#my roommate actually just looked over and asked if i was working on a paper bc im working on this so intensely in case u wanted to know

[s3aweed-brain]

[percy felt heat rise in his throat, the insinuation that he needed the praise, needed the fame made his face heat. octavian had no idea the kinds of things percy did, nor did the augur know why he did them. percy didn't want fame. he would've been perfectly fine staying sally jackson's kid on the upper east side, but life had different plans. percy took on prophecies to save other people from having to bear them, not because he wanted to be in the limelight. not that octavian understood the concept of self-sacrifice for any noble cause. and there it was again, octavian thinking everything was handed to percy, octavian using his parentage against him. it wasn't his fault his father was poseidon. and he didn't choose to leverage it against anyone, not unless it was necessary. percy ran a hand through his hair, unconsciously mirroring octavian's movement, tugging slightly, almost imperceptibly, trying to ground himself and tell himself that octavian was doing this on purpose. he didn't often lash out at people, it wasn't in his nature. but when percy did get angry... well, it wasn't the nicest thing he'd inherited from his dad, to say the least. there was just something about how easily octavian was brushing him aside, how cavalier he was being about all of it... like it didn't matter one bit that percy had been almost dying on a yearly-biyearly basis since he was twelve years old. he took a breath. you could say a lot of things about percy, but accusing him of needing fame? of wanting it? that wasn't one of them. he was happy where he was. there was too large a part of him, maybe, that was willing to put his head on the chopping block if it meant sparing someone else, but before octavian twisted it, he'd never thought of that as something dirty, or as something he should be ashamed of.]

[he'd been silent for a few seconds, steeping in what the blonde had said to him. when he spoke, his voice was softer than before, though no less firm] you're right. the gods are strategic about which of us they give attention to. [he met octavian's gaze] but i bet that kills you, doesn't it? you act like you wouldn't want a chance at the kinds of quests you're mocking me for. though, i guess that's the difference between us. you'd be doing it for yourself. i always did it for someone else.

[it was true. when percy was 14, he'd had a choice, he could've left The Prophesy to nico. had he taken that out, he probably wouldn't have been sent on any of the quests that followed. he made the choice to keep that burden off of nico, because he couldn't let the fate of olympus rest on the shoulders of a kid who was 11 at the time. he remembered the first time he went to olympus, and the goddess athena looked him in the face and told him his fatal flaw was personal loyalty. how he can't truly bring himself to see that as a weakness. he swallowed again, around the emotion that welled in his throat at those memories. he'd been through hell with annabeth because he refused to let her go it alone. he had nearly died in the sea of monsters because he couldn't bear to think of losing grover. time and time again, he had put his life on the line, but he'd done it because he couldn't let the price of someone else's be paid.]

[percy swallowed again, trying to refocus. he was still fighting to keep himself collected. he didn't even care if he gave octavian the satisfaction of knowing that, but he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking. if the augur wanted to cast stones of doubt into what percy did, let him. the larger part of percy knew a lot of what he was saying didn't matter much. he knew that the reason the gods placed importance on him so young was because he was a forbidden child, that children like him had been forbidden for a reason. that didn't fundamentally change the fact that he did so much. he rarely liked putting it in as many words, but percy knew that he'd taken actions that had saved lives. and he couldn't let octavian cheapen that. he wouldn't let octavian cheapen that. he took a steadying breath, clenching and flexing his hands again, more to dispel the nervous energy collecting in them than for any other reason]

it probably bothers you, doesn't it? not having a chance to prove yourself to the gods you try so desperately to please?

i can’t believe you’re back.

- @s3aweed-brain

"I can't believe you're still kicking."

[selfcarecap]

Dear Santa

✧ Logan Howlett x female!reader x Wade Wilson

✧ summary: Your best friend and roommate Wade is a little lonely over the holidays, third-wheeling with you and Logan the entire time. But the holidays are all about giving, so you and Logan decide to fulfil some of the more sexual wishes on Wade’s wishlist. Or: You have a threesome with Logan and Wade.

✧ warnings: smut 18+ (oral sex, piv sex, cum eating, frotting kinda, liittle bit of ass eating (f rec); deffffinitely attraction between Wade and Logan but the focus is on the reader), Christmas mention (just for the seasonal vibes, not the religion obv. wanted to make it neutral originally but sorry I needed Christmas vibes specifically!!), this is my first time writing Wade beyond a few lines, idk if I did him justice but either way this was so fun to write!

gorgeous dividers by @dollywons <3

✧ word count: 4.7k

Wade Wilson likes to flirt. That’s no secret. 

But he’s been even more flirty recently, in the weeks leading up to the winter holidays. In fact, he’s been so flirty that you had to check in with your boyfriend Logan to make sure that he doesn’t mind. 

And no, Logan doesn’t mind. If anything, he enjoys watching how Wade makes you squirm with the sexual remarks that you have to pretend are below your level but you actually quite enjoy. 

It started when you bought yourself some cute Christmas pyjamas, pink and with a cheesy pattern on them. 

“You look so cute, I could just eat you out,” Wade said as soon as he saw you in it. 

You sat down between him and Logan on the sofa, ready for your first December movie night, and you shared an unsure look with your boyfriend. 

“Don’t you mean you could just eat her up?” Logan asked, an eyebrow raised. 

Wade considered it for a moment. “Hmm, no. I said the right thing.”

You spent the rest of the night flustered, leaning into Logan and hiding your face in his neck as deeply as you could. 

-

The next time it happens is when you get out of the car after buying some festive decorations for your shared apartment with Wade. 

You’re getting the shopping bags from the back when you notice him still in the driver’s seat, leaning over to inspect the place you were just sitting. 

“What are you doing?” you ask Wade, cheeks heating up. 

“I was just checking if you were sitting in a pile of sugar, cause that ass is looking sweet.”

-

“You know why they call me Wilson?” he asks you over breakfast one time. 

“Because that’s your last name?”

“No, because I will soon be between your legs.”

You take a bite of your food, humming, “That one still needs some work.”

Wade nods, “I know, still experimenting on the execution. Thanks for the feedback.”

-

“Does my tongue taste funny to you?”

You roll your eyes at Wade. “Ew.”

“No, I mean it, I think I’m having an allergic reaction. Can you at least look at it?”

“Oh!” you hurry towards him. 

-

“You know, baby angel,” he tells you one afternoon, “I think you’re the only one who can still be on Santa’s nice list despite being so naughty.”

Your eyebrows inch closer together, “How am I naughty?”

“Your bedroom is right next to mine, Miss likes-being-spanked.”

“Oh…” is all you manage to say. 

“But from what I hear in there you are a good girl, so that checks out with Santa’s nice list.”

-

It’s not strange per se that he’s acting this way, but it still makes more sense when you find Wade’s Christmas wishlist. 

You’re in his bedroom to get back a hoodie of yours that he borrowed ‘because it smells like you’ and he wanted to cuddle it while he sleeps. He said it so sweetly that you couldn’t say no, though you hope cuddling is really all he did to it. 

You find the piece of paper jammed between the bedframe and the mattress, and it only catches your eye because of the messy ‘Dear Santa’ scribbled at the top. 

Wade is always graphic, but reading his wishlist still makes a tingle run up your spine. All that’s on the list is things he wants to do with you and to you, all of sexual nature, of course. Logan is involved too. 

You read Wade’s wishes and get giddy, running to your bedroom to show Logan. 

You’ve been struggling to find a meaningful Christmas gift for Wade, so this is going to be perfect. Now all you have to do is wait for the next horny joke – and you’re sure that won’t be long.

-

It’s Christmas Eve and you and Logan are watching some show when Wade comes in. It’s toasty warm, the fairy lights reflecting on the tv screen during every dark scene. You’re sitting between Logan’s spread legs with your back against his chest.

Wade sits down next to you two, eyes glued to your legs, bare underneath an oversized graphic t-shirt. You give him a minute before he says something.

His words come three seconds later.

“If your left leg is Thanksgiving, and your right leg is Christmas, can I visit you between the holidays?”

You lean to the side to glance up at Logan, who gives you a subtle nod. You settle back against his chest, “Sure.”

“Wait, what?” Wade’s jaw drops.

You giggle, humouring him, “What do you wanna do when you visit me between the holidays?”

He scrambles for an answer, still surprised at your words, “Since Logan is my little honey badger,” your boyfriend huffs from behind you, “and honey badgers are named after their favourite food, I wanna know if your honey is as sweet as I’ve imagined.”

You laugh but Logan grumbles, “If you wanna eat her pussy, just say that.”

Wade rolls his eyes, holding a hand to the side of his mouth, “Honey badgers are no fun,” he says to you, “But yes, I wanna eat your pussy.”

“Okay,” you say, smiling.

His eyes light up. “Okay? Like, you’re giving me your consent okay?” 

“Yes, Wade,” you giggle, watching him fall to his knees in front of the sofa as he gently pushes your legs apart. His fingers against your skin immediately make you feel warm.

Before Wade can get to your panties, Logan reaches around from behind you and pulls the hem of your shirt down, blocking Wade’s view. “Ah,” he chides, “No fucking manners. You kiss her first before you get between her legs.”

Wade doesn’t have to be told twice.

Your lips meet with a fervour exactly like you would expect from Wade. You figured he’s been lonely the last few weeks, single and alone while you and Logan are still in the honeymoon phase. You’re glad to provide some love for Wade. He deserves it.

While Wade almost bites your face off, Logan’s hands find your hips, gently circling the skin there, and you can practically feel the heat from your underwear radiating in the little space between you.

Logan knows your body so well by now that he can tell immediately when you’re getting needy. He reaches around you, taking hold of Wade’s jaw, interrupting the kiss.

“Now,” Logan commands.

“Don’t boss me around, the only one who can boss me around is this little thing,” Wade’s hand trails up your knee. You giggle, trying to suppress the moan you want to let out.

You spread your legs for Wade as he gets back on the carpeted floor, hands smoothing up your legs, playing with the hem of your panties. You want to tell him to stop teasing, the butterflies in your stomach almost too much to bear.

He laughs, “Oh, who am I kidding? I don’t have the self control to tease you like this.”

You lift your hips for Wade to pull your panties all the way down your legs, grateful that he doesn’t comment on how wet they already are. You don’t comment on how he stuffs them in his pocket.

Logan helps Wade spread your legs further, two sets of strong hands digging into the flesh of your thighs. You’re getting wetter by the second.

“This is even better than seeing Hugh Jackman oiled up and shirtless with ‘Like a Prayer’ playing,” Wade says when he sees your pussy.

“What?”

“Huge who?”

Wade ignores the questions. “God,” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss to your clit, and you resist the urge of your legs to weakly fall shut from the pleasure.

He takes his time with you, eating your pussy like a five course meal, making out with it like he never wants it to end. Wade moans against your skin even more than you moan from the pleasure.

He fucks you with one finger, then two, while he licks your clit, but it’s still not enough. Luckily, your boyfriend recognises your need.

“Quit squirming, will ya? So needy,” Logan scoffs, lifting your hips off him for a moment to pull down his sweats, taking out his hard cock. You give him a desperate nod before he can even ask anything, and Wade helps position you so that Logan can slowly sit you down on his dick, all three of you sighing in pleasure as he bottoms out.

“Mhmm, good girl. Much better. Was startin’ to get cold anyway.”

You nod mindlessly, pussy already pulsing around your boyfriend. 

“So fucking pretty,” Wade mumbles. He licks your clit, your pussy stuffed full with Logan’s dick.

Logan lifts your shirt over your head, discarding it in a corner of the sofa, playing with your tits from behind you. Wade looks up at your chest, tongue on your puffy clit, and moans so hard his eyes almost roll back. He brings a hand up to squeeze your tit, leaving his hand there.

“You close, baby?” Logan asks, able to feel your every squeeze around his cock, and you nod, grabbing his knee for support.

“Yeah, pretty girl, cum for us,” Wade parts with your pussy for just a split second to say this. Logan’s hand comes down from your boob to gently press down on the space between your abdomen and your pussy, and you feel everything three times more intensely.

Wade begins to suck on your clit, and that’s your undoing. You whimper as you try to fuck yourself on your boyfriend’s big cock just a little bit, squeezing around him, as Wade sloppily licks your clit to draw out your orgasm.

All of Logan’s willpower trying not to cum flows into your hips as he grabs you there. You feel a warm load of precum in your pussy, but he manages to resist the urge to cum, pulling you up and off his dick as soon as you stop pulsing with the aftershocks.

All three of you are out of breath. Logan turns you towards him to press a big kiss to your mouth, pinching your cheek, “You really needed to cum, hm? Did so well.”

“That’s three Michelin stars right there,” Wade says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking it afterwards.

You blink at Wade.

“Exceptional cuisine, worth a special journey?” he offers. 

“Michelin? I knew that guy…” Logan says, shaking his head a moment later, “You wanna keep going?”

You nod eagerly.

Your boyfriend smirks, “Let’s see if Wade can make you cum too.”

Wade puts a hand on his chest as he stands back up, hard dick tenting his sweatpants, “Je m’excuse. Were you not just there for me licking her pretty pussy until she came?”

Logan shrugs, “I was the one inside her, bub.”

Wade huffs, “That’s not how it works and you know it.”

You smile, pulling Wade’s face closer to kiss him again.

“Can I fuck you?” he asks in between kisses.

“Yes, but not yet.”

Logan completes your thought, “Not before I cum in her.” You smile at his possessiveness.

Wade puts his hands on his face, “Woah, wait. Did you two plan this? That’s so hot.”

You’re already on all fours, Logan getting on his knees behind you, rubbing his cock between your pussy lips. You sigh in pleasure, pawing at Wade’s sweatpants and pulling him to the sofa by the drawstrings.

He moans, pushing his sweats down and getting in front of you, “Well, merry fucking christmas to me.”

You kiss Wade by his hips and support yourself with a hand on his thigh. He gets the tiniest little bit harder, a brief flex of his dick, now fully hard. A drop of precum drips down, and you only just catch it with your palm before it lands on the sofa. 

Logan smiles behind you, “Can’t have him ruinin’ the sofa, hm, baby?”

You nod lazily, and look up at Wade, “Can I?”

“Holy shit, baby, of course you can.” Wade looks you right in the eyes when you open your mouth to take the head of his cock past your lips, moaning when you taste him.

Logan begins to fuck you at the same time, slowly at first. You suck Wade’s dick in the rhythm of Logan’s thrusts, slow but firm, that move you forward a little bit every time. Somehow, you manage to still look up at Wade with a little fucked out look in your eyes as your boyfriend fucks your wet pussy just how you like it.

“Such a good girl, baby,” Logan mumbles, “taking us both so well.”

Wade stutters “Yeah, yeahh, knew this would feel good but,” he needs a second to recalibrate when you move your head down to lick his balls, heavy cock falling against your cheek, spilling precum. Wade’s eyes fall shut as his head drops back.

