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HAVE A SEAT!
synopsis: co.ckwarming various hsr women
featuring: ruan mei, feixiao, lingsha, herta
rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)
warnings: sub! afab fem reader, dom character, strap on usage, strapwarming, co.ckwarming, feixiao and lingsha have d.icks, lingsha has two di.cks, lap s.ex, semi-public se.x, pene.tration, unprotected se.x, riding, oral, slight degradation (herta), slight exhbition (lingsha and herta), established relationship, might be ooc.
art credits: superstar rivalry
RUAN MEI
“Subject Delta’s brain waves are normal. Their behaviors are normal. A change in diet may be necessary however, as th— darling will you stop squirming?”
Ruan Mei sighed and stopped her recording, looking down at you writhing in her lap as you tried to get comfortable. It was a long day in the lab for Ruan Mei, nothing out of the ordinary as she just had to get through the list of reports for the week. Unfortunately, (or fortunately) for you, whenever the biologist was starting to get bored in her office, she would always call for you to soothe her boredom.
And in this case, it seems that Ruan Mei had wanted you to get out the strap she loved using and sit on it while she did her reports. You never pegged your girlfriend as the type to be into something so risqué —especially in her lab of all places— yet she was adamant on you cockwarming her while she worked.
“R-Ruan Mei I can’t…” your voice cracked as she nestled her strap deeper inside you, the girth of her cock stretching you open as slick pooled at the base of the toy. Ruan Mei had definitely noticed the sticky mess, but rather than being a clean freak and wiping it away, she gathered a bit of the essence on her finger instead. “Please move…I need it…”
“I am not finished with my recordings. We still have to go over six more stages.” She comments curtly, admiring the consistency of your slickness by seeing how far she could stretch it between her fingers. The eyes behind her reading glasses were fogged in what appeared to be pure lust. She really was lost in the sight of you gripping her strap so needily, tightening around her while your nails dug deeper into her thighs. “…What did I say about your nails?”
“Mmngh…sorry…” you could barely contain the urge to bounce on her. Ruan Mei was just too mean…
“Apology accepted. I should cut them for you later…” Ruan Mei made a mental note for herself and took one of your hands into hers, gently pressing against your nails —which had grown a bit long— and aimlessly began thrusting.
At the sharp bounce of Ruan Mei’s strap bulldozing its way in, you resisted the urge to cry out in utter bliss. Ruan Mei ignored your obvious struggle and just stuffed her fingers into your mouth, slathering your precum over your tongue and making you gag.
“I need to start again. Please do be quiet this time.”
She turns the recorder back on, the red light flashing mockingly in your face while Ruan Mei shoves her fake member deeper into your hole, back to being cold and calculating while your walls spasmed over her toy.
“This is take two.”
FEIXIAO
“Don’t grip me so hard…”
Feixiao groaned and squeezed your waist as you nestled comfortably in her lap. The General thought it would be a fun idea to have you cockwarm her while she worked out, saying that she needed a “spotter,” but the General forgot to anticipate just how good you’d feel tightly squeezing her member. Maybe you’d be even more of a distraction than she thought…
“But General…you’re the one who asked me to—”
“I know what I said!”
She gave your hips one last squeeze before raising her arms to grab the bar above her, keen on doing a few chest presses while her cock was stuffed inside you. This was definitely unprofessional and dangerous by any means, but Feixiao was a strong woman. You trusted her to be able to handle herself during a workout, even if she might be distracted by your fluttering pussy.
“Alright, don’t move. Let me show you how strong your General is…” Feixiao purred and took the bar off the handles. The weights, intimidatingly massive, posed no threat to Feixiao as she pushed them up and down with no struggle. From where you were sitting, the sight of Feixiao flexing her muscles was just drool-worthy, watching as a thin sheen of sweat made her muscles glisten, the way they rippled with each pump of her arms. Not to mention how with each push of the weights, Feixiao’s cock throbbed inside you, almost as if it were aching to thrust with each rep.
You felt as if you could get pregnant just by watching her workout.
“Babe, babe…” Feixiao grunted, her teeth gritting together. “You’re squeezing me…”
You snapped out of your daze and looked down, watching as your pussy was practically clamping down on Feixiao and milking her. Though Feixiao hadn’t come yet, it sure as hell felt like it to her. “Sorry!” You exclaimed, trying to relax, though it was difficult to achieve as you couldn’t stop yourself from bouncing slightly on her dick.
“It’s…fine…” Feixiao’s chest heaved as she stared down at you squeezing her length, some of your slick pooling at her base and forming a creamy ring. “…Fuck.”
Your girlfriend suddenly lifted the bar up to the holders and set it there, carefully shimmying down so she can sit up and grab your hips. At the sudden movements, her heavy cock dragged wonderfully against your walls and caused you to let out a whine. “Maybe today should be a leg day instead.”
She chuckled and firmly grabbed your ass before making you bounce up and down on her lap. The sudden propulsion of your pussy getting pistoned by her dick had you throwing your head back sharply. “Feixiao…!”
Your beloved General simply flashed you a wolfish smile before leaning in to bite your neck, deciding right then and there that fucking you incoherent would be a better workout than chest presses. At least for today.
LINGSHA
“Yes, I’ll get back to you as soon as possible once the results come back. How does an appointment in four weeks sound?”
“Sounds good! Thank you Miss Lingsha!”
Your girlfriend smiled and waved off another customer coming to her for her remedies. However, despite her calm exterior, her thighs were quivering under the desk, all tension leaving her brow as she exhaled shakily and reached under. There, hiding just below her desk was you, pumping one of Lingsha’s cocks in your hand while your mouth pleasured the other. Just feeling the way you licked and stroked her two members had Lingsha whining and dropping her pen, unable to resist pushing your head down to bob further along her length.
“You really have no shame, do you?” She sighed, running her fingers across your scalp and moving down to tilt your chin upwards. Your eyes flitted up to meet hers, lips still suckling greedily on her cock as your hand paused its motions. Both of Lingsha’s hemipenes were erect and dripping with precum, spilling onto your lips and fingers as she resisted the urge to just take you on the table.
“Sawhy…” you said in a muffled voice, mouth too full of cock to respond properly. Lingsha just chuckled at your attempts to apologize, gently pulling you off her length so you could speak. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
You swallowed the saliva and precum that had built up in your mouth and groaned, clearly drunk off Lingsha’s scent now. You tried to go back to sucking her off, opening your mouth to take her in again, but Lingsha playfully pushed you away with a finger to your forehead.
“Ehh?”
“Calm down, I need a break…” Lingsha heaved, her cocks twitching with need while she steadied herself. “I have another appointment soon. I don’t want to make a huge mess under—”
There was a knock at the door, causing Lingsha to groan. “Yes, come in.” She responds, casting a glare towards you so you don’t get any ideas. You simply smile at her and lick your lips, trying to play innocent as the next customer comes inside. As Lingsha is talking however, you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off her, her cocks throbbing tantalizingly in front of you just begging for you to touch her.
It didn’t take long for you to grasp one of her shafts again and take the other one in your mouth, causing Lingsha to stutter mid sentence.
“Is something wrong Miss Lingsha?”
“N-No— nngh…everything is fine!”
Her thighs twitched as she felt your mouth engulf her bulbous tip, biting her bottom lip as she shot a messy load down your throat while the other one completely coated your hands in her cum. It was a miracle she even managed to keep quiet as she did, especially in front of another customer.
“Oh, alright then. So, I was looking for a remedy…”
As the customer trailed off, Lingsha subtly shot a glare at you from above the desk, watching as you licked up traces of her cum and cleaned her cocks up. Nevertheless, it was still quite a mess down there, but Lingsha had bigger things to worry about.
It will be a long day before her lunch break with you under there.
HERTA
“Madame Herta! Are you in there? Madame Herta?”
Furious knocks rapped at Herta’s office door, but the scientist didn’t utter a single peep. Too engrossed in showering you with affection as you sat on your mistress’ lap, all Herta could hear were the cute whines that left your throat and the lewd squelches of your cunt gripping her strap like it was the last one in the universe.
“Madame Herta! Your meeting is in half an hour!”
Herta simply rolled her eyes at her assistant’s frantic words. The other society members wouldn’t dare start the meeting without her, they could wait a little while longer while Herta busied herself with you. Yes, there’s no need to rush. Herta is just going to sit right here and have you squirm on her cock until you can't take it anymore. It had been weeks since she finally had the chance to be alone with you, and she wasn’t going to pull out anytime soon.
“…Herta?”
“Quiet now.” She tsks and drums her fingers against her desk, not even facing you as she was staring directly at the way her strap sucked deeper into your cunt. She chewed her bottom lip and noted how much slick was gathering at the base of her cock, the white ring surrounding the silicone making her imagine you cleaning it off with your mouth. ‘Her lips would look beautiful sucking me off…’ Herta wonders to herself ‘Maybe I can hide her under the table at the meeting…no, too risky. Ruan Mei would notice easily.’
“Herta…” You whine again, wanting her to pay attention to you. She was, technically speaking, but you wanted her to look at you instead of drooling over your pussy. “What is it, you needy girl?” Herta exhaled sharply, finally looking up at you and pinching your cheek. “I’m just admiring you for a second and you’re already complaining. Honestly, I should leave you here right now and not even bother to make you come.”
“No!” You exclaim desperately, clinging to her shoulders and looking up at her with big, teary eyes. Herta could be so mean to you sometimes! You just wanted her attention, and it didn’t help that she kept edging you instead of moving like she promised. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. Now you’re going to make me look like the bad guy.” Herta sighed and cupped your face, giving your cheek a small pinch. “I am merely teasing, little one. But I can see when you’ve had enough.”
She kissed your pouting, plump lips and shifted her hips, the snuggled strap on starting to plow into you at a shallow pace. The tip of the faux cock pounded relentlessly against that little bundle of nerves that had you arching your back. Oh how pretty you looked whining in front of Herta…your girlfriend had to hold herself back from reaching for her phone and taking a few photos of you bouncing. Tits in her face and your pussy creaming around her cock, Herta was starting to lose her cool.
“Mm, that’s right…bounce on my cock little one, you need to come don’t you? Come for me…” Herta gave your rear a tiny pat and pulled you in for a kiss, lost in tasting your tongue and swallowing up any moans you let out.
“Miss Herta!”
“Mmmph…five more minutes!” Herta pulled away from you with a growl in her tone, glaring at her assistant through the door as the string of saliva connecting you broke. “Tell the other members to wait just a little longer, I am finishing something important.”
Right on top of the papers that Herta needed for her meeting, she grabbed your waist and hoisted you up to sit at her desk, pounding you into the table and soiling her precious reports with your cum. She didn’t care, honestly. So long as she had proof of your private time together, Herta was satisfied.
#ruan mei smut#ruan mei x reader#feixiao smut#feixiao x reader#lingsha smut#lingsha x reader#herta smut#herta x reader#hsr smut#hsr x reader#hsr women smut#hsr women x reader#star rail smut#star rail x reader
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🔥 ASTRO OBSERVATIONS V: THE DARKEST SECRETS NO ONE WANTS TO ADMIT 🔥
This is not your basic astrology post. This is the raw truth, the obsession, the manipulation, the taboo. These are the secrets written in your chart that you don’t want anyone to know. But I see them. And now, so will everyone else.
🔪 1. Scorpio placements don’t “heal,” they just get better at hiding the damage. You’ll never see a Scorpio truly break down. They’ll self-destruct in private and come back looking stronger, colder, untouchable.
💋 2. Venus in Aries needs the thrill of the chase—but once they catch you, they’re already looking for their next target. The fun isn’t in keeping you, it’s in making you obsessed first.
🕷 3. Pluto in the 7th House doesn’t just attract toxic relationships, they ARE the toxic relationship. If you date them, you will never be the same. You might leave, but you won’t escape.
👄 4. People with Mercury square Pluto know exactly what to say to ruin you. One sentence, one whisper, one well-timed truth—and your entire world crumbles. They don’t argue. They just destroy.
🖤 5. Capricorn moons will mourn you while they’re still in the relationship. They don’t leave when they’re done loving you. They leave when they’ve already grieved your absence in their mind.
🔥 6. Lilith in the 8th House is a walking fantasy and a living nightmare. You will crave them, you will want to own them, and in the end? You will be consumed by them.
👁 7. People with Neptune in the 1st House don’t lie on purpose—they just don’t know who the fuck they are. Every personality they take on is real in the moment—but it won’t be real forever.
💔 8. Mars in the 12th House doesn’t show their anger—they absorb yours. The more you push them, the more it builds. And when it finally explodes? It’s over for you.
⛓ 9. Venus square Saturn can’t tell if they’re in love or in debt to someone. They’ll stay in relationships out of guilt, obligation, or karma long after the love is gone.
🩸 10. Pluto in the 1st House was born with a target on their back. People sense their power before they even speak, and they either want to control them, ruin them, or worship them.
💀 11. If you have Sun opposite Pluto, one of your parents wanted to be you, but couldn’t. Instead, they spent your childhood breaking you down so you’d never surpass them.
💋 12. Venus conjunct Mars people are either irresistible or repulsive—there’s no in-between. People either can’t get enough of them, or they feel deeply disturbed by their energy.
🩸 13. If you have Mars in the 8th House, you know what it’s like to almost kill someone in bed. Enough said.
💀 14. A Moon-Pluto person will love you deeper than anyone else—until they realize you’re not worth it. And when they leave? You’ll never find that depth again.
🕷 15. Chiron in the 7th House attracts lovers who stab them in their weakest spot. Every heartbreak feels like a personal betrayal. They love hard, and they get burned even harder.
💔 16. A Scorpio Venus will NEVER truly let go of you. You will live in the back of their mind, rotting there, forever.
🖤 17. People with Mars in Scorpio never fight fair. If you’ve pissed them off? You won’t even know they’re coming for you until it’s too late.
👁 18. Neptune in the 5th House makes people addicted to falling in love. They don’t love people—they love the feeling of love itself. The moment the illusion breaks, so does their desire.
🕯 19. Saturn in the 12th House comes into this life already tired. Their soul is carrying exhaustion from past lives, and they don’t even know why.
🩸 20. Pluto in the 5th House creates artists that make pain beautiful. They take their trauma and turn it into something that haunts others.
🔥 21. People with Mars in Leo will NEVER forget the one person who rejected them. They could be adored by millions, but the ONE who didn’t bow? That’s the one who haunts them.
🩸 22. If you have Venus in the 12th House, your love life will always feel like a tragic love story. The person you love most? You’ll never fully have them.
🕷 23. Moon in the 8th House people know things about you that you don’t even know about yourself. They can read your soul, your wounds, your fears. And you’ll never understand how.
💔 24. A South Node in the 7th House was born to learn how to be alone. Every relationship will break them down until they learn to choose themselves first.
💀 25. Saturn in the 5th House people never felt like children, even when they were kids. They were born into responsibility, and life has never truly felt light.
🔥 26. Lilith in the 1st House women don’t attract attention—they COMMAND it. People will stare, obsess, and fear them, all without knowing why.
💋 27. Pluto conjunct Venus people will either be the best thing that’s ever happened to you, or the worst. They either heal you, or they leave you scarred for life.
🖤 28. Uranus in the 7th House people attract lovers who come out of nowhere and disappear just as fast. Their love life is a never-ending storm.
💀 29. If someone has Pluto square their Moon, they have an unresolved war with their mother. And it will bleed into every relationship they ever have.
🔥 30. The darkest part of your chart is where you hold the most power. Until you own it? It will own you.
👁 So? Did I hit you where it hurts?
🔥 Drop your placements. Let’s see who’s brave enough to admit the truth..
© PhoenixRisingAstro, 2025. All rights reserved
#astro placements#astrology#astro community#astro observations#astrology content#astrology observations#pluto astrology#solar return#vedic astrology#astro notes#natal chart#natal aspects#astrology notes
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I started working in “reasons” for things to be imperfect into all my projects.
Designing a floor plan for Wayne Manor? It’s drawn with pen on graphing paper, so it can’t look professional. All the things that I can see are unrealistic? It’s on GRAPHING PAPER, amateurism is to be expected!
Making pretty playing cards? I might have put a LOT of work into their fronts, but they’re attached together with double sided sticky tape and aren’t laminated. So the fact that things aren’t identical across the cards is FINE, this was just for fun. I can smile at them and enjoy their weight and colours, they’re more prototypes than a finished product.
Spent 3 years on this project? I’m sharing it with Tumblr. It’s just a fan-thing, it’s okay if there are holes. When people criticize it I can remind them that I did it in my spare time, for free, and then shared it HERE. They can be grateful for getting not-nothing, or they can leave me alone, thank you!
Starting a blog with a posting schedule, my ADHD kryptonite? Include sections that explicitly state that they will update ‘when I get around to it’, to prepare myself for the inevitable missed days. I haven’t updated my stats for a month, and that’s fine, so posting late for the 4th time isn’t a big deal.
-
I’m slowly regaining the ability to care about things and not sabotage myself. It’s been a long journey. But even HAVING something with a posting schedule? A year ago that would have been impossible. Committing to any sort of time-based accountability has been my greatest fear for DECADES. Now it seems doable.
On the other hand, my most recent floor plan is in a program that can make it look a lot nicer, and I haven’t touched it in months.
Maybe I need to add some stress-reducing dumb stuff to it.
Friendly reminder to not punish yourself for creating.
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No Thinking
billie eilish x reader
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
summary: you break a "rule" and billie deals with you.
warnings: basically pure smut, mean!billie, dumbification, teasing, overstimulation, pussy slaps, crying
words: 1163
a/n: katebishopsbaefy posting three times in one week?? unheard of💩 but i've had an ear infection all week so i've had lots of time to write!! i also have a few asks, so those'll hopefully get done soon. please keep sending them they're so much fun!! also billie's haircut looks so good?? i don't understand why we're all hating???
Billie's been away for the past few weeks, out on her tour with her friends. Of course, you’ve loved seeing her so happy and excited to be on the road for once, but that doesn’t mean you hadn’t missed her terribly. You’d been so lonely all alone in the big house, and all of those photos and videos in your hidden folder had just been too tempting; you couldn’t resist.
