the tip running smoothly along the curvature of your body. He’s purposely toying with you, watching you try not to squirm every time he traces his tail anywhere near your glistening cunt.
“Do you think it’s too stuffy in here?” He jests while planting himself at the edge of his desk behind your ass. It hits you that you heard this question before, and only now do you realize that the Devil has been playing with you all along. You feel him trace his tail along your cunt, letting a prong trace along your folds as if it were his finger.
“Fuck!” you gasp out loud. “That was you?”
You feel the stinging pain on your ass after you hear the crisp slap ring into the air. Your stomach tightens as your pussy clenches in response.
“Shut the fuck up Yn,” he grunts. “Cumsluts can’t talk.”
You moan when you feel his tail go underneath a fold, causing your thighs to go weak. But he pulls his tail away from your core to tap it against your outer thigh. Hold yourself up, the action seems to say. So you gather your strength to maintain your position, ignoring the soreness in your knees and the fact that he’s been with you ever since you stepped into “Craig’s” office. When you spread your thighs, your sensitive cunt opens up like a flower in bloom, warm and wet against the stale office air. Jeonghan doesn’t ravish its beauty like how Minghao often does. He doesn’t want to.
Although your forearms are tired and your thighs burn from exhaustion, your pussy pulsates like it’s its own living entity — full of life and eager to be filled. Right now, only Jeonghan can grant these conditions. And you’re willing to wait even if your horniness drives you mad.
He firmly grabs your ass, angling it so that your glistening pussy is in full view.
“From this point on, I’m going to make you scream my name like a requiem made for angels.” He forcefully pulls your ass back so that it’s pressed against his stomach while he leans over your figure so that his mouth is near your left ear. “I’ll ruin you if you try to crawl away. But I’d like to see you try.”
You’re pretty sure you already soaked his shirt in the place where your core was pressed against the fabric. It amazes you how he easily flips your body so that you’re laying flat on his desk with your legs propped up against the wood. Any further back, you would be in a mating press.
You wonder if he can read your mind, how much you want to ride him up and down his length and for him to coat you so much that you’re left with soft and silken skin. Even if he tied your hands behind your back, you would still go on your knees to unbuckle his belt with your teeth.
He’s been sensing your urgency since you summoned him. Looking at your sopping cunt and dragging the tip of his tail along your clit, he decides to ease the heat in your stomach by slowly pushing his tail into your core. You moan in response as you slowly adjust to its size, feeling everything from the way it fills your walls to the way it is as smooth as a glass dildo. You shudder at the way he pulls it out of you for a mere second before pushing it back into you, causing your stomach to twitch and your thighs to close around his hand.
He leaves his tail in you while he pries your thigh apart.
“What’s the use in thinking about mounting my cock if you can’t even keep your legs open? What’s an ego if you can’t even embody it correctly?” he mocks you before bringing down the hand that once held his tail against your heat. The impact feels as hot as the way your arousal burns. You cry out in elated pleasure; one convulsion is enough to push the tail halfway out of you. “Useless excuse of a human,” he laughs at you before grunting as he pushes his tail back inside, twisting it as he plunges it in and out of you. “You’re all talk, yet you bend at the thought of me.”
Cock-deprived, you clench around his tail as you gasp for air. Your pussy sucks the tail in and refuses to let go, making you mewl for Jeonghan to fuck you hard while he thrusts his tail in and out of you. “Nn-nh. Jeonghan! Ah- Yes. Yes. Fuck me. Use me.” You squeal and moan out loud as your high builds at an incredible speed. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your back arches off the desk and you feel as if you’re levitating. “I’m gonna come.”
“Come.”
You cream at his command, coating his instrument in a thick and white sheen. Your stomach folds inwards as you whimper from the pleasure. He pulls his tail out of you while coaxing more out of you by lightly tapping your nub as you convulse. Overstimulated, you come another time, babbling his name and telling him how good you feel as you squirt against his slender fingers.
“Look at you,” he coos. “You made a mess on my table only from my tail. What’s going to happen when you take my cock? You’ve already folded yourself into a fucking fetal positon, Yn.”
You can feel your liquid drip from your pussy to your ass before it pools on the table underneath you. You feel so relieved and relaxed from your high, but there is still this insatiable need for the Devil to fuck you.
When he does, his cock fills you and squeezes you dry. His head rubs against the top of your walls while his veins work like a ribbed toy — adding more pleasure than you have ever experienced. Fingers digging into your thighs, he pulls out and slams back into you, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. You want to scream out his name as you clench around his length, sucking him in and never wanting to let go. But the image in front of you is a sight to behold, leaving you breathless as you watch it unfold.
You watch him through your half-lidded eyes, the scene of him as he throws his head back. You can see the way he swallows your cum that coats the tail he sucks in his mouth, how his Adam’s apple bobs when the liquid travels down his throat. You’re nothing but an instrument for his pleasure, and he sure knows how to show it.
He bucks his length into you so that it kisses the deepest parts of you, causing you to gasp and quake in your stomach. And he keeps it there with his legs pressed against your ass and the underside of your thighs. Slowly grinding against you, he revels in how you choke from the size of him and how you clench and unclench as if you’re struggling to hold on.
He pops the tail out of his mouth, a long string of saliva like a web between the tip of his prong and his tongue. He looks like a character from a lewd illustration, so beautiful yet so deadly. And you find yourself into another dimension as he thrusts further into you, grunting as he watches you scream for him.
“Fuck!,” you scream as you squeeze your eyes shut. “You’re going to tear me apart.”
“Gonna,” he grunts between every thrust, increasing his pace with every word. “Make. You. Feel. Everything.”
Your entire body trembles with pleasure, your breathing erratic. He continues to thrust into you, talking with his sweet tongue about how your slick and puffy pussy drives him insane.
“There’s nobody in this world who can fuck like I do,” he reminds you. “Now squeeze me hard as I cum in you. We’re going to be making a new type of liquid.”
Copyright © 2023 Himbocoups. All rights reserved.
#svthub#seventeen imagines#svt imagines#seventeen smut#svt smut#jeonghan smut#yoon jeonghan smut#jeonghan x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen fic#seventeen scenarios#✏️ ━ himbocoups
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⸻ 𓏵 𝓲 can hear you 𓈒 𓈒
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓈒⠀⠀𓏸 𝓛HS
𝓬ontains . masturbating, sucking, edging, handcuffs, intense imagination ++
𝓰enre . smut
𝓹airings . bestfriend!heeseung x female!reader
req status . open !!
word count: 1.1k
note . reminder everything here is FICTIONAL, meaning NOTHING HERE IS REAL!! these things never happened. | lia if ur seeing this literally do not read this.
MINORS DNI
©️ shypen 2024 do not copy, plagiarize or repost
“i forgot my wallet at the party, see you,” heeseung sighs, grabbing his jacket and walking out the door.
the party?
yeah, the party you and heeseung went to one hour ago. you couldn’t forget that. goodness, he looked so fine. you weren’t even paying the slightest attention to your friends when all you could do was stare at him from afar.
but whatever—all that matters now is that you’re alone. in your dorm, alone.
you make your way toward your room, a smile forming on your face as the door creaks open. you shut the door closed, hurriedly grabbing your laptop and carelessly throwing it on the bed. was this wrong? maybe. but you can’t help it.
laying down on the plush pillows of your bed, you grab your laptop and open it. your wallpaper? a photo of heeseung. almost immediately, you close your legs. this is wrong—he’s your roommate, but.. you can’t really help it.
contrary to your leg’s current position, you spread them open. you take off your shorts, and you see your wetness already visible through your panties. you set your panties aside, and you let your imagination go wild again.
imagine.
heeseung eating you out—it’s been in your head ever since you kept stealing glimpses at him back at the party. you’ve done this many times before—touching yourself as you imagine the things heeseung could do to you. today, your gonna let yourself absolutely relax. the party is 30 minutes away, he’ll take about an hour and a half ‘til he gets back to the dorm. just enough time.
snap.