He continues after a few moments, “but this feels like heaven.”

When you move back to his dick and take him into your mouth all wetly, Wade cums instantly. The pleasure of having him pulsing against your tongue and his cum spilling down your throat makes you clench around Logan’s cock so hard that he moans. 

“Yeah, baby, cum for me,” Logan sneaks a hand around your hip to play with your clit, and with Wade’s dick still throbbing against your tongue, you cum too. You feel Logan letting go, fucking his cum into your pussy that’s squeezing him with the pulse of your orgasm.

 You all come down from your shared high giddy and giggling, Wade’s hand smoothing over your cheek, Logan’s hand soothingly running down your spine.

Wade’s dick, still hard, flexes in front of your face when you look at him, sticking out your tongue, his creamy cum covering it. “Saved you some,” you say carefully, making sure to not let any of it spill from your mouth.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, bending down to kiss you and messily make out. Some of his cum spills from between your mouths, dripping down your chest.

Logan manhandles you to turn you around onto your back, and you bounce a little when you land. Then he bends down to lick Wade’s cum off your chest in one broad lick. You’re too excited yourself to pay attention to Wade’s reaction. 

Logan moves to rest your head in his lap by his lower thighs, cock hard again and close to your face. He nods between your legs, telling Wade, “there you go. She’s wanted this for a long time”

Your head snaps straight up so that you’re looking at Logan, your gazes meeting. Your skin heats up all the way down to your chest and Logan smirks, “It’s okay, princess. This pussy’s still mine.” He reaches between your legs to deliver a gentle slap to your pussy, collecting some of his cum from inside you on his fingers, bringing them to your mouth. You suck them eagerly, and then sit up briefly to pull his face into a kiss.

“I love how we taste together,” you tell him.

Wade gets between your legs and tuts at Logan. “What an animal, doesn’t even clean up after himself,” he huffs and promptly licks your pussy. He smirks up at you and Logan, “I love how you two taste too.” 

“Need you to fuck me, Wade.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of hearing those words. Fucked my fist listening to you fucking so many times, gave myself friction burn.”

You and Logan share a smile. You know this; he talks to himself while he’s jerking off – you’re not sure if he’s aware.

Wade lines his dick up with your pussy, pushing your legs up against your chest, teasingly slapping his cock against your clit until you’re squirming. When Wade fucks you, he fucks you slowly, tauntingly yet desperately.

Logan lazily plays with his cock, slapping it against your cheek and your tongue from time to time, your mouth eagerly chasing after him, but he’s just teasing you, wants you to focus on Wade.

“Doin’ such a good job, baby,” Logan says from above you, stroking his hand over your cheek.

“Thank you, peanut,” Wade says, eyes closed, thinking Logan is talking to him. You both let him remain in that belief. 

Wade is lost in the feeling of your warm, wet and tight pussy around his dick, languidly fucking you as your pussy starts to squeeze around him more and more as you get closer to your own orgasm.

“God baby, feels better than anything I’ve ever felt. Can’t last much longer”, Wade rasps, playing with your clit. But it’s messy, and Logan can tell it won’t be enough for you. He bats Wade’s hand away and circles your clit instead.

You cum before Wade, moaning as your pussy clenches around him, triggering his orgasm. Your back arches as pleasure flows through your belly and spreads throughout your whole body, Wade’s hips desperately chasing to keep that heavenly feeling until he stills inside you while he’s bottomed out.

“Still haven’t made her cum,” Logan says, with a teasing smile.

Wade looks up, “I was the one inside of her, bub.”

You roll your eyes at their teasing each other, but you don’t care as long as it’s about your pleasure. You don’t care who made you cum.

“Bend over for me, baby,” Wade says, pulling out, “wanna see if that ass is really made of sugar.”

You laugh as you get on all fours, Wade pulling your hips in place. He bends down and licks your pussy where he just came in you, swallowing some of his cum. 

Then, he grabs your ass so hard your cheeks spread. Wade licks around your tight hole, and you wrap your hand around your boyfriend’s hard dick. Logan bends down to give you a kiss, and you moan into his mouth as the tip of Wade’s tongue pushes inside you.

You can’t deny that it feels good but you’ve never let Logan’s mouth stay near your ass long either. You squirm so that Wade moves away from your hips, and he gives you ass a teasing slap as he sits back up.

“Definitely made out of sugar,” he concludes.

Just when Wade is about to stand up, some more of his cum drips out of your pussy as you involuntarily clench around nothing, and he stuffs his face back between your legs. He sits back up with cum in his mouth, ready to kiss you, but you shake your head, looking up at Logan.

Your boyfriend pretends to be unaffected, but you can see behind it.

“Can he?” you ask Logan, and he agrees to it. You grab his jaw and open his mouth manually, biting your lip as you look at Wade. Logan’s skin is hot under your touch.

“Here you go, open up,” you beam at Logan, watching as Wade holds his jaw all tenderly, spitting his own cum into Logan’s mouth. You hold your breath as you wait for them to kiss, but the moment doesn’t come.

You visibly pout when they pull away without making out.

“I know, sugar bear, me too, but Peanut’s not ready yet,” Wade shrugs.

You press a quick kiss of encouragement to Logan’s lips, and he and Wade are on you again within the second, but you need a break after your orgasms. But that little exchange, their lips almost close enough to kiss, turned you on so much that you want to see more of them.

You tell them to sit together, facing each other, as close as they can. Their muscular thighs are tangled around each other’s hips, Logan’s leg resting over Wade’s on one side, vice versa on the other one. Their dicks are close enough to touch with just a little bit of assistance.

“Can I?” you ask, kneeling in front of the sofa.

“Can you what, princess?” Logan bites his lip.

“Rub your dicks together?”

“Yeah, but come here. Don’t wanna see the face it’s attached to.” Logan lies down and lifts you on top of him, your pussy in his face and your upper body by their pushed together crotches.

“Oh pfft, you know you love it,” Wade comments.

“He does,” you kiss him for reassurance. Logan is obviously into Wade, he just hasn’t admitted that to himself yet.

Logan begins to lick at your pussy, tongue playing with your clit. “Don’t. Can’t focus,” you warn with a teasing smile.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

You wrap one hand each around their cocks, just jerking them off for a few moments.

“Don’t make it so suspenseful, sugar bear, or I’ll cum from the anticipation alone.”

“Would that be a bad thing?” you shrug with one shoulder, smiling down at their throbbing dicks in your hands.

As much as you’d love to see Wade cumming all over himself before you’ve even started, you have other plans. You let some of your spit drip down over their tips, jacking them off a bit faster, hearing their breaths stutter.

“Peanut, you’re really missing out not being able to see her. She’s so gorgeous.”

“I know she is, Wade.”

You smile at their compliments, lowering your head to trail your tongue between their cocks, paying more attention to your boyfriend first, then to Wade. They taste of your pussy and their precum, wetting your tongue with their taste.

Playing with them for a bit, you rub their dicks together, jerking them off at the same time.

“You need some assistance?” Wade asks, sitting up more and moving his hips. All you have to do is hold your boyfriend’s dick in place as Wade grinds against him, rubbing his cock against Logan’s for a few moments.

“God that feels good, wanna cum,” Wade groans.

“Off,” you tell him, smiling when his hips still in defeat. You tease them both a little longer, rubbing their tips together until their precum mixes and they’re both close, but you don’t let them cum. 

You get off them, telling them to stand up while you sit on the sofa facing them, leaning back a little.

“Which one of you wants to cum on me first?” you ask, voice sweet and angelic. 

They both start jerking off immediately, and you almost drool at having these two tall, muscular men stroking their dicks right in front of you – and for you – fighting over who gets to drain their balls for you first.

It’s Wade who cums first, a string of obscenities leaving his mouth as he jerks his dick to orgasm, painting your stomach white with his cum. Logan isn’t far behind, telling you what a pretty girl you are as he cums over your belly and tits. Their cum mixes, and it becomes impossible to tell whose cum landed where.

You sit up to lick your boyfriend’s dick clean, then Wade’s, then you lie back, puffing out your chest.

“Can one of you get wipes to clean me?” you ask innocently, knowing exactly that’s not what they’re going to do. They get to their knees simultaneously, starting to lick their cum off you, licking you clean.

They sit down next to you afterwards, you sandwiched between them. They lift one leg of yours each over their lap, touching you all over, putting their hands between your legs.

“Such a good girl for us, hm?” Wade says.

Your boyfriend agrees. “Did such a good job, baby.”

“You wanna cum again? Wanna cum for Logan and me?”

You nod lazily, all blissed out already, “yes please.” Your eyes fall shut at how good it feels, and at some point you can barely tell who is kissing you, whose hand it is playing with your nipples, or whose fingers are inside your wet pussy.

You cum for them, clenching hard around the fingers inside your pussy as another hand grabs at your knee to keep your legs apart. When you open your eyes again after a few moments, both men are looking at you lovingly, and it’s Logan who slowly pulls his fingers out of your pussy, delivering a few gentle, smoothing circles over your clit.

You grab his wrist to bring his fingers up to your face, looking him in the eyes, at how they light up when you suck his fingers into your mouth to taste yourself, no matter how often he’s seen you do it.

“You’re such a lucky bastard, honey badger,” Wade smiles, leaning his head against the back of the sofa.

You innocently smile at Wade, “I’d say I’m quite lucky too.”

-

You end up cuddling in your and Logan’s shared bed, all fucked out of your minds, freshly showered but exhausted to bits. 

“All in all, a successful Christmas Eve,” Wade says, making you giggle.

You force yourself from your warm and cozy position between them when you remember Wade’s list, grabbing it off your bedside table, along with a pen.

Wade’s cheeks redden in recognition at the piece of paper, “You found that? That was just me writing fanfiction before bed one night.”

“We wanted to give you a nice gift,” Logan grumbles.

“Yeah,” you agree, “We didn’t want you to feel like you were third-wheeling all throughout the holidays.”

Wade smiles one of his sweet smiles, “Thank you, guys. You’ve made this little guy,” he points at his face, “and especially this big guy,” he points at his crotch, “very happy.”

“Let’s see if you got all your wishes.”

Dear Santa,

I’ve been an exceptionally good boy this year, my kill count is at a measly 34. I think I deserve a few things. Here are my wishes for Christmas this year:

- Eat out Logan’s girlfriend

“You know she has a name, right?” Logan huffs.

“Of course, but the writer didn’t want to have to use the dreaded y slash n.”

“What?” you cringe.

“Nothing, keep reading.” 

- Eat my or Logan’s cum out of her pussy

- Sword-fighting with Logan while his girlfriend supervises

- Cum eating contest off her body with Logan 

- Cuddle with them

“What genius came up with this?” Wade grins.

“We had to do some interpreting, but we got everything, right?”

Surprisingly, it’s Logan who points at the last wish, “We haven’t done that one yet.”

“Yippie!” Wade claps, “cuddle wuddle time.”

“Nevermind,” Logan says, ready to get up and sleep on the sofa, but you pull him back by the wrist, giggling.

You switch off the lights, putting Wade’s wishlist away – all wishes checked off.

Logan moves closer to you, pressing his chest against your back to cuddle, giving you a loving kiss before lying down.

“I love you, princess.”

“I love you too.”

You let Wade snuggle up to you as the little spoon, draping your arm over his chest, and he holds onto your wrist with a warm hand.

“You made me a very happy Christmas boy, you know that?”

You laugh, “We love you, Wade.”

“I love you too,” he says, and lies his head down on the pillow. You kiss the side of his head before you pull the blanket over yourself.

“Merry Christmas, Wade.”

Just as you’re about to fall asleep a while later, you hear Wade’s voice:

“You know that means Santa’s real, right?”

P.S. Thank you so much for reading <3 Let me know what you liked and reblog to get on Wade’s and Logan’s nice list 🤭😇 and Merry Christmas!!! <3

[catdia]

Viktor with a Chubby S/o

(Modern AU / College AU)

You guys meet thanks to Professor Heimerdinger. Both brilliant students that were later made into TAs

He is a biomedical engineer major. You share many classes together but got official acquainted as Heimer’s personal assistants

Viktor is incredibly handsome and you fell for him right away. You love his dry humor and the way his mind works. He had been Heimerdinger’s TA a few months before you, so you sat in the classes he taught as a way to get yourself familiar with an assistants work

He teaches so good, almost at the same level as any other professor. He is witty and doesn’t hold back when he criticizes the students poor test scores

“If you actually paid attention for once you would have seen that all these problems were on the homework you were assigned over the week! Oh, but half of you didn’t do it in the first place. So I’m not surprised you failed miserably—”

Professor Heimerdinger definitely tries to set you two up from the start. He sees the chemistry every time you both are around the office working in lesson plans and discussions equations. Heimer sees how Viktor softens his gaze will looking at you. And how you get lost in Viktor’s impressive mind

“There is nothing like young love, my boy! One day you are sitting together basking in the wonders of progress, then in the blink of an eye you are hearing wedding bells—”

“I think what you’re experiencing Professor is something called schizophrenia.”

Viktor was the one that asked you out first! Then it was smooth sailing from there. Your simple coffee runs to finish up grading papers turned into you holding hands and sharing overpriced pastries

Jayce also became a very big part of your relationship, he was Viktor’s roommate in freshman year and have been inseparable since. Also a biomedical engineer student

Viktor survives most days on sweets and black coffee. So when you came around you finally made this man have a proper meal after class

“I actually have been starting to feel much better these past few weeks. I’m head doesn’t get foggy anymore.”

“That’s because I’m feeding the fuck out of you. So which one do you want? Chicken and rice or beef?”

Viktor is thin and lanky so he is the one that steals clothes in the relationship. Especially likes taking your cardigans and sweaters

Started buying bigger clothes just so you wouldn’t be felt out. Makes sure to spray his cologne on it so you can smell him all day

He has a very nice sense of style, a mix between dark academia and grunge. Likes anything to do with warm colors and cozy fabrics.

He uses a leather crossbody bag instead of a regular book bag. He thinks it makes him look cooler

Has an old wooden cane he got at an estate sale. It’s a beautiful deep shade of brown that almost looks reddish. Its handle is craved with intricate flowers and vines. Viktor has a medical grade one but hates how boring it looks

“It has character! If I have to use a cane to walk at least I can look the part while doing it.”

“And by “the part” you mean looking like a grandpa?”

You and Jayce like to play around with the cane every chance you get. From limbo to sword fighting. Once Viktor has taken a seat and looks comfortable it’s game over. You’re taking the cane until further notice. You and Jayce get into petty fights over who gets to take the cane all the time

“Jayce it’s not fair! You got to take it last time and it’s my turn!” You stood on your tippy toes as Jayce lifted the cane above his head

“Nuh huh, you lost so I get first dibs on it!”