You and Billie had made a half-assed agreement a while ago about not touching yourselves when the other was away. It wasn’t really meant to be a real rule; it was just something you’d seen on some porn website, and you thought it might be fun to try.
You definitely hadn’t thought it all the way through.
When she came home, just a little over two hours ago, things had gotten heated between you so quickly. Her lips were all over your mouth, your neck, your chest, anywhere she could reach.
“God, I missed you s’much” she mumbled against your cleavage as she sucked a dark purple bruise into the soft skin. You tugged on her dark hair, and whatever response you’d been about to mutter quickly turned into a gasp when you felt her start to swirl her tongue around your nipple, and then suck sharply. She must’ve really missed you.
She’d settled you on the bed, all fluffed up with blankets and pillows. She might’ve missed you, she might’ve wanted you so bad she could’ve burst, but she’d always make sure you’re comfortable first. You'd kissed for a while until she’d gotten too impatient to wait, so she kissed her way down your body, between your breasts, across your stomach, ending with some soft sucks to your thighs. She gently pushed them open, and mumbled against them, “You been good f’me?”
You understood exactly what she meant. No, you haven’t been good for her. It was just so hard, having no one to touch you for weeks. You had to do it yourself…but all you’ve ever wanted was to be good for her, so you nodded your head, your mumbled words coming out more slurred and sloppy than hers, “Mhm. Been good, promise.”
But when she’d feel the slight resistance of you trying to keep your legs shut, you knew you’d been caught. “C’mon, babygirl… lemme see,” she murmured in that soft, but patronizing tone that always had you stuttering and blushing. And of course, you folded.
Her hands slowly pushed your thighs apart, revealing your soaking wet heat. Her eyes had visibly darkened, her finger traced up and down your slit. It was like she’d forgotten that she was teasing you for a moment, so entranced by you, so unable to keep her hands off of you. An audibly shaky breath would pull her back to reality.
She’d slowly pushed a finger in you as her eyes met yours, and you’d immediately recognized that look on her face. She’d seen right through your lie. She’d be able to feel it.
“Aw, baby…”, she murmured in that tone, the one that made it feel like she was talking down to you (which she was). Her finger gently felt around, enough to make you clench, but she’d still been able to tell what you’d done. “Feels like you’ve been touchin’ yourself… have you? You been stretchin’ out your needy little hole while I was gone?”
Your head was nodding along before you even realized what was happening. It’s just the way she talks to you, like she’s poking fun. It folds you right in half.
Billie softly clicked her tongue at you, and the tears sprang into your eyes when her finger traveled to your clit. She’d gotten you right where she wanted you; so overwhelmed you can't even think. And it’d only been a few minutes of teasing.
“You know the rules. Couldn’t’ve waited a few days f’me to get back? You’re that needy?” she teased, and you whined, already slipping into that headspace she loves to put you in where all you can do is feel.
When her finger started to trace circles into your clit, you whined again and gazed up at her with dark, tearful eyes. “I-I’m sor-”, you started, but she cut you off with a sharp slap to your cunt. One physical act of humiliation among a sea of verbal jabs. You whimpered and jolted like usual, immediately closing your mouth.
“Nuh uh, no thinkin’, baby. Too dumb f’that right now. Just needa have your pussy fixed…”, she mumbled so sweetly, so cruelly, and you shivered at the implication. She was going to make you come until you were tight again.
She rubbed your clit until you were shaking and crying, making you finish one, two, three times. Making you finish until she was satisfied.
And now, after what’s felt like hours of abuse on your clit, she’s finally decided to move on.
She pulls her finger away, and gently taps your nub with it, just to watch your legs twitch. To make sure you're sensitive enough. Her finger finds its way back down to your hole, gently pushing into you in a way that makes you tense and whimper. And she grins that stupid, cheesy, lopsided grin that makes your stomach flip. She looks so sweet, but so mean.
Her fingers wrap around yours, leading your hand down your body until she’s separating your middle and ring finger from the rest. Before you even know what's happening, she’s guiding your two fingers into your pussy, and a matching pair of her fingers are holding the back of yours to force them against that spot that makes you see stars. Of course, you whine and squirm, much too overwhelmed and overstimulated to have four fingers pressed into you. You’re too tight to be so full. But, of course, she holds you down.
“Mmm… now you’re all nice ‘nd tight again. Feel it, babygirl?”, she teases, her voice dripping with soft cruelty as she fucks your fingers into you. When you don’t respond, she takes her thumb and grinds it against your swollen clit, hard enough to make you jolt and scream. Eyes fly open and fill with a fresh set of tears as you nod at her. Your chest rises and falls heavily with each breath, your hair is all messy from so much squirming, your red eyes brim with tears, and the sight just makes her groan.
“Think we gotta stretch you out again, mama,” she murmurs, her lips finding their way to your cheek to kiss away your tears. It’s so sickly sweet compared to the way she’s started to pound into you. You hadn’t even realized, but she’d pulled your fingers out and replaced them with all four of her own, intent on making you scream and cry until you passed out. And after just a few more rounds, she succeeds.
Maybe you should’ve thought twice about making that dumb rule with her.
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KF: "I thought we were getting on well, Mando! I haven't even joked about taking young Grogu off your hands in so long. What did I do to make you want to roast me alive from the inside out all of a sudden? Although I do hear that "from the inside" is a favourite method of yours to deal with toothy enemies." DD: "I guess they don't have many spices underwater."
The alleged (attempted) murder weapon in question:
@hastalavistabyebye had the fantastic idea that tiingilar would be a fun replacement for nectar (more on this in the monthly update post, but right now it's a stand in for Ambrosia instead) - and I just thought that all that spice and heat might disagree with Kit of all people more than a little XD
This is what he deserves for cracking jokes about taking Grogu fishing (let Din have some time for himself - accompanied by some eyebrow ridge wagging). For some very dangerous and posinous fish. Needless to say, Din wasn't happy about those.
#kit fisto#hades AU#my art#digital art#star wars fanart#sw fanart#tcw fanart#sw tcw#sw#tiingilar#star wars#I'm warming up (lol) more and more to my tiingilar drawing#will have to come up with something to replace nectar with though now
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What History?
— 𓆩𓆪 —
𓆩 Lee Byung-Hun x F!reader 𓆪
Summary — Squid Game fans have been shipping two actors not knowing they have a history together.
A/N — aaaa, writer’s block is killing me. but the reqs i've been getting is starting to help. i promise i’m currently drafting for the other reqs.
request post
— 𓆩𓆪 —
The room was brightly lit, cameras positioned at every angle, and a familiar nervousness settled in the pit of your stomach. You weren’t new to interviews, but something about these promotional videos always made you a little jittery. Maybe it was the anticipation of how fans would react, or maybe it was the fact that sitting next to you was none other than Lee Byung-hun—your former high school boyfriend and now your co-star in Squid Game Season 2.
The two of you walked into the room together, followed by director Hwang Dong-hyuk, who greeted the crew with a casual nod.
“Alright,” a staff member announced. “We’re shooting two videos today. The first segment is watching fan edits, and the second is reading fan letters. Just react naturally, have fun, and remember—no breaking into hysterics.”
Byung-hun chuckled beside you. “That sounds like a challenge.”
You smirked. “You sound scared.”
“I might as well be. Have you seen those AI edits of me and Lee Jung-jae?”
The staff gestured for silence, signaling that the cameras were rolling. You introduced yourself to the camera, followed by Byung-hun and Dong-hyuk. The screen before you flickered to life, and the first video started playing.
The first edit was cinematic—a high-energy montage of Squid Game 2’s most intense moments. Gunfights, chase sequences, close-ups of steely gazes. It had everything. The booming orchestral soundtrack made every scene feel ten times more dramatic.
Byung-hun let out an impressed whistle. “Did we actually shoot something this cool?”
You nodded. “Because I don’t remember looking this badass.”
Dong-hyuk leaned forward, squinting. “Wait—when did you do that roll behind cover?”
You snorted. “That’s the one where I landed wrong and bruised my entire arm.”
Byung-hun grinned. “Ohhh, right. And you tried to play it off like you meant to do it.”
“I did mean to do it.”
Dong-hyuk shook his head. “That’s not what you said when you screamed in pain afterward.”
Byung-hun burst into laughter. Your light punch to his side silenced him, earning a dramatic yelp.
“Give respect to your elders!”
You gave the camera a look. “He’s so dramatic. We’re literally only one year apart.”
The next edit was a deep dive into In-ho’s past, set in black and white with emotional piano music. It contrasted his life as a police officer with his role as the Front Man, highlighting the tragedy of his choices.
Dong-hyuk hummed thoughtfully. “This fan basically made a better teaser than we did.”
Byung-hun nodded. “Can we hire them?”
You pointed at a particular shot. “This scene—this is when you had to retake your mask removal, what, twenty times?”
Byung-hun groaned. “Ugh. The mask kept getting caught on my hood. Every time I tried to look dramatic, I just looked stuck.”
Dong-hyuk chuckled. “We had to cut out three takes where you sighed right into the mask.”
Byung-hun held up his hands. “No need to expose me like that.”
Then came the brainrot edit. An animation of Squid Game characters dancing to some bizarre, upbeat song.
You had the biggest grin—too silly not to laugh. The video didn’t even make sense.
Dong-hyuk had his brows furrowed, an amused but not entirely entertained smile on his face.
Byung-hun, on the other hand, sat perfectly still, eyes locked on the screen. No one could tell what he was thinking.
When it ended, you all exchanged an awkward glance.
“I mean… I like it. It’s an interesting video,” you said, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes, still laughing.
Dong-hyuk fixed his glasses. “Is this what people see when they watch my show?”
Byung-hun crossed his arms. “They didn’t do me justice. Why is the Front Man not included in this video?”
The staff smirked. “Don’t worry, there’s a Front Man edit in the next one.”
The next video was different. The music was softer, the pacing slower. It highlighted your character’s interactions with In-ho—subtle glances, moments of hesitation, scenes where your characters moved in sync. It wasn’t obvious in the actual show, but with the way the editor framed it…
It almost looked like something was going on.
Byung-hun blinked. “What’s this?”
Dong-hyuk raised an eyebrow. “They created scenes that aren’t even in the series.”
You squinted. “Are we too old to understand what this is?”
It was a ship edit.
Silence.
Then, Byung-hun let out a slow, amused chuckle. “Well. That was unexpected.”
Dong-hyuk crossed his arms. “You two do have really natural chemistry.”
You cleared your throat. “I mean, our characters have history, so—”
Byung-hun nodded. “Right, right. Former police officers.”
Dong-hyuk hummed. “Well, I had another love interest in mind for In-ho, but thinking about it… your characters being shipped makes sense. Maybe I should make it canon in Season 3.”
Both you and Byung-hun snapped your heads toward him.
“Huh?!”
The crew erupted into laughter. Dong-hyuk smiled and closed the segment with a thank-you and a Squid Game 2 promotion.
After a quick makeup touch-up, a staff member placed a stack of envelopes in front of you, Byung-hun, and Dong-hyuk.
Dong-hyuk stretched his arms and grinned. “Alright, let’s see what the fans have to say. If anyone insults my writing, I’m walking out.”
Byung-hun smirked. “I’d say you’re bluffing, but we all know you’re dramatic enough to do it.”
You laughed. “Place your bets, everyone. How many letters will be about Byung-hun’s attractiveness?”
Byung-hun scoffed. “Excuse me, I am a serious actor. Not just a handsome face.”
The cameras rolled.
You picked up the first letter and smoothed it out before reading aloud.
‘Dear Director Hwang, your storytelling is a masterpiece. Every scene feels like it has so much depth and emotion. How do you come up with such gripping narratives?’
Dong-hyuk’s face lit up. “Ah, A letter for me!”
Byung-hun immediately reached over, fingers grasping at the paper. “Skip it.”
You swatted his hand away. “No, let him have his moment.”
Dong-hyuk straightened his posture, adjusting his jacket with mock importance. “Well, since you asked… My process is simple. I think, ‘What is the most stressful, painful situation I can put my characters in?’ And then I do that.”
Byung-hun leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “I knew you enjoyed torturing us.”
Dong-hyuk grinned. “Absolutely.”
Byung-hun exhaled, then grabbed the next letter from the pile, unfolding it.
‘Was filming action scenes difficult? Especially the parkour scenes.’
You didn’t hesitate. “Oh, definitely. That scene where I had to jump from bed to bed? I had bruises for days.”
Byung-hun winced at the memory. “Oh yeah, you took a pretty bad fall.”
You sighed dramatically, throwing your arms up. “And no one even said ‘cut’ when I landed wrong! I had to just lie there in pain.”
Dong-hyuk raised a hand in defense. “Okay, to be fair, it looked intentional.”
Byung-hun let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head. “You heard it here first, folks. The director is a masochist.”
Dong-hyuk smirked. “It builds character.”
Byung-hun rubbed his temple. “I worry for your future wife.”
You sifted through the pile and grabbed the next letter.
‘To Byung-hun, was it difficult wearing the Front Man’s mask for long periods of time? It looks heavy.’
Byung-hun groaned dramatically, flopping against the back of his chair. “Oh, you have no idea.”
Dong-hyuk snorted. “He complained about it every single day.”
Byung-hun sat up, pointing at him. “Because it was a legitimate problem! The mask was so heavy, and it pressed into my face so much that I had red marks after every shoot.”
You bit back a laugh. “And let’s not forget the time it got stuck.”
Byung-hun groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Oh, please, let’s forget that.”
Dong-hyuk smirked. “We have footage.”
Byung-hun immediately turned to the camera, eyes pleading. “Dear editors, if you have any mercy, don’t include that clip.”
They did.
Dong-hyuk chuckled and grabbed the next letter. “‘Director Hwang, who is your favorite character in Squid Game?’”
He let out a dramatic sigh. “Yikes. That’s like asking me to pick my favorite child.”
Byung-hun smirked. “But we all know you have a favorite.”
Dong-hyuk tapped his fingers against the table, pretending to contemplate. “Well… I have a soft spot for In-ho.”
Byung-hun gasped, clutching his chest as if he’d been struck. “You love me?”
Dong-hyuk’s deadpan stare didn’t waver. “I said I love In-ho. Not you.”
You burst into laughter as Byung-hun recoiled in mock betrayal. “Wow, I won’t return to Season 3 then.”
Dong-hyuk ignored him, his expression thoughtful. “I love complex characters, and In-ho has so much depth. There’s still so much left to explore with him.”
You leaned in. “So, does that mean he’s safe in Season 3?”
Dong-hyuk smirked. “I mean, it’s possible, but I don’t know. We’ll have to find out.”
Byung-hun cut in, laughing. “What do you mean you don’t know? You created the story.”
Dong-hyuk simply shrugged. “Let’s just say… No one is ever truly safe.”
The next letter Byung-hun picked up seemed harmless at first.
‘I don’t know what it is, but…’
He stopped mid-sentence, chuckling as he glanced at the camera, then at you and Dong-hyuk. “I don’t know if I can continue reading this without someone getting mad.”
Silence fell over the room.
Curious, you snatched the letter from his hands and scanned it. A laugh bubbled out of you. “Who’s gonna get mad over this?”
Byung-hun gave you a knowing look, subtly hinting at someone you had dated during filming.
Your expression faltered for half a second before you quickly masked it with a tight smile. Keeping your mouth hidden from the camera, you mouthed, “We broke up.”
Dong-hyuk grinned and leaned forward to peek at the letter over your shoulder. “Well, well, well. They think you two have some history together because you make the characters so compelling together.”
Byung-hun cleared his throat, spitting out a joke before anyone could dwell on the comment. “Have you guys ever considered we are both just very good actors?”
Dong-hyuk stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. “Seeing how everybody seems to ship you two, maybe I should create a romance movie with you both.”
You and Byung-hun turned to him in horror, simultaneously shaking your heads.
Dong-hyuk simply shrugged. “What? The fans love it. I should give them what they want.”
Byung-hun laughed nervously and quickly faced the camera. “Okay let's end it! Thank you for watching this video. Don’t forget to watch us on Netflix!”
After finishing the shoot, the three of you parted ways—but the internet did not.
A week after the video was published, fans went crazy. The shipping theories got worse. Your social media was flooded with comments. Multiple media outlets invited you and Byung-hun for interviews together, riding the hype.
One afternoon, before another press event, you texted him.
Want to grab coffee before the next interview?
Thought you’d never ask.
At the café, he took a sip of his drink and smirked. “Remember how broke we were from getting coffee every other day in high school?”
You groaned. “Oh god, that was what? Twenty—no, thirty years ago? High school was rough. I don’t even want to remember that.”
“You’re mean. So I meant nothing to you?” He feigned hurt, holding back a smile.
“Oh, shush. You know what I mean.” You playfully pushed his forehead as he held the door open for you. “Besides, we lasted ‘til university, no—”
Click.
A camera shutter.
You froze. He froze.
Through the café window, a crowd had formed. Some held up phones. Others were whispering excitedly.
Fuck. They found you.
Byung-hun exhaled. “Well, I guess there’s no turning back.”
Then, with a smirk, he grabbed your hand, laced his fingers through yours, and yanked you out of the sea of screaming fans.
#lee byung hun#hwang in ho#x reader#fluff#front man#squid game#in ho#in ho x reader#lee byung hun x reader
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Interviewing chaos || G!P Beth Mead x reader
Request | Masterlist
Warning G!P content, blow job, risk of getting caught
Summary You tease Beth when she’s in the middle of an interview
A/N first time writing a G!P fic, let me know how I did 🫶🏻 I’d be willing to write more G!P players :)
“Love, my interview started in a five so I’m gonna be in the office for a quite a while.” Beth said, bringing you through a cup of tea.
“Okay, baby. Have fun.” You winked, Beth smiling back before running up the stairs.
You were gonna make sure Beth had fun, and you knew exactly how.