“s-shoot—” you stammer as you touch yourself, rubbing your clit. “heeseung—”
imagine.
“s-shoot— heeseung—” you moan out, and heeseung takes his tongue out of you to look up at you. “too much baby?” he scoffs, diving back in, slipping his tongue into you, causing you to let out a gasp followed by a small whimper. if only this was real.
snap.
instead of his tongue, your finger slips inside you, causing you to let out that gasp from your imagination. speaking of imagination..
imagine.
“say my name again, baby. let me hear how good im making you feel,” heeseung groans, and you can feel his warm breath on your hungry clit. “heeseung—” you whimper, and heeseung lets out a moan at the sound of his name slipping out of your mouth. “good girl… let’s give you a reward, huh?” he says, before you could respond, two of his fingers slip inside of you, causing you to flinch, the handcuffs around your wrists rattle at the sudden movement.
“h-heeseung—” you try to protest but you interrupt yourself with moans and whimpers, and he smiles, satisfied. as he pumps the two fingers in you, he starts to get closer before licking your slit, teasing you slightly before placing his tongue inside you, his fingers and his tongue simultaneously working together to try to get you to reach your breaking limit. in this fake universe, you two have done this many times, heeseung knows your body well, knowing all your g-spots and everything you like. heeseung grabs your thigh with his free hand to keep you steady on the bed as he continues to eat you out. he curls his fingers up to your g-spot and you moan loudly.
you can feel your climax building up already. “h-heeseung— i’m c-close..” you warn him and he slips out his fingers from you, pulling his face away too. you whine at the sudden emptiness and he just smiles.
“ah ah! you have to wait, baby..” he teases.
that nickname. that nickname always gets you.
suddenly he removes his belt, quickly taking off his jeans and underwear, revealing his long, already hard cock. precum is already visible, and you bite your lip at the sight.
“like what you see?” he smiles, getting back on the bed and positioning his cock by your entrance. without warning, he slips inside you, not giving you any time to adjust, he pumps in and out of you slowly, making you let out a moan.
“h—heeseung— m-mmfg-” you whine, and you feel his cock twitch inside you hearing you say his name so desperately again. he picks up the pace, hitting your g-spot everytime. his hips, his.. his hips that make your head spin everytime you two do this. goodness, he’s good.
he grabs your thighs for support as he speeds up, causing you to yelp and bite your lip. “baby..” heeseung sighs between his pants. “dont hold back your sounds.. let me hear you..”
you didnt have to hear that twice. you stop biting your lip and as expected—you let out a whimper the moment you stop, causing heeseung to let out a low chuckle.
he speeds up again, this time going full speed without warning, and slapping sounds echoes in the room, including you and heeseung’s pants and moans.
“sh-shoot, baby.. you’re so tight,” he groans as he picks up the pace, throwing his head back. you cant keep your sounds in, and you moan his name like its the only word you know. your eyes roll back. “t-too much.. a-about to..”
“cum for me baby,” heeseung cuts you off. the knot in your stomach builds up before finally snapping, and you two cum together. he slips out of you, spreading your legs to see your cum and his flood out of you, and he licks his lips at the sight.
snap.
you moan his name, crazy you’re feeling this way over just touching yourself, but you wouldn’t’ve came if it weren’t for your imagination.
huh? what’s that noise?
“i’m home,” heeseung sighs as he sets his jacket down on the stand, silently walking to his bedroom to start getting ready for bed. after all—its late.
shutting the door, he decides to change into his pajamas. he takes off his pants, then his underwear—
oh wait?
“what’s y/n up to.. i hear noises in her room.”
he presses his ear against the wall to hear you more clearly.
oh shoot.
hearing you moan his name makes something in him snap, almost immediately knowing what you’re doing. “so you do that too, huh?”
he leans against the wall as he continues to eavesdrop on you.
“shoot..”
he sighs under his breath as he hears you, his hand lowering to his cock, rubbing it slowly. he groans silently, speeding up slightly.
“y/n..”
he smirks, picking up the pace on his cock, making him throw his head back in pleasure, and his head hits the wall.
“what’re you doing to me.. mmfgh—” he moans, opening his eyes and seeing precum leak out of him.
“i can hear you, you know?” he whispers, making sure you don’t hear him as he continues to pleasure himself.
“why don’t i walk in there and fulfill what your dirty little mind is thinking of, huh?”
note . first smut. time to go hide in a bush. ty for reading btw !! i appreciate it <33 this took longer than it shouldve so i appreciate ur attention !!
𝓽aglist . @llvrhee , @isa942572 , @siyusiee
haii if u like this plz reblog / like ♡ i’ll make a pt.2 at 100 notes !!
#kpop#kpopidol#heeseung#heeseung fanfictions#enhypen#enhypen heeseung#heeseung enhypen#enhypen heeseung fanfictions#enhypen imagines#enhypen fic#enhypen fics#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen heeseung fanfiction#enhypen heeseung fic#heeseung fanfiction#heeseung fanfic#heeseung fic#heeseung ff#heeseung ffs#heeseung fics#heeseung fanfics#heeseung smut#enhypen smut
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My good looking boy ! — Lee Heeseung
pairing: bf!hee x fem!reader — genre: fluff, est. relationship, college au, Drabble — Synopsis: ice cream date with your long-time boyfriend Heeseung. Leads to daydreaming on how the story begun. — Featuring: Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon
word count: 1k (1010)
warnings: pecks, light swearing, pet names
@bywons’s event!
Masterlist
Heeseung holds your hand tightly, not wanting to let go of your hand.
“C’mon! We should totally visit the new ice cream shop” he pleaded, how could you say no to this man? In fact you can’t, with some exceptions of course.
“Fine, we can’t be out too late anyways” you said staring right at him before he pecks your lips, he drags you towards the entrance of the ice cream shop. Upon arrival you’re met with the sight of many flavors, shocked at the many choices laid right in front of you.
Heeseung leads you to a table, he pulls out the chair, taking a seat he says, “I’ll order for the both of us.” You nodded your head as you watched him walk away. Admiring him from afar, the story of how you met wasn’t like any other.
It started as any normal day, classes went well, just your usual routine. A part of that routine was heading to the library, usually studying the material you learned that day. Or for any upcoming test. Opening the door, and entering the library. You take a seat right next to this stranger, surprisingly the tables were stacked with students occupying them. You don’t know how it happened, you got up to look for a textbook like normal. It did take you a little while to find the right one. Before eventually returning back to your seat.
When returning, your laptop was closed for some reason. Odd? You didn’t close yours. The seat next to you was empty. You shrug it off, opening the laptop you’re met with an unfamiliar name. “Lee Heeseung”
“Who is Lee Heeseung?” You thought to yourself. You move the mouse on the touchpad before realizing, wait, you have his laptop? How did this happen? Did he happen to leave with yours? You hear a slight snicker seeing a group of friends laughing. Did they do this? You weren’t one to assume. You just close the laptop before leaving the textbook and just leave for the day.