“I’m going to shove it up your ass, Talis! Give it to me—” Jayce ran away and you followed him as he weaved across the various desks and chairs

Loves watching his two idiots fight over his walking stick knowing that it ends up with him scolding you two for playing rough

Lets you decorate it how much you want. He even gave you permission to carve your name on the bottom of the handle. You like to change it up, having little bats on Halloween and wrapping it up in Christmas lights in winter

Spends all his free time in the library. You and Jayce join him often, doing homework and studying. When it’s finals you stay until midnight in a private study room. Watching Jayce and Viktor bicker over math equations as you doze off

Speaks Russian, French and Czech! You get turned on when he switches languages when pissed

Thanks to his disability he gets a really big dorm room with a private bathroom and kitchen, almost like a full blown apartment

“I can’t believe they gave you such a nice place, Viktor! Not even my mini fridge works.”

“You should have came in a wheelchair with an oxygen tank like I did on orientation week.”

“Viktor, I’m sure what you did was illegal—”

The first time you were intimate with Viktor you were nervous! Viktor because he bagged a pretty girl and didn’t know how to handle it. And you because of the lack of intimacy you had. He is such an attentive lover! And made your first time so sweet

Even if he is all fucked up after sex he will do aftercare. Will get you water and a snack butt naked. Gives you lots of affection and kind words too

You both do laundry together on the week ends. Makes for good bonding time. After washing and drying your stuff you always go to his dorm room and put on music as you fold your clothes together

“This thing doesn’t even cover one of my ass cheeks.” You put his boxers next to your butt then threw it in Viktor’s hamper.

“Good thing that it only needs to cover the good stuff in the front.” He placed another sweater in his drawer

“You’re gross, Vik!” Viktor chuckled and looked at the pile of clothes you were folding. The slight hint of pink from the mountain of dark clothes caught his attention. He reached out and pulled a pair of lacy panties

“And who are these for?” Viktor had never seen these before and had the biggest grin on his face. Imagining you in them

“For your mom.” You shot back at him

“Mmm, she has my taste. She’ll like them.” He folded the pair in his hand and placed it inside is sweater stack

“Did you really just put my panties in your cupboard in front of my face?” You looked at him in shock. And you were flatter in a weird way.

“Yes, I made it obvious for a reason!”

He takes a plethora of pills through out the day, you’ve memorized the names of them and their effects. And even have some spare ones on you in case he forgets to take them

Definitely has tampons and pads in his book bag in case of emergencies!

There are some days where he has very bad flare ups. You stay with him in bed all day and miss class together. He loves cuddling with you, holding you from behind and having his bad leg thrown over your hip. Or him laying on your chest as you play with his hair

Likes grabbing fist fulls of your tummy when your together. It makes him feel so warm and cozy

I don’t see Viktor being an avid cannabis user, but he still has his license and buys from “independent sellers” because it’s cheaper. He uses it once in a blue moon, when the pain is unbearable. Doesn’t like smoking it in front of anyone. Not even you or Jayce

Is the type of guy that just stops and stares when you walk by him. It doesn’t matter if you’re in public or alone together he WILL stop whatever his doing and look at you

You buy him matching stuff all the time, like pencils and keychains! You got a pair of matching Dr Martens with him and funky socks for every occasion

Jayce got jealous and it ended up with you three going out to a Sanrio store and buying matching keychains for your book bags. Jayce for me screams Pompompurin and Viktor is definitely a Keroppi and My Melody stan!

Viktor has been independent with his disability since he was born. It makes him feel weird when you want to help him or even do acts of service that make his day a little less painful

He has been in relationships where his partners or even “friends” make him feel less then. They see his disability before his amazing personality and smarts

It takes time for him to get used to another person loving him and not complain about his leg being a burden. He doesn’t admit how much he likes having you help him out with simple stuff, he doesn’t care about his pride when his with you. It shows him that you accept all parts of him like he does yours

You like massaging his bad knee with his medical cream. After his showers you are already set up waiting for him on the bed

“You don’t have to do this for me, you know?”

“But I want to! And I like the smell of the cream anyways. It makes my hands soft.” You slowly worked your hands into the skin of his leg. Going over his knee surgery scar with your fingers

Viktor is the type of guy that doesn’t seem to have body insecurities but more capabilities ones. Like him doubting he could make you happy. Or if he can make you feel sexually satisfied and attached to him

Which he absolutely does because that man is a freak and knows how to work with what his mama gave him!

His beauty marks and moles are your favorite part of him. Especially the ones on his face. Before you even kiss his lips properly you have to kiss is moles first! He has many more all over his body. You know where every single one is on his skin. The one on his left side pelvis, the one behind is right ear, and the pair that cross over is bad ankle

Viktor’s favorite part of your body is your ass, then your personality (hahaha). He loves all of your equally but something about watching your ass jiggle as you walk away and how it feels so nice on his pelvis when he holds you from behind just makes him gushy

“Does this dress make me look lumpy?” You looked in the mirror as you were trying on the new dresses you ordered for the Innovators Competition coming up

“What are you talking about?” Viktor turned around in his chair, pushing his eye glasses into his hair. He was busy tweaking the final cables of his invention

“Like doesn’t my ass and pudge look out of place in this dress?” You pinched your skin as you looked at your reflection. Viktor knew you well, you were setting fire to yourself. He slowly got up and walked to your form, careful to not hurt his leg

“You look gorgeous, love. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.” He wrapped his arms around your middle, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looked at your eyes in the mirror. “The only thing out of place is that I’m not in between your legs right now.”

“Jesus, Viktor!”

Like I mentioned Viktor is a total freak! He knows how to seduce you when he wants to get down and dirty. The one that gets you the most is when he wears button down shirts and rolls in the sleeves to his forearms. Then unbuttons it until you can see the navel of his chest

“You’re getting distracted.” Viktor said

“Only because you’re making me flustered, you temptress!”

You’ve definitely have gotten freaky in Professor Heimerdinger’s lab. You sitting on the cold wooden desk top as Viktor was in between your legs. Working on pulling of your top, then undoing your bra

“V-Viktor— what if he catches us? We’ll be expelled!” He placed open mouth kisses on your exposed neck. Palms flush against the flesh of your breasts. Earning moans from your warm throat. Slowly pulling your skirt down your legs and discarding it

“He is out of office until Wednesday.” He took off your panties and placed them in his back pocket. Then slowly started taking off his belt and unzipping his pants. He pushed on your chest to make you lay flat on the desk. “Know be quite and let me make you feel good.”

He isn’t a people person, at all. So he likes to spent time alone with you the most. Watching movies, baking and building Legos together

He’s a puzzle nerd and always has one on his table that he builds here and there

You’ve tried to convince him to get a service dog, but I can totally see this man being disgusted by dogs. Doesn’t even tolerate the little ones.

“They’re so obnoxious and needy. So full of bothersome energy—”

“Whenever you talk about dogs all I hear coming from your mouth is ‘Jayce, Jayce, Jayce’!”

“Don’t you dare compare my friend to a mutt!

He is more of a cat person, or a reptile one. I believe if Viktor wasn’t an engineering major he would have chosen veterinary science

Viktor’s love languages are quality time, acts of service, and physical touch. Has to have his hands on you at all times

“Sit on my lap.”

“Viktor, if I do I’ll put you into cardiac arrest. Or hurt your leg. I don’t know which one’s worse.” You crossed your arms, watching as he pouted at you from the sofa

“I can take it! Sit on my lap, woman!” Viktor patted his lap aggressively and made grabby hands at you

“Okay, whatever you say…” You sat down on his legs, making sure that your back was supported by the armrest of the couch. You rested your head on his shoulder

“Mmmm, this is heaven—” He massaged the meat of your thighs. Nuzzling his head in your hair

“If you see a light don’t go towards it! You still own me a movie night.”

One of your favorite weekend activities is going to the park and feeding the ducks! Also going to thrift stores and farmers markets

Viktor doesn’t let you pay for anything! He says that it’s a man’s job to pay for everything and he likes spending his TA check on you

He grew up in a place where violence was in every corner, so he is very observant and protective when you are out together. Viktor has a lot of street smarts and knows when people are watching. He also has a pocket knife on him and even owns a firearm. Don’t ask him if he has a license for it because he doesn’t

Many times you’ve had witness Jayce carry Viktor up or down flights of stairs when the elevator is busted or when there’s a building evacuation. You call it his “princess time”. You walk beside them with Viktor’s cane and book bag in hand

“This is utterly embarrassing—” Viktor had his head hanging off the side of Jayce’s arm like a corpse

“I think you look dashing, Viktor!” You said playfully, kissing his lolling head

“That makes it even worse.” He grumbled on Jayce’s shoulder

“At least you’re not tumbling down the stairs, V.” Jayce chuckled

Viktor definitely plans on marrying you after college, he knew he wanted you in his life since the first month you started dating

He was the first to say “I love you”, and cried while saying it

The type of person that says they hate kids and doesn’t like them at all. But children just flock to them for some reason. Viktor is one of those people! Every time he is out and there are kids around you are in for a treat. Babies just stare at him and give him the cutest gummy smiles. Reaching their chubby hands towards him. Little kids always come up and ask him questions about his cane. He is so dry but so kind to the little ones that it literally makes your heart melt

“Are you a pirate, mister?!”

“No sadly. I’m a college student. Boring I know.”

You love doing self care nights with him. Putting your new face masks and hair care products to the test on Viktor

Viktor growing his hair out was the biggest blessing you could ever ask for! He lets you style his hair all the time in braids, ponytails and even lets you curl it. Having a half up half down hairdo looks killer on him

You definitely joke about him being a “chubby chaser”. He didn’t know what it meant until you told him and he just smiled and said:

“Well, what are bones good for if they don’t have meat on them.”

He’s your sassy skeleton man and you love it

[punkshort]

Roll Call 2

a Roommates one-shot

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel convinces you to watch one of the videos he's starred in and you like it more than you expected.

Warnings: reader and Joel watching porn, smut (18+ MDNI - I don't know what came over me but it's surprisingly soft), language, dirty talk, infidelity, unprotected piv sex, creampie, alcohol consumption

WC: 2.9K

A/N: this was inspired by these asks and is not considered canon, it's just for fun

"It really ain't as bad as you think," Joel teased, watching with glassy eyes as you tossed back a shot with a wince. You swiped the back of your hand across your mouth and shook your head.

"It's porn, Joel. It's pretty black and white."

"See, that's where you're wrong. You must be watchin' some low budget shit if that's your impression," he said over his shoulder as he lead you back to your table through the crowd of people hovering around the bar.

"What're you saying? Your porn is better somehow?"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm sayin'," he said with a grin before sliding into the booth. You plopped down across from him and greedily took a sip from your water. "My stuff's produced by people who actually give a shit about quality and storylines."

"Uh huh," you said with a giggle. The two of you were waiting for Tommy to get off work but the bar was busier than expected that particular evening and you had been stuck for almost two hours with nothing to do but drink and kill time.

"You don't believe me? Lemme show you," he said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. Your eyes widened and you began to sober up.

"N-no, Joel, I believe you."

"C'mon, it's no big deal. We've slept together, for fuckssake, it ain't nothin' you haven't already seen," he said, eyes pinned to his phone as he scrolled on some website that had a suspicious amount of ads and pop ups. His eyes lit up when he found what he was looking for and fished his AirPods out of his other pocket, handing you one and shoving the other in his ear. You held it in your fingers, your mind reeling. You've never seen Joel's porn before, but Maria had, and she told you it was hot at the time but you'd never felt the urge to look it up for yourself.

Joel finally picked up on your hesitation and paused. "If you really don't wanna, it's fine."

You chewed your lower lip as you thought about it. You couldn't deny you were curious and you didn't have to watch the entire thing if it made you uncomfortable, so you took a deep breath and popped the earbud in. "Play it."

He grinned and glanced around. "Come over on this side, don't want anyone walkin' by to see."

You rolled your eyes, finding it laughable that he would even give a shit, but did as he asked and settled in next to him.

"Roll Call 2? Will I be lost if I didn't see Roll Call 1?"

Joel snorted and shook his head. "Shut the hell up."

He pressed play and you watched as the black screen faded to a classroom where Joel sat hunched over behind a desk looking busy as he scribbled on some papers. He wore thick rimmed glasses and a white button down shirt with a navy blue tie. You laughed and poked him in the shoulder.

"Maybe you're right. This is the most professional I've ever seen you dress."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered.

A door squeaked open and he looked up to find a young looking brunette enter the room with a stack of books pressed against her chest.

"Excuse me, Mr. Ryder, do you have a minute?"

"Ryder?!" you cackled, "are you fucking serious?"

Joel grinned but kept his eyes on the phone. "Yeah, alright, that was less than subtle, but the rest is good, keep watchin'."

"Tiffany? What can I help you with?"

You hid your grin behind your fist and kept watching.

"Can I talk to you about this test? I-I really can't fail this class or else I won't graduate."

"Tiffany" set her books down on the corner of his desk and pulled out a paper, putting it down in front of Joel and leaning over. Her own button down shirt only had three buttons fastened, at best, so when she bent forward, her tits practically spilled out of her shirt.

"Mhm, I noticed your grades have been slippin'. Maybe you could do some extra credit to help boost your grade?"

"Really? You'd let me do that?"

Joel's hand gently brushed up against the back of her thigh, his gaze dropping to take in her plaid mini skirt.

"'Course I would, s'long as you do somethin' for me."

"Joel, this is so corny," you said as you were about to pull out the earbud. He stopped you and scooted closer.

"It ain't 'bout bein' corny or not, it's 'bout the production and the set and how the actors are treated. When you have good people 'round you, it comes through on the screen and the performance is better."

You sighed and continued to watch as his hand snuck up the back of her skirt. Tiffany gasped and pressed her hips into the desk then looked down at Joel, who was gazing up at her like she was the only woman in the world.

"I don't know, Mr. Ryder..."

"Why not, darlin'?"

"W-what if someone finds out?"

"No one'll know," he assured her before taking her hand and placing it over his lap. She moaned softly and bit her lip before sinking to her knees and undoing his belt. He groaned and leaned back in his chair, watching her with a pleased smirk.

"Yeah, that's it," he whispered when she took him in her mouth. Suddenly you remembered you were in the middle of a bar watching porn with your ex and you yanked the earbud out.

"Okay, I think I get the idea."

Joel chuckled. "Fine, I don't wanna make you uncomfortable," he said, setting his phone down so he could take a sip from his glass, but the video still played. You couldn't hear the audio anymore but you saw his head tip back and his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure. You wondered what kind of noises he was making, knowing he was the type to be more vocal during sex, an attribute you always appreciated. You tried to look away, focusing your attention on the people around you, but your eyes kept finding his phone. On the screen, Joel pulled Tiffany up by the shoulders and pushed her up against his desk. He slotted himself between her legs and pushed up her skirt before plunging his tongue into her mouth and rubbing slow circles over her clit.