To set a backstory, Beth had woken you up with sloppy kisses on your neck.
The kisses got more passionate until you and Beth were pretty much naked, your bodies flush against each other.
Just as it was about to get more intense, Beth’s alarm rang, reminding her of the interview she forgot she had.
She got up, rushing around, leaving you all hot and bothered.
You got up and started your day though, keeping in mind an idea that could help get revenge on Beth.
And ironically, Beth had forgotten her coffee downstairs so you took it upon yourself to take it to her.
You creaked open the door to see Beth talking to the lady over her lap top.
Your plan was coming together.
You tiptoed in, placing the coffee on the table before falling to your knees.
Beth gave you a confused look, having a slight idea what you might be up to.
“Is everything alright, Beth?” The interviewer asked, Beth nodding immediately before gulping.
“Yeah, perfect. Sorry, what were you saying?”
The interview continued, Beth trying her hardest not to look down at you.
Beth’s breath hitched as your hand made contact with her.
Your hand slipped under her shorts, slightly pulling them down as your fingers wrapped around her.
Beth started speaking with her teeth slightly gritted, that way she couldn’t release a moan.
Your hand pumped up and down her length, Beth’s whole body stiffening at your actions.
You stopped for a split second, bringing your mouth to hover over her dick.
You took the tip of her dick into your mouth, sucking gently before taking her whole length.
You gagged silently as her tip touched the back of your throat.
Beth’s hand tangled on your hair, guiding you up and down the length of her dick.
You could feel Beth’s dick throbbing now, desperate to release.
Beth let out a ragged sigh as she tried her hardest not to moan.
“Are you sure everything’s okay?” The interview asked again.
“Actually, can I just have two minute?” Beth quickly said, the interviewer nodding.
Beth immediately put the lap top on silent, angling the lap top away from herself.
“Fuck.” Beth cursed, watching you take her dick into your mouth. “Gonna make me cum soon, huh? Gonna be my good girl and make me cum.”
Beth’s grip in your hair tightened, giving you an indication that she was close.
“Shit. I’m coming.” Beth groaned, filling your throat up with her cum.
Her hips thrusted into your mouth one last time as her hips stilled.
You swallowed, giving Beth a look of contentment.
You let her dick fall from your mouth, Beth quickly pulling her shorts back up.
“As much as I love you doing that, please never do it in the middle of an interview.” Beth sighed, pecking your lips.
“No promises.”
#woso#woso community#woso imagine#womens football#woso fanfics#woso smut#beth mead x reader#beth mead smut#beth mead#woso x reader
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Phainon & Mydei as your Husbands (Headcanons)
Pairing: Phainon x Female Reader x Mydei
Fandom: HSR (Honkai Star Rail)
Warnings: None
☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆
Masterlist - Honkai Star Rail
Masterlist - Genshin Impact
Moodboards - Genshin Impact
Boycott List
Valentines Special 2025
☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆
English isn’t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.
I do NOT own any Characters !
Have fun reading this :D
Art by: @2__0__9 on X (Twitter)
The Quiet, Observant Lover
Phainon is the type to watch and analyze before acting, always knowing exactly what you need before you even ask. He’s the kind to notice small details, like if you had a stressful day just from the way you carry herself.
Unshakably Calm
While Mydei might be more intense, Phainon remains calm and reassuring—the kind of partner who grounds the relationship and ensures stability.
Tactician in Romance
He plans everything meticulously, from elegant dates to well-thought-out gifts. When he does touch you, it’s purposeful and intimate, like a lingering hand on your waist or a slow caress on your cheek.
Knows When to Step Back
If Mydei is in a passionate, possessive mood, Phainon will simply smirk and let him have his moment.
Art by: @Kashiko_0911 on X (Twitter)
Possessive & Fiercely Protective
Mydei is the type of lover who openly claims you, wrapping an arm around your waist and challenging anyone who even dares to look at you for too long. He doesn’t share lightly—except with Phainon, whom he trusts completely.
Hot-Headed but Deeply Affectionate
Mydei is bold and physical. Expect intense kisses, possessive marks, and whispered words of devotion. He wants you to know you’re wanted, loved, and cherished.
Jealous but Playful
If you spend too much time with Phainon, Mydei will dramatically sulk—only for Phainon to tease him about it. He might pull you onto his lap, just to prove a point.
Acts Tough but actually a Softie
Mydei puts up a strong, almost regal front, but if you ask him sweetly for something, he melts instantly. "Tch. Fine, but only because it’s you."
Art by: @pin3909 on X (Twitter)
Good Balance
Mydei is passion, spontaneity, and heat, while Phainon is control, calculation, and patience. You get the best of both worlds—one moment, you‘re in a whirlwind of fiery kisses and possessive words, the next, you‘re held gently by Phainon as he whispers something soothing in your ear.
Secretly Competitive
Phainon and Mydei would have silent competitions over who can make you blush more. Mydei goes for bold, public affection, while Phainon uses subtle, private gestures—like whispering something sinful in your ear while keeping a straight face.
An United Front
If someone dares to threaten or insult you, both of them will handle it—Mydei head-on with fire and fury, while Phainon coldly and methodically dismantles the enemy behind the scenes. You‘re never in danger with them around.
They Let You Decide
If you‘re feeling playful, you could make them compete for your attention—something Mydei finds amusing but takes very seriously, while Phainon just gives a knowing smile and waits for the right moment to steal your attention back effortlessly.
Now I want them fr (˶˃⤙˂˶)
Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽
#HSR#Honkai Star Rail#HSR Phainon#HSR Mydei#Phainon HSR#Mydei HSR#Honkai Star Rail Phainon#Honkai Star Rail Mydei#Phainon Honkai Star Rail#Mydei Honkai Star Rail#Phainon x Reader#Mydei x Reader#Reader x Phainon#Reader x Mydei#Phainon x Y/n#Mydei x Y/n#Y/n x Phainon#Y/n x Mydei#Yandere Phainon#Yandere Mydei#Yandere Phainon x Reader#Yandere Mydei x Reader#Yandere Phainon x Y/n#Yandere Mydei x Y/n#Amphoreus#Amphoreus x Reader#Amphoreus x Y/n#Yandere Amphoreus#Mydei x Phainon#Phainon x Mydei
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hello! may be a weird request but do you have any fanfic recommendations?
BUCKLE THE FUCK UP
OH DO I HAVE SOME RECS FOR YA'LL
Mind you, 90% are based on personal preference and fics I think about way too often than I should. A lot of them influenced the way I make characters interact
Some of them might not be your taste and that's cool!
First off, Gotta promote the fics that people wrote inspired by my art (I am truly honored)
Time Cast A Spell On You by bethefirstwhoeverdid
Cabin of Feathers by Featherpie (Izupie)
Return To The Past by faeryn
NOW FOR MY COLLECTION
Just any fic written by everandanon
I swear to you, all of their fics are worth a read. They are frustrating (In a good way for me) but the worldbuilding, comedy, dialogue, and character interactions always have me physically getting up and laughing. At one point during Quarentantion, I had to stop reading to rant to my friends about it because it made me feel so much that I went to 3 different friends about it. With Interest actually made my heart physically hurt at certain points. Expectations had me on a roller coaster ride But if you think their fics are a little overwhelming, I recommend reading Casicorn. It's the first ever fic I read from them and it solidified my love for this author. I swear I am on my hands and KNEES waiting for them to finish their newest fic
Where All My Journeys End - (a Twist and Shout alt universe) by Say_It_In_Enochian
Did reading Twist and Shout devastate you? Did it emotionally hurt your heart and make you wish there was something to make the pain lighter? READ THIS FUCKING FIC NOW I got so fucking lucky when I found it immediately after reading T&S and when I tell you the JOURNEY this fic took me? It healed my soul The struggles, the history, the relationships, the LONG fight to get to their happy ending I am FLOORED this doesn't have 1000 Kudos!
The Ed Sheeran Effect by tricia_16
It made me laugh. That's it. It's sweet and funny and really fun and just feels very campy, like it could've been a decent movie I would rewatch on days I just feel like feeling good Am I a sucker for HighSchool/College AU fics? Yes do I fucking care? No
The Best Years of Our Lives, My Ass by ireallyhatecornnuts (CharleyFoxtrot)
I. fucking. love. this. fic The story alone was so interesting but it was the DIALOGUE that hooked me in. I swear I think about this fic in the middle of drawing and go "Damn, good times" like it's a long lost friend
Slide Away by Castielslostwings
It's the TENSION that got me. I can't explain to you how much I just love their hate-pining for each other Read it, love it, in my digital bookshelf
Sleep Without You by turningthepages
Hilarious. The density is so high it could float. I swear to god I've read this fic at least three times and think about it once a week I remember reading it and cackling so much that I woke up my mom
Should've Just Asked by Annie D (scaramouche)
I wish this fic had a follow-up that was just Dean's perspective because I would LOVE to read more of it. The situation is so absurd and I binged it all in one day (I'm a very slow reader)
Pinfall by crowleyo
I'm gonna say it. I'm so actually angry this fic doesn't get enough attention. It is so so SO well-written and heart-wrenching. Am I still a sucker for highschool sweethearts? YES! I OPENLY ADMIT THIS! But COME ON
Of fuming and partaking and so on by zation
This fic and literally any fic from Zation. I absolutely love the way this author writes. It's so funny and self-aware and the dialogue and scenarios always keep me entertained and laughing They have such a large catalog of fics that I'm pretty sure I have at least 15 saved on my phone
Mr. Blue Sky by anyrei, queerwolf79
This fic specifically and literally ANYTHING from these two. I swear, a lot of their fics are certified bangers. Mr. Blue Sky is probably a personal favorite of mine cause I actually teared up
Love Me More by Saiorse_Irvyne
I'm not the biggest fan of A/B/O stuff, but MAN this has me feeling things. When a fic makes me feel strong emotions, I just gotta recommend it
Lock and Key by tricia_16
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH it's THAT good
Kind Of A Forever Deal by komodobits
It's FUN. It's FUNNY. It's so fucking campy and cute and the progression of their relationship was just AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
It's Always the End of the World Somewhere by Annie D (scaramouche)
I can sit here and recommend Annie D's fics all DAY, but I'm recommending this one specifically because of this: “Get a room, assholes,” someone mutters. “Hey!” Crowley whirls on the offender. “I could set on you on fire!” And that's one of many fantastic quotes
Cinderwings by bendingsignpost
One of the first fics I've ever read from this fandom, and I recommend it to ANYONE regardless of whether they know Destiel or not. The story is so fucking captivating it makes me want to eat my foot it's so GOOD
--------------
Do I have a type when it comes to fanfics? Yes
But I like gravitating towards funny dialogue and silly shenanigans. I thrive off of fun fics that sometimes take themselves seriously, but still pull me back and make me laugh
If a fic can make me feel such a strong emotion that I PHYSICALLY have to get up? Then fuck yeah it's going in my archives
I would recommend some of the darker fics I have, but this is for fun
#deancas#destiel#castiel#dean winchester#dean x castiel#cj fanfic recs#destiel fanfic#fanfic#ao3 fanfic#ao3#ao3 writer#fanfiction
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Oh I adore getting your reblogs! It's always so fun getting to read someone's thoughts about things! But I'm also so happy that you enjoyed this one!
more for you!
Many thoughts...
He’s never been able to resist a bad girl wrapped up like the girl-next-door.
I can 100% see that-- that man never stood a chance! he likes to play the game, especially when the girl he's interested in is leading the way 🤭
He knew how good his biceps looked in the short sleeves of his uniform. And the way his pants clung to his legs and ass. He’d been spending a lot of his free time in the gym lately and it showed.
Yeah, let's show it off 😌-- he's such a slut (affectionate)! but if you ask him he'd just say he's a feminist and doing it for the female gaze, lmao
He wanted that smile turned on him. Wanted to see if the look in your bright eyes would be just as playful with your gaze pinned on him instead. He wanted to be the one making you laugh.
A man on a mission-- my favorite little attention whore
It’s not like he’s going to go over there and lick your face like a kid might try and claim dibs on a cupcake.
Lmao that would be funny though 😅-- maybe next time, lmaooo. but also he knows what he's bringing to the able and backs himself all the way, he's not afraid of a little competition (not that there is any, haha)
Bradley’s never been one to shy away from making an entrance.
Oh, we all know 😅-- the cockwalk alone deserved an oscar
“Well, shucks,” you say with an over exaggerated shrug. “What about if I said I was roped into waking up at an ungodly hour to catch a flight up here because my best friend’s boyfriend is a Naval aviator and she wanted me to keep her company for the ‘casual five-hour cruise’, as you called it.” “Now that I believe,” he drawled. “So, what’s his name?” “Well, she calls him Jacob. He has one of those silly callsigns too, but I always forget it,” you scrunch your nose adorably as you search for it, “Something-man.” “You mean Bagman?” “Yeah, that sounds right.”
A woman teasing Jake? Bradley is probably thinking about proposing right then and there😅-- the easiest way to win over bradley bradshaw is to dunk on jake at any given opportunity, lol
“A private tour? Lucky me,” you purr. “Lead the way Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.” You knew what you were doing, he’d give you that. And he was eating it up with a spoon ready to ask for second, third, and fourth helpings.
😌🤭😌🤭-- she's got him soooo wrapped around her finger, and good for her it's what she deserves!
And he knows he shouldn’t, that he could get in some big trouble for showing you areas that weren’t explicitly on the official list of tour stops. But he’s always been more of the apologize later type. Plus, he hasn’t been on this ship for very long, it’s not his fault if he manages to get conveniently turned around.
Definitely not his fault 🤷🏻♀️😅-- he's innocent your honor!
You reach up and run a playful finger along the brim of his cap, “So what’s a girl got to do to get a turn wearing the hat?” His mind flashes with images of the last time he’d let a woman wear it. “I’ll have you know this is technically Naval property, they don’t let just anyone have one. You usually have to earn it. But for you?” he pauses and gives you a heated once over, “I’ll let you try it on for free.”
His hat has probably been worn by multiple women before 🤭-- that hat has definitely seen some action that's for sure, lmao. and who he is who deny anyone who wants to try it on for size 🤭
He likes that you want to know these details about his job, he likes that he gets to share this with you. Even if the clock is ticking down before he has to get back on deck.
That's so cute 😍-- he doesn't often get to share this side of things so indepthly with anyone, he's definitely not missing his moment here!
“It represents strong ties, baby. It’s a symbol for the supportive partners and wives of those serving onboard,” he whispers low and sweet into your ear. “Bradley,” you sigh as you turn your head towards him for a kiss. It’s desperate and wet. And he can almost taste the neediness of your moan on his tongue. He’s never done anything like this while on duty on a ship before, and the thrill of it has his veins thrumming with adrenaline.
There always has to be a first time 😌-- the man likes to live on the edge! the adrenaline rush of it all! plus everyone else is busy, and it is called the ready room after all haha
“You’ve had me hook, line and sinker since the damn second I saw you.” He grinds himself against your ass and you whimper at the contact. “What do you want from me? I’ll be so good to you, so good for you.” “Fuck me.” He can feel his pulse thundering in his throat. “I’m trying to,” you whine.
Oh I bet he does 🤭🤤-- we all know that man doesn't half ass anything and we thank him for his service!
And he’ll sure as shit never be able to be in a Ready Room again without getting a hard-on. The memory of you bent over the table before him will forever be ingrained in his brain.
🤭🤭🤭-- she's definitely made a lasting impression on him!
“I see you found your gift early, baby.”
Ahhhh omg-- i love a good twist!! and this one is one of my favorites!! 🤭🤭🤭
Bradley would never forget the first time he saw you that night at the bar downtown last year during Fleet Week. He had noticed you right away, it had been impossible not to. You and your girlfriends had been all done up in hot pink outfits for the Bachelorette party you were out celebrating. Your friend had flounced right up to Jake taking the shot of whiskey out of his hand before swallowing it down then cheekily offering to buy him a replacement. Hangman had been wrapped around her finger ever since.
Love that they both met each other's partners on the same night out 😅-- i ended up writing about the night they met! if you ever want to read it it's called "wildest dreams"! it's another cheeky and fun one, but I loved getting to explore just what happened the night they met!
He could never be mad at you, especially not with his necklace around your neck. You were his, and he was so gone for you. “It looks so pretty on you,” he tells you softly as his fingers brush over your collarbones.
Oh he is so in love🥰-- he's so down bad!
“Oh my god, Rooster, I can’t we defiled Naval property.” You giggle as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to circle your arms around his neck. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been defiling Naval property ever since you brought me home with you the night we met.”
^^ the most perfect gif in existence, lmao. they're both go getters ahahahaha
You take that cap off of your head and set it back on his, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek, “Glad I’m getting a good return on my taxes then.”
Facts 🤷🏻♀️-- i wouldn't mind getting a return on my taxes this way, just saying... lol
“Maybe it has a little something to do with the man in the uniform,” you make a little hum as you check him out. “You’re so tan, Bradley, have you been using the sunscreen I sent with you-”
Wear that SPF!!-- my fav hc is that he's always getting sunburnt because he just doesn't have the patience to put it on.
When you’re both back on the open flight deck he walks you over to the railing along the edge of the ship and wraps you up in his arms to watch the coastline crawl by with his last few moments of freedom.
Ahh I loved all of this so much 🥰-- i'm so happy you liked it!! thank you for reading!!
Hey, Sailor
Summary: It’s Fleet Week and Rooster would rather be anywhere else than on the flight deck of the USS Portland. That is, until a pretty thing in a sundress catches his eye and then suddenly his day is looking up.
Pairing: Bradley”Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader
Length: 5.8K
Warnings: Flirty Banter, Smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in Summer Whites (Minors DNI)
Note: When @roosterforme asks you to write her a Fleet Week fic, you write the Fleet Week fic! Here you go, Em! 💛
Normally, Rooster loved Fleet Week.
He loved the lively atmosphere and the parades. He loved the free drinks that were handed to him as soon as he entered a bar. And he especially loved all the attention he got from women when he wore his Summer Whites.