Heeseung was studying for his upcoming exam. Surprisingly, he never studies, only this time because he wasn’t going to fail this exam, not especially after what happened last time. He would want to erase that moment forever. Heeseung notices a presence next to him. Someone sat next to him. He didn’t mind and just continued to study. He notices the person getting up and watches them leave before deciding himself that this was enough studying for today. He closed his laptop and got up, returning the many textbooks he used in the study session. He comes back to his spot, packing up and finally grabs the laptop. He makes his way out.
The walk back to his dorm wasn’t so long; having to live on campus was one blessing for times like this. Not having to drive home. As soon as he gets inside he unpacks and sets the laptop on his desk. Laying on the bed exhausted. He wants to go to sleep, but he remembers about a question he has and quickly gets up. Wanting to email his professor. He opens the laptop to be met with a wallpaper that he knew wasn’t his. He always had his wallpaper as the default wallpaper. He takes note of the stickers on it too. Something is definitely wrong. This is not his.
He presses the spacebar, popping up the login screen. “Yn..” who is yn? And does this person have his laptop? No!? What if they find out his password!? He panicked a bit before texting his friends.
Hot man🔥: yo chat I need help
Jakey wakey: WHAT HAPPENED!?!
Hot man🔥: I THINK SOMEONE STOLE MY LAPTOP BROTHA!
Snowman ⛄️: nah
Sugar daddy🫦: how did they even steal it?
Hot man🔥: IDK!?
Hot man🔥: maybe it got swapped?
Jakey wakey: how did it get swapped?
Hot man🔥: IDK THAT I WENT TO GO PUT THE TEXTBOOKS UP SINCE I WAS STUDYING BEFORE I GOT BACK TO MY DORM AND I NEED TO EMAIL PROFESSOR YO BUT THEN I SEE THIS!?? 💔
Sugar daddy🫦: okay okay calm down buddy who does this laptop belong too? 😒
Hot man🔥: yn. Who is yn?
Snowman⛄️: WAIT I KNOW HER
Hot man🔥: ITS A HER?? 😨
Jakey wakey: thought it was obvious but alright 😃
Snowman⛄️: stfu anyways she’s in my third class tomorrow.
Hot man🔥: PLEASE ASK HER IF SHE HAS I NEED IT NEOW 😫
Sugar daddy🫦: ok ok buddy calm down you’ll live
So the next day, it was Sunghoon’s mission to ask you if you had Heeseung’s laptop. You sat in your spot like normal before being approached by him. You raised your brow at him. “What’s up?”
“Oh hey yn umm do you perhaps have a guy named Heeseung’s laptop?” You replied fast “yes yes does he have mine I need it quickly I can’t live without it..” Sunghoon looked at your surprise. “Damn you are like the same person I swear.. anyways here’s his number um you can text him anytime you want.” You take the small slip of paper before seeing his number. “Thank you.”
After that incident, feelings were developed along the way. You both continued to talk. Heeseung would even join you in your study sessions. Literally only for you. That happened 2 years ago. So much has happened since then.
“Hello? Sweetheart, are you still there?” A voice cuts off your thoughts. “I-uh huh?” You look at him. “I’ve been calling you for a minute now, what’s up?” You get a bit embarrassed. “Oh nothing, just daydreaming..”
Heeseung smirks while taking a seat in front of you. “Whatcha daydreaming of? Me?” He teased handing you your ice cream. “No never” he sulked, pouting his lips slightly. “I’m kidding, maybe I did” you giggled at his reaction. “You and your so called jokes” he rolls his eyes. “Yeah and you still love me” you keep your eyes on him. “Yes I do and it won’t change.” Heeseung grabs your hand before placing a kiss on it. “Now eat up..”
Author’s note: wrote this in one sitting chat I am BORED!! I was watching love island and like TEA IS REAL. Um anyways yeah I always write around 4-5 am like idk it’s almost 6 am but Ik yall dgaf so 💋
© ynsvnte copyright 2024
#kflixnet#en-log#on ℴur 𝑙ove。✦ bywons #mari: works *#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fluff#enhypen crack#enhypen angst#enhypen soft hours#enha x reader#enha imagines#enha fluff#enha reactions#enha#enhypen heeseung#lee heesung x reader#lee heeseung#heeseung headcanons#heeseung x reader#heeseung fluff#heeseung imagines#heeseung#enha scenarios
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GOOD WITH KIDS
ushijima, suna, hinata, akaashi, sakusa, kita, atsumu with their kids ^__< reader is never mentioned so u can imagine them as single dads if u'd like 🫶
USHIJIMA’s tall, to say the least. his daughter finds this incredibly beneficial to her every few days. all she has to do is walk up to his spot on the couch and look a little fidgety, biting her bottom lip, for wakatoshi to smile. “is something high up again?” “yeah…the cereal’s on the top shelf again! i didn’t put it there last time though, i swear.” she furrows her brows as her dad stands up to his full height. “well, let’s get it down from there together, then.” he easily pulls her into his arms and she giggles, maneuvering her way to sit on his shoulders with practiced ease. “make sure not to bump your head,” he reminds her, slowly walking to the kitchen. “i won’t!” she carefully holds onto him, and wakatoshi’s glad she hasn’t figured out he’s the one who’s been putting things high up whenever she’s finished with them.
SUNA holds his daughter's hand, his phone with two tickets to the barbie movie open in the hand that's free. they had gotten ready together—rintarou had let her put her cutest pink clips into his hair, and made sure to get a shirt that matched the shade of her dress. he took her to buy a whole outfit for the occasion, from the dress to her bag to her shoes. the pair had taken photos and videos, one currently posted on his story that had her face out of view, but bow in her hair shown off. “can i get the barbie popcorn combo, too?” she asks in line. “yeah, you wanna get a photo with the barbie cut-out after?” “yeah, yeah! she looks so pretty.” rintarou hums and lets her swing their arms back and forth, careful not to hit the people around them. “i think you’re even prettier, though.”
HINATA has always supported his son in decorating and expressing himself, which is why when he wanted to decorate his room, he couldn’t say no, even with his lack of artistic skills. instead, they worked together to fill online shopping carts with different merchandise and furniture and got temporary wallpaper that would fit the bill. a couple of weeks later, and now shoyo finds himself sitting on the ground setting up a new desk, surrounded by boxes and different figures that will hopefully fill the bookshelf they built a few hours earlier. “dad?” “yeah?” “do you think i could get some of your team’s stuff, too?” “my—” shoyo fumbles with the screw in his hand in shock. “like, like your shirt? or something signed by uncle bokuto?” the question could make shoyo cry, he thinks, and he makes a noise of excited agreement. “of course you can! do you want to check my old high school stuff, too?”
AKAASHI’s a fan of thunderstorms. his daughter on the other hand, is not. so he’s made it a little game. they’re sitting together in a blanket fort, legs touching and hands on their lap.she fidgets slightly at the sight of the lightning, but starts to count out loud for the thunder. “one, two, three, four…” keiji joins and they watch each other carefully. at eight, the thunder rumbles the house and his daughter reaches over—not for a hug or comfort, but to try tickling her dad who does the same. she squeals as he reaches for her sides, and keiji laughs as she, maybe a little aggressively, tickles him back. when he picks her up to sit her on his lap, she yells, “no fair! that’s cheating!” between giggles and yelps. in mock indignation, keiji replies, “cheating? i would never do that.” yet stops anyway. his daughter jokingly huffs. “i’m gonna get you next time.”