"See somethin' you like?" Joel teased when he caught you looking. You pursed your lips before rolling your eyes and shoving the earbud back in just in time to hear him groan deeply into her mouth when he began to sink his cock inside her. You had to admit, it was nice when the video didn't cut to a godawful closeup of her pussy but instead took advantage of her wide spread legs and chose to capture both their reactions. You swallowed, throat suddenly dry, as you continued to watch the video. Much like Joel in real life, he was attentive and caring, subtly making sure Tiffany was comfortable. He didn't jackhammer her, he didn't remain awkwardly silent, but instead he rolled his hips leisurely while lavishing her with praise until he tugged on her shirt and wrapped his hand around one of her breasts, biting at her nipple. She moaned and grabbed his hair, whispering how big he was and how good it felt and fuck me harder, Mr. Ryder, I can take it.

He pulled out and flipped her around, pushing her hips into the desk before sliding back inside, her pussy and thighs glistening from her arousal.

"Goddamn, you're so tight. Oh, good girl, look at you. Takin' my cock like a champ. Fuck, y'feel so good."

He was slamming his hips into her faster now, so much so that the desk was beginning to move. Tiffany's fingers clutched around the edge of the wood, knuckles white, mouth agape and eyes rolled to the back of her head.

"How much of this is fake?" you asked breathlessly, unable to look away. He shrugged, no longer watching the phone, but instead his eyes were glued to your face. Your lips were parted and your breath was coming a little faster now.

"What'dya mean?"

"Like, is she faking it?" you asked.

"No," he chuckled, casually draping his arm behind you. On the screen, Joel gently pressed a palm against her spine so she laid flat on the desk, then he reached down to pick up one of her legs to open her hips even wider. The noises she was making were so loud at that point, you didn't need to keep the earbud in anymore, so once again you took it out. He could tell how aroused you were, even though you initially tried to hide it. You squirmed in your seat and you rubbed the back of your neck before taking a deep breath. Your eyes met his and he saw you swallow thickly, your gaze flickering from his eyes to his lips over and over again.

"Joel?"

Your voice was low, suggestive, as you leaned into him a little more. The heat between you was growing thick. It was probably made worse by the alcohol coursing through your veins but he didn't care, and neither did you. He nodded and tore his eyes away.

"C'mon," he said.

He grabbed your arm and shoved his phone back in his pocket before leading you through the crowd, his cock straining against his zipper, knowing full well how that night was going to end.

"Where are we going?" you asked when he bypassed the bathrooms in favor of a third closed door.

"Basement. Where they keep the booze."

He swung open the door and flicked on the light before pulling you in after him and ushered you quickly down the stairs. He swiveled his head back and forth until he spotted a corner of the basement that had a small amount of privacy hidden behind boxes of liquor, then turned around and cupped your jaw before crashing his mouth against yours with a deep groan.

"We gotta be fast," you murmured before breaking away and tugging your jeans down.

"Yeah," was all he said, his heart thumping wildly in his chest when you pulled your jeans all the way off and started on your underwear. "Jesus Christ," he added when he realized you weren't messing around. Fast meant fast.

You tested the weight of what looked like a repurposed workbench before hopping up and grabbing the collar of his shirt, yanking him forward just as he undid his belt. You helped him unzip his jeans and slid your hand past his waistband, wrapping your fingers around his cock as you nipped greedily at his throat.

"Fuck, baby, you liked that, huh?" he murmured, grabbing onto your hips, letting you pull his cock out and line him up against your opening without his assistance. He hissed when the tip of his cock prodded at your folds, feeling just how wet you were from watching that video.

You didn't answer. You just spread your legs wider and scooted closer to the edge of the table. Your heels dug into the backs of his thighs, urging him forward. A whimper fell from your lips when he slowly eased inside you, then tipped your head back with a gasp when he pushed all the way in.

"God, that feels good," you moaned, your arms draping lazily around his neck, forehead resting against his chest.

Slowly, he pulled his cock out, leaving just the swollen tip before pausing and pushing back in. You both watched in a daze as he slid in and out, emerging slicker than before with each thrust. Calloused hands ran up and down your thighs. Slowly, leisurely, adoringly.

"Faster," you mumbled, eyes fluttering closed, forehead still pressed against his broad chest.

"I don't like goin' fast with you," he whispered, then wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you even closer as he continued slowly feeding you his cock.

You moaned and dug your nails into his neck when he hit a spot just right, making your thighs shake and your breath stutter.

"L-like the video," you managed to stammer out. You pulled your head away from his chest and hazily looked up at him. "Don't you wanna make this table move like the desk?" you asked him with a teasing smile, but he didn't give you one back. He shook his head and rubbed the pad of his thumb over your lower lip.

"No," he said softly, still fucking you agonizingly slow. His eyes were warm and sweet as he stared down at you, scanning your face. His fingers slid through your hair, cupping the back of your head as he continued to look at you, watching the little flickers of pleasure cross your features every time he hit that one spot he knew made you come undone. "Don't wanna fuck you like them. Wanna take my time 'n really feel you." He rolled his hips, pushing inside you extra deep and you melted against him, giving up and letting him take you the way he needed.

The hand that was lost in your hair tilted your head so he could kiss you. His tongue, slow and lazy, slipped into your mouth, licking and savoring the taste of tequila and the cigarette you bummed from him an hour earlier.

Eventually, you lost yourself in the moment, raking your fingers through his hair and kissing him back just as deeply. You knew it was too intimate, you knew it was dangerous to be like this with him, but it was too late. Who were you kidding? It's been too late for a while now.

You finally had to break the kiss, your lungs burning for air the same way your thighs were burning around his waist. Tipping your head to the side, you slumped against his shoulder, gasping and panting while he continued to torturously fuck you slow in the dirty basement of your favorite bar.

The setting hardly matched the mood, but it didn't seem to matter.

"You gotta know, I don't fuck anyone else like this."

You squeezed your eyes shut.

His fingers dug into your ribs, the others into your scalp, pressing you against him as if you were one.

"Yeah?" Your voice was breathy and high pitched.

"Only you." He pressed his mouth against your hair, his cock splitting you open in the softest way possible. "Just you."

"Joel," you whined, one hand dropping to grab the thin material of his tshirt, fingers getting twisted as you tugged and pulled at him. You said his name again, a whisper that time. Being so close, you could feel his heart beating loud and fast in his chest. It felt like it matched your own.

"Yeah, say my name," he muttered, hips moving a little faster now. "You gonna come f'me, baby?"

You couldn't respond. You were too close and everything was too intense. Instead, you nodded and squeezed your eyes shut tighter, fighting back the two tears that sprung up out of nowhere.

When you came, you pulled harshly on his hair and gasped, warmth flooding your limbs as your orgasm washed over you. He was murmuring something but you couldn't hear him over the ringing in your ears and then finally, your muscles relaxed and you sighed.

"Fuck, Joel."

"I know," he grunted through clenched teeth. "Shit, you're gonna make me come. Feels too good, I can't... oh, god."

He made a move to pull out but your legs tensed around him once more, keeping him still. His hips slowed.

"What're you-"

"I want you to come inside me," you mumbled drowsily from his chest. You felt more than heard the low growl he gave you in response.

"Baby-"

Tugging him by the back of the neck, you pulled him down into a searing kiss, shutting him up. He cupped your jaw with one hand while the other remained wrapped around your waist, still holding you against him. It only took him a few more seconds before he spilled inside you, his moans getting lost against your lips.

Long after you had both recovered, your mouths were still latched together, tongues slowly dancing, neither of you wanting the moment to end, but it was you who finally pulled away.

"We should go before we get caught."

He hummed and pressed his forehead against yours.

"So what if we get caught?"

You practically stopped breathing at the double meaning behind his words, your brain unable to formulate a response. He must have sensed it because he continued.

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"Jail?" you finally offered, leaning back and giving him a smirk, purposely ignoring the real meaning behind his question. What would happen if someone found out about your affair?

He gave you a small smile and sighed. "You make a good point." He pulled out with a hiss, his gaze darkening for a moment when he saw your pussy leaking with him. "Christ," he whispered before backing away and fixing his clothes while you did the same.

"You ready?" he asked once you got your clothes back on and looked relatively presentable.

"Yeah," you replied, but took a step and stumbled. Joel quickly reached out to steady you, his thumbs rubbing affectionately over your arms as he did.

"Don't worry, I got you."

You looked up at him and smiled. "I know."

[nnight-dances]

REPETITION / RARE LOVE

pairings: kim mingyu x fem!reader (ft. yoon jeonghan)

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive & sexual content

tropes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (except mingyu's the only idiot), pining, flirting

warnings: explicit language, banter, alcohol consumption, borderline jeonghan slander but it's okay because i would die for the man, has been proofread by me once but only barely. kazuha (le sserafim) is your roommate, huh yunjin is present.

WHAT TO EXPECT

it's simple enough: you and mingyu are perfect for each other. you've told him as much but after years of him avoiding the topic, you leave him alone. but when your long-time infatuation with jeonghan gets rejected, you have nothing to distract you from your desire to be with mingyu. all it takes is you making out with the wrong person and a can of beer for mingyu to come to his senses. (about 11k)

OR: maybe you don't hate repetition as much as you claim to.

SEQUEL OUT NOW!

“why are men on tinder actually vile?” you question out loud, not quite expecting an answer as your eyes continue to read the offensive opener you’d received from a recent match. mingyu, who’s crouched on the desk across from you, frowns.

“y/n, we’re meant to be studying,” he points out, “but also i thought you were over tinder?”

you look at him blankly, “i am! i just gotta finish what i started you know…”

mingyu looks deeply disappointed in you and you slide your phone across to him, “look at this message i just got! it’s disgusting! i don’t need to know if someone’s wet at the thought of—”

“god, y/n, do you have to scream?” he asks as he takes hold of your phone, busying his fingers probably with blocking the guy. you momentarily look back at your screen where the black document meant to be the outline for your final art history paper taunts you.

you sigh, looking down at your phone when mingyu returns it. “i paused your account and deleted the app.” you sigh yet again, “man! if you were gonna uninstall it without my permission you should’ve just deleted my account.”

“you’d just make another one anyway,” he shrugs, “plus, this way when you go back you’ll remember why you left in the first place.”

you grumble something under your breath but resume your attempts at writing. mingyu smiles a little as he goes back to his own work. a beat passes before, he puts his pen down again and when he sees you’re staring at your screen distantly, he asks, “did you talk to jeonghan yet?”

you gasp at the mention of your years-old crush, glancing around you as if you weren’t in a private study room (because apparently the only way either of you could get anything done was while talking to each other). “what?” mingyu continues, “one of us had to address the elephant in the room.”

“wow, you’re just the worst friend ever, aren’t you? it’s like you can’t read rooms at all. i clearly did not want to talk about jeonghan.”

“well, now you are. so you might as well be honest with me. did you think about confessing to him?”

you deflate, stomach suddenly uneasy, “no. i don’t think i will. i don’t need him to know.”

“you kinda do. y/n, look at me,” mingyu knocks on the wood to demand your attention, “it’s the only way you’ll ever have an answer.”

“i don't want an answer.”

“…”

"because i'm going to move on from him!"

"..."

“okay, well, i’m starting to! just watch me, okay? i have the agency to not be completely consumed by my very shallow attraction to a very attractive and impressive man.”

“right. you just used attractive twice in a sentence— and no, i don’t care if it wasn’t the same form of the word, you absolutely hate redundant things. and yet, you refuse to recognize the way out of this pattern of yours.”

“you are so tiring, mingyu, you know that? exhausting, even. i don’t want to do this anymore.” you shake your head at him, suddenly invigorated to finish this damn preliminary proposal of yours.

—

yunjin cackles as she plops down across from you in the dining hall, finding you scrolling ever so dedicatedly on pinterest. “what’s this?”

you look up at her with a pout, “i need a dress for hoshi’s little party. it’s in two weeks and i have zero options.”

“fuck, i knew i was forgetting something,” she grimaces in her typical huh yunjin way and shifts closer, “i need to find something for that too. can’t just wear a corset and call it day since he’s labelling it a formal and whatnot.”

“he really is the worst,” you agree, pausing to muse over a pretty white dress with red roses all over it. “hmm, what about this one?”

yunjin tilts her head and nods as she looks between you and the dress, probably imagining you in it. then, you sigh, “it’s just i don’t think red is my color like that.”

you’re about to elaborate when you hear a gasp from behind you, “that is simply not true!” you don’t have time to react when a figure slides in next to you. goddamnit, it’s jeonghan, you realize, trying hard to keep it together when his shoulder comes to sit next to yours. “you absolutely fucking rock the color red.”

“i do?” is all you can muster as yunjin chokes out a badly covered laugh. you glare at her, “what’s funny, jen?”

“hah, nothing, i agree with jeonghan, you’d look lovely in red.”

you frown, unconvinced as you scroll some more, feeling dizzy from jeonghan’s presence.

“preparing for hoshi’s party i presume?” jeonghan asks and you nod. “i’m so stressed, i have nothing and it’s approaching so fast.”

“you have time though,” he reassures but you’re quick to protest, “i’m not going to have any time next week because we’re organizing that night flea market. i’ll be running around campus so i need to take a trip this week.” the beauty of going to a college with an isolated campus: peace and you gotta plan every time you leave campus because there’s a singular bus that takes you to the city. it’d be a whole day trip for you if not for mingyu, who thankfully has a car that he can drive.

“ahh, tell me when you’re going into the city, y/n,” yunjin pats you, “i gotta go too.”

you nod and then remember, “right of course, i just remembered kazuha saying she wanted to come too.”

“nice,” yunjin approves, “we need all the opinions we can get. did you get mingyu to agree to drive you yet?”

“i texted him earlier but he hasn’t replied, which is slightly concerning because he may not know how to spell but he does write back very fast.”

jeonghan chuckles, “mind if i join you guys too?”

you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, “you wanna come shopping with us?”

he nods, that sweet smile of his plastered across his face, “yeah, i could use a new formal outfit. i’m tired of wearing the same black suit to everything.” he nudges your side, “plus, you guys could help me out. i can never decide on anything all alone.”

—

“maybe i should just not go,” you groan with your head in your hands. mingyu rolls his eyes, slapping your back, “why would not go? if your problem’s with jeonghan, he should be the one to stay back. not you.”

you sit back up, staring at the eggs in your plate. beside you, mingyu chugs his glass of orange juice, and you lean against him. “god, i hate him so much. do you wanna go see if the playground’s free?”