He usually came back to the ship looking less than pristine with lipstick on the collar of his uniform and hidden on other places on his body.
The USS Portland was teaming with excited families and camera-happy civilians taking in the sights from deck of the transport ship as they settled in for the five-hour journey to the San Diego. It was a Fleet Week tradition to welcome people aboard for an immersive experience, picking them up from a port further up North and then cruising along the coast before making their final docking for the week.
There were grills set up on the deck and the smell of flame kissed hamburgers and hotdogs mixed with the sea salt air. The sun was shining and the mood was light.
But this year, Rooster simply could not be bothered to give a fuck.
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jason todd x gn!neutral reader
a/n: inspired by this incredible piece of art by @jjenthusee, part of the february acts of kindness challenge
“dance with me,” you say, slipping off the couch and extending your hand.
“hm?” jason todd hums, finger marking his spot in his book as he looks up at you.
“dance with me.” the music fills the apartment like a physical thing, a neighbour’s practice session with their trumpet seeping through the walls.
“what, now?” he asks. you nod and hold out your hand again.
“c’mon, it’ll be fun,” you cajole him. the lamplight in the darkening evening gilds him golden. he hesitates and you sigh. “please? the world could end tomorrow or i’ll end up getting called into overtime in a never ending loop or maybe you’ll break a leg slipping off a roof—”
“i’m not that accident prone!” he defends himself indignantly. “i haven’t been injured on patrol in three weeks!”
“yes, yes, and i’m very proud of you darling but my point is, the future’s an unknown country and i want to dance today.”
he laughs at your plaintive tone, but he pushes up from the couch, leather creaking under his shifting weight and grabs a hold of your hand. he uses it to pull you close, a little twirl that makes you gasp thrown in for good measure. you rest your cheek against the plane of his chest, warmth seeping through the cotton fabric of his shirt, and sigh. the trumpet player, whoever they are, aren’t perfect. there’s slightly flat notes and rhythms taken a half beat too fast but in the moment, it’s perfect.
what is decidedly less perfect is coming home the next evening to a crouched figure on the fire escape, the cherry red end of the cigarette the only indication of life. you sigh, then set down your groceries on the counter before going for the first aid kit under the kitchen sink.
“you’d better not be dying out there,” you call out. the figure twitches, then turns to face the music.
there’s blood on his face. no matter how glib you might sound or how many times it happens, it always opens up a pit in your stomach. your fingers tighten around the plastic of the first aide kit.
“oh sweetheart, don’t worry, it’s just a lil’ blood.” he’s aiming for reassuring but it’s landing somewhere north of cocky. you roll your eyes and lean out the window to take his chin in your hand, turning his head gently to get a better look at the damage.
“anything broken?” you ask instead.
he stubs out the cigarette on the little ashtray you’d insisted he keep out there if he wasn’t gonna stop smoking, and moves to join you inside the apartment.
“my pride’s a little banged up but that’s about it. should have seen the knuckle dusters coming,” he sighs, hand ruffling through his hair. in the distance, your neighbour takes up his trumpet again.
“looks like your injury-free record is back down to zero,” you tease, the first aid kit back under the sink. to your surprise, Jason’s standing right behind you, smelling of fresh air and nicotine.
“got anything frozen?” he asks, jutting his chin out towards the groceries still sitting on the counter, abandoned.
“no but—”
“good. let’s dance,” he interrupts you, a half smile tugging at his lips.
“what, now?” you ask, aware of the absurd parody to the previous night.
“no better time,” he insists. he pulls you to the centre of the room, where there’s nothing to stop him from twirling you about. “the world didn’t end, you didn’t get called in to overtime, and I didn’t break my leg.”
“might’ve broken your nose,” you sniff, trying not to let his charm get to you. it doesn’t work. he laughs, head thrown back and unguarded.
“pinkie promise it’s not broken, just bruised sweetheart, like my ego’s gonna be if i can’t you to dance with me.”
you plant a quick kiss on his bloodied cheek and let out an undignified giggle when he tries to dip you.
“i’ll keep coming home to dance,” he murmurs into your ear, pulling you close as he pulls you upright. “s’long as it’s with you.”
the trumpeter plays on, a little more on key and a little less out of time with your heart.
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x gn!reader#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x male reader#red hood x reader#red hood x you#snack fic#sunnie writes 🌻#february acts of kindness challenge
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Inevitable Things : chapter twelve
aizawa x reader fic
cw: aizawa x reader, cisfem reader, office AU, no quirks, fingering
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Sticky and wet. Your pants are sticky and wet.
Pulling your panties up while still damp was a big mistake, you think as you walk back through the restaurant. The water you spilled in the restroom is all down your ass and is quickly cooling to an uncomfortable temperature, not to mention the absolute mess of cum and spit that's currently in the gusset of your panties-
And yet none of it manages to ruin your mood.
Really, you should feel bad. Guilty, at the very least. You should be feeling bad about doing this to Touya, doing this in a public fucking space--
But, you don’t. Not in the slightest. No, you feel good. Better than you have in a very long time. There’s a levity in your step that you don't think you've ever had. It takes effort to tamp down your smile as you slide back into the table, adjusting your hair just in case. Your whole body is buzzing with post orgasm bliss, but you can't let Hizashi know that.
“Oh my god, there you are!” Hizashi slams his hands down and groans. “I thought you got lost!”
You never even got to pee. That’s a bit of a bummer, but you think it’s a worthy sacrifice. Fuck, you’ll never pee again if that's the alternative.
“There was a line,” you dismiss. God, you need to cum more often. This is great. Maybe you can masturbate tonight when you get back to the hotel room-
A tingle thrills up your spine as you remember the fact that you won't be alone tonight. No, Aizawa is coming back with you, putting that talented fucking mouth of his to good use. You should have tried this years ago; it certainly would have made work more tolerable. It would have made Aizawa more tolerable too.
Fuck, you wish you could tell Hizashi that he was right; having fun is great. You had almost forgotten that being in love could be fun.
Not that you're in love. That would be criminally insane. You're just high off of post orgasmic bliss.
“Where did Aizawa go?” you ask, casually. Hizashi quirks a brow as he takes a sip of his drink.
“Taking a call. Manufacturing had an issue, apparently.”
“Again?”
Manufacturing is always having an issue; it comes with the territory for biomedical companies. Production of the products is actually outsourced, including the computer chips needed for the bed. Most of the time, issues can be dealt with internally, but there are also times that it has to be elevated all the way to engineering. It’s a good lie, in theory, but Aizawa is going to have to explain why they are contacting a lead engineer and not someone lower on the food chain.
“Um,” you shift in your seat. The excitement inside you needs to come out or else you might explode. “I got a text from the guy from last night.”
“Shut up-- that’s why you were gone so long, huh? Sexting in the bathroom?”
Oh, he’d die if he knew the truth. Absolutely die.
“We weren’t sexting.” Not a lie! “But, I think I'm going to invite him over to my room tonight.”
Hizashi tilts his head down so he can look at you from over his glasses. It's a very Nemuri move, complete with her little smirk.
“Are you gonna just make out again, or…?”
You tap your heels against the floor.
“No,” you hum, as innocently as possible.
“No?”
“No, I--” Oh, you have to literally bite your tongue to kill your smile. It's like being sixteen again, giddy and giggly over nothing- “I think I wanna do more.”
With a mouth like that, you might just let Aizawa do whatever he wants. Hell, you had asked to go slow, but now that you've had a taste, you don't know if you can keep the brakes on. You had forgotten how good it feels to be wanted, to be craved, to be touched… and Shouta seems determined to give you everything you need.
Hizashi physically reacts by grabbing the table and shaking it with a slack jawed amazement.
“Yes! Yes!” You have to grab your drink and Aizawa to stop them from spilling, but you're laughing all the while. “Good for you!”
“Hizashi, the waters!”
“Who is this guy?” Hizashi asks. “Is he cute? Is he nice?”
Is Aizawa cute? Not really. He's more… handsome than cute. Hardened, but soft. And he's certainly not nice. In fact, you’d label him as very not nice. Mean, even. Though, he did get you that sandwich this morning, which was really sweet. And he has those cats, which makes him a little softer than you first imagined-
“He's okay, I guess,” you settle on.
Hizashi nods, a bit too solemn. It sets you on edge, the way he clams up as he watches you, eyeing up and down over and over. You can practically see the gears turning in his brain as he thinks.
“Shut up.” He leans in on his elbows, sternly. “It's Shouta, isn't it?”
Don't panic. You're pinned down, like a bug under glass, but you can't panic. Luckily, your brain is still stupidly swimming, so you're able to fight your institution and just stare back at him with what you hope is a bewildered glare.
“What.”
The man leans back and scoffs, then scoffs again, louder. His hand lies over his heart as if you've slapped him, indignant. The restaurant suddenly isn’t loud enough; you need the music to be turned up or for the crowd to get thicker to hide what’s about to come out of this man’s mouth.
“Oh my god, it's totally him! You’re totally boning!”
Fuck. Double fuck.
“I mean, you both just disappeared at the same time-” Hizashi jolts up mid sentence. “Did you guys just fuck in the bathroom?! Oh my god, good for you! Is he good? He’s gotta be good-”
Oh, shit. Oh, damn. The room might be closing in on you actually. It's time to do what you do worst: lie. You push away from the table with a snort, lip curled up the way Aizawa's does.
“That's disgusting , Hizashi.” Oh, there’a vitriol in that. You almost smile out of pride, but you keep your cool. You have to-- you can't ruin this thing between you before it's even really started. “In a bathroom? With him? I'd rather die.”
Your charade doesn’t seem to affect him.
“Oh, come on-” he laughs. “You're telling me you two don't have something going on? You both just magically found other people last night?”
“I wouldn't sleep with him if he was the last man on earth,” you insist. “Aizawa is awful! Awful! Why would I ever-?”
A figure looms over you. “What did I walk into?”
Triple fuck. From someone who stomps most of the time, Aizawa certainly has a quiet step today. You swivel around, trying to flash a panicked look. Somehow, Aizawa seems to understand. His brow flickers up for a brief second, then returns to the usual unimpressed spot. Should you be worried that the two of you have figured out lying this easily? Usually, Touya just lies to you, not with you.
“Hizashi thinks we're sleeping together.” You wave a hand dismissively. You hope that no one else notices that Aizawa’s face is noticeably damp-- freshly washed.
“Ugh.” He rolls his head back as if he’s been slapped, sliding into the seat beside Hizashi. His foot bumps against you and you question if it’s on purpose. Is.. was that his good leg? Or the bad one? Maybe he’s kicking you accidentally. “Her? What's wrong with you?”
Oh, ouch. That. Huh.
Logically, you know it’s just part of the lie you’ve started, but it still somehow stings. Rejection, even fake rejection, makes you ache. It falls too close to home, too close to Touya. (Not that you’re thinking about Touya tonight. No-- you’re allowing yourself to have fun. You’re forgetting him the same way he’s probably forgotten about you--)
Swallowing down your pride, you adjust yourself in your seat, pulling on your still soaked pants-
“You aren't a prize either.” Again, your own bite surprises you. “I've been dealing with your shitty attitude for years and-”
“My shitty attitude? You're the one who stomps around when your boyfriend gets fired.”
Your jaw falls slack. Okay, you should be offended, but… there’s an edge of something attractive in the way his dark eyes narrow. The grit to his voice reminds you of moments ago, how he talks to you when you’re alone-
“That’s rich.” You’re watching his face. Oh, that sting? It’s changed. Now, there’s a simmering want inside you, begging to be fed. You need him mad, need him angry, need him riled up- “Where’s your girlfriend?”
There’s a freeze. Both men have mirrored expressions of surprise. Aizawa blinks, then tightens his expression. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, that’s right.” You lift your glass and pretend to inspect the liquid inside. “You’ve been single since I’ve met you.”
Stunned, Hizashi opens his mouth to say something, but Aizawa beats him to the punch. He bends over the table with a glowering expression, those dark eyes boring into you. It reminds you of the fights you two had in office, but now that expression thrills you instead of terrifies.
“Oh, fuck you,” he seethes. “Sorry that I’m not whoring myself over the office with the interns.”
Oh, you kind of want to suck his cock right now. Obviously, you’ve always had a thing for red flags, but this is kind of ridiculous. He must have done something fucking magical or satanic to you pussy to make you act like this. Are you acting insane? You might be acting insane.
“Excuse me?” you ask through your teeth.
Oh, he’s riled up now, his eyes narrowed into slits. “ I saw those bruises you sucked into Kaminari.”
That steals a genuine laugh from you. Is that a genuine concern for him? You certainly hope not; Denki is… well, he’s Denki. He’s a sweet guy in his own regard, but you wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole. He’s young and, clearly, you prefer older guys.
(Huh. That’s a new revelation for you. Touya is your age, but… There’s something unbelievably sexy about the grey at Aizawa’s temple, the wrinkles next to his eyes-)
“You think I’m fucking that kid? Fuck you.”
“Fuck you.”
Oh, you hope he does. You hope he absolutely ruins you.
“Fuck-”
“Okay, okay,” Hizashi interrupts you, arms spread as if keeping you both from leaping over the table. “You people! What happened to the truce?”
“You happened!”
Somehow the rest of dinner goes well. Hizashi makes sure the conversation steers towards work and his plans for the night. You do have to give the wait staff an extra big tip-- Hizashi may have said ‘butt plug’ a bit too loudly for the poor guy’s comfort.
Occasionally, Shouta looks your way. He ponders a bit too long on your features, has a bit too much of a smile on his face. His leg bumps against your again, a silent reminder that he’s there. Honestly, thank god that Hizashi was convinced by your lies, because this man is being obvious.
And frankly, you’re living for it.
You’re still vibrating with excitement by the time you all leave together. He’s coming back to your room tonight, coming back for more. You might be getting addicted to this feeling, addicted to being wanted, to cumming on someone’s tongue-
Maybe you should throw caution to the wind and fuck him.
Oh, that thought sends a chill up your spine. It’s been so long since you’ve been filled. Sex always came with anxiety before, but now, you might be excited. Especially when Aizawa’s cock seems so fucking thick-
“You all ready for tomorrow?” Hizashi’s voice shocks you out of your thoughts. God, you’re worse than him! One orgasm and you’ve devolved into a needy pervert.
Aizawa groans, pressing his thumbs into his temples. The hotel lobby buzzes with life as you all enter. The tiles seems to get more dazzling at night, blue illuminated by the dangling chandeliers and air of excitement.
“No. It’s going to be a long night.”
Hizashi elbows his friend’s side. “No mysterious girl for you tonight, huh? Too busy studying?”
Aizawa is starkly quiet for a long moment, mouth screwed tight as if the question upset him. You almost worry that he’s considering it-- that he’s going to go back to his room without you, and dread sets into your bones. The need has already built back up inside you, anticipation tingling all the way to your fingers. It’s a little alarming, how quickly you’ve gotten addicted to the idea of fucking him, to cumming with him-
Aizawa shrugs away your worries. “I’ll find time.”
Internally, you cheer.
“Aw, you dog. Now- Do I need to supervise you two?” Hizashi teases as he turns on his heel, walking backwards into the hall. “Escort you to your rooms so you don’t murder each other in the elevator?”
“I think we’ll manage,” you say as you press the button. Hizashi leaves and the two of you are left in silence.
The elevator door rumbles closed behind you two after you both set in. Aizawa shifts back against the wall with a sigh, barely audible over the gentle muzak. He looks tired, but in a different way than usual: a gentle, content exhaustion, one that wears well on his features, but doesn’t deepen the creases on his brow. It suits him much more than the usual, miserable look he has.
“I should stop by my room before-” Aizawa starts.
You press off of the wall and close the distance between you. It doesn't matter what he was going to say, because you weren't going to listen anyway. Instead, you press yourself up on to your toes and catch his lips mid sentence, moving fast and sure enough that you catch him completely off guard. You can feel his surprise in his inward gasp as you force him back against the cold steel wall. There's a moment of hesitation -shock, you realize gleefully- before he caves into you, hands on your waist dragging you in until your hips press against his.
The quiet gives you space to enjoy the tiny moments he gives you: the hitch in his breath when you hold him tighter, the rumble in his chest when your teeth close around his lower lip, the sound of fabric against fabric as his hands drift lower and his hands grip your ass-
“You really piss me off,” he mumbles into you. “You get off on lying, don’t you?”
Only with him, you think. Only with you. The door dings open and you loosen your grip, but Aizawa holds firm, holds tight.
“Aizawa,” you mumble into his lips, but he just keeps going. “Ai-”
Another peck shuts you up for a moment.
“Shouta!”
Finally, he reacts and lets you go, his touch trailing on you for just a moment longer. You have to jut out an arm to stop the door from closing again.
“Listen-” he exhales. “I am going to my room. I’m going to shower, brush my teeth, then come to you. Okay?”
More than okay. Perfect. Excellent. Ideal.
“Okay.” You try to play it cool, but his nose wrinkles in delight at the tremble in your voice. “I’ll be waiting.”
Stepping out of the elevator, you glance behind one last time. It feels like you should say something, give him a goodbye, but instead you just watch the doors close in silence. His eyes never leave you, staring with a silent, hungering desire.
You might have to fuck him.
Back in your room, you do the same as him. You brush your teeth, rinse the day off of your body, and contemplate yourself in the fogged reflection of the mirror. The buzzing in your skin is either anxiety or excitement, maybe a bit of both, but you can’t stop riding the high that comes with them. Being wanted feels good, too good, impossibly good- so good that you’re afraid it’s about to be taken away.
Logically, it will be. This… thing must have a terminating point somewhere. There’s no possible way that the two of you continue this into the workplace, is there? Everything ends at some point, everyone leaves eventually-
No. Focus. Have fun. Focus on having fun.