SAKUSA’s eyes widen as his daughter runs up to him, only to hide behind his legs. instinctively, his hand moves to hold and comfort her as he scans the park for what could have scared her. it’s when two large dogs bark that he spots them playing with each other and the dots click. he turns to squat in front of his daughter, who looks at him with wide eyes and a pout that make his heart clench. “dad,” she says softly. “hm?” “do you think i could play with the dogs? they’re…big.” she sends a pointed look to other kids walking up to the owner and their pets. kiyoomi hums again and gently rubs her shoulder. “ it looks like they’re being nice with the other kids, right? why don’t we go together and ask?” his daughter nods and grabs his hand, and kiyoomi’s eyes crinkle as he smiles before walking over with her.
KITA’s son is adamant that his bed is the comfiest in the house. shinsuke’s happy to hear this, of course, even if he’d have to personally disagree. he’s about to rest in your own bedroom, when his son catches up to him in the hall. “do you wanna try my bed?” shinsuke blinks, processing the question. he laughs a little. “i don’t think i’d fit properly.” “we can both fit!” and before he can object, his son is pulling him into his bedroom and onto the bed that was definitely not made for the two of them to fit. but something tells him that he won’t get out of this easily, so he lets out a breathy laugh before crawling in, leaving space for his son to curl in with him. his back will probably hurt a little when he wakes up, but he pulls the blanket over the both of them anyway with a soft smile on his face.
ATSUMU rolls up his sleeves and pretends to crack his knuckles. “y’ready?” “yeah!” his son says with determination. the carnival game worker counts down, and they both get ready with their basketballs. the grand prize, the largest teddy bear, was locked behind a rigged basketball hoop, but the two of them refused to give up. and apparently atsumu’s mind is on another level right now, honed in as he succeeds with most of his tosses, and gets the last needed shot for that damned bear. “dad! you did it!” his son cheers and excitedly pulls on his arm. “ha! and who said i couldn’t play a sport other than volleyball?” “...no one?” “aw, come on,” atsumu whines, “work with me here!” the both of them are play-fighting when the worker manages to get the bear down and hand it to them. there’s huge grins on both of their faces as they shout a thanks. “can i put it in my room?” “and hide this success? it’s goin’ in the living room.” “you can do that?” “majority of the family says yes, we can do anythin’.”
@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist
#haikyuu x reader#??? reader isnt here. fawk#Well. whatever.#ushijima fluff#suna fluff#hinata fluff#akaashi fluff#sakusa fluff#atsumu fluff#kita fluff#x reader
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Skz reacting to your mouth piercing
pairing: skz ot!8 × gn!Reader (individually)
request: could you do a skz reaction to the reader getting angel fangs, like the piercing of it's alright.
warning: maybe a little bit cringey but what can i do
a/n: even though i said "mouth piercing", this can be read as angel fangs as well! i just changed the title so it'd be easier to understand. I wrote a few things about the angel fangs specifically as well. hope you like it nevertheless!
Chan
SUCH A SIMP
When you first told him that you wanted to get a piercing, he was mentally preparing himself to simp over you
But once you actually got it???
So in love with how you look
Besides that, he would help to take care of the piercing until it healed
Always reminding you of what to do and how to do it
"I can't get over of how great you look. Does it feel okay? You're not in pain right now, are you?"
Lee Know
Shiny eyes
Open mouth
Staring at your lips like a kid who's excited
Doesn't say anything for a while
But you know he loved it
The type to be more addicted to your kiss
Would even think of piercing himself after all of this
(ngl i think his favourite type of piercing would be angel fangs, so if that's the case, he is so head over heels for you)
"Can I kiss you again?
Changbin
Huge smirk
And infinite compliments
As long as my man can talk, he'd be complimenting you
The typa bf to take a picture of you like this and set it as his wallpaper
I feel like he'd want to be there while you get the piercing
But if not possible, he'd be waiting for you while being so excited
Would tell everyone how great you look with this new change
Your biggest fan
"Look how great you look smiling in this pic. It's the third time I change my wallpaper this week, because of you."
Hyunjin
*hyunjin's voice" "sexy, hard sexy"🫸
Fr tho, my man's holding back from kissing you so hard
Wondering how he survived all those years before seeing you like this
*flashback to the tongue piercing during trainee day's rumours*
Lowkey thinks about getting a tongue piercing so you guys could "match" as well
(And if we're talking about the angel fangs, he'd paint it for sure. It's cliche but it's true)
Han
Let's face it
He was the one who suggested it
He'd be like "good morning my love. Y'know what ? You'd look amazing with a mouth piercing"
And he's in shock
Positive typa shock
Deadass stared at your lips for a whole minute before saying anything
And when he does say something, every sentence he can form is a compliment towards you
"You look so good"
"I know Ji, you said that a few times already."
"No, you don't get it. You look SO good."
Felix
Such a simp for you!!
He wouldn't know what to do
You'd be talking and he'd be like
looking at your mouth
SO fixated
He's hypnotized
and 100% in love btw
"Felix, are you even listening?"
"Hm? Oh, sorry sorry. It's just, you look... beautiful. Really, really beautiful"
Seungmin
He's trying so hard to keep his posture lmao
but he's freaking out over how amazing you look
Every now and then you catch him lost in the little piece of metal, admiring you with heart eyes
Similar to Chan, he'd also take care of you to keep manutence of a piercing beforehand
I'm 100% but he's so bf material
(talking bout the angel fangs, I believe he'd be the biggest fan of it, he can't even hide it)
"You look even prettier somehow. I don't know how you do it"
I.N
He's dying to kiss you
He needs to kiss you and feel your lips right now in this moment
And he loves how the piercing makes you smile even brighter
He's giggling so much lmao
He swears he could spend a whole afternoon looking at your mouth
Probably will do it anyways
And if he didn't know about the piercing before, like a surprise, he will be so 😯
He's so devoted to you
"I'm telling you, seeing you like this was the best thing that happened to me the whole day"
feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
dividers by @cafekitsune
#celi headcanon#tumblr stop deleting this please i beg you#skz fluff#stray kids#stray kids fluff#stray kids soft hours#skz x reader#skz#skz x you#stray kids x reader#bang chan#bang chan fluff#changbin#changbin fluff#lee know#lee know fluff#hyunjin#hyunjin fluff#seungmin#seungmin fluff#i.n#i.n fluff#felix#felix fluff#han#han fluff
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I want sugar daddy submas but a date with emmet. I feel like after a fancy lunch. They went to buy luxury furniture. And emmet asks the reader to decorate their house or room in ways that she wants it to be. And when the reader is choosing what sofa goes best in the living room (or her room) Emmett is just imaging all the kinds of things he can do with you on that sofa (and whether that sofa is good for sexy time.) when looking at all the mirror he just thinks about how he can f you in front of the mirror and see all the angle
Anon, I am so unbelievably sorry that this took so long to answer, but it has been eating at my brain for the entire time it's been sitting in my inbox and I really wanted to get it right. I hope what I finally came up was worth the wait!
Luxuries
Summery: Emmet takes you furniture shopping for the twin's summer house. Certain unspoken presumptions and misunderstandings in your relationship with the twins come to light. A little angst with a happy ending 💕
Pairings: Sugar Daddy!Emmet x Reader (GN), Implied Sugar Daddy!Ingo x Reader
Warnings: 18+ content (Minors Begone!), Sugar Daddy-esque relationship (and the consequences and implications of such), smut, dirty fantasies, personal and financial insecurities.
After a wonderful morning of trying on clothes and being spoiled to death by Ingo, Emmet meets both of you at a small diner. You’ve never even heard of this place but the atmosphere here is incredibly cozy.