“right now?” mingyu looks at the time. it’s 11 am on saturday, still an hour from the time everyone agreed to meet in front of mingyu’s car, which is conveniently parked right across from the playground. as if following your line of thought, he grins, “alright. but you finish your food first.”

you sigh, “okay, mom, i will.”

five minutes later find you racing mingyu for the best swing in the playground— months of visiting the place had taught you the first swing was the only one that didn’t creak too loud and experienced the least amount of bumps during the ride. mingyu’s fast but you’re stubborn so you reach out for his arm midway, sticking your nails into the skin, knowing how dramatic he is about these things.

he gasps, “DO NOT CLAW ME.” strong as he might be, he slows down to rip your grip off. you seize the opportunity, getting a headstart and laugh when you reach the swing before him, sitting down firmly before mingyu can pull you away.

“that’s cheating, y/n, you know it!”

“hey, you’re the one that has an advantage. you go to the gym like eight times a week. i go like thrice a month.”

“sounds like someone’s lazy and whiny to me.”

you smile, “someone lazy wouldn’t win that race. and you’re the one that’s whining,” you point to his stance, his arms at his hips like an affronted toddler. he loosens his body with a pout as he walks over to the second swing. “whatever.”

time passes a little too fast for you two when you’re fighting like this because kazuha’s running over to you, breathless. “y/n! what are you guys doing?”

“zuha, hi! did you—”

“yep, i got your lip gloss.”

you chuckle, throwing your arms around her, “why are you the best roommate ever?”

mingyu scoffs, “what about you being the worst roommate ever?”

kazuha laughs, too nice to agree with him, “hey, that’s not true.” you hit him in the side, “you’re just jealous that you’re in a single. i guess money really does make people lonely.”

“i’d go for a double even if i was that rich,” jeonghan’s voice pops up from beside you. he sure has a knack for appearing out of thin air. “i couldn’t handle being alone.”

“not everyone can love themselves as much as i do,” mingyu shrugs, smugly as crosses his arms. “i’m self-sufficient like that.”

“if you guys are done, we should start moving,” comes yunjin’s voice from near mingyu’s car, “it’s already fifteen past 12.”

“i call shotgun!” yunjin shouts and you’re quick to fight back, “no way, i already called it.”

“if i didn’t hear it, then it doesn’t count,” she teases, leaning against the passenger side. you glare at mingyu, “i called it in front of mingyu! the driver is the one that counts.”

mingyu laughs at the petty fight, “y/n did call it earlier this morning.”

“that’s not fair! mingyu’s obviously going to take y/n’s side, you guys spend every breathing minute together. the rest of us don’t stand a chance.”

you smirk, “don’t be a sore loser, huh yunjin, you can call it when we’re coming back. if you remember to.”

“i hate you,” she mutters as everyone settles into the car.

“i’m open to music requests, dear friends,” you announce once you’ve started off. “but i reserve the right to reject any tasteless songs.”

“isn’t this the textbook example of a tyranny?” jeonghan breathes and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, “hey, the power comes with the seat. it’s natural selection.”

mingyu groans through laughter, “you know you don’t make any sense. just play some music.”

you roll your eyes, “he says as he laughs his fat ass off.”

“she’s just salty my ass is fatter than hers,” he mutters under his breath. the three in the backseat break into laughs at that, all at your expense as you gape at them. such betrayal.

“i don’t know why i call you friends. you’re monsters.”

kazuha pipes in, “y/n, are you calling your sweet roommate a monster right now?”

jeonghan is quick to join in, “honestly, i’d say kazuha is the nicest friend among us here.”

“fine, everyone but zuha’s out to get me right now.” the screaming continues for a little bit longer until yunjin and kazuha tire themselves out and pass out. you chuckle when you look at them, yunjin’s head bobs in the middle of the three until it hits kazuha’s shoulder, whose head then rests on top.

swiftly, you pull out your phone camera and capture the moment, sure to tease them later. as you’re clicking the photos, jeonghan’s face sticks into the corner with a sneaky grin and you shift the angle to include him. enjoying the attention, he shoots the camera a peace sign, followed by a little heart, and then a cheek heart and now he’s a bunny and then—

you pull yourself away abruptly with a shaky laugh, “god, jeonghan, this isn’t a photoshoot.”

he laughs back, “ha ha, sorry, i can’t help myself. it’s so fun to tease you like this.”

you feel the blood rush to your face at that, so you turn to face the road completely, a weak, “fuck off” on your tongue. mingyu silently observes the interaction, not without a little side-eye that you don’t know what to think of. “you should get some rest, y/n, you didn’t sleep last night.”

you frown, surprised mingyu knows that and you don’t get to ask him why he knows that because jeonghan interrupts, “you guys sure are close. i was talking to hoshi the other day, he misses y’all a lot.”

“he does? he can just come talk to us whenever though,” mingyu replies, doubt tracing his tone. “i don’t think we’re exclusive like that.”

“right?” you agree, “we used to be so close to hoshi, too, and then he moved to the other side of campus this semester and now i have like one class with him.”

“i don’t know,” jeonghan says, “you should talk to him about it, but there’s always been something stronger about the two of you together.”

you shrug, “we always end up together. it’s not that deep i think. it’s just how it is.”

the topic ends there as jeonghan agrees and dozes off himself too. you, however, feel eerily awake. awake? no, more like unsettled. something in your nerves is off and you feel on edge. you’re a little spaced out after that, as you finally reach the city circle with all the shops crowded next to each other with a little mall in the center.

as everyone gets off and gathers their things, mingyu pulls you aside with a concerned look, “are you okay, y/n?” his grip on your elbow grounds you a little. you inhale, knowing better than to pretend in front of him, “yeah, just a little uneasy. i don’t know why. probably just tired.”

mingyu looks like he knows something more about your condition, “are you sure? we can take a break at one of the restaurants before shopping if you want?”

“nah, i’m okay, don’t worry. i’m a strong girl,” you smile, reasurring him with a pat to his chest, “i feel better now. thanks, mingyu.”

he frowns, hand loosening against your skin, “you never thank me, weirdo. don’t be so formal.”

“man, there’s no winning with you, is there?”

he chuckles as he pulls you after the others, “no, i’m insatiable.”

—

an hour into shopping, you realize why you hate doing this. everything is so overwhelming when you’re in the city, so many people, so many clothes. at least you have friends with you as you scan racks after racks, ending up with three potential dresses on your arm. you mutter a prayer in your head that you can find something nice here so you don’t have to walk more. this is already your third store.

the first one is a classic: a little black dress. it’s satin so it sits smooth against your skin and feels soft when you twirl around. it’s a little short for your liking, perhaps too tight against your ass. you turn to the side to get a better look. you take a photo and send it to mingyu, who you’d been going back and forth with. he’d last sent you a photo ten minutes ago: him in a stupid minion onesie. you’d cursed him out real well in response telling him to stop fucking around. he writes back fast.

big gyu: u look good

big gyu: kinda basic tho

you: yea i thought so too

you agree with that, putting the dress aside in case you don’t find anything else at all.

candidate number two is more over the top: a long red dress with little black patterns on it, with a leg slit on one side. getting into it was a whole struggle but you get it on finally. it fits well thanks to the slit which also shows off some skin. you’re hot in it: like literally. the long sleeves don’t help at all. but you look good too, the flare doing wonders for your figure. you pause, sending a photo hoping mingyu would be of help.

however, when mingyu takes longer than a minute to reply, you groan, already sweating a little. concluding that he’s probably changing or something, you peek out your curtain, hoping yunjin was still in the stall next to yours. you call out her name, straining your neck to see if there was anyone else you could ask for help.

you spot jeonghan walking around the shelves near the fitting rooms and before you can hesitate to call him over, he notices your head poking out. he raises an eyebrow, sending your heartbeat into a spiral. “y/n? do you need help?”

you clear your throat, “um, yeah, i need a second opinion on this dress.” jeonghan approaches your corner and you panic when he reaches for the curtain to draw it back. his eyes question you, “can i look?” you let go of it to let him in, a tiny little rational part of you wondering he needed to come inside the room to see.

“ohhh,” he exclaims as he takes you in, “you look amazing. told ya red was your color.”

you turn away from him a little, “this dress is hot.”

“it sure is,” he agrees and you blush harder, “no i meant, like literally. i’m so hot right now.”

jeonghan presses his lips together, giving away the fact that he understands but being the little bitch he is, he chooses the option that makes you wanna combust. he presses two fingers to your cheek and mumbles, “yeah, you are.”

you push his arm off, “yoon jeonghan! you’re such a damn flirt! get out of here.” you force him out of your space and he’s uncontrollably laughing as he lets you. “i’ve another dress to try so wait outside for me.”

“sure you don’t need a hand changing—”

“no, thank you very much!” you scream, greeted with more pleased chuckling. your phone buzzes, catching your attention. you lean down to look at it.

big gyu: niceee thats hot

big gyu: u should get this dress

big gyu: pls

big gyu: pls

you: …girl why are u begging me

big gyu: because.

big gyu: you’re getting this dress right

you: no i’d die of overheating in it

big gyu: and it’d be worht it

you: i dont like how enthusiastic u are about this...

you: wtv this one's rejected.

you: i still have another dress to try

you put your phone down to try the final dress. this one was a purple slip dress with white flower detailing. it was skin tight against your boobs and a little transparent, giving away your black bra underneath. and to contrast, it sat a little loose on your hips which was honestly not the worst look, keeping from the dress becoming too scandalous. you enjoyed this dress the most so far. that was enough, given the track record.

“you done, y/n?” you’re startled when the voice outside is mingyu’s instead of jeonghan. you pull back the curtains in confusion, “gyu? what’re you doing here?” mingyu stops short, “fuck, i like this one.” you flush a little when you notice his eyes settle on your chest for a beat too long. “that’s stunning, for real.”

you laugh. “look at you using big words. but yeah, i think this is the one.” you look over at him, “did jeonghan leave?”

“um, yeah, he said he had to use the washroom when i ran into him on the way,” he mumbles. you nod, a little relieved because you think you’d die if he saw you right now. “anyway, i’m offended you were showing him your dresses and then all i got was a photo.”

“hey, you were taking so long to reply that i had seek someone else out. he just happened to be her.”

mingyu ignores that and tells you to hurry up, “i need your help choosing something for myself.”

“ugh, alright, give me five.”

in the end, you decided you’d get both the classic black dress and the slip dress, you needed more dresses in general. wouldn’t hurt to have more. when you’re done checking out, you find mingyu in conversation with kazuha who’s smiling with a shopping bag in her hands.

“zuha, you get anything?” you ask. she nods eagerly, “yeah! i got this pink dress that jeonghan helped me find just now. it’s really pretty, i’ll show you later in the room.”

you falter a little at that, glancing at mingyu who’d told you he went to the washroom. ignoring the growing unsettling gut feeling, you inform her you’d found something too. “nice, we should have a try-on in the room later.”

“you guys!!” yunjin joins the group, “this is insane. i hit the jackpot and found the sexiest green dress ever.” you laugh, linking arms with her, “you should come over later and try it on with us.”

“ah, the beauty of womanhood,” mingyu grumbles beside you, and you shove him. “you’re not invited, pervert.”

his jaw falls open, “excuse me? what did you just call me?”

you press an index finger into his bicep, “don’t think i didn’t notice you checking my boobs out earlier.” mingyu’s cheek redden at the light-hearted accusation, worsening when jeonghan appears right at the climax of the argument.

“okay, okay, first of all, i wasn’t checking anything out!” he complains, “and-and well, they—”

jeonghan cuts him off, patting his back with an amused smirk, “it’s alright, buddy, it happens to the best of us.” everyone laughs at that, much to mingyu’s chagrin who then becomes pouty for the rest of the walk to the next shop.

“c’mon,” you pull him into the store, “my turn to stare at your tits.”

“god, would you drop it?” he groans as he follows you in. “it won’t happen again.”

you giggle, “it’s okay with me, gyu, because that just means the girls look good.”

he groans again, “i really don’t need to be a part of this.” he wanders off into the store, embarrassed. you let him go, looking at clothes for him separately. turns out shopping for mingyu is harder than the concept of it sounds. it doesn’t help that he’s an expert at criticizing the small detail in every item you choose for him. half an hour later, you’re tired of him.

as if on cue, kazuha calls you to tell you to come over to an asian restaurant nearby to grab lunch. you thank the lords as you pull mingyu away, “there’s nothing here for me anyway,” he grumbles as you meet up with the rest.

entering the restaurant, you spot kazuha and jeonghan at a table nearby. yunjin’s still on her way it turns out as you sit across from them, heart in throat for the worst reason possible: you’re jealous. you may be down bad for jeonghan but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your ability to take a hint. trying to keep the thought from completely forming in your head, you make conversation with everyone, wanting to be better than this.

you want to avoid thinking about it so you’re quick to shut jeonghan off. he’s his usual self, joking around with everyone but he picks up when you’re not as receptive as usual. you hope he just thinks nothing of it, but you know that’s not possible when he approaches you after lunch as everyone else is washing up in the bathroom.

you’re outside alone, waiting, when he slightly pushes your shoulder to draw your attention. you gasp lightly. “jeonghan?”

“can i talk to you for a sec?”

you frown, “yeah, you’re talking to me right now.”

“come on, y/n, don’t be cold. let’s go for a walk.”

“but, the others—”

“i let mingyu know we’ll be back in a few.”

out of excuses, you silently follow jeonghan’s stride through the busy street. he makes conversation really well, easing you up in no time as he distracts you from what was on your mind. it’s illegal how smoothly he then proceeds to drop the act.

you’re laughing about what he’d said about hoshi’s drinking habits just now, when he suddenly goes serious, “i think i like kazuha.”

you freeze up at that, fighting the frown that itches closer, looking at him like you didn’t hear him. heart’s out of control right now, but at least you were already expecting this outcome. “huh?”

“sorry, i just thought you should know. i’m really into her and i was planning to ask her out sometime this week.”

you would love to pass away right now. immediately, you think you hate jeonghan for doing this to you. it’s clear from his behavior that he knows you like him and that he’s apologizing— he’s rejecting you before you have a chance to confess. he likes kazuha. he’s going to ask her out. you should know that.

you sputter awkwardly, “that’s great! good for you, jeonghan. and um, you really didn’t have to tell me. i’m sure kazuha would love to be with you.”

you never want to speak a word to anyone ever again and you're sweating ever so profusely, so you speed up a little, “and we should get going, no?”

sensing your mood, jeonghan follows along but says, “i’m sorry, y/n. i- i know you…”

you don’t let him finish because it would genuinely kill you to hear him say he knows you like him. “you don’t have to be sorry.” with that, you essentially leave your body. you move fast enough to reach the car, wordlessly getting into the passenger seat and yunjin somehow knows better than to fight you.

the car ride back is filled with music. not much chatter. you realize it’s partly your fault and silently dread being back in the room with kazuha, but to your relief, when you reach she doesn’t bring anything up. you’re too tired to do a try-on like you promised and when mingyu asks if you want to come over to his place, you tell him you’re feeling sleepy. and for once, you actually sleep after telling him that.

sleep is not as much of a comfort as you’d hope for it to be: less of an escape, more jeonghan-themed content. something about heartbreak and living the rest of your life, lovelessly.