You didn’t pack any perfume, so you hope the hotel body wash smells alluring enough. Your hair still looks okay enough that you don’t need to bother styling it- but you still try to, just a bit. It’s normal to want to look nice, to smell soft, to be soft, but there’s also an embarrassment to wanting to be pretty. You hadn’t felt it before, but now, you’re suddenly concerned about the curves of your body and how it sits differently than you want. He’s seen most of you before, and yet you’re now caught up in the imperfections. Which underwear did you pack again? Nothing sexy, that’s for sure. Only skin tone bras too. Fuck-- you don’t actually know if you own anything enticing.
Do you even own anything sexy?
What clothes should you even wear for him anyway? I’d be strange to put your clothes back on, right? What about pajamas? What will he be wearing? Hopefully not that fucking yellow sweatshirt he works in. You find yourself pacing around the room in only your towel, tidying up and trying to decide what the best option is. Maybe just a shirt? Like Winnie the Pooh?
No, that’s stupid. Ugh, you wish you were someone like Nemuri, someone bold and sexy and confident--
What would Nemuri do?
The dreaded knock at the door stocks you from your worry. You make a quick decision; turning out all of the lights, you tiptoe to the front door and peer out the peephole. Yes, it’s him, dressed in a simple white shirt, dark hair freshly washed. His expression is unreadable, as usual, but perhaps on the brink of anxious.
Why would he be nervous? The thought makes you giggle. Maybe, just maybe, he’s just as jittery as you are over this-
But you doubt it.
Before you lose your nerve, you open the door, still in your towel. Aizawa’s eyes widen just a bit, then narrow with a keen excitement.
“Am I too early?” he teases.
“No,” you reply, “Just in time.”
And you let your towel drop.
A beat passes before he reacts. Aizawa’s jaw literally drops. Before you can revel in the satisfaction, he’s crowding you again, hands ghosting over your body as if he can’t decide where to touch first. His shirt is rough against your bare skin and you’re suddenly very aware of how your nipples have pearled up. The hotel’s air conditioning is rolling, much colder than you’d ever make your home, and your skin is goosepimpling under it, but you’re still so hot, so warm-
“Oh god,” he whispers, breathy, barely sane. “Look at you.”
The first kiss is wild, breath stealing, rough- it forces you back a step, just far enough that the door slams closed and leaves you in the dark. His touch has settled on your chest, cupping your tits up between his fingers in a boyish way, one that's so much less precise than his usual way of loving you.
“God-” he says again. “God-”
Suddenly, his lips are gone and you can feel him hunched over you, breath hot against your tits. The gentle tug of teeth scares a gasp out of you, then floods your body with heat.
“I want to see you,” Aizawa's mouth closes around your nipple for a second, his spit cooling almost instantly. ”I want to touch you-”
His hand wraps around your thigh and squeezes. Your body burns hot, your core tight, cunt wet- Hotel darkness, with the curtains drawn, feels deeper than home. Only the red numbers of the clock illuminate the nightstand. You can't see how he moves, how he looks, but you can feel it--
And you want to feel more, more, more, as much as he'll give you.
“Touch me,” you beg. “Please.’
He drops to his knees with a quick, labored exhale. Fuck- his leg. He’s already kissing the lower round of your stomach, trailing down to the curve of your mons, taking his sweet, sweet time.
“Aizawa-” Your hands run through his hair and gently urge him back, but he just presses on, pulling your knee over his shoulder- “Your leg-”
He's not listening. He's too busy nudging your legs apart, bumping his shoulder into your knee until it gives to him. For the second time that night, Aizawa puts his mouth on you. This time, he inhales, embarrassingly deep.
“Ah-” the sound escapes you involuntarily. “Don't-- don't smell me.”
The hot press of tongue ignites something inside you, something innate. Your hips buck on their own, the ridge of his nose bumping against your still swollen clit. After earlier, your pussy is still puffy and well loved, and the pressure sends your spine straight.
“I should have shaved-” you babble. His arm has looped around your supporting leg. “I'm sorry, I should have-”
In the dark, every touch feels more. More powerful, more potent, more smoldering: his hand is drifting up, under your ass and in, in, in-
When his fingers join his tongue, spreading your cunt open wider from behind.
“God-” Your brain is soup, stewing in its own electric pleasure. You can feel the chill of his inhales again and it's all you can do to whine, to push away his forehead- “God, don't smell me-”
“Shut the fuck up.” He rips his mouth away from you and you can feel his eyes staring up in the dark. “Just-- shut up and take it.”
Your jaw clamps shut. Aizawa’s back on you, huffing and sucking greedily. Every muscle in your body is perking and clenching, your knee wobbling. His hand digs into your ass, dragging you so firmly against him that his nose bridge digs into your skin. The way he kisses at you is overwhelming; it feels like he’s pulling pleasure out of you, dragging it out hand over hand like it's attached to a string-
You want to cry or plead or curse or something. but Aizawa’s stolen your words from you, so all you can do is silently whine.
It's too much, it's not enough, it's-
His free hand is suddenly on your cunt, a finger pressing up and into you. The sensation shocks a gasp out of you. It's not a lot, but it's been so long since anything been inside you; the sensation only worsens your needs, tightens the want-
A second finger slides in. There's a stretch and you suddenly feel drunk, like the room has tilted on its axis.
You're going to fuck this man. You have to fuck this man. You might go insane if you don't get that cock inside you.
When you cum, it flushes every inch of your skin with a lumbering heat, like he's raking you over coals. It's ugly and brutal, it almost brings you to your knees, but Shouta holds you steady. He doesn't miss a beat, still lapping at your folds like he needs you to live.
It's horrendous. It's torturous. The air punches out of your body as he strokes your already overworked clit. Tension bunches in every muscle, pulling you over him, hunched and panting. Your fingers claw at his scalp, tug his hair, but Shouta doesn't stop.
“I came-” you protest, voice climbing higher than ever. “I came, I came-- aa--”
He pulls away to speak.
“I know.” His fingers curl and press into you again, right against a deep spot. “Do it again.”
And he's on you again.This time, he’s more forward, aggressive with how he licks and suckles. It's no longer hungry-- it's mean. It doesn't coax pleasure from you, it forces.
“I can't,” you whine. Every flick of tongue shocks more pleasure from you, burning through your cunt deep into your gut. You're boneless, you're stiff, you're wobbling-
“I can't, I can't-”
Aizawa rests his cheek against your thigh, his fingers working harder and harder. It’s much more intense in the dark, where the only thing you can focus on is the feeling and the sound of his fingers squelching into you.
“You can-” He insists into your skin. He kisses the crease of your leg. “Let go.”
“I can't-”
Oh, a pressure is building inside you, one that's rolling and rabid. You think you might literally be drooling, but you can't tell anymore; all you can think about is his fingers drilling into your pussy, urging faster-
“I can't.”
He's not telling you to shut up anymore. He just says, firmly: “You can.”
And you do.
It's a lift, that moment where gravity forgets you when the roller coaster crests the hill. There's nothing, blissful nothing, a weightless second where you can finally pull in a full breath. Maybe this is it, maybe you’ll never fall-
Then, it crashes.
You think you might have gone blind for a moment. Stars flicker over your vision and your brain just can't keep up. Earlier, he compared it to a computer resetting and you suddenly understand exactly what he meant like that: your body slumps over as if he's pulled your batteries out. Aizawa has to pull his hands from you and brace to stop the both of you from tumbling over.
“Hey now,” he grunts. “Do not fall.”
“Shut--shut up,” you manage to say, still all twitches and kicks. There’s… you’re.. There’s a lot going on right now and you can’t pull your brain together enough to process any of it. For a blissfully long time, you just are: no thoughts, no doubts, no worries.
When you finally catch yourself, Aizawa’s still down on his knees, patting your flank in silent support.
“Are you alright?” His cheeks are dreadfully wet with you, caught in his stubble
“No,” you whine. “I think I died.”
He pats the side of your thigh again. “You're fine. Help me up.”
Oh, shit. His leg. You pull yourself together enough to stand on your own. Your thighs rub together with their own wet and you’re horrified at the amount of it all. It’s down to your fucking knees. God, you didn’t even think you could do that. Blindly, you reach into the dark and take Aizawa’s hand, hoisting him off of the floor.
“Are you okay?” you ask.
“Peachy. I’m just old.” He pulls on your hand and brings you closer. When his lips find yours, your own taste shocks a gasp out of you. His face is as wet as your legs, stubble gritting against your chin. It’s surprisingly gentle and affectionate, as if he didn’t just change your fucking life with his tongue.
“I should get you a towel or something,” you say as you pull away.
Aizawa snorts, his grip on you only tightening. You try to imagine the look on his face. Maybe he’s licking the ridge of his teeth, maybe he’s glowering. Maybe he’s smiling, looking down at you with that almost loving affection. “You don’t think we’re done, do you?”
Uh oh.
Uh oh.
In the dark, he pushes you backward, both of you blindly bumping into walls and the edge of the tv stand. Each bump and bruise steal a giggle out of you and him, but the laughter does nothing to diffuse the want you feel emanating from his touch. Eventually, the back of your legs hits the soft down of the bed and you pause, trying to hold him a bit farther away and failing. You had forgotten that he’s still fully dressed; his belt buckle is frigid against your skin.
“Shouta, my legs are shaking.” Your hands find the bottom of his shirt, fumbling with the edge. Maybe you can distract him, give yourself time to recover. “I can’t take anymore.”
Shouta is mirroring your motions, running his fingers across the soft of your stomach. The touch makes you feel shy and you wiggle away from the touch. Technically, he’s seen you completely naked, but touching feels like a deeper sense of knowledge, especially in the dark.
“Two orgasms?” He squeezes your side again. “That’s really all it takes?”
“Three…” you remind.
“Two.” He’s firm. “The second one doesn’t count.”
The air conditioning rushes back on and you nearly shiver. The heat of your orgasm still warms your cheeks, but you’re still naked, still exposed. “Why not?”
“Wasn’t big enough.”
“Felt big.”
He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “You poor, neglected thing.”
Hands find your shoulders and push, knocking you back on to the mattress with an ‘oof’. The bed shifts under his weight and you can feel him there, hovering over you in the dark, just a breath away. All you can do is lay there and try to make out the shapes of him. The red glow of the alarm clock catches his eye and you suddenly know he’s watching you, probably searching for your way in the same way.
“What-?” you breathe. “What are you gonna do with me?”
You don’t know what you want the answer to be, but you aren’t expecting a chuckle.
“I’m going to do-” Shouta breathes, deep and dark and hungry, closer to a growl than a whisper. “Whatever I want.”
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Okay but consider this...
Lillith did not, in fact, order Alastor to go to the hotel or protect Charlie (per say)
In fact, she might have slapped the exact opposite order on the deer, because she knew what a nightmare he could be.
It would be inifinitely more fun to have her reveal that when she drops in for a visit.
"So you sent Alastor here to protect me?"
"My dear, I told him explicitly not to fucking come here in order to protect you. But he's a wilful bastard and I should have known better." Lillith sighed, rubbing her eyes.
"So why did you come here?"
"Why, pure spite and a desire for entertainment my dear. Why not?"
"...if that's true, why didn't you ask for my soul in our deal? I... would hope my mother would trade it for your own."
"She may have, she may not have. She could just force me to release it to her too, you know that's in her power."
"That didn't answer my question..."
Lillith laughs, "Darling, I think you actually endeared yourself to the Overlord when you fought that horrid mantis woman on television. He genuinely enjoys that level of chaos... and the fact he remained against my many subtle attempts to have him leave, means perhaps the stubborn deer might actually like you."
"Preposterous, it's mere entertainment..."
"Like Rosie? Like Vox? Are they entertainment? You let her hug you and didn't even try to bite Charlie once. Oh don't get steamed, deer, I'm just yanking your tail... it's not a bad thing to care for someone. And my-... Our darling daughter..." here she winked, having scryed the initial song battle between Alastor and Lucifer, grinning widely. The two were so similar when it came to theatricality, and yet, so different in terms of everything else. "here is just the sort of creature that no one but the bleakest of fools could fail to care for."
"...how dare you imply I have any emotions, you wretched diva." The tone was mock offence and joviality, and only Lillith's echoing laughter stopped Lucifer from defending her majesty's honour.
"Oh, you do, and I'm sure you're quite fawn'd of Charlotte, you antagonistic anachronistic ancient artifact." She bounces back, airily.
"Ho, I know one should never ask a lady her age, but I don't think there's a number high enough for you to provide in answer."
"I missed these little banter sessions, Bambi, it got quite boring without someone mocking my every waking moment."
"And your husband is a poor substitute for your cruel wit, Siren, and yet... we made do with what we had. Now, how are you here? I thought Adam's little nonsense kept you pinned in place?"
"I believe Niffty took the pest out on my behalf and snapped the threads binding me there. Do get her something pretty from Rosie's and put it on my account, I know the demonic doll will adore anything from her boutique."
"Hello, can I get a word in edgewise?" Lucifer has this too-cheerful grin on his face, waving his hand like an eager student aiming for the attention of the teacher. "Hi, your husband, hello. Quick question, what the fuck are you talking about? How do you know the bellhop? How is Adam involved in any of this? And again, what the FUCK is going on here?"
"Oh... did I not say, my love?" Lillith coos, a trembling note that she knew angels used between one another to help settle ffrazzled nerves. It was always a delightful amusement to see Lucifer's ruffled feathers settle. Intriguingly, the little ex-orcist does to, and then looks confused about it. "Why, I was trapped in Heaven with my boorish first fool of a 'husband', to prevent more 'rebellion nonsense'. I had to make a rather clever deal to help Alastor get back to Hell, and I technically own his soul... but we've been friends for decades, dear. You've met twice..."
Ah, that might be why Alucard was so pissed to be dismissed, Lucifer realises. Wouldn't be the first time he'd forgotten a face.
"Charlie was abooooout ten at the time, in terms of age, my dove..." Lillith prompts. "The television sinner was there too? Do you recall that?"
"...no. But a lot of those decades were a foggy mess." Lucifer admits, trying to work out how he forgot a guy with a tv for a head. Wait, he remembered the guy with a tv for a head. "Did the television have a yellow sweater on and I kept subtly asking how the fuck he managed to get it on given the neckhole didn't seem that stretchy?"
Audience applause played from the air. "That's the one. The secret was, of course, velcro down the back. He'll say he used his powers to put it on, but he didn't have that ability back then." Alastor explains. "I do believe it was a vaguely productive meeting, even if you were only physically present, your Lowness. Why, I recall we'd taught deer Charlotte at least four new swear words by the time we left..."
Charlie, whose eyes were wide as she Recalled Something, felt her mouth fall open. "Oooooh, so you're the ones who taught me to say [very long and complicated series of words that seem to be sending Lucifer into a state of rage as yet unattainable to sinners with every syllable]... right? I said that to dad when he told me it was bathtime and I didn't want to, and he had to go set something on fire before he came back to talk about 'good words and bad words'."
Vaggie looked horrified, and snapped a glare at the radio demon.
Alastor's grin was WIDER than it should be possible to get. "Are you telling me, my dear Charlotte, was that his Majesty's tantrum was the reason that half of pentagram city was burned to the ground shortly after we left that day? Oho, that's just... delicious."
"Well I shouldn't have said it..." Charlie agonised, "I'm sorry Dad. I mean, it was a while ago,but..."
"Oh, you're not to blame Char-Char... this fucker is." Lucifer launches for Alastor, whose tendrils are manifesting... and then a startled bleat escapes as Lillith yanks him practically into her lap by the collar.
"Hold, Luci, there was no harm done in the long run. And you know I found it hilarious, in the aftermath." Lillith waves it off. She turns to the Overlord trying to right himself. "And you, you terrible influence, I do hope you haven't taught our darling anything worse while I was away?"
Charlie, caught back on the bleat sound, is watching on with stars in her eyes. She blinks. "What? No, he hasn't... well, unless you count [a strange warbling static came out of her mouth as her lips moved in what seemed like words]?"
Alastor's ears went flat in shock. "I promise you I didn't teach her that... I had no idea she could even hear that frequency, nuch less verbalise it!"
"I heard you tell Vox he should-..."
"DO NOT REPEAT THAT!" Alastor just about begged as static spilled about the room. "Do you WANT your parents to reduce me to atoms?"
Charlie blinked. "No? It was a pretty creative threat, but it wasn't that bad..."
Lucifer was pulling at a mental thread from the conversation. "Hold on, can we back up to the part where the deer was in Heaven...? How did that happen?"
Angry static filled the room until it was oppressive. Vaggie clutched at Charlie's arm whilst also putting herself between Charlie and the Overlord.
"Enough of that..." Lillith murmured and tugged at an antler. She received an indignant noise that Alastor wouldn't ever admit to with a gun to his head. "They were going to find out eventually you overdramatic cervine... might as well out with it."
The ears pinned flat. "No."
"Fine, I will... this canibalistic mass-murdering psychopath somehow got accidentally redeemed whilst fending off angels during an extermination. I strongly suspect it was because, even though they had just been fighting to the death, he still put himself in the way of those who would have killed Vox..."
Charlie was flickering between shock, anger, confusion and something that looked like it wanted to be weepy and affectionate. Hopefully she didn't settle for the latter because Lillith and Lucifer would have to pin the deer in place to avoid Alastor throwing himself out a window to avoid the whole mess.
"You... you knew it was possible... and you didn't TELL ME?!" Charlie yelled, settling on Anger.
Alastor grins, "Well, you never directly asked, did you?"
Charlie steamed, then pivoted in the old Charlie Fashion (TM) to joyful. "It's possible?!"
Lillith also adds, "From what I have heard around Heaven, it may not have been the first time... they just keep it quiet. And... well, if someone gets up there who starts doing things like, say, eating Cherubs because they were furious they were trapped there... they usually just killed them off. Unless, of course, they had the Queen of Hell there who could convince them to try another way."
"You ate CHERUBS?! They're like CHILDREN?" Lucifer is aghast.
"They are infuriatingly too-positive little nightmares with no common sense or ability to accept anyone else's viewpoint. Yes. they were delicious."
"...well, okay they're a bit of an experience but eating them?!"
"Most of them are centuries older than myself, they had enough time to learn to back off. I warned them, they persisted, I got to try angelic veal..."