The whole interior is a beautiful, solid hardwood, and each covered table is set up against a curtained window that lets in the light. The booths, far from the cheap vinyl you're used to in diners, are instead actual loveseats made with real leather. The tile floor below you is a lovely dark green, which makes the isle in between tables look like an emerald sea.
“I didn’t think you’d like a place like this. It’s very vintage.” And fancy. You think. This is like no diner you've ever been to.
“That’s because it’s been in business for nearly a century.” Ingo says as he takes the seat across from you, “We’ve been coming here since we first started at Gear Station.”
He sets a small bag under the table. It contains a wonderfully soft cardigan you'd found on a sale rack on your way out of the tailor's. Its price tag could have fed you for two weeks, but Ingo insisted on buying it for you anyway.
It's absurd to feel weird over a cardigan, you tell yourself, especially when it was the cheapest thing bought for you today. You put on a brave face at the tailor’s, mostly because there was someone else already there, but you’re really not used to having so much money to use on whatever you want.
Maybe that was it. The rest of the beautiful, beautiful clothes could be excused as a business expense, like a uniform for a job. But the cardigan, that was for you only. There was no getting around that.
Emmet's voice startles you out of your thoughts, and all of a sudden you're back in the diner.
“Yup yup! This building used to be the dining carriage on the luxury cross-regional line.” Emmet explains, sliding in next to you. His whole expression is aglow with happiness. You’ve come to understand that different smiles mean different things with him. This one shines with warmth. “They have done a lot of work to preserve and recreate as much as they can. These are even the same kind of chairs and tables they used back then!”
“I never even knew this was here…” You take a moment to marvel at the intricate wallpaper and polished wooden walls and try very hard not to think about how much has already been spent today.
“It’s a real gem, don’t you think?” Ingo’s eyes are sparkling. He looks so happy just to share this with you. “Everything here is wonderful as well. Please take a look at the menu and order whatever you’d like. It’s on us.”
~~~
If the twin’s choice of lunch surprised you, Emmet’s choice of where to take you on a date shocks you even more.
“Is this… a furniture store?”
“Mhmm!” Emmet watches your expression carefully. “I know it is unusual. But I want your help picking out some pieces for my and Ingo’s summer house. We have to host a bunch of parties this year. You’ll be spending a lot of time there with us and we want you to be comfortable.”
To his credit, Emmet doesn’t mention a thing about wanting to buy furniture for your place. He’s never been inside (truthfully, he doesn’t even know where you live), but judging from what Elesa’s told him about your lifestyle, it could probably use something nicer. And he would love to give it to you.
“But shouldn’t Ingo be here for that too?”
“Hmmmm, no. We have verrry similar tastes. And we both trust your sense of style, so he agreed to let us go together.”
“Oh. Okay then.” You still look unsure, but Emmet doesn’t seem to notice. He takes you by the hand and your heart flutters inside your chest.
“Full steam ahead!”
~~~
Calling the store massive is an understatement. Even in a city like Nimbasa, you've never seen anything like this.
It's like a labyrinth in here. Every way you turn is a new room full of a setup of furniture. Some of them are kitchens with huge sinks and granite countertops. Others are elaborate dining rooms with tables set for fifty. The ones Emmet most wants to explore are the living rooms.
Maybe this can be a good opportunity to get to know him after all. While browsing a whole wall full of chairs, you ask about his decorating style and preferences.
"Ingo and I like a modern look. It fits with our professional image, so it’s good for places we have to host in." His expression seems reserved, despite his smile.
You think back to how much they loved the old, vintage dining car, and wonder if sticking to a modern 'professional image' can be joined with what they actually like in practice.
Your eyes scan over the chairs, and you find a dark brown, almost black leather piece toward the center. It's traditional, in that the upholstery is very classic, but the lines are crisp and sharp, modern. You don't think it would look out of place in either scenario. You point it out.
"What about that one?"
Emmet brings a hand to his chin, considering, silent. You're worried you may have made a mistake until he quite suddenly turns around and marches across the room. He stops in front of a matched pair of very modern, round side tables, one black and one white, accented with marble tops and gold trim.
"A pair of those chairs with these tables could fill a nook by one of the windows." He says. "Verrry nice. An excellent combination!"
"That would be so cozy! It would be a nice place to sit and talk for a while." You say, excited that he's on board. "A rug under them all would help mark the space as its own little area.”
"Yes!" He puts a hand on your shoulder. “Let's mark these down and remember to look at rugs later. For now, couches."
~~~
There are almost as many couches in this place as there are chairs.
At one point, Emmet grabs your hand and pulls you down onto a loveseat with him to test it out. It's very comfy. Comfier still with you cuddled up under his arm.
Across from you both is a mirror on a large wall. It’s beautiful, with golden leaves and flowers surrounding the frame. In it, Emmet can see you curled into his side. He sees your reflection turn and gaze up at him. The look in your eyes is like he hung the stars. He wants you to always look at him like that.
How easy would it be, to turn his head and kiss you? His lips would fit against yours perfectly. He’s thought about it so many times already. In the dead of night. In the quiet morning. In the dull monotony of the work day. He wonders how you would react. Would you swoon against him, melt into him like he was made for you? His hand has already found its way to your waist. One quick tug, and you'd fall right into his lap - where you belong.
You'd sigh as his lips ghost their way down your neck. He'd trail kisses across your shoulders like rain. You’d gasp at the rough texture of his sideburns against your sweet, soft skin. He’d nip, maybe even bite. Ingo had gotten you those clothes in black… he’d have to mark you in other ways. In places only he could see.
Emmet thinks of his hand slipping across your neck to give a gentle squeeze. You’d shudder in his arms and your eyes would slip closed. His hand would slide down across your chest. Lower. Lower. He feels you breathe against him. The fluttering of your heartbeat. Lower. To the waist of your pants. He’d stop, rubbing his thumb against the line where clothing meets skin, until your hand wraps around his and shows him exactly what you want.
He’d look up from where he sucks dark bruises onto your shoulder. Silver eyes blown dark with lust would meet yours through the reflection. You’d watch yourself become the very image of desperation as he worked you. You would see how he took you apart piece by piece and built you back together with only his touch. The jerking of your hips against his hand. The friction driving you to a squirming mess against him. You’d be laid out before him in the mirror like a feast.
"Emmet..." Your voice is like honey to his ears. A voice on the breeze that whispers, begs for more. He’d give you anything. Everything. "Emmet..."
…
"Emmet, are you there?"
He snaps out of his trance. Just like that, the dream is gone. He's back in the furniture store with you sitting next to him.
"I am Emmet. I was lost on a train of thought. What were you saying?"
“This chair is nice, but I don’t know about the color. I wanted to know what you think.”
“I think we should get this mirror.”
“The mirror?” You look baffled, and turn to make a face at your reflection. It doesn’t really seem like his style, “Why?”
“I like the view I’m seeing in it.”
~~~
Emmet circles a huge sectional. It’s been presented with a luxurious, dark grey fabric. His hands sweep across the back and he notes that even the top is cushioned. There’s so much room, he could fuck you in a different position on it every day for a month and still have opportunities for more. The prospect has merit…
He shakes himself out of it. Any more daydreaming, and you’ll start to get worried about him. Besides, as much as he wants it to be, your relationship isn’t like that with them. Not yet.
“What about this couch?” He asks as you take a seat. You bounce as you plop down, and his fingers tighten indistinguishably on the upholstery.