—

the next week starts off hectic and you’re thankful for it this once. you could use the chaos of organizing an event to take your mind off things. a small part of you wonders if jeonghan was being merciful by letting you down and timing it so well. knowing him, that doesn’t seem so impossible.

you feel better than you’d imagined you would. you cried like once since the rejection. you didn’t need to worry much at this point, having realizing that it was less important that you’d made it out to be. mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t give up his worrying, especially when he doesn’t see you until three days into the week. and that, too, because he gave up and thought it would be a good idea to invade your room, at one in the night.

his knocking wakes you up fairly quickly, since you’d only put your phone down a few minutes ago. you rush to the door, afraid of waking kazuha up. “what the fuck, mingyu?” you ask at the sight of him.

“what the fuck yourself! stop ignoring my messages maybe?”

you groan, stepping outside your room, feeling the cold air hit you in your night clothes. “why’d you have to confront me so late at night? can we do this tomorrow? when i’m coherent and not half-naked?”

mingyu falter as if he just realized the time, noticing your tank top and shorts. “i don’t care. i’ll give you my jacket but we’re doing this right here and right now.”

you sigh, knowing this was coming. “forget it, keep your jacket. i’ll go change and be right back.”

mingyu grabs your arm when you try to go back inside, “how do i know you’re not just gonna leave me here to die?”

“dude, my room’s right here. you can come watch me change if you fucking want.”

he lets you go, flustered when you offer and you laugh as you rush back in. in the darkness, kazuha’s voice startles you, “y/n? is everything okay? are you being abducted?”

“oh god, zuha, you scared me. and no, it’s just stupid little mingyu who wants to have a talk. i’ll settle this. go back to sleep.”

she groans, “god, you guys are just like my parents sometimes.”

you laugh at that as you slip into a hoodie and exchange your shorts for pajamas. when you return, mingyu’s sitting at the stairs in front of your room and you hit him in the back.

“ouch! fuck you!” he stands up with a glare, “also i heard what you said about me. why am i stupid and little? can you just choose one insult?"

“let’s go down if we’re gonna argue. zuha can hear us, too. and did you hear what she said after that?” when he seems clueless, you go on, “she said we remind her of her parents sometimes.”

he coughs, “her parents?? what are we, married?”

you roll your eyes, “married and sick of each other, apparently.”

“being zuha’s parents doesn’t sound so bad honestly. she’d be the easiest child to raise.”

“i feel like zuha would raise you if you were her father,” you laugh, “me too, probably.”

“who’d be the father then?”

your smile falls when an answer occurs to you, you mumble, “jeonghan,” sitting at a bench outside your dorm. mingyu joins you, equally solemn now.

“did something happen between you two?”

“yeah. he rejected me when we went shopping that day.”

mingyu’s eyes widen, “what? you confessed?”

you shake your head, a strained smile, “he already knew. i guess i was obvious, but it’s still driving me insane that he rejected me without even giving me a chance to confess.”

“i can’t believe he did that. that’s conceited as fuck.”

“conceited or impressive, i can’t decide. but he told me likes kazuha and that he’s sorry. i genuinely wanted to die when he said that. he was cool about breaking my heart, too. lowkey fell a little harder for him.” you laugh at your own joke, but mingyu looks unhappy, jaw clenched like he’d tasted something bitter.

you hit his arm, “it’s not a big deal, dude. i was thinking about it the past few days and i realized i barely knew the guy. i just knew what he told me over the last year.”

after a pause, “and he’s one beautiful man, so there was that.” you smile a little.

“but he didn’t have to do it like that. he could just stop flirting with you, you know, or wait for you to come around and confess like a normal person,” mingyu says, “he’s such a little jerk.”

“hey, it’s okay, a little flirting didn’t hurt anyone.”

“yeah but he was leading you on, leaving you in ambiguity by doing that. he should’ve been flirting with kazuha, not you.”

“okay, now that’s starting to hurt,” you whine, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, “but i can’t really blame him, no? kazuha’s so precious.”

“don’t be like that, y/n.”

“what? be like what?” you look up, “didn’t you also used to be into kazuha?”

mingyu bites his lip when you bring his years-old crush up, “when will you forget about that? that was so long ago and it was barely serious. she’s too nice to be my type.” (what does that even mean? you wonder but don't have the time to ask.)

“sure, you didn’t want to change residence halls to be closer to her?”

“alright, how many times do i tell you that i did that because of you? why do you never believe me?”

“it just makes more sense the other way,” you mumble, suddenly feeling teary-eyed and hating that you were feeling teary-eyed, which only intensified the teariness in your eyes. “god, this is stupid.”

mingyu’s arm is around in no time when he notices you curling up, your lip tucked between your lips in anticipation, “hey, hey, c'mon, i thought you said it wasn't a big deal. so how come you're crying?"

“because! i feel lame. and because kazuha’s perfect, by the way. she’d probably cry too if she knew i was crying.”

he pulls you closer, “you’re not lame, y/n. you think i’d keep you around so long if i didn’t think you were insanely cool?”

you breathe through your tears, “you just keep me around because i’m insane?”

“insanely cool! open your ears, idiot.”

“you just called me an idiot. idiots are pretty lame.”

he sighs when he feels his tshirt get damper, your body so weak under his hold. he pats your hair softly, “sorry, that’s not what i meant. but seriously, y/n, you know i’m bad at saying this stuff but i seriously cannot stress enough how highly i think of you.” his hand moves to rub your back, “and you’re so much more than perfect, you know? like sometimes you don’t do a paper till three hours before and still get an A. and then, you come up with comebacks to my arguments in your own unique ways, and trust me, nobody can argue with me like you do.”

you pull away, “all right, now you’re embarrassing me. why do i sound like a bossy nerd or something?”

“you can be that at times. hey, but you forgot the part where you’re hot as shit. and also pretty.”

“i feel like that last part was an afterthought, mingyu,” you bite back a laugh, “you really only keep me around for my tits, don’t you?”

“dude, can you let me wholesome for once? i’m trying to console you, so would you stop playing devil’s advocate?”

“sorry, i’m just,” you hesitate with a heavy sigh and then, you blurt out, "i’m scared i’ll never fall in love. i’ll never find it at all.”

“now that’s some stupid thoughts you’re having,” mingyu shakes you by the shoulders, “you’ve just been blinded by your crush on jeonghan for so long that you haven’t explored anyone else at all.”

“are you volunteering to be my crush right now?” you ask, jokingly.

mingyu’s smirk catches you off-guard, “what if i am? it wouldn’t be the worst thing if i was your boyfriend.”

you feel yourself heating up a little for some reason, head in a daze from his earlier shower of compliments and now this. so instead of trying to make sense of it all, you press yourself into him in a hug. “yeah, it wouldn’t.”

—

“hoshi, you little shit!” you throw yourself around the guy when you spot him on the night of the flea market, the product of a long and actually insane week. he laughs when he realizes it’s you, pulling you into a hug, “bro, y/n, why is this my first time seeing in you in literal years?”

“i don’t know, i just kinda see you walking around sometimes. maybe if you actually showed up to econ class, i’d see you more.”

hoshi flinches, “you can’t be bringing econ up right now. that class is kicking my ass. i can’t keep showing up to that kind of humiliation.”

the two of you catch up at last, as people swarm around the different stalls set up along the college street. you were relieved after having finished this damn event. cheers to sleep, right?

hoshi tells you all about his new situationship with a guy in another class and how he’s regretting inviting him to the party tomorrow night. “why? believe it or not, people are more fun when drunk.”

hoshi rolls his eyes, “yeah, well, i couldn’t get any more fun. so instead i become incontrollable. an absolute animal.”

“right, i remember that. so you’re scared you’re gonna drive him off? i wouldn’t worry honestly. and if you want, i can keep you in check.”

he narrows his eyes in distrust, “you? you’re not much better than me drunk, okay? i feel bad for mingyu who’s gonna have to take care of you the whole time.”

you gasp, “wow, you’re taking mingyu’s side now? over mine? i thought we had something special.”

“you thought wrong,” comes mingyu out of nowhere, slinging his arm around hoshi’s shoulders.

“why are you here suddenly?” hoshi looks between the two of you, “i couldn’t not come to an event my lovely y/n herself planned, could i?”

hoshi laughs, “nice to see you two as jolly as ever. but also i must take your leave. i gotta go grab dinner soon.”

“hey, why don’t you come with us? we were gonna check out the new outlet the college opened.”

“oh, i would love to but i have plans with someone already.”

you nod your head in realization, “right of course, have fun. not too much, though. leave some for tomorrow.” he leaves with a full-toothed smile and you face mingyu.

he playfully pinches your cheek, “you confront him about missing us yet?”

you raise a shoulder in response, and as the flea market starts to fizzle out thanks to the darkening sky, your stomach grumbles. “let’s eat, please.”

ever since that night— you don’t want to say anything had changed between you and mingyu because your friendship had been long enough that even the slightest shift in dynamics would harmoniously just become the new status quo; the two of you had been through a lot together. but ever since that night, you’d been fooling around with him more, if that was possible.

it was along the lines of: less banter, more flirting? although one might argue that the former was just a derivative of the other. but semantics aside, this is what you know to be true: friends flirt with each other all the damn time.

that’s what you’re telling yourself when mingyu asks you to feed him some of the fried rice you’d gotten on your plate. and it was true: you’re almost a 100% certain that you’d flirted with every friend of yours, and that was just how it worked.

but intimacy came differently to everyone and mingyu’s just manifested in clinginess. he was pressed to your side for the entirety of dinner, and you couldn’t complain about the proximity. it was welcome, even, this form of friendship.

“you’re thinking too hard.” mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your little reflection session. “what’re you even thinking about? you should be all burnt out from all the work you did this past week.”

“i am,” you affirm, “but some things just don’t let up.”

he chuckles, patting your head affectionately as if to persuade your thoughts to let up for a while. it doesn’t help really, only gravitating the direction of the said thoughts toward kim mingyu even more.

“maybe repetition isn’t as bad as i always make it out to be,” you say, chin propped up against your fist on the table. mingyu had chosen a corner table of the newly opened eatery, next to a low window that glowed behind you in the remains of sunset as he shifted to completely face you. the sun had finally set. again.

“you’re right. routine is good for people.”

“but it doesn’t have to stay the same forever, you know?”

“hm?” mingyu can’t help but feel like you’re edging toward some underlying topic. you were like this since he could remember: you’d start off with some abstract and vaguely relevant concept (that had no doubt been plaguing you for a long time) and slowly circle around till he caught onto what you meant. you love playing games with him.

“repetition doesn't have to be redundant? i think there's something more subtle about it.”

he doesn’t know where you’re going with this, “but repetition is literally the same thing over and over?”

“yeah, but the ‘same thing’ itself can evolve,” your fingers knock against his, “i don’t know, i was just thinking about… us.”

“us? i guess we would be a good example of repetition.”

your gaze falls from his to find your hand instead, your fingers wrapping around his wrist until you’ve forced his palm open. his hand in your lap upside down, you pull at the fingers, “yeah, but we’ve changed a lot. for one, we fight a lot less. sometimes when i’m going to tell you a thought, you understand mid-sentence what i mean.”

“yeah, well, that’s what we get for knowing each that long. but really, what’s this about, y/n?” he captures your hand in his expertly, pulling your attention back to his face.

“do you ever think we should be more?”

mingyu breathes a laugh at that, a shiver running down his spine when he spots the solemn look on your face. and then, his smile turns grave. “y/n, we’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?”

“have we? every time i’m the one who brings it up and you kinda just shrug it off. no, don’t even try to argue with me. you shrug the serious stuff off. always.”

it’s true, mingyu admits in defeat, mind racing as he considers why you’re bringing this up now. the answer is easy: you were finally available. but he doesn’t say it out loud, like he never does. you’d confronted him about the state of your friendship before, unafraid to wonder out loud what it would be like if you started dating. you’ve received all forms of shut-downs from mingyu before so you figured you were the only one in an ambiguous place about your feelings for him.

if someone was to ask if you like mingyu, you’d probably say yes, but it’s more than that. you know better than to blindly fall for him. witnessing him in his relationships before, you know he can be ruthlessly cold to his partner once he’s out of love. you practice romantic love for mingyu: carefully because too much would definitely be dangerous.

“i have my reasons, y/n.” there it is. the strict mingyu. the rigidity in setting his boundaries was something you admired and aspired for when he exhibited it in the past. right now, you want to punch him.

you’re without a filter with him so it’s unfair when he treats you like this. you let him know as much: “i want to punch you right now. i’ve hidden nothing from you, and yet, there’s this wall you keep yourself behind. is this really one-sided?”

mingyu doesn’t know what to do with you right now, “y/n, why are you—”

“no, because it's not like i can't take a hint. so one minute you're flirting with me and then, you push me away like right now,” you point to his estranged fingers, “but then you act like nothing happened and go right back to being all intimate and touchy.”

“i just…” mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh, “i just don’t see the reason for labels. why do we have force ourselves into a restriction like that? we’ve always been above conforming.”

it’s your turn to sigh heavy enough your head hits the wall behind you. wasn’t this just his way of friend-zoning you back into silence? you’ve always been too embarrassed to push him this far because you don’t mean to hurt him. but you feel as though you’ve hurt yourself long enough now.

“so why’d you say that the other night? that it would be nice if you were my boyfriend?”

this leaves him speechless for a few beats and you continue, “that was just because i was heartbroken from jeonghan? you’re playing prince charming for me so i can go back to being your trusty little best friend?”

“y/n, you know that’s not true. i’m not playing anything in your life. i’m just being myself.”

you scoff, “you really are so fucking—”

“why are we actually fighting right now?” mingyu asks through an incredulous laugh, “this is actually so petty, dude, let’s stop. you know i love you, right?”

mingyu’s last resort makes its presence: a non-committal i love you. because at the end of the day, you’re still best friends. what was a little ‘i love you’ in today’s economy? nothing. especially when you’d hear him throw the phrase around all the time.

you stand up in defeat, “fine, let’s stop. you win.” you gesture for him to move to the side and he does so reluctantly when you glare at him like you’re genuinely mad. (you are.)

he follows you out the door, catching your elbow to slow you down. “don’t be like this. i know you’re mad at me.”

“i’m not mad. i'm tired and i just want to go back to my room,” you seethe, walking faster than him. he grabs hold of your shoulder turning you around.