Vaggie looked like she wanted to throw up. "Don't. ever. say that phrase again."
"What, angelic ve-...?"
"You stop taunting my future daughter in law or I order you to let them pet your tail." Lillith warns. It's an empty threat, she was a major proponent of bodily autonomy (anyone who'd been trapped with Adam would be) but Alastor didn't need to know that.
"You wouldn't dare!"
"I would. Now, shall I continue? Lovely. We made a deal, with Adam cosigning because I was under his contract, to allow Alastor to return to Hell as a Sinner... with a few rules that the oaf created. Particularly the one around not raising an army against Heaven, and some poorly worded nonsense about not sharing the secrets of angelic steel and implying he should not be 'fucked with' which we took to assume meant no fighting the fool. Because he certainly made passes at both of us."
Lillith's mouth turned down in distaste. Alastor looked like HE was going to be sick.
Lucifer's expression flickered demonic. "If he wasn't dead, I'd kill him again..." After everything Lillith went through in the Garden, to be trapped with a man who could never learn from his mistakes, was blind to making them. Revolting.
"Didn't want to take the Dickmaster for a spin, Bambi?" he snipes, distracting himself with the casual patter of argumentation with the overlord.
"Why, your majesty, I was busy with your wife... although comparatively, I do have good time management skills, I suppose I COULD have managed if I tried..."
"You did WHAT?!"
Lillith was trying so hard to keep a straight face as she threw a pseudo seductive expression at Alastor. "Oh darling, he's not ready to know about that..." she purrs. She sees her husband attain an almost orange colouring. "We're joking, dear... I promise."
"Dad? Try counting to te-... fifty-seven." Charlie intervenes.
"One, two-... wait, why 57?" he says, colour settling again.
"Because the number was so unusual you'd get curious about it and drop out of your funk to ask."
"...you really are so clever, Char-Char, we really made something amazing when we created you."
"Daaaaaaaaaaad, please... not in front of Vaggie." she flushes.
"Unclench, your Lowness, your wife is aesthetically pleasing but we are but friends." Alastor shrugged.
"Because you liked Vox, right?" Lucifer was awarding himself a mental medal because he REMEMBERED bits of the conversation. Wasn't that sad?
Alastor snarled. "Hardly." Oooh, that seemed like a sore spot. Time to press.
"Didn't like you back, huh? Fair. I can't fucking stand you, and-..."
"Lucifer, leave it." Lillith said. It wasn't harsh or sharp, but it conveyed that she knew something about why the Overlord's expression had fallen behind that smile, even as he forced whatever emotion that meant back into a box and reasserted the mask. "It's complicated, and now is not the time for that conversation. Suffice to say, no one slept with Adam outside of his exorcists, but I did manage to get Alastor back to Hell as swiftly as I could in order to have him covertly assisting Charlie."
"How? If you wouldn't let him at the hotel, then how does that help?"
"Destabilise the Overlords, be more lenient about the souls on his chains trying out the hotel, spread information about the place in a covert manner that wouldn't get a target on you, so many underhanded things my dear. Though, I am glad he disobeyed... I hadn't realised how little you understood of management and staffing."
"Heh, yeah... it was the best we had."
"Charlotte, you could have ordered palace staff to come and help at the hotel, you were always too kind."
"Oh, I dismissed them when you left with Charlie..." Lucifer adds, sheepishly.
"It seems there is a lot I need to do in the interim, then." Lillith sighed. "Alastor, would you be open to helping me manage these tasks, even without the deal in place?"
"...I kept the last hotel together with magical duct tape and elbow grease, it's a matter of pride now to continue in the role." Alastor shrugs, as if unconcerned. The collar shatters with a snap of elegant pale fingers. "Thank you... now, what was it you needed seen to? I will need to schedule in a few hours to go and tear the Vees limb from limb, but outside of that, my calendar's quite open."
"Wait, we need to discuss everything we just learned! I have questions!"
"Later, Charlotte. Now is the time for action..." Alastor replies, radio dial eyes flaring, already planning on how he would prepare the Vees for dinner.
"How dare you talk to our daughter that way, Alastor, deer?" Lillith teases, tugging at his ear and laughing as he snaps his teeth at her fingers. "Oh, don't fight in front of Charlotte, she'll end up with a complex or something..."
"On top of her glaring daddy issues you mean?"
Alastor doesn't like the way Lucifer's expression goes from furious to cold, cruel delight in a heartbeat. "Well, it's on you to fix now as well, bellhop... seeing as you claimed her too. So, how about some..." the world seemed o slow down like a horror movie, "Family... therapy...?"
"...If you'll excuse me, I'm going to beg Vox to kill me."
Charlie leaps for him, "No, he's kidding!"
"So am I, Charlotte... do take a breath. Your parents are apparently comedians this afternoon, and I think we'd all best steer clear of them until whatever madness has swept over them, passes. Now, would you like to come and watch me dismember an overlord? You and Vagathat could even tag-team Velvette if you wished..."
Vaggie looks like she might pass out.
His ears flatten. "Ah, I believe I hit another slang term and I'm not going to like what it really means... am I?"
Lucifer curls half his wings around the Overlord, as one might companionably sling an arm over their shoulder if they were at comparable heights. Clearly having decided that he can torment the other better if he REALLY leans into this madness between them all.
He steers the deer towards the corridor as Lillith follows behind, unwilling to miss the fuss.
"Well, you're gonna love this, Al... husbando nuero uno, honey, deerly beloved, blood moon of our life..." Laying it on thick, but Al looked ready to claw his own ears off with each passing endearment. "...but tag-teaming used to mean fighting in tandem, and now it means-..."
The door clicks shut, but seconds later every radio in the c=vinciity blasts an air raid siren and something that sounds mysteriously like a clown falling down the stairs.
Charlie counts to ten, breathing hard.
"What the fuck is my life...?" she whispers.
Vaggie consoles her as best she can, tossing up if Charlie outweighed the insanity of her family enough to propose. She blanches, momentarily, imagining having to ask Lucifer and Lillith and Alastor's permission, before catching herself.
Sure just the first two, right?
Right?
But then she recalled the look in the royal couple's eye, and their infamous penchant for committing to the bit... and resigned herself to like, dragging a sinner home and offering it to the deer for his blessing. Or something insane like that.
"No matter what, I love you, Charlie..." she murmurs externally. "Let's go take a walk in the garden to calm down, okay?"
"...yeah, I could use fresh air after all this."
There'd be so much to talk about later, so much to ask... but for now?
Charlie needed cuddles and connection.
And, based on the sounds downstairs, someone needed a first aid kit or a priest... so they'd be taken the back staircase to avoid all that. The smoke alarms began to blare.
Vaggie tugged Charlie away from the choas just a little faster.
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no idea where this was going, it spiralled on me
it could be funny tho
#hazbin hotel#no idea where this was going#alastor#lucifer#lillith#i do like hellradio as a throuple but was not willing to write it so late at night#funnier if lucifer and lillith call al's bluff about charlie like surprise she's your problem now too
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didn't expect this post to get notes so didn't elaborate at the time but a few things to clarify.
the current system of MAT for opioid users is often a logistical nightmare with so many rigid rules and controlling policies that often makes it practically impossible to actually receive what you need, in terms of clinics requiring daily visits or refusing to give take home doses or only offering really low doses or frequent drug testing and then getting kicked out of programs. it just goes on and on. that is not the same as an actually accessible safe supply and the ultimate goal should be safe supply for all drugs, not continuing to place restrictions on access or punitive measures just to access a safer supply.
also saw a lot of people saying in the comments that the goal should be to increase access to Adderall so that no one needs to use meth. i think it's true that if Adderall and other stimulants were more easily available, that there would be some people who do want to stop or cut down on their meth usage. but regardless of how accessible Adderall is there are still going to be people who prefer to use meth, for a lot of different reasons (it's fun! the dosage might work better for some people! the side effects might be better for some people! it's what they're used to! it's cheaper! etc etc etc). i think we should always be fighting to increase the amount of options people have, working towards easily accessible safer supply of all drugs and support people in making their own decisions about their drug use. i believe that people are the experts on their own lives and get to make the decisions that make sense for them about how drug use fits into their lives.
also a lot of misinfo about meth in the comments. here's a few resources to learn about it.
Safer Meth Smoking from Next Distro
Meth Fact Sheet from the Drug Policy Alliance
Methamphetazine from kat.harmreduction
okay also semi related post. I think it is really silly when people make all these posts about how adderall is so different than meth and start saying demeaning stuff about meth users when they’re discussing the artificially created adderall shortage. the two drugs are both stimulants and yeah they are not chemically identical but they are enough the same that I currently know of a clinical trial where people are piloting adderall as a form of MAT for meth users. (Which has been really popular with the participants so far, people were telling me they liked having access to a consistent supply of adderall and were interested in reducing their meth use to only a couple times a week instead.) so maybe we should start thinking a little bit more about how there’s a lot of propaganda sensationalizing and stigmatizing meth use and stop blaming people who use meth for a shortage that the DEA is causing!!!
#harm reduction#lol would have phrased the original post differently if i had thought it would get notes#my main point was like 'look adderall and meth are pretty similiar in a lot of ways and here's one example of a way they're linked together#not "current MAT systems are good and also everyone should start using adderall instead of meth lmfao#enough of my besties much prefer meth to other stims that like. i would not ever say that
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Miles Away, I've Always Loved You
this is my entry for the 2025 winter fic exchange hosted by the lovely @wyattjohnston!! thank you as always for hosting!
my fic is for @writingonleaves! i had lots of fun writing this one and really hope you love it just as much.
hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx
word count: 5.1k
The knock on the door startles Reagan out of her thoughts. She had been mentally trying to figure out how to organize the bookshelf in her living room now that it’s been built.
The apartment is still mostly a mess. The move to Vancouver had been circled on her calendar for months, but Reagan knew the worst part about moving cross country completely by herself would be the unpacking and setting up of a new place. And so far, she’s been right.
From putting together all the furniture on her own, opening and emptying box after box and feeling that same exhaustion hit her every few hours, the move has been an insane amount of work to say the least. But she couldn’t be happier knowing that she moved to this city that she’s still a little familiar with for the job of her dreams. That alone makes everything worth it.
There’s another knock at the door and Reagan lets out a deep sigh. She’s not expecting someone as no one in the city knows who she is since she just arrived three days ago. She abandons the stacks of books on the floor and heads to the door, wondering who could possibly be on the other side.
Without bothering to look through the peephole, which might’ve been a mistake, Reagan swings open the door to reveal a man she’s never seen before. He looks just a little older than her 25 years of age, has a big smile that wrinkles the corners of his eyes and his hair is neatly styled. Before she can even open her mouth to say anything, he’s already speaking.
“Oh, hey!” He says with an element of surprise in his voice. “I didn’t know Cap had a girl, but I’m new here so I'm still trying to learn all of that, you know?”
She doesn’t know in fact because she has no idea what he’s talking about and the confusion must be evident on Reagan’s face because he continues talking in effort to explain.
“Um, I’m here for the team dinner? Apparently it’s tradition here for the captain to host everyone before training camp starts and so I brought this,” he shows you a bottle of expensive wine and then a container of store bought cookies, “and these.”
Everything the stranger standing in front of her has said only made the situation more odd. Team dinner? Tradition? He clearly mixed up numbers and is at the wrong apartment.
“I’m sorry,” she starts, but is almost immediately cut off when another voice calls out from down the hallway.
“Jake!”
The man turns towards the voice and a look of recognition passes over his face as his smile seemingly becomes brighter at the sight of whoever said his name.
“Q!” He says brightly, before returning his attention to her. “I’m sorry, I must’ve mixed up the apartment numbers.”
“It’s no problem.” Reagan reassures him before he waves a goodbye and starts heading to the apartment next to hers. The curiosity gets the better of her and she glances over to see who “Q” was and that’s when everything comes to a halt.
Because Q, or cap as Jake also called him, is Quinn Hughes. Her ex-boyfriend. The love of her life. And now, apparently, her next door neighbor.
Quinn must have sensed another pair of eyes on him because he looks over and meets her gaze. A look of disbelief crosses over his face for a split second, his brows furrowed in confusion as he realizes who his teammate bothered in the mixup.
“Reagan?”
It might have been two years since the last time she saw him, but hearing her name rolling off his tongue still had the same effect on her as it did then.
“Quinn?” She asks in response, unable to comprehend that he’s standing less than 100 feet away from her. Quinn. Her Quinn.
“Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing here?”
“I, uh, just moved in a few days ago.” Reagan starts to explain and then a rush of worry hits her. “I finally got the job I’ve been waiting for and it just so happened to be here in Vancouver. I had no idea you lived in this building at all,”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Quinn says softly, cutting off her rambling. “Congratulations, I know how hard you worked to get through school and do everything you could to get this job.”
“Thank you.” Reagan murmurs, pushing her hair behind her ear and nervously dropping her gaze to the floor. All the heartbreak from the last few years has disappeared in the matter of seconds and it almost feels like she’s back there. In a time where they were still together and so in love with each other.
But Reagan knows that’s not her reality anymore. Now, she’s standing in her doorway looking at the man who she gave her heart to all those years ago, but now he’s almost a stranger. Just her neighbor in a new city.
“Uh, I know this is probably unexpected and way too sudden, but do you want to come over for dinner? There’s definitely enough food and everything.”
Reagan feels a wave of surprise wash over her at his offer and even though her heart is screaming to say yes, she knows she can’t accept. At least not right now.
“Thank you for offering, but I’m okay. Still trying to get adjusted and all. Another time?” She replies, trying to push away the want that’s arisen within her. She wants to spend time with him even if she hasn’t seen him in a while and her heart is still a little broken. Quinn nods in understanding, a strand of hair falling perfectly over his forehead, but Reagan sees the familiar look of sadness in his blue green eyes.
A loud yell erupts from inside Quinn’s apartment disrupting the quiet air around the two of them.
“I should probably get back. Almost the entire team is in there and I don’t trust a lot of them by themselves.” Quinn chuckles and Reagan feels a smile tug at her lips. “It was really great to see you. I hope Vancouver treats you well.”
“Thanks, Quinn. Same to you.”
Quinn flashes you a sweet smile before ducking back inside. When the door to his apartment closes behind him, Reagan lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. Not only does she have to navigate life in a new city with a new job, but now she has to handle living next to her ex, the man who was her everything, on top of everything else.
The memories that came rushing back the moment she realized it was him standing in the hallway linger in her mind for a little longer. All the shared kisses, big hugs after good and bad games, nights on the porch at the lake house in the offseason, his unwavering support for everything she did, early mornings spent cuddling and so much more.
Reagan knew when they broke up that she would miss him for the rest of her life, but it feels like the wound has been reopened seeing him unexpectedly in person. Of course, she’s kept tabs on him by tuning into a few Canucks games and for a while, Jack was sending her regular life updates but those slowly came to an end.
Her heart aches knowing she is going to have to see him more often now that they’re neighbors. It’s a curveball she never saw coming or even considered when she chose to move to the city that he lives and plays in. But here she is.
With a shake of her head, Reagan clears her mind and pushes open her front door again. There’s relief that the entire interaction is over, both with Quinn and his teammate, but in a strange way, she also misses talking to him already.
Nothing could prepare her for randomly seeing the man she still loved years after he broke her heart.
A few days later, Reagan gets a strong sense of deja vu. She’s attempting to put together the coffee table for the third time, after the first two tries were unsuccessful, when there’s a knock at her door.
A heavy sigh slips past your lips as she drops the useless IKEA instructions to the floor. She’s already preparing a little speech in her head in anticipation it’s another one of Quinn’s teammates who got the apartment numbers mixed up again.
“Hey, sorry, Quinn is-“ Reagan starts as the door swings open and reveals the blue green eyed, curly haired hockey player who lives next door. “here?” She finishes, more like a question than a statement.
“Hey,” Quinn says, flashing that soft smile that makes her heart melt. “I, um,” he pauses, almost as if collecting his thoughts to get exactly what he wants to say correct. “I know how hard it is to move to a new place by yourself having done it myself so I wanted to help with anything you need. And I brought breakfast too. Hopefully your usual order hasn’t changed.”
Reagan’s heart swells with adoration, remembering this is the version of Quinn she fell in love with. The kind, thoughtful man who continuously surprised her in ways she never thought possible. And against all odds, here he is again.
She’s stunned into silence for a few seconds, overwhelmed by his offer. It’s genuine and shows he cares even after all this time but allowing him to help means spending time with him, reconnecting, and Reagan doesn’t know if she’s ready for that just yet.
But she also really wants that coffee table to be built. So for right now, the pros outweigh the cons.
“Thank you so much, Quinn. That’s really thoughtful of you and honestly, there are a few things I’ve realized I can’t accomplish by myself no matter how hard I try.”
Quinn’s smiling genuinely now. He can’t believe she’s letting him help despite the fact they haven’t seen each other in a while minus the mixup the other day. But he doesn’t care. This is his opportunity to catch up with her and he’s going to cherish every second.
“That’s why I’m here.” He chuckles in response, handing her the iced coffee and bagel he picked up for her. “Order still the same?” He asks again, more out of curiosity than anything.
“Order’s still the same. I’m more surprised you remembered it.”
Of course he remembers it. He remembers everything about Reagan despite the fact there was a time where he wished he could forget everything about her. He remembers the show she would only watch before bed and the scent of her favorite shampoo. He remembers the feel of her hand in his and the way he always felt so safe with her in his arms. He remembers her go-to lazy dinner and the songs she loved screaming at the top of her lungs in the car.
He remembers it all. But now, Reagan feels like a stranger for so many reasons.
Quinn takes this moment to really look at her. She’s still breathtakingly gorgeous. but he notices her wavy dark brown hair is lighter than he remembers it. Maybe she got highlights or has dyed it since the breakup. There are more freckles scattered across her cheeks than there were when they met. She’s wearing an old oversized Umich shirt that he realizes at the last second might be his. But when her brown eyes meet his, any anxiety he feels about this moment falls away.