Its humiliating for you to think about how this couch wouldn't even fit in your apartment. It’s lovely, really. And very nice to sit on. It's even softer than your bed! But it’s far too big for your little studio, (if you could even call a space so small a studio. You’re pretty sure Elesa's closet is bigger than your apartment).
“It’s really comfy! Will it work in your summer house?”
“It might be a little small…” He thinks aloud, coming around the side to drop next to you. Emmet leans back, putting his feet up onto the ottoman in front. “We could add a few more sections to it. It would look nice in the conversation pit. Or…”
He turns to you with a look on his face that’s clearly trying to be nonchalant.
“We could always get it for your place.”
You nearly choke. “My place?” You look away, trying to control your expression. There’s no way that would work. It couldn’t even fit it through the door. You try to keep your voice measured, throw in a small laugh, “I don’t know about that…”
“If you do not like it, there are lots of other things here. We could always find something else.”
Emmet says it like buying something like this for you is nothing. And for him, maybe it is. It occurs to you that you don’t really know much about their lives at all, or how well off they actually are. Maybe they really did go through life not even thinking about what it cost them.
Meanwhile, your funds have been so low that you haven’t even thought about replacing the ratty old futon you’ve had since college. There are a million other things that you’re more concerned about than your comfort - like fixing your car, or paying off your school debts, or how until recently, you struggled to afford just surviving from one month to another.
“Um.. maybe. Why don’t we take a look in the next room.”
Anything to get away from this couch.
~~~
Emmet’s warm smile has fallen. His lips are pursed and there’s a furrow in his brow, like how he looks when trying to come up with battle strategies. You pick at your cuticles. Silence stretches out in between you two like an impassible river. Emmet has always been quieter than his brother, but it’s never been like this before.
“You said you have a conversation pit in your summer home?” You ask, trying to kickstart the conversation again. He’d also said you’d be spending time there, so… “When will I get to visit?”
And you pray the answer is still soon.
Some tension seems to leave him as he answers, “We usually host two parties for the season. Ingo and I would love you to be there for both,”
“I’d like that!” You answer, a little too quickly. But he seems to take it well. He almost looks relieved, and that comforts you as well.
Once you’ve broken the ice, conversation flows easily between you two once more. In fact, you’re both doing really well together! Your chatter is lighthearted, sometimes even boldly teasing, and though you have to hustle to keep up with his long legs and purposeful stride, you find he keeps looking toward you, like he wants to make sure you’re still with him. It’s endearing.
Until he tries to buy you another couch. Another wave of shame crests over you – it’s so powerful that you can’t think of what to do or how to save this moment without losing it. And it was going so well, too!
“Emmet, please stop. I’m sorry, but I don’t think you should buy this.”
“What, why?” He seems baffled, like he can’t figure out what you mean, “Is the color wrong? You shouldn’t worry. We can get it redone to fit your tastes.”
“I- no. That’s not- I just wouldn’t be comfortable with it.”
“But… it’s very comfortable?” Emmet looks confused, “The cushions are plenty soft. You just said so.”
“No, no. I mean, I don’t feel comfortable with you buying something like this for me!”
"But that’s why we're here. You deserve to be comfortable."
He pauses for a moment, as if struck by something.
"Are you not comfortable? With Ingo and I buying you things?"
You pause. Today has been a lot, with Ingo taking you to such a fancy, expensive tailor and Emmet wanting to buy you all of this new furniture. It’s so much money. More than you’ve ever had to spend on your own. But truthfully, it’s nice too. To be able to look at something and not have to worry about what it cost. To just decide you can have it, no matter what it was.
And it was nice, SO nice, to have people who wanted to give it to you.
"It's been really nice. But…" You sit down on the nearest couch, eyes facing downward as you try to put together the words to express how you’re feeling without choking.
But at what cost? You’re not naive. You know that this relationship is transactional. Every debt will have to be paid eventually. Once it’s all wrung up, what will the price on your shoulders be?
You’re scared that soon the spell will be broken. The debt collector will come knocking and demand something you can’t give. What will you do then, stuck with a price you can’t bear to pay and no way to back out? It’s terrifying. Would Ingo and Emmet do that to you? You’ve known them long enough to think that they probably wouldn’t, but how can you really be sure? How can you be sure of anything?
Emmet carefully sits across from you, patiently waiting for your next words.
“I don’t know why you’re both… It’s all so much, and I don’t know what you’re expecting from me in exchange for all of this.” Your expression is worried, almost scared.
Emmet feels his veins turn to ice. He suddenly feels like how he did as a child, making a rookie mistake in a battle and finding out how quickly and badly things could backfire on him. This was the last impression he or Ingo ever wanted to give.
"We are not buying you things because we want something from you. We wanted to do this for you because we like seeing you happy. You should have nice things." Your eyes are watery. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and offers it to you. “We only want you to be happy. Is that hard to believe?”
Emmet knows now that the game is almost up. The three of you are going to have to sit down and talk about your relationship – it’s all too quickly growing out of the convenient agreement it started as and into something more. They want to give you more, but Emmet realizes that they shouldn’t have assumed you’d just accept without talking it through first. You were so much more than what you could give to them. Yet somewhere along the way he and Ingo had both failed to consider how you might make assumptions about their intentions.
And then there’s the matter of their attraction to you. Emmet likes you. Wants you. They both do. But they can’t stand the idea of you thinking they’re buying you. Love that is an obligation is not what they want. It is so much more than that for them.
“I am Emmet. And I am sorry. I should have known it was too much to offer.” He says as you wipe your eyes. “I am serious though. Neither Ingo or I would ever expect anything like that.”
“I-” You take a deep breath, “Thank you. I’m sorry too. I should have told you how I was feeling sooner.”
Emmet reaches out and takes your hand in his. This time, you don’t pull away.
“Do you think we could start our date over?” He asks. You look at him and know that if you said no right now, he would take you home and everything would still be okay. “What if we just did something fun together instead? The amusement park is still open.”
You laugh through the last of your tears. “I’d like that. Can we ride the ferris wheel?”
He rubs a thumb over your knuckles.
“That sounds perfect.”
~~~
Thanks for reading! 💕
If you liked this fic, there is now a direct sequel!
#ingo x reader#ingo#submas x reader#x reader#pokemon x reader#my writing#sugar daddy submas#emmet#emmet x reader#pokemon ingo x reader#pokemon emmet x reader#gear station after dark#willow whispers
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so high school ━━━ atsumu miya
23. first day ♡
“Come on.”
You take in a deep breath, looking up at Atsumu from your spot in his passenger seat. He leans against the open door of the car, a hand outstretched towards you. Your eyes drift to the building behind him, the blinds drawn and blocking the view inside of the restaurant.
Now, not only have you got to pretend to be Atsumu’s boyfriend to the public, you have to pretend in front of his brother. And your boss. Despite your anxiety, you accept Atsumu’s hand and let him lead the way into the restaurant. He drapes an arm around your neck, pulling you in closer to him whilst using his other hand to open the door.
The lights are up full to compensate for the lack of sunlight, so you can see every detail. The walls are painted a dark grey, decorated with pictures taken from the twins’ childhoods, the restaurant opening. You approach the closest collage of photos, scanning over each one.
There’s one of them as young kids in a volleyball club, wide smiles on their faces. The two of them in high school, black uniforms in a large gymnasium, the entire team surrounding them. Another at their graduation with their mother between them. One of them at the grand opening, Osamu in the middle with his friends surrounding him.
You point to one of the faces in the picture. “Who’s this? I recognise him.” You look back, Atsumu leaning in closer to see who you were pointing at.