“if you’re gonna storm off, at least go the right way.” you huff softly and let him steer you the right way to your dorm, hands still on you. you spend the way to the front of your room silently, waiting for mingyu to say something but he just does what he does best: take care of you.

as you reach the door of your room, he pauses, apologetic smile on display. “listen, let’s talk more tomorrow? get some sleep.” he reaches for your hair, tenderly running his fingers through the locks. there it is: the soft mingyu, his eyes wide as he stares you down for signs of stress.

his warm arm pressed againsts yours, you realize you don’t want him to just leave. you know the drill: tomorrow morning, he’ll text you to meet for lunch and everything will go back to being unsaid. maybe he’ll bring along seungcheol so you don’t bring anything up again. either way, it’ll be so natural you’ll think nothing ever happened. but you want something to happen.

so your hand settles around his bicep to hold on and partly to keep him in place. you lean in, “let me do one last thing and if you want to stop, i’m never bringing this up again. i promise.”

you don’t give mingyu a moment to react to your words and instead raise yourself up to his level, other hand on his chest, and press your lips to his. you kiss mingyu after the thirteen years that you’ve known him and the ten that you’ve wanted to. you counted the years just as you count the seconds that it takes for him to come to his senses and pull himself away.

he looks less upset than you imagined: more dazed. like he can’t believe what you’ve done. he looks at you with his lips parted and you have to tear your gaze apart, lest you should tear yourself apart with longing.

“y/n, i…” he looks away and that’s enough evidence you need. you step away from him, your easy smile back in its place, not before you pat his arm as it falls from you.

“it's okay. i understand. let’s be friends, mingyu,” you declare suddenly, catching him off-guard. you'd pulled all the stops and if he genuinely was uncomfortable with pushing the line between platonic and romantic, you would respect that.

he begins to say something but you don’t want to hear him speak, at least not right now when the sound of blood rushing to your head is the loudest it's ever been, and you certainly don’t want to falter again. you’ve decided. “good night."

—

mingyu should feel relieved. he really should be happy that you’re back to normal around him, friendly and playful like you’ve always been. he should count his blessings that you’ve accepted the status of your relationship with him as it is. but as he falls asleep that night, all that comes to his mind is the smile you’d sported as you asked to be friends.

it was all wrong: your lips against his, that was something of his dreams, not a reality he has to be escaping from. it replays in his head, your scent that he’d caught a whiff of now and then, whenever you’d wrap your arms around him. the heat of your skin he’d rationalize as the comforting presence of a friend for days later.

he’ll soon come to know how insanely stupid he’s being right now but until you knock some sense into him, he simply plays along with a sting he hides pretty well. he should, he’s been doing it for years now.

it’s the night of hoshi’s party already and he’s walking over to the location of the pregame, alone because according to a text fifteen minutes ago, you’re still not ready. you’d invited yunjin and some other friends to your and kazuha’s abode to apparently make the process easier, but if mingyu knows anything about the group, you’ve probably spent more time selecting the right song to play than get ready.

the door to dino and hoshi’s shared residence is already open as he strolls in, finding a group already on the floor, taking shots. he makes eye contact with jeonghan who beckons him closer and mingyu takes a seat next to him.

space is scarce so mingyu finds his arm pressed uncomfortably close to jeonghan’s, who oohs at mingyu’s fit, “ooh, you look positively sexy.”

mingyu grimaces, “do you have to put it like that?” he does look … positively sexy, mingyu admits, in the navy blue shirt he wore but— and here’s the punchline— with the buttons undone all the way to right above his navel.

“where’s y/n, by the way?” jeonghan asks, an eye at the entrance as he slides a shot glass toward mingyu. the question irks mingyu for obvious reasons and he keeps him waiting for a minute, waiting to down the liquid in glass (vodka unfortunately for his throat) to answer him. “um, she’s still getting ready. any minute now.”

“ha, that means she’ll be another ten. that’s a shame, i was hoping to pour her first shot.” jeonghan shrugs resentfully.

maybe the alcohol’s working faster since it’s been a while for mingyu, but his mouth runs faster than his head, “why’d you care? i thought you asked kazuha out a while ago.”

jeonghan raises a brow at that, “hmm. i did. but things did not work out so well. what with kazuha feeling guilty about y/n and… well, i also…”

“feel guilty?” mingyu asks, voice strained. he’s annoyed at having to listen to jeonghan’s side of the story. he could not care less about humanizing him and whatnot. he’s watched you suffer for far too long to be empathetic right now.

“yeah. and i thought i might like y/n, too, after all.” jeonghan says it so casually as if discussing his performance in a particularly challenging college course, not his feelings for a person who he’d recently rejected.

the word might pierces mingyu’s ears. the uncertainty behind it is in such stark contrast to his own… feelings toward you that he genuinely feels his breath heat up.

or maybe that’s just jeonghan when he leans over to refill his glass. “drink up, buddy.” mingyu’s just about ready to make a scene right now, shoving jeonghan’s hand off his back but suddenly jeonghan’s standing up, making his way to—

you. you’re here.

almost as soon as he catches sight of you, he looks away, pretending to give the vodka in his hand all the attention in the world, as he puts his lips to it and empties it. head is now light. that’s probably enough for now, he decides as he puts his glass down.

when he looks back up, you’re at the kitchen counter with yunjin and kazuha.. and jeonghan, who’s grinning as he hands out the bottles of fireball to the group, no doubt marketing it so convincingly that you’d think you came up with the idea yourself.

mingyu shoots to his feet, regretting it when his vision darkens but he pushes past, eyes focused on your figure— god, he forgot how hot you look in that dress. he tries to keep his thoughts in check as he approaches you, but it doesn’t help that your makeup’s even more meticulous than usual, eyes glittering and lips delightfully glossy.

he breaks into the space between you and jeonghan, arm against yours, catching your attention.

“my guy!!” you exclaim when you see him and then your eyes trail down to his chest and then back up to his face where his hair sits parted with the help of some gel. “you look like a slut. i love it.”

mingyu laughs, subjecting you to a similar once-over, “you’re one to talk.” your hair’s back in a bun of sorts, a rare occurrence because you seem to prefer have it around your face. he can’t help but pause at your exposed collarbones, the gold shadow you applied there earlier doing wonders to his already dazed headspace.

“is it already that part of the night where mingyu starts hitting on everyone?” yunjin complains, reserving the alternate version of her question (something along the lines of how impolitely he’d been eye-fucking you in front of everyone) for some other time as she nudges you to open the fireball in your hands.

you do so, looking at jeonghan who offers one to mingyu, which he refuses as he leans against the counter, hand silently at your back just in case. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, quietly enough only for the two of you, just in case he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

“nah, i just had two shots of vodka back there. trying not to mix for the sake of me tomorrow,” he mutters, patting your back encouragingly, “but let me know if you need help finishing that.”

jeonghan eyes mingyu on the side as the trio clink their bottles together and get to downing them. later, as things start picking up and more people make their way into the party, mingyu finds your arm. “do you want me to stay close by?” he frames the question in a way that you have an out, because he can tell that you’re still unhappy with him.

but you’re tipsy when your hand interlocks into his, “only if you’re going to dance like you mean it.”

the night goes better than you expect it to, especially since mingyu’s let loose for once. or perhaps… he’s always this carefree when drunk, palms kneading at your waist, keeping you close to his chest, which you try your best to not get too used to touching. he sure knows how to keep you on your toes (sometimes literally) even when wasted because you’re trying not to get too close. for you own sake.

that is until hoshi shows up beside you two, pulling you apart as he introduces you to a friend.. or a partner? you can’t hear in this state and just as you try to lean in closer to hear what he’s saying, you feel a presence at your shoulder, fingers poking you.

you turn to find jeonghan behind you, sloppy smile on his face as he screams something at you. you frown, asking him to repeat himself, hand on his bicep to steady yourself against the movement of the party.

“need to talk to you about something!” his words come at you, clearer. “right now?” you shout back, “what the fuck is it?” your body doesn’t want to stop moving so you groove against his side, and momentarily catching a glimpse mingyu’s heavy gaze on you. you almost completely stop then but jeonghan’s pulling you away, after him to a relatively emptier zone of the house.

you’re breathless, you realize, now that the spell of the music’s been broken. you rest against the damp wall behind you, uncaring as you look around for a liquid to quench your thirst. cunning as ever, jeonghan’s already handing you a plastic cup with a transparent liquid.

you narrow your eyes at him despite how wasted you are. “what’s this?”

he laughs, “i’m glad you’re vigilant as ever. this is water. cold. drink up.”

you comply, your throat throbbing ever so lesser after you’re done and you sigh in relief. “you might have broken my heart but you’re still an angel, jeonghan.”

“ahhh,” he exclaims joining your side against the wall. you frown when you take note of his fingers clasped together, almost fidgeting. yoon jeonghan, fidgety? that’s a first for you.

“actually, that’s what i wanted to talk to you about…”

when mingyu looks away from hoshi and his company to see if you were listening and when he finds out that you’re in fact in jeonghan’s embrace, he’s suddenly sober. and when your eyes find his for a moment, something in them changes and he calls out your name like a warning. but then jeonghan’s already leading you elsewhere.

mingyu wants to follow after you immediately but he realizes hoshi’s still talking to him. “hoshi, bro, can i find you in a while? i gotta make sure y/n’s okay.”

but hoshi stops him in his tracks, hand on his chest, “wait. please tell me you told her…?” he trails off uncertainly as mingyu catches on what he’s saying.

“i haven’t,” he admits, eyes still searching the crowd for you, “but i think it’s time that i do. only so much i can take.”

“that’s the spirit, man! okay, now go kiss y/n for me.” hoshi pushes mingyu with a start, not before the the latter shoots the man a glare and takes off in his search for you.

you’re still in that corner with jeonghan, who’s done narrating the past week’s revelations to you, all about his failed attempts with kazuha and his slow understanding of his real feelings about you. you’re far more unaffected that either of you was expecting, arms crossing in thought.

but then you say, “well, that’s fucking stupid. because i’ve realized i wasn’t as down bad for you as i once thought i was.” jeonghan’s smile falls a little with a disappointed sigh. “but,” you continue, “you know what i’m still curious about?”

when your hand creeps up jeonghan’s shoulder, he thinks he knows where you’re going with this. “i’ve wanted know if you’re really as good at kissing as everyone makes you out to be.” jeonghan’s already moving closer to you, enveloping your face in his hands, and his devilish grin’s spills out as his lips find your ear. “let’s find out?”

and that’s how mingyu finds you wrapped around jeonghan, making out like this was your last day living. and for a moment, he considers giving up and letting you have this. he even stops in his tracks in the crowd, his thoughts so easily drowned out by the music if he just lets go.

but his mind’s reeling when the sight of you kissing someone else just pushes him back a day ago when you were leaning up into him, soft breaths risking your lips against his and the way your body pressed into his just right. his feet move without a thought, then, shouldering through the bodies around the two in the corner.

you’re just pulling away from jeonghan to start to say something about how that wasn’t too bad when his body is lifted away from yours with an unannounced jerk. you gasp and then once again when mingyu’s face comes floating in front of yours.

“mingyu,” you breathe, unsteady from the series of events this past minute, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“what the fuck are you doing?!” he screams in your face, hands on both arms to keep you from moving. jeonghan’s walking to your side and you want to say something to apologize but you’re far too infuriated with the man in front of you to think.

“i don’t know! trying to get laid? finding happiness? love?!” you scream back with as much force. you call out jeonghan’s name, “i’m sorry. mingyu’s too drunk to—”

“jeonghan,” warns mingyu when the guy tries to break you free from his embrace, “can i have a minute with y/n.” it isn't a question.

jeonghan has the nerve to say, “maybe not. i wouldn’t leave you alone with her in this state.”

“oh, she’ll be just fine,” he replies and jeonghan simply looks at you for confirmation. but you’re still looking at mingyu, starting to tear up, head throbbing all at once. you stop fighting against his grip and mumble in defeat, “whatever.”

“if you’re going to lecture me about being bad, i don’t really want to hear it.” you’re back next to the kitchen counters with mingyu beside you. slowly, you sit yourself up on the surface, feeling exhausted. “i’ve heard it before.”

“no, that’s not what i’m doing. i just want you to stop and think clearly—”

you groan when you hear the beginnings of a typical you’ll regret this in the morning type talk, you slide off the counter and to your delight, you run into a guy holding up a can of beer for the taking. you’re quick to jump at it, grabbing it up from him and pulling the tab of the can open. just as you put the beer to your lips, ready to chug it, you feel it being pulled away, the next few moments occuring before you can comprehend anything.

suddenly you’re sitting back on the counter and your dress rides up when you feel mingyu push himself in between your legs. at first, you see his face close on yours and then the taste of beer meets your throat. no, it’s not just beer— it’s mingyu. his tongue spills onto yours, beer mixing with saliva and when you try to pull away, his hand at your neck tightens. you sit up straight and you feel his watch digging into your spine.

your head spins when you can finally breathe, inhaling only to cough out. heart in your throat, you look at mingyu in disbelief, “what the fuck!” but he’s already taking another sip of the beer and some of it slides down your throat into your dress, when his mouth finds yours again.

you’re weak in his arms, and the heat between your legs is only so rational. so you find yourself giving in and kissing him back when the liquid runs out, nails finding his scalp, earning you a deep groan that vibrates against your chest. that’s when he pulls away again, eyes finally meeting yours with an unprecedented intensity.

he leans in again, wet kiss against your cheek, followed by a grunted whisper of, “i love you so fucking much, y/n. it’s so hard to watch you run around with other men.”

you want to think you’re hearing things but mingyu doesn’t let you, another kiss right in the nape of your neck that sends shudders down your back. “i want to be yours so fucking bad. want to spoil you like you deserve.”

you swallow against the moan that rises in your throat, to pull mingyu’s face back to your eye-level, “then why aren’t you mine? why’d you push me away?” your voice breaks, betraying the pretense of indifference you try to prop up. his eyes soften, fingers brushing against your forehead.

his lips quiver and he sighs defeatedly. it’s a miracle you can hear him with all that noise around you. but you hear him clear as day against your hair when he finally says, “i’m scared. of loving you too much, of being too much. and i’m scared of losing you.”

mingyu’s imagined telling you these exact words before and how you’d react to them infinite times before but when you giggle into his collarbone, he pulls away with a blank look. your forehead is against his all over again and for the second time night you say, “that’s fucking stupid! if you were going to lose me, it would’ve happened a while ago.”

of all the things he’d imagine you saying in response, this was the simplest option, so unlike your usual overthinking self. maybe it’s the alcohol and adrenaline in your system speaking but mingyu somehow feels comforted, because maybe it really is that simple. it would’ve happened if it was going to. or maybe mingyu’s too drunk to make sense of it all right now.

so his lips are moving against yours once again, without warning, your breath all his when his arms tighten once against around you. you’re laugh grounds him enough to break away. you open your mouth to complain about the distance when mingyu’s back against your skin.