This is still Reagan. His Reagan. Yes, it’s been a while but he knows her. She hasn’t changed that much. If she’s letting him help and being friendly, maybe she doesn’t hate him like he always thought she did after the way things ended between them.
“Of course I remember it.” Quinn says with a shrug, trying not to reveal how much he misses her. “So what do you need help with first?” He asks as Reagan waves him into her apartment and closes the door behind him.
Reagan explains her dilemma with the uncooperative coffee table which takes first priority before going through a small list of things she wanted to get done today like unpack her kitchen and finish building her vanity. Quinn nods along to everything she says, seemingly happy to offer his help even if he doesn’t] have to.
“Thank you,” Reagan says softly, the two words holding more meaning than she ever thought could be possible. Quinn gives her a slightly confused look as he sits down on the floor ready to tackle the coffee table. “For everything. You didn’t have to bring breakfast over and offer to help me get settled in considering we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but I really do appreciate it.”
“I’d do anything for you, Rea.”
Hearing that one line and the use of the nickname only Quinn has ever used for her sends a shiver through her body. She feels her heart being tugged in his direction again even if it never fully healed from their end years ago, but she desperately tries to keep herself in check. Their relationship came to an end because of him. Quinn wanted to focus solely on hockey and his need to constantly get better on the ice was more important than keeping her in his life.
So she moved on after he broke her heart. Or she thought she did until she saw him the other day. Her feelings have rushed back in no time, like nothing happened in the first place, but Reagan knows better.
“I know,” she murmurs, voice quiet as the wave of emotions hit her. “I’m going to start unpacking the kitchen. Let me know if you need any help. The instructions have been useless.” Quinn chuckles, that adorable sound filling her with a sense of happiness she hasn’t felt in so long. To this day his laugh is still one of her favorite sounds in the whole entire world.
For a good hour or so, the two of them work in comfortable silence. A random playlist Reagan selected is playing from a bluetooth speaker and every once in a while, she hears Quinn curse under his breath. She catches herself smiling a few times, the familiarity of it all bringing back so many memories.
“Reagan?” Quinn tentatively disrupts the quiet as she’s reaching up to place a stack of plates in a cabinet above the kitchen counter.
“Hm?” She hums in response, letting out a sign of relief when she gets the plates on the shelf. Quinn is grinning at the sight of her on her tiptoes trying to reach a higher shelf in her new home. This is something else that hasn’t changed since they were together. She still refuses to use any help to reach higher places despite being small enough that it would be beneficial.
“Coffee table is finished.” He says, pointing over his shoulder when she turns around to look at him. “You weren’t lying about it being difficult, but it’s done.” A look of surprise crosses over her face and something about her right then makes Quinn’s heart ache.
He knows he messed up when he broke it off with her years ago. His head was too stuck on hockey and only hockey. There was an unbearable amount of pressure on his shoulders after being drafted and he felt like he had to not only live up to the expectations, but defy them. And through all that, he lost the greatest thing to ever happen to him.
Reagan.
The woman who showed him unconditional love from the moment they met in college all the way through to the very end. Reagan who was there for every accomplishment and disappointment that happened in his career. The woman who always made sure he knew so many people, including her, were unbelievably proud of him at all times no matter what happened.
He never thought he would get to see her again and somehow here he is in her apartment that’s right next to his in the city that he’s been his second home for the last six years.
“Told you I wasn’t lying.” She laughs, the sound filling Quinn with joy like it always has. “We can tackle the vanity next if you’re up for it. It’s a lot for just one person.”
She leads him into her office where the unopened box is laying on the ground where she envisions the piece of furniture. Without a moment of hesitation, they get started on building the vanity as conversation flows freely. Quinn fills her in on everything going on with the Canucks from new teammates to how he likes being captain. She listens as he recommends some new restaurants and places to check out around the city and she fills him in on how everyone is doing back home in Michigan. Quinn asks about her new job and he can’t hide how proud he is when she tells him she got accepted into the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra.
Reagan has been playing the french horn since fourth grade and that’s the entire reason they met in college since Quinn ran into her at a UMich football game when she was part of the marching band. He remembers being struck by how pretty she was then even in the slightly unflattering bright blue and yellow uniform she was wearing with her instrument in hand. Over time as they became friends and eventually got together, Quinn learned her biggest dream was to play in a symphony. It’s difficult to get a seat anywhere, but if anyone could do it, Quinn knew it would be her. Reagan was talented, always has been, and knowing all that hard work finally paid off makes him beyond happy.
And secretly, he’s never been so glad that the music she loves so much brought her to the city he lives in now.
“I was nervous about being accepted. It’s one of the most prestigious symphonies on the West Coast, but I was sick of being in Michigan again even if I do love it there, so I took a chance and it worked out.” Reagan explains shyly, her eyes dropping to her fiddling fingers.
“Hey,” Quinn says, abandoning the half built vanity for a second to take hold of her hands. “I’m so proud of you. You deserve that seat and it’s incredibly brave of you to pack up and move halfway across the continent to live out your dream.”
They both are aware of the unspoken words there. That it was also brave to come back to the city where their love story crashed and burned.
“Thank you, Quinny. That means a lot.” The words are barely out of Reagan’s mouth before Quinn is wrapping his strong arms around her in a tight embrace. She melts into the hug, her head resting on his shoulder and lets the comfort wash over her. Quinn lets out a small sigh of relief. He missed having her in his arms and the feeling of peace that surrounds him is unmistakable.
God, he messed up so bad by letting her go, by ruining the best thing he’s ever had because he thought he couldn’t balance the pressure of being an NHL player and a relationship at the same time.
“Good to know Huggy Bear’s still got it.” Reagan teases him, reluctantly pulling away even if she wants to stay in his arms forever. But she can’t. She’s not that girl for him anymore.
“Yeah, yeah.” Quinn laughs, used to hearing the nickname his teammates gave him years ago when he joined the team. He meets her gaze and it’s then that an idea hits him. Reagan can see the look of hesitation in his blue green eyes, but waits patiently for him to continue. “Whenever you get settled in here and everything, would you maybe want to go skating? I know we used to go all the time and there’s this cool rink downtown you would love, but no pressure if not. I’m sure you’re going to be busy with work and adjusting to a new city.”
Reagan knows she should say no. She knows it would be better to leave the past in the past. But something about the way Quinn asks with pure honesty tugs at her and the small hope that maybe their love could get a second chance after all this time blossoms.
So she says yes.
“I would love that. Just text me when you’re free and we can schedule something.”
Quinn’s happiness at her response is immediately noticeable even though he tries to hide it so it’s not as obvious. The smile Reagan adores so much is on full display and she couldn’t be happier to have him in her half furnished apartment just days after she moved back to the city where her heart was broken.
Before she can get too swept up in the emotions, she gently pushes Quinn’s chest and giggles.
“We’ve got a list of things to do, Hughes. Get back to work.”
And with that, both of them work together to get through all the tasks Reagan wanted accomplished. That familiar sense of peace envelops the apartment and for the first time in a long time, Reagan’s heart isn’t heavy with sadness. Instead, it swells with joy like no other.
Between Quinn’s busy schedule of games, practices and traveling and Reagan’s new work schedule of getting acquainted with the symphony and joining practices of her own, it took a few weeks for them to find a day to go skating together.
But in that time, a constant stream of texts were exchanged and phone calls were made whether Quinn was next door or on the road. Reagan learned all about what happened in Quinn’s life for the two years she wasn’t part of it and heard so many stories of his teammates and his brothers, who she also missed since she hadn’t spoken to either of them since the breakup.
Quinn got a glimpse into who Reagan is now and if possible, he feels himself falling even harder for her all over again. His feelings never truly went away but every time he heard her laugh or she shared a secret, he knew that even after all that time, this girl is still the one he wants.
Finally, the agreed upon Sunday arrives and Quinn’s quiet, but strong knock sounds through Reagan’s apartment as she pulls a beanie on her head.
“Coming!” She yells, almost tripping on her way to the door. She’s nervous and excited all at once. When the door swings open, Reagan’s breath is stolen away for a second as Quinn stands in front of her looking extra cozy and comfy bundled up for the cold. His eyes are alight with wonder and his somewhat wild brown curls are peeking out from under his favorite navy blue beanie. He has a hoodie on under his winter jacket and there’s the faintest blush spreading across his cheeks.
“Hey, Rea,” Quinn greets her with a bright smile. The old nickname still sends a jolt of happiness through her veins even though he’s used it frequently over the last few weeks and she can’t help but feel hopeful. Maybe this is just the two of them going skating together, but there is a sense of something more in the air and if there’s even a chance Quinn wants to give their relationship another chance, Reagan is all in. She can tell he’s grown and matured in the time they’ve spent apart and if she didn’t see that, it would be much easier to ignore the feelings she has for him.
“Hey!” She replies, giving him a quick hug. Quinn is a little surprised, but welcomes the embrace for a moment before she pulls away and starts speaking in excitement. “Don’t worry about skates for me, I still use my favorite pair,” Reagan lifts her white pair of Bauer skates up and then glances at her warm, but cute winter outfit, “and I’m dressed for the weather since you said the rink is outside.”
“You’re all prepared,” Quinn chuckles, “Let’s go then.” He says almost sheepishly like he’s nervous all of the sudden, and reaches for her hand. Reagan intertwines her gloved fingers with his and offers him a reassuring smile to silently say “this is okay.” The rink is just a few blocks away from their shared apartment building so the walk over is cold, but brief and full of laughter and conversation between the two of them.
Reagan catches a glimpse of the rink when Quinn stops walking at the opening of a large clearing and her heart starts racing.
They are at Robson Square Ice Rink. The prettiest rink in all of Vancouver in Reagan’s opinion, but it’s also her favorite and was dubbed her and Quinn’s spot when they were dating.
“Quinn,” Reagan breathes out in disbelief. She doesn’t need to say anything else, Quinn can read all the emotions on her face. He squeezes her hand in reassurance while flashing her a sweet smile before leading her to the benches to help put her skates on.
“Come on,” He murmurs and Reagan swallows down the emotions in an effort to take in every detail of this moment. She immediately starts unlacing her skates when they claim a spot on the bench, but Quinn insists on doing it himself.
“I can do it myself, you know.”
“I know,” Quinn replies cheekily. “But you deserve to be taken care of so let me do it even if it’s just this one time.” Reagan sighs, in pure dramatics, which makes Quinn chuckle but her heart is warm and fuzzy. This is why she fell in love with him in the first place. He’s the most caring person she knows and would do anything for her. That much clearly hasn’t changed.
Reagan keeps her eyes on Quinn as he ties her skates perfectly until he taps the heel of her right skate to signal that she’s good to go and freezes. Her brows furrowed in confusion for a moment until it hits her.
Quinn got these skates for her years ago. They were her first pair and one of the best gifts she has ever received. But after taking them out for a few spins, she noticed that he had them customized. There was a little blue 43 printed onto the outside of the heel on her right skate which is exactly what Quinn is staring at right now.
“It’s still there.” He says quietly, tracing the two numbers before meeting Reagan’s eyes. It’s almost as if he expected her to cover the numbers up herself after the breakup and although she was angry about how everything happened, these skates are a reminder of the blissful beginning and she wanted that to remain untouched.
“Of course it is.” And just like earlier, this feels as if the simple moment holds a double meaning. As if that tiny 43 is a sign of hope for Quinn that he might get a second chance. That there’s still a spot for him in Reagan’s heart.
They share soft smiles and sit in the comfortable silence for a moment as Quinn puts his skates on. When Quinn takes her hand to help her onto the ice, Reagan lets herself be fully present. Months ago she never thought about reconnecting with the man who broke her heart, but now she couldn’t be happier that they’re friends again. She missed him beyond words.
It took a few laps around the rink to get her footing back, but once she did, she was challenging Quinn to races and constantly giggling as he tried to distract her from skating smoothly. Despite being one of the most well recognized people in the entire city of Vancouver, no one bothered Quinn on the public outdoor rink even if a few of the younger kids kept a watchful eye on him as if they recognized the captain of their favorite hockey team.
“How is it so far?” Quinn asks out of the blue as the two of them are skating at a leisurely pace. Reagan takes in the city skyline around them before meeting his gaze.
“Skating? Good! I always forget how fun it is and-”
“No,” he gently cuts you off and shakes his head, “I mean living in Vancouver. I know it’s been a huge adjustment for you.”
“Oh,” Reagan says in realization, taking a moment to think. “It’s been way better than I expected, honestly.” Quinn raises his eyebrows in surprise as an adorable smile blossoms across his face.
“Really?”
“Yeah and I have a sneaky feeling you already know you’re a big part of why that is, Quinny.” His cheeks become pink with blush and he looks down briefly before stopping the two of you for a second.
“Have you ever thought of giving us a second chance?”
The question is like a punch to the gut. Not only because Reagan never saw it coming, but it is exactly what she’s thought of asking Quinn herself a thousand times.
Has she thought of giving them another chance? Yes. Every single day she wonders what it would be like to be his girlfriend again. To allow herself to feel the overwhelming love she has for the oldest Hughes brother. To feel at home again because he’s back in her life. And Reagan has come to realize that she wants a second chance with Quinn more than anything.
He’s proven that he has grown and matured from the man he was years ago when he shattered her heart into a million pieces. He’s shown that her life and her dreams are just as important and he’ll do anything he can to support her every single day. His love has been on display since the first moment she saw him in the hallway of their apartment building weeks ago.
“Yes. Every single day.” Reagan responds with nothing but pure honesty.
“Me too.” Quinn almost whispers, trying not to let his nerves show. He’s biting his lip, a nervous habit of his that hasn’t disappeared. “Uh, you can say no if you’re not ready or anything, but would you like to go out with me? On a proper first date? Again?”
Instantly, a beaming smile is on Reagan’s face as his words process in her mind. It’s happening. Something she’s dreamed of for so long, it’s real.
“I’d love that, Quinn.” She hugs him tight, relishing in the joy rushing through her veins. Nothing could make this moment any better and when Quinn kisses her temple, also feeling the happiest he’s been in a long time, everything in the world feels right again.
#winter fic exchange 2k25#quinn hughes#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes fics#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes imagines#nhl fic#nhl imagine#quinn hughes fluff#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes fanfiction#hockey fic#hockey imagine#hughes brothers#quinn hughes x oc
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kiss her you fool | 심재윤
pairing. jake sim x idol!gf!reader
as if accidentally convincing both of your fans on several occasions that you two hate each other wasn’t enough, jake had to go ahead and mumble some sleepily ambiguous words on a weverse live and involve the whole internet. to salvage whatever shreds are left of the plan, you are to attend a baseball game together.
genre. fluff
a/n. the third & last part to loverboy is here!! sorry for the wait i wrote 4 different drafts until i settled on this one lol enjoy!! xx
[ › first part ] [ › second part ]
jake is a chill guy. he’s cool-headed, efficient, steady under pressure, always on the side of healthy optimism. that’s the story he sells to others—and to himself. but deep down, he knows he might be a bit of a fraud. worse, he can feel it.
his hands are drenched in sweat as they clench and unclench inside his pockets, chasing an old gum wrapper around to distract himself. the tag of his shirt pokes at his neck, making him want to barbarically tear off his clothes in front of thousands of baseball fans.
but instead, he dutifully follows you through row upon row of seats and keeps his gaze on the back of your head.
so, yes. jake is a very chill guy.
you keep glancing back at him, the lower half of your face obscured by a black mask. still, he knows you’re flashing him reassuring smiles, and he feels bad for how nervous he is. if he’s not staring at you, his eyes are darting around, scanning his surroundings like one of the baseball players warming up in the field might suddenly climb the walls and come for him.
“i think these are it,” you say, glancing at your tickets before sliding them into your back pocket.
jake wordlessly takes the seat next to you, adjusting his cap to shield as much of his face as possible. he knows it’s futile—staying hidden is the exact opposite of why he’s here, but habits die screaming, or something like that.
his shoulders tense for a split second at the touch of your hand on his thigh, and guilt gnaws at him when you pull away almost instantly. he meets your eyes and musters a smile. not that you can see it beneath his matching mask.
“we can leave any time,” you say in a soft tone, looking at him from under your lashes. “i don’t care what the plan is. if you’re uncomfortable, we can ditch this whole thing and get ramen at cu.”
jake’s heart swells, wanting nothing more than to do exactly that, but he knows it’s his fault you’re in this situation in the first place. well, for the most part. he can’t tell you that, though. he knows you will just dispute it until he starts believing it himself, and that would only prove to him once again that his backbone inevitably snaps in the face of a pretty girl.
no matter that it’s his pretty girl, and he’d do anything for you anyway. breaking his spine included. the fact remains—he ran his mouth on live, so now he’s got to face the consequences.
swallowing the lump in his throat, he shakes his head and threads his fingers through yours, tucking both hands into the pocket of his jacket.
jake grins. “no, this is fun.” you send him a flat look, but he just nods towards the field. “i’ve never been to a baseball game. now we can take it off our bucket list.”
“sure,” you say, sounding wryly amused. “we don’t have a bucket list but at least now we’ve got something to cross off. i’ve also always wanted to be on the kiss cam. guess it’s our lucky day.”
“lucky us,” jake says, his lips curling as he feels your hand squeeze his. he casts a glance around, then leans forward, swiftly pulling both of your masks down with one hand. it’s a brief kiss, just a soft peck that’s a bit inconvenient since both of you are wearing hats, forcing him to tilt his head. but when he pulls back, he sees the way you’re chasing after his lips, eyes still closed, and goes just a little insane.
you look entirely too pretty to leave it at just one kiss. you deserve all the kisses in the world, actually, so he captures your lips again, tasting the cherry gloss he bought you last week because he likes it a little too much. it’s the same one you wore on your first date together.
jake’s lips brush against yours once more, deeper and a bit slower this time as if savouring the moment. you sigh into the kiss and pull back to catch your breath, your lips lingering just above his. your eyes are still closed, but jake doesn’t mind one bit, taking the moment to let his gaze wander over every single feature of yours that he knows by heart. and would you look at that? suddenly, he couldn’t care less that he’s sitting in a huge stadium.
you tear your gaze away from his lopsided grin. “let’s save some of this for later, yeah?” you say, and jake is not ashamed of the groan rumbling in the back of his throat as he hides his face in the crook of your shoulder. how else is a man supposed to act when your lips look so plumb and kissable, and your voice sounds like that? hopeless.
you’re looking at him, a smile tugging at your lips when you notice an older lady a few rows down elbowing the person next to her, gesturing not-so-subtly at the two of you. under your breath, you mumble, “the ahjummas down there are looking at us.”
jake leans back, glancing at them from the corner of his eye before lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug. “can you blame them? we’re not exactly hard to look at.”