“Oh, that’s Sunarin. He was in the Japan team the year I was there.” Atsumu smiles, directing your attention to a larger framed photo. “Here’s us at the Olympics. Me, Sunarin, and ‘Samu.”
You gesture to the first picture that caught your eye, smiling softly. “I like this one. You were cute kids. What happened?”
Atsumu laughs, gently swatting your arm. “Oi, don’t make me regret getting ya this job.”
“Well, too late for ya to take it back.”
The two of you turn to face Osamu, walking out from the kitchen. He sits his towel over his shoulder and approaches you, reaching out a hand to shake. “How are ya both?” He pats Atsumu’s arm before crossing his over his chest.
“We’re good. Y/n’s glad to get out the house, aren’t ya?” Atsumu sets his hand on your shoulder with a soft smile.
“Yeah, I’m going fully insane. I even started watching Atsumu play against Argentina. And I was there for that game. I’ve been so bored.”
“When you’ve stooped that low, that’s how you know time’s come.”
Atsumu slaps his brother’s arm, shaking his head. “Ya better not turn her against me, ‘Samu, I swear.”
Osamu shrugs his shoulders, laughing softly and saying, “Hey, if she turns against ya, that’s not on me.” He claps his hands together and turns around to direct you to the far wall. “This is where we’ll display your art. I will take anythin’, I’m desperate. Sunarin and Kita have been up my ass about it ever since the repairs.”
You furrow your eyebrows, looking between the brothers. “Repairs?”
“The pipes burst and the entire wall got wrecked, almost collapsed. Took a while to fix it back up, but here we are. New wallpaper, too. Do ya think you could do something with it?”
You nod your head, taking your phone out of your pocket and taking a few quick pictures. It’s the same shade of grey as the rest of the walls, the only difference being the gold embellishment of fish covering it. “Yeah, I can see why they’ve been bugging you. It’s very bare. I can definitely do something. Um, do you have any ideas? I can do a lot, so if you have any references I could put something together. Maybe a black canvas with gold on it, or the other way around?”
Osamu nods, waving for you to follow him towards the counter. He pauses when Atsumu doesn’t follow. “Ya good?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna head to work. Need to get a coffee first. I’ll be back to pick you up after practice, darlin’. Stay in touch, yeah?” He awkwardly pats you on the back before doing the same to his brother, tucking his hands in his pockets and heading towards the door.
“Bye, Atsumu!”
He gives you a smile and a wave in response when he leaves the restaurant. You turn your full attention to Osamu, following him behind the bar and towards his office. The walls are painted a navy blue, coat hooks and lockers lining the way to the staff room.
Inside his office, the walls are still the floral print from the last owners, certificates and awards hung on the walls. More personal photos, one of him and Sunarin with their arms around one another on his desk.
You take a seat in the cushioned chair, tucking your hair behind your ears and watching him rummage through the papers on his desk.
“So, I started looking at work that you’ve posted to get an idea and I had some help putting this together, but these are some images I’ve found that I think would suit your style.” He hands over a stack of ten loose sheets of paper, each with one or two pictures on them.
You flick through them, folding corners on the ones you thought you could use. Leaning back in your seat, you cross one leg over the other and smile at him. “I can definitely work with these, thank you. I also saw that you had a lot of pictures of you and friends and people close to you hung on the walls. I do portraits and, um… I can do a portrait of you and one or two other people, if that’s something you’d be interested in?”
Osamu smiles, eyes flickering to the picture frames on his desk. "Yeah, that would be nice. I can send you a picture? We don’t have much spare time to pose.”
“Of course. Could you send a few? Fully confidential, and I’ll delete them once I’ve finished the painting. I, um… I’ll also need a deposit from you, just in case you pull out.” Your eyes widen when the words leave your mouth, regretting your choice of phrasing. “Not that I don’t trust you or anything! I do, I just take a deposit from everyone to secure and just so I don’t, um… Waste my time.”
Osamu waits for you to finish, nodding along to everything you say. “That’s no problem. I expected that, anyway. If you give me a quote on the deposit whenever you can, and I’ll transfer that straight over to you so you can make a start. I’d also like to fund whatever materials it is you use. Paints, canvases, everything that you don’t already have. If you buy anything for this, give me a receipt and I’ll refund you for your purchases.”
“Oh, Osamu, I can’t let you do that, it’s too much.” You fix the papers into a neat pile. “The deposit is enough.”
He shakes his head, eyes flickering past you to something in the hallway. He nods his head before turning his full attention back onto you. “It’s not, I’ll be paying you for this. Now, are you ready to start your training?”
masterlist. previous | next
summary. after your best friend reveals he’s moving out of your shared flat, you’re presented with a tough choice: let one of the creeps who are begging you to let them move in with you, or find a cheaper flat in another area of town. a do-over couldn’t have come at a better time for you, but your only option for a place to stay is with someone your best friend knew from high school, and his two teammates.
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#so high school#haikyuu smau#hq smau#atsumu miya#miya atsumu#atsumu miya smau#miya atsumu smau#miya atsumu x f!reader#miya atsumu x y/n#miya atsumu x you#atsumu miya x reader#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu miya x f!reader#atsumu miya x y/n#atsumu miya x you#atsumu miya x female reader#miya atsumu x female reader
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Exactly my cup of tea. [George Weasley x reader]
Title: Exactly my cup of tea
Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor!reader, background mentions of Cho x Harry.
Timeline: Set during OOTP (mentions of Harry and Cho’s canonical date on Valentine’s Day 1996)
Summary: After Harry’s failed date with Cho at Madam Puddifoot’s, he tells the reader and George all about it. They decide to check out the place for themselves.
Warnings: Brief mentions of sexual acts, no smut or detailed description. Friends to lovers. Just a big ball of fluff 🤍
"Ughr I'm telling you, it was awful," Harry groans as he throws himself onto the couch next to you in the Gryffindor common room. George, who is sat opposite you in a little armchair looks up from tinkering with his newest invention and gives Harry a look which tells him to carry on. Harry looks around to check no one is listening in before he continues. "It's that stupid teashop! She talked about Cedric the entire time, cried through most of it and when I briefly mentioned Hermione she stormed off and disappeared."
You and George's eyes met very briefly as you tried to stifle the giggles that were threatening to spill out of both of you at the awfulness of the story but you quickly recovered and tried to console Harry.
"It was probably just too soon mate, she probably felt guilty that she wanted to go out with you so soon after his death," you reasoned, earning a slight nod from Harry, who had listened to your opinion.
"Yeah but how long does she need?" George says with a tone to his voice you couldn't place.
"What, you think she can just get over it like that? If it were-." You began to say, only to cut yourself off sharpish when you realised what the next words out of your mouth would be. George gave you a strange look and Harry seemed to be completely oblivious as you carried on. "It's not the same for everyone, these things take time, especially when it was such a shock like that." Both boys silently agreed and we carried on talking about the whole debacle until Fred and Lee joined later on. Harry had described in excruciating detail the floof and frills of the tea house, with its chintzy furniture and outdated wallpaper that looked like a remnant from someone's great grandmothers house. The conversation quickly diverted as Fred began waffling about an idea for a new product that had piqued George's interest and had lost Harry's.
George tinkered with the project a little while longer whilst Fred talked you into designing new packaging for his new idea and drawing up a basic plan for how he wanted it to look. Only when Lee had fallen asleep and had slunk down and dribbled onto Fred's shoulder did you all declare that it was time for bed, seeing that the common room had been vacated by everyone else hours ago.