“shut the fuck up,” he groans, the command making you hotter than you’d like to admit. your legs close around his ass, pulling him closer and his hand slips across your boobs. the friction of his palm against the tight fabric of your dress makes you let out an undignified moan into mingyu.

that’s when he knows he needs to take you to somewhere more private for reasons more than one. you’re too lightheaded to move yourself so mingyu’s carrying out the house without a word anyone you two came with. it’s only when the cold air hits you that you realize you’re outside.

you struggle against mingyu until you're back on your feet and stop. “where are we going? i’m— do i know you, mister guy?” for a second, mingyu’s heart sinks when he wonders if you thought you were just making out with a stranger. then, you say, “i need to go back and find mingyu. gotta kiss him.”

ignoring the blush that colors his face, he grabs hold of your elbow, “i am mingyu, idiot. and we’re going to my room.” you shake your head to clear your vision, eyes widening when you recognize him. your hand finds his face with a light laugh, “ah! it’s my big guy.” the name doesn’t help mingyu’s condition at all, so he’s pulling you after him faster than before.

back at the party, kazuha starts panic when she realizes she’s lost hold of you, unable to locate you anywhere within the party. she tugs at yunjin’s sleeve who looks over in concern, “what happened to y/n? i can’t find her anywhere.” yunjin laughs at that, covering her mouth with her hand. “don’t worry about her. i saw her and mingyu leave together earlier. she’s probably in heaven by now, if i’m right.”

“hmm?” kazuha pauses as a thought pops up into her head, “wait… did they…?” yunjin grins knowingly, “yup. it really was high time they fucked.” the former lets out a satisfied giggle, “i know. they were so obvious without even being together. i was getting tired.”

“you were getting tired?!” you gasp at mingyu later in the night, panting against his pillow. you’re on your back and he throws you a tshirt of his to sleep in now that your dress is… demolished. you look at it sadly out of the corner of your eye. “i really liked that dress,” you whine, as he picks the remains of it up with a somewhat smug grin, “planned to wear it out again.”

“i couldn’t risk that. you looked too good in it,” he chuckles to himself as he jumps into bed with you. you sit up, feigning anger as you slip the cotton over your head, warming up when the smell of mingyu greets you. “i don’t know if i could resist seeing your tits out like that.”

you hit his chest hard with a lighthearted scoff, “i knew it! you’re such a pervert. not just a pervert, you’re also a brute.” you groan as you rub your thighs together gingerly. mingyu props himself up, pulling you down into a hug, rubbing your back. “sorry, does it hurt a lot?”

“it’ll hurt more in the morning,” you relax in his arms, pressing a loving kiss into his hair, “should’ve known you went so rough. asshole.” you giggle when he pulls away in disbelief at the last insult.

“how could you—!” you roll away from him, laughing. he shifts closer, caging you against the wall behind you, “hey, you can’t say stuff like fuck i knew you’d have a big dick and then expect me to go all vanilla! do you know what that does to a guy?”

you shriek in embarrassment, “don’t bring that up now!” your ears redden when mingyu forces you by the chin to look up at him. “besides, where do you think the nicknames like big gyu and big guy came from?”

mingyu’s jaw falls open at the revelation and you break out into a fit of laughter at his mindblown expression. “how- how long have you been thinking about my di-”

you hit him to stop him, “ever since you kept pushing me away,” you run a hand down his side, sly grin on your swollen lips, “and i had to come up with something if i wanted to get myself off alone.”

with an exasperated groan, he falls against you, suffocating you as his body goes limp above yours. you let out a gasp when you feel him hardening against your leg and he speaks into your neck, “you’re seriously telling me i’ve been missing out on taking you like this for… for how long now?”

you kiss his cheek, hand slipping down his boxers with a soft exhale, “a while. and if you hadn’t come to your senses today… well, i’d all but given up on you today. when jeonghan kissed me, i was just going to—”

suddenly your breath escapes you, mingyu’s hand around your throat and his lips on yours with a loud grunt. he stops your hand in its movements, “please tell me you’re not talking about jeonghan while— fuck!” he gasps when you bite his lower lip to protest his hand on yours. his hand gives way and you’re palming the tent in his boxers again, pushing him down against the bed, so thankful he doesn’t have a rooommate in times like this.

you place a kiss at the corner of his lips and trail down his chest, shirt long gone, before muttering, “forgive me?”

—

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

i really want to write a more wholesome ending but have not the time or energy right now, so i'll be back with a shorter spin-off/ epilogue of sorts about how you and mingyu as a couple work out, how your friends react, some skinship, etc.

anyway, this is my official announcement that i've become a baby carat :] didn't know how much i was missing out on before svt so this is very fun. so far, jeonghan's my favorite little guy, although as is clear from this... mingyu makes me do things. on the roster are: minghao and joshua. hopefully there will be more svt fics in the future. no promises <3 goodbye friends and foes!!

[cottonlemonade]

Help Wanted

word count: 656 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: University AU!Tendou x chubby!Reader

genre: smut

warnings: mdni, nsfw

Tendou would have liked to say that he was a gentleman. But when you showed up in his dorm room and announced that you were sick and tired of being labeled the campus virgin and begged your best friend to just have sex with you, Tendou didn’t actually hesitate for more than three seconds before shrugging and saying, “Alright.”, making room for you on his bed.

His roommate blinked at the two of you before packing up his laptop and mumbling something about “going to study at the library then”.

He knew he should have maybe talked you out of it but his mind was too busy screaming at the opportunity. He figured, he’d casually invite you for coffee afterwards in the cafeteria or maybe order a pizza and then confess to you over some melty cheese that he’s been in love with you since that time you used red hair spray to dye your hair, just so you could raise your hand for him at roll call while he was busy finishing up a paper in the library at the last minute. You had worn one of his hoodies (a new one he bought several sizes too big just so he could lend it to you without you commenting that his stuff wouldn’t fit you) and his roommate had walked in on him sniffing the collar with deep deep breaths.

And now he lay between your plush thighs, heart pounding, licking his lips in anticipation as he peeled your panties aside. You’re still wearing a shirt which he found unfortunate but there was no rush.

Before he began, he stressed how important it was to ease into it. He didn’t want to hurt you, of course, so he thought, good long foreplay and maybe making you cum first would be a good idea.

He leaned in and set a couple soft kisses on your soft pussy. You gasped and tried to close your legs with him still at work. He looked up at you, asking if you want to stop. Wordlessly, you just opened your legs again and he grinned, swiping his tongue through the folds.

“You taste sweet…”, he commented and you hid your face under your arms but moaned when he used his fingers to expose your clit.

Wanting to make it a more interactive learning experience he brought his right index to your lips, “Can you wet that for me?”

You hesitate for a moment, peaking out from under your chubby arms and then because you really needed to him to continue, sucked it into your mouth.

“Mmmh, I can only imagine what those lips would do to a cock. But we can do that next time.”

Bringing his slick finger down to him, he began ghosting it over your clit. The noises falling from your lips had him throb in his boxers. Tendou increased the pressure ever so slightly, pushing the little pink button to the left and right, watching happily now wet you already became. He slurped loudly, enjoying every drop of you like the first iced tea of the summer.

“I’m gonna put a finger into you now.”, he announced and your expression, already so deliciously dazed, changed to new excitement. You gave a small nod and he slowly pushed into you, stroking your gummy walls.

“You’re so cute… I’m gonna put a second finger in, okay?”

You nod again. This time, he decided to tease a bit.

“You gotta talk to me, gorgeous.”

“Yes, please put a second finger in.”, you replied breathily and moaned loudly when he started to move them in and out.

“Now, I wonder what would happen if I’d suck your little clit now, too. - What do you think would happen?”

“I’d…. You’d make me cum.”, you said quietly, a definite whine in your voice.

“That sounds like fun. Let’s do that, hm? Let’s make you cream on my fingers.”

[flowershines]

Unbearable Feelings

School Rival Virgin. Jungwon x F. Reader

Summary: Two academic rivals have to share a tent and an enclosed area from the class due to not enough space. (Huddle for warmth)

Warnings: Smut, mentions of baby trapping, rivals, virgin Jungwon, switch Jungwon, car break down, mutual masterbation

Song to represent Unbearable Feelings:

Hallways filled with people as they moved from one class to the other, glancing around the hallway as music ran through your ears trying to keep your mind occupied by reviewing the vocab you had to study for your next class. Mumbling as you tried to remember the phrases, looking up to try and think of the words that were somewhere in your mind, letting out a frustrated sigh as you just could not remember. Taking out the paper from behind your phone as you swiftly look at the phrase and repeating the french translation in your head, glancing at the wall closest to you still repeating the word and its definition in your mind. Moving onto the next line you said the phrase in your head then referring to see your paper if you had gotten it right, you did.

Feeling a pair of eyes look at you, your gaze was met with the one guy you despised, don't get me wrong he was okay and everything but you both had always wanted to be the top of your class. Debate after debate you would win then him then tie then repeating that order, you never understood why he always argued back all he talked about was getting into his dream job but getting into that business doesn’t depend on a stupid debate that you had won so why was he taking it so serious.

Quickly breaking eye contact then softly returning your gaze to him a figure appeared in front of you, turning your head to the wall and letting out a huff of air, a headphone was pulled from in your ear into the boy's hand. “Go away, Jungwon.” He placed his hand on his chest and opened his mouth as a way to act, referring to how ‘offended’ he was. Rolling your eyes he said, “I’m actually great company Y/n, see now you would notice if you really cared.” “Wow that's crazy cause honestly I don't care about you enough to want to know.” Opening your eyes wide and leaving your mouth open ajar to show your sarcasm. “Ouch, what’cha studying?” He asked, ripping the paper from your grasp, looking at the paper, “You don’t know these, I already know them all.” “Yeah okay.” a sarcastic laugh fell from your lips. “Say the English, I'll translate for you since you're having a hard time.” scoffing at his confidence you replied saying “Send a text message.”

Turning to him waiting for his reply “Envoyer un texto, évidemment stupido.” ( _, obviously stupid.) “Ha Ha very funny, how do you say I am a very ignorant man?” turning to him waiting for an actual answer from your sarcasm, “Je me tiens à côté d'une petite fille ignorante.” (I'm standing next to an ignorant little girl.) “Va te faire foutre.” (Fuck you) walking faster to try to get away from him he speeded up his pace as well, “Wait where are you off so fast?” “My class, just leave me alone, I don't know why you love to bug me.” “Was it something I said?” “Isn’t it always?” You told him walking faster as he stopped walking and just stood, finally arriving at your class you put your phone in your bag and continued to study your vocab till your mind was occupied on the paper your french teacher put over your paper lifting your head you saw her giving one to every classmate, including Jungwon.

Looking back at the paper you read from top to bottom, ‘French Trip, all students who wish to partake in this trip must give a $10 fund and sign the paper below. The trip starts 1.12.23 till 3.12.23 when finished hand in back to the teacher when done.’ Maybe this will give you some time to yourself which is much needed, spending time at your apartment with your roommate isn't always your favorite thing to do, she would always bring people over when you studied but it just made you want to work harder so that way when people see the new person you would become and how successful you were would be the best part.

But of course Jungwon just loved to ruin these things for you, he always had since you both started the same school. His priorities were your priorities, not to mention the business he wanted to go to was not even the best job out there, being as smart as he is you thought he would want to get into a better job but it was a business that almost everyone gets into. I mean if it's his dream who were you to stop him you just thought it was odd. Class was like any other class with Jungwon starting by the teacher teaching the lesson following by you asking a question on the assignment as Jungwon tells it to you and proceeds to make a blunt remark following his explanation back to you telling him off, starting an argument with him till the teacher tells you both to stop and get your work done.

But today was different. You didn’t ask any questions and just stayed to yourself the whole class, making no remarks, nothing, you barely even spoke to your classmates. You could feel Jungwons gaze seeping in through your soul, refusing to look up at him. You just continued with your work till the teacher assigned the homework and made a joke saying how quiet the class was that day, making the class look at you and Jungwon even then you didn't say anything. She passed out the homework then dismissed the class, standing up putting your bag on your chair. You took out your folder and placed the homework in there then proceeded to put it in your bag looking up from your bag you were met face to face with the one person who made you want to stay quiet that day.

“What do you want?” You asked while zipping up your backpack then putting it on, “You were quiet.” “Yeah so?” “Nothing I liked it, you should do it more often.” Lips touching each other making a straight line across your face then nodding. “Noted, you done?” “Yup.” Rolling your eyes and shaking your head he walked right by your side till you were by the doors to leave the school, “Where are you going we still have English?” “I know, I'm not going.” Opening the doors, he asked “Why?” “I wanna go home, I'm tired.” not waiting for his response you left the building getting your car keys out from your back, you knew it wasn't the best thing to skip out on English but it was the last class and you had nothing major going on that day.

The whole rest of the day you spent in your room studying and trying to make up the english work that you missed, she had emailed you the work as you told her you weren't feeling well and had to go home. The next day walking into the building was the same thing as yesterday going to the same classes, French class was the same as well you turned in the slip as the trip would be later today. Whole class she told the people who were going on the trip to stay in the class and the rest who weren't going to the library and study for any other class, almost the whole class left except for 6 other students not including you. Of course your favorite person in the whole world had to go on the trip as well, but you just figured you wouldn’t talk to him and actually enjoy yourself without him.

You noticed how for the past classes you had with him, he hasn’t made any comments, no rude remarks, barely tried to talk to you, no arguing, nothing. A part of you felt at peace with yourself being able to do all of your work and had extra time to study for upcoming topics, today was the day you had the trip. Being so excited to be by yourself with your classmates that you never really minded except Jungwon, you minded if he was going. Heading home from school you start to pack your bag with your pj’s, toothbrush, toothpaste, blanket, outfits, the book you had been reading in your free time, along with other unimportant things as well. The french teacher emailed the individuals to meet back at the school around 4:30pm being 4:05 you changed into more comfortable clothes then headed to the school, arriving there a couple minutes early you see almost all of the students that were attending including the teacher.

She had told everybody the address of where the place was, telling everyone their partner who they would be driving with as they would take one person from the pair's car. As the teacher called out the pairs the only person who you hoped not to get you had gotten as a partner, he looked at you as you looked at him pulling your eyes away from his stare you refused to look back at him not wanting to look at him as you will for a couple of hours already, great.

“We are taking my car.” You told him as he came closer to you after the teacher had finished talking, not giving him any time to respond back you started to head to your car surprisingly he followed in your footsteps back into your car. Unlocking you placed your bag in the back seat waiting for him to catch up and held out your hand to tell him to give you his bag, he reached his hand up to yours and placed the bag handles in your hand.

“So this is what it feels like to have you as a personal slave.” “Yeah, don’t get used to it.” You gave him a sarcastic smile and shut the car door behind you walking over to the driver's side of the car. Starting the car you see Jungwon in your peripheral vision putting on his seat belt and acting all sporadically holding the seatbelt with