“your modesty astonishes me,” you say, sounding unimpressed.
jake raises an eyebrow and leans forward on his knees, a smirk tugging at his lips. “we’d make beautiful babies, and you know it.”
you snort, shaking your head. “that’s what ni-ki said this morning. something about sacrificing himself for his future nephews and nieces because at least he knows they’ll be cute. i’m still not sure what he meant by that.”
jake cocks his head and pokes your side when you playfully mirror him. “he came down this morning when yuki was talking to us in the kitchen,” jake says, shifting in his seat.
he grimaces as he remembers the conversation with jungwon who was basically a zombie at that hour after having to stay up late as a consequence of jake’s faux pas on weverse. “ni-ki said he was going to take care of this for us. i didn’t know what he meant at first, but then sunghoon sent me a screenshot of what ni-ki posted on weverse. it was a selfie of him, facing the other way so his left side was showing.”
“wait, seriously?” your eyebrows shoot up, and jake nods, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
“yep. he called himself a martyr in the group chat. said he was taking one for the team.”
you gasp dramatically, holding a hand to your chest. “a martyr? for us? what’s next, a shrine in the dorm?”
jake laughs, clearly entertained by your idea. “i mean, we could probably arrange one. heeseung’s room is big enough to fit ten.”
you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “that’s… actually true. but did it work?”
jake bites his lip, glancing at his phone. “i haven’t checked yet, but sunoo sent me a text earlier. apparently, engenes are seeing right through it.”
“what are they saying?” you ask, genuinely curious.
“they’re saying belift gave up ni-ki for damage control,” jake chuckles.
before you can say anything in response, your phone vibrates, the sudden buzz pulling your attention away. you reach for it, ignoring jake’s whiny protests as you untangle your hand from his. “hello?”
jake pouts and scoots closer, pressing his ear against the backside of your phone. you roll your eyes and click the side button to turn the volume up, letting him hear the voice on the other end, your manager’s. “…are you in your seats?”
you hum and nod, nearly knocking jake’s hat off with the movement. “yea, we’re here. we got here a bit early, so there are still a few empty seats. but the game should be starting soon. what’s up? did something happen?”
“well,” your manager says, her tone uncertain, and jake’s heart drops. “about half an hour ago, minjun posted the dance challenge you and jake filmed for their tiktok. it…er, seemed to stir up a bit more of a reaction than we expected…again.”
you exchange a confused glance with jake. nothing about the videos seemed off—he’d double-checked, paranoid he might’ve accidentally done something ridiculous again, like giving you a lap dance or declaring his undying love on camera.
filming those two dance challenges had already been an ordeal. the pr team was relentless, adamant on pushing you and jake to drop as many microscopic hints as possible to suggest something was going on between you two, but it was so painfully awkward that you ended up with enough unusable footage to last a month.
jake had been a giggling mess the entire time, finding it all so silly, like he was on some overly scripted dating show. you, on the other hand, couldn’t stop tripping over your own feet, bumping into him more times than he could count. at least you managed to do it on beat.
regardless, even though filming the final video had been a struggle, it was ready to go. jake had made sure of that.
it was just another dance challenge, he thinks to himself, trying to push aside the unease creeping up. whatever’s going on now, it’s gotta be grey sweater guy’s fault.
“what do you mean?” your voice brings him back, your curiosity clear. “we didn’t do anything…right?”
“well,” your manager says again, clearing her throat. “since we couldn’t really get any dance footage of you acting like, you know, an actual couple—”
jake snorts.
“—minjun ended up keeping the last few seconds of a video when he posted it to the enhypen tiktok page. he didn’t give us a heads-up before doing it.”
your eyes widen as you send a quick look in jake’s way. “is he going to get in trouble?” you say into the phone, and jake pulls a funny face. is that what he was supposed to feel? concern? apparently, he likes the guy even less than he thought.
“that’s the thing,” your manager goes on. “everyone seems to like it?” she sounds quite surprised about it herself, and jake has to strain his neck to make sure he heard correctly.
“everyone?” he echoes in disbelief, and you nudge him when he inches impossibly closer, practically climbing onto your lap.
“what do you mean everyone?” you ask as jake moves back a little. “what were we doing?”
your manager lets out a long sigh, as if hoping you wouldn’t ask. “after you left for the game, minju and some of the others decided to go through the videos again, hoping to find something a bit more exciting. they ended up finding one where you two were dancing really well—everything was clean, no one was falling or laughing, and the chemistry wasn’t too forced.”
she pauses, and you can hear her shifting slightly. “but then, right at the end, you trip over your feet and… well, you kind of just leave the frame.”
jake frowns, meeting your puzzled gaze. you had filmed so many different versions, they have all blended into a nightmarish concoction of blurred memories, making it hard to recall which one she means. “i leave the frame and then what?”
the silence stretches on for a beat, and jake feels a spark of irritation bubbling up at the theatrics. horrified, he starts to wonder if he’s accidentally flashed the whole world and didn’t even realise.
“the entire thing only lasts two seconds, but you stumble, jake rushes after you, and you both end up out of frame—but we can still see part of it because of the mirrors. jake has his arms around you as you both tumble to the floor, laughing.” she says in a matter-of-fact tone, then adds quietly, “minjun removed the music at the end, so you can hear the laughter.”
jake doesn’t even know how to respond. sure, the company can post whatever they want of him, but they usually don’t. there’s an unspoken rule of decency and respect among the team, and he’s at least asked before anything goes up. this? this is just wrong.
he doesn’t realise that you’re voicing his exact thoughts into the phone until a loud cheer ripples through the crowd. a woman he’s seen on tv before appears on the big screen over the baseball field. she’s offering some welcoming words, and jake figures the match must be starting soon.
“—he’s lucky people are receiving it well, but he has to know that it’s not okay to just post that without our knowledge or consent,” you say, your voice tinged with more disappointment than frustration.
“i know, trust me. yuki and i made sure any future genius moves from him go through us—and you two—first. i know you're not mad, just…" she sighs, papers shuffling. “look, almost 80% of the comments are positive, calling you a cute, good-looking couple and all that. the rest are either in denial or upset, but it doesn’t matter. more people are for it than against it, so just enjoy the game. you don’t have to go through with what we discussed if you don’t want to. things are looking good, y/n.”
jake doesn’t pay attention to the rest of the conversation, having heard enough. he leans back, resting a hand on the back of your seat and absentmindedly draws circles onto your skin.
you mutter something into the phone and end the call, melting into jake’s side with a sigh. he coos, pulling you closer, and presses a kiss to the top of your hat while humming. “you know what?” he says quietly.
“what?” your voice is muffled as you rub a hand over your face, looking up at him.
he grins. "at least they’re also calling us a cute and good-looking couple. ni-ki will be a proud uncle to our gorgeous kids.”
you can’t help but laugh, hiding your face in his chest and, at once, jake finds it hard to be bothered by anything happening on the internet or even outside this stadium. he has you in his arms and the rest of the afternoon off to enjoy a baseball game. what concerns could he possibly have?
soon after, the players file out onto the field, and the match begins. both of you end up having a lot more fun than expected, and jake briefly leaves to go grab some food and drinks.
he’s walking back up the stairs, looking for you and not even avoiding eye contact with people around like he did before. right now, he’s just a guy hugging two cups of soda and a pile of snacks to his chest, wandering the rows in search of his girlfriend.
he must look as lost as he feels because someone suddenly taps him on the arm. looking down, he sees the two older women from before. they’re grinning up at him, and jake hesitantly returns the smile, realising a moment too late that they can’t see it due to his mask.
“you’re three rows up, darling,” the woman on the left with the big, blue-framed glasses says, nodding over her shoulder and vaguely gesturing to where you’re sitting. his face lights up when your eyes meet, and you raise a hand to wave at him. he thanks them and makes to walk up the stairs when she stops him, placing a hand on his arm.
a small voice in the back of his head screams ‘stranger danger’ in capital letters at him, but he brushes it aside, trying to figure out what she could possibly want and whether that might be his kidney or one of the napkins he’s holding.
“you have a very beautiful girlfriend,” she says in that ambiguous, sage voice that the elderly have, and he’s caught off guard. not due to the voice, of course, but the mention of you. jake blinks, processing her words before nodding slowly.
“she’s not, erm, i mean, of course, she’s—”
the woman in the green cardigan laughs delightfully, eyes twinkling with amusement. “sweetie, breathe. we’re not the cia. you can talk about your girlfriend. in fact, you should. it keeps you both young.”
jake is too stunned to muster a reply. he eyes them carefully, wondering if this is a weird interaction or if he’s just never talked about you to anyone before. a second later, he realises—he really hasn’t. not to a stranger, not to anyone.
the thought repeats in his head, looping like a broken record. he’s never talked about you to anyone. and yet, it feels like praises about you live right on the tip of his tongue, like they’ve always been there, just waiting for an opening. so he tries it out. “her heart is even more beautiful,” he says shyly, testing the words, rolling them over like he’s trying to get a feel for them. “which is near impossible but she somehow makes it work.”
it feels weird, to be honest. like he’s revealing a well-buried national secret and endangering the country. the two women share a meaningful glance that doesn’t go unnoticed by him. his stomach twists. jake’s gaze flickers toward you, and an overwhelming wave of emotions crashes over him.
it’s more obvious now than ever. jake is stupidly in love with you. so much so that he has made an utter fool of himself time and time again in the name of keeping you a secret. like love could be something silent, something that exists in the shadows without growing restless. like it wouldn’t claw at the walls of his chest, begging to be let out.
he truly did think loving you quietly would make him feel better about everything. safer. less exposed. but now, faced with the weight of his own realisation, he sees how wrong he’d been. what was the point of all that caution if it only made him feel like this—like he’s been holding his breath for months, maybe even years?
now, he’s given the chance to do the complete opposite. and for the first time, he wants to take it. he wants to love you loudly, unapologetically. because it’s what you deserve. because it’s what he wants.
he exhales, glancing back at you. you’re focused on your phone, scrolling through something with a tiny crease between your brows. probably checking the responses to the tiktok, probably making sure minjun hasn’t ruined both your careers. always so careful, so thoughtful.
“she’s… incredible,” he says, the words tumbling out before he can second-guess them. but they feel right, sitting on his tongue like they belong there. he doesn’t need to say more than that. doesn’t need to explain how you always make people feel comfortable, how you remember the smallest details about everyone you meet, how you laugh with your whole body like it’s the first time you’ve ever found something funny.
the women smile knowingly, and jake lets out a soft breath, something inside him settling.
“i’m very lucky.”
“she’s lucky, too,” the green cardigan woman says, her voice warm. “treat each other well, yes? a love like yours is rare. don’t do it the dishonour of keeping it in the shadows.”
jake lets out a small, breathy laugh, caught somewhere between flustered and amused. he ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck, then nods—not just out of politeness, but because he hears her. really hears her.
the woman gives his arm a gentle pat before turning back to her friend, their conversation shifting elsewhere. jake exhales, then moves, crossing the distance between you in quick strides, taking the steps two at a time.
“should i be jealous?” you greet him with a teasing smile, taking the snacks from his arms.
he snorts. “they were just being nice. said you’re beautiful, by the way, and something about…” he hesitates, eyes flicking toward the field. “well, just… nice things.”
you watch him for a second, noticing the shift in his expression. but you don’t press, just shrugging it off and pulling down one side of your mask to take a bite of your corndog. your gaze drifts back to the cheer team as they work the crowd, the energy in the stadium picking up.
jake tries to focus, eyes darting to the blur of blue as cheerleaders and fans break into coordinated moves. but his mind keeps wandering back to what he’d just been told. normally, he’s not one to easily take anyone’s word as gospel, but this time, he can’t help it. it’s not just that he agrees—it’s the fact that he’s surprised by how much he does.
didn’t he spend all week trying to wrestle with this? he doesn’t want to put his relationship on display for everyone to pick apart—that’s the last thing he wants. but now, sitting here with you by his side in jamsil baseball stadium, he can’t shake the feeling that it doesn’t matter.
he glances at you, completely unaware of his thoughts, and all he sees is his person. someone he never doubts. someone who loves him, and someone he loves in return. does anything else even matter?
occupied by his thoughts, jake doesn’t realise what’s happening around him until the clapping starts. he blinks, surprised, as you turn to face him, bright-eyed and joining in with the crowd. he looks around, confused for a moment, until his gaze lands on the jumbotron. instead of the game, it now shows a couple in the stands, both wearing the rival team’s merch. the man leans in and gives the woman a sweet kiss on the lips. her face turns red, and the crowd erupts in cheers.
it’s the kiss cam, jake realises, and reflexively claps with everyone else as the woman shyly hides her face behind his shoulder. the excitement echoes through the stadium, the chant growing louder.
he can’t help but smile as he watches them, their laughter infectious. “they’re adorable,” you comment, gaze still fixed ahead, oblivious to his smile. jake’s chest tightens, but the feeling isn’t quite discomfort. more like the recognition of something he hadn’t known he’d been longing for. something he now sees clearly.
your mask is hanging off your ear as you absentmindedly sip on your drink, and jake is so glad to see your lips again. it’s like running into an old friend he’s missed. sometimes, it feels like he spends more time missing them than actually getting to kiss them.
he’s about to reply when you suddenly choke, your back straightening in surprise. out of the corner of his eye, he sees people turning their heads, and even though the music is still blasting through the speakers, he’s sure he hears gasps rippling through the crowd.
without thinking, he shifts his attention away from you and glances up at the jumbotron for confirmation—and there it is. the two of you, front and centre, framed in a pink, sparkling heart.
his eyes flick to you as you glance around, your expression a mix of confusion and discomfort. it’s strange to see you so flustered when you’re usually the calm, collected one, especially in situations like this. but here you are, shifting awkwardly under the attention.
a voice from the crowd calls out, “kiss her, you fool!” followed by the sound of cameras clicking as everyone starts pulling out their phones. more voices join in, chanting in unison, and jake can see the tension in your body. you look uncomfortable, clearly not used to this sort of attention, and it’s hard to ignore.
he feels a wave of protectiveness, wanting to ease the situation and make you feel comfortable. seeing you out of your element like this—normally the one who knows how to handle everything—hits him differently. he’s already made up his mind, though.
this whole thing had been part of the plan from the start, and he’s not going to let it stress you out any longer. he wants to kiss you, right here, right now, because it feels right. it’s not about the spectacle, it’s about showing you how much he’s proud to have you by his side.
plus, you have quite literally already told him three times how being on the kiss cam was something you’ve always wanted to do before the game had even begun.
jake huffs a quiet laugh, his body moving on its own as he shifts in his seat. his gaze locks with yours, and he can’t help but grin at the sight of your panicked smile.
“guess we’re famous now?” you quip nervously, trying to make light of the situation. jake tries hard not to laugh, but the sound of it escapes before he can stop it.
he pulls down his mask, the crowd’s excitement swelling around you both.
he leans in, lowering his voice so only you can hear him. “what do you say?” he murmurs, tilting his head slightly. “can i kiss you?”
he can see you thinking it over, your brows furrowing as nervousness peels away and you weigh your options. he already knows what you’ll say, but he still gives you the space to respond.
“we don’t have to do this, jake,” you whisper, the soft tone in your voice trying to make sure he’s comfortable too, even with thousands of eyes on you.
he smiles, the tenderness in your voice unfailingly melting him even more. “we don’t,” he agrees with a small shake of his head. “but i’ve never not wanted to kiss you, and i’m not starting now.”
your lips part slightly, eyes flickering up to his. the shift is almost imperceptible, but you feel it—his sudden insistence, the way he’s making this moment so much more than just a joke. the kiss cam, the crowd, all of it suddenly feels like less of a spectacle and more like something personal. something you didn’t expect but, deep down, have always wanted.
it’s strange, this feeling, and for a second, you almost don’t know what to do with it. the uncertainty that used to cling to you in moments like this is fading, replaced by something that feels surprisingly soft, sure. jake’s not just trying to make a spectacle of you; he’s actually trying to share this with you, to let you know that this is something he wants too.
your heart skips a beat. there’s no need for words, but you’re caught in the moment. a quiet nod is all you can muster, small but certain. “okay.”
his smile spreads before he even realises it. jake leans in, movements slow but purposeful, drawing it out just a moment longer. the kiss is tender, soft at first—he feels your breath mingle with his, the warmth of you close, the way you fit against him. it’s not rushed, not for the camera. it’s real. it’s something he’s wanted to do for so long, but this—this feels more like an act of love than just a kiss on a jumbotron.
you smile into it, and jake can’t help but grin too, the way your happiness settles deep in his chest. he knows the crowd is cheering, but all he can hear is the soft, breathy sound you make, the one that means you’re happy. the one that makes everything inside him flutter.
when he pulls away, the roar of the stadium hits him like a wave, but it feels distant, almost muted. you tuck yourself into his side, the sound of your laugh soft and light. there’s no turning back now. the world can know, and in this moment, jake couldn’t care less.
‘operation: no hate, just date’ has done its job.
he presses a quick, sneaky kiss to your temple, his grin still lingering, all warmth and love. he wraps his arm around you, pulling you just a little closer, the moment between the two of you nothing but pure joy.
alright. maybe jake is not the chill guy he thought he was. but in this moment, he doesn’t need to be.
all he’s ever wanted to be was a lover boy, and now it feels like he’s finally on the right track.
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