"I'll be up in a minute," George says, ushering his brother and a very sleepy Lee away. Fred pauses, waiting for you with an outstretched elbow for you to take but you also say you'd be up later with George so he shrugs and walks off to bed.
"So, Harry and Cho..." George says with a smirk, chuckling to himself. You had to giggle back, finally able to now that everyone had disappeared.
"Do you think she meant to take him there? Like, for the reason everyone else goes?" You asked, still laughing.
George looked up at you with confusion for a second, "what, for tea?"
"No you great oaf, it's where couples go when they want to be alone... away from the prying eyes of Hogwarts," you said with a wiggle of your eyebrows. George's eyebrows shot up high on his head at the information, clearly not knowing it was Hogwarts' number one make out spot.
"Go Cho," George says, his shoulders shaking with laughter, to which you snorted in reply.
"Do you think Madam Puddifoot knows that she's running a teen brothel? Or maybe a live sex show at least." George barks out a laugh that is much too loud for the current time and situation and you both fight to hold back your laughter.
"Probably, she is a Madame after all," George laughs with a shake of his head.
"Maybe she puts something in the tea," you joked, "you and Fred should get on that. Aphrodisiac all sorts," you said cheekily, alluding to the popular liquorice muggle sweets that Arthur was so fond of. He laughed again, finally putting down the invention and assortment of tools.
"Shall we go?" He asks.
You look at him completely dumbfounded at his question, shocked that he'd even ask. Reading your reaction, his eyes immediately shoot open and words fall from his mouth to recover, "I didn't mean like that! We should go tomorrow and scout the place out." You can almost make out a small blush settling on his cheeks and you laugh whilst nodding your head.
"It's a date, Weasley. Dress nice!" You smiled and walked over to him to hug him goodnight, something you had both done for years, before you climbed up the stairs toward your dormitory.
The next morning you dress nicely, choosing a cute skirt and sweater to wear as you prepare to meet George ready for tea. When you walk down the stairs from your dorm you see him sat there with a single flower in his hand. He looked so handsome in his blue floral shirt and nice chinos, apparently having listened to your warning of dressing nice.
He rises as soon as he sees you, smiling as you walk down the stairs and you have to remind yourself briefly that it's a fake date.
"You look really pretty," he says as he hands you the flower, causing you to blush as you smile shyly up at him.
"It's not going to squirt water is it?" You laugh, gesturing to the flower. He looks at you with a puzzled expression, clearly not getting the joke.
"It's a muggle thing, like a magic trick? They have flowers that squirt water, mostly clowns," you explain as his eyes widen.
"Muggles have magic tricks?" He asks in complete astonishment. You laugh, nodding as he continues to look amazed.
"You and Fred should sell some, when you open your shop," you chuckle as he leads you out of the common room and down the staircases.
"One eyed witch or regular walking?" You asked George, preparing how you were going to get to Hogsmeade.
He shoots you a little look before replying with a smirk, "regular, I'm not taking you down one eyed witch in your little skirt."
"God it's like Umbridge threw up in here," you commented as you sat at the intimately small table at Madam Puddifoot's tea shop, waiting fir tour tea to arrive, the hideous decor already making you feel claustrophobic.
"Yeah except there's less cats," George mutters, scrunching his face up as he looks around with a loom of utter repulsion.
The exterior of the tea shop should have been enough evidence that the inside was going to be as frilly and pretentious as it was with the powder pink windows and door frames but nothing could have prepared you for this.
There wasn't a single surface inside that wasn't covered in either powderpuff pink, florals or lace. Harry really was telling the truth. There were armoires filled with delicate China teacups and boxed teas that fit the aesthetic of the shop, China plates lined up on the walls alongside some truly hideous artwork of loved up couples and badly painted floral bouquets.
How this place had become a den of inequity you had no idea but there were subtle references to love all around; erotically named teas and treats, picture on the wall that seemed to blend into female silhouettes the longer you looked at it, even some of the cakes on display looked phallic.
You looked around at the couples that were clearly there on dates and had to stifle a laugh at the awkwardness of it all. Some couples looked like it was their first date and were sat awkwardly amongst the sea of people clearly much more comfortable and familiar with each other. Some of the boys looked painfully uncomfortable amongst the ostentatious decor, clearly having not chosen the venue of their date. Most couples however were more than comfortable, most of them glued to each other in one way or another.
Your tea was brought over and you thanked the waitress as you poured the tea for you and George. He hadn't said much since you walked in, more silently observing with an outright puzzled and disgusted expression that you couldn't help but chuckle at.
A few couples, particularly near the back were snogging, no doubt regulars on account of their knowledge to sit at the back and wrapped around the little cozy corners.
"Godric, he'll get lost if he gets any further down her throat," you whispered, laughing at a couple far off in the corner, nodding your head subtly towards them so that George could see. He immediately snorted after catching a glimpse of them, looking around to mock more of the patrons.
"How is this place getting couples riled up? It's like my great aunt Muriel's front lounge," George laughs, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Well it seems to be working regardless," you chuckle, taking a sip of your tea which was actually quite delicious.
"She's definitely getting fingered under the table," you whisper suddenly, nodding towards a couple in the back you and George had been mocking.
George immediately spits out his tea, eyes bulging at your blunt words making you laugh. He wipes down the front of his shirt as his eyes flick over to the couple in question and he quickly looks away from them realising you're probably right. His reaction was so cute that you couldn't help but laugh, seeing George Weasley shy was an incredibly rare occurrence and you were loving it.
"Cushion in the lap," you nod towards a guy on your left sat with a frilly, heart shaped velvet cushion placed in his lap, "might as well have a sign over his head saying 'I've got an erection," you laugh.
"Girls know this stuff?" George whisper-yells, eyes bugged wide, horrified that you'd apparently cracked guy code.
"Only the bad girls," you wink at him before taking another sip of your tea. You couldn't help but notice George begin to vividly blush, all the way up from his collar to the top of his hairline and you smiled sweetly up at him, finding his reaction entirely too endearing.
You both carried on making fun of the couples around you, happily sipping your tea as you enjoyed spending time with George. He'd become a little less bashful over the course of your visit and had began actively mocking the couples, pointing out particularly aggressive ones and making little quips.
When you walked up to the little counter, the waitress passed over your bill and you began reaching into your bag to pull out your little coin purse. At the same time, George reached into his pocket to pull out his own money but you quickly placed down your money and dragged him out of the tea shop before he could fight you on it.
"Why did you pay?" He asks, frowning as he looks over at you. You smiled sweetly if not a little sarcastically at him as you replied.
"My treat, for you being gentlemanly enough not to feel me up under the table," you joked.
"Not like I wasn't thinking about it," he mumbles, making you pause. His eyes widen at he realises he just said that out loud as you both stand frozen, looking at each other with shocked and surprised eyes. Usually you would have thought nothing of a comment like that coming from George, thinking he was simply teasing you but his reaction told you otherwise.
"What?"
"What?"
"You wanted, with me?" You said in utter shock, wanting him to clarify what he meant. He was blushing again, not as heavily as before but you could definitely detect a pinkness to his cheeks underneath his freckles.
"Yes," he says, looking up at you nervously.
You didn't think twice and immediately stepped forward, shyly pressing your lips to his. He began kissing you back a few seconds later, assuming the shock had settled and he reached delicately for your hip, holding you to him as he kissed you back.
When you pulled apart, you both smiled nervously at each other, letting out a little awkward chuckle at the sudden twist.
"I told you, she puts something in that tea!"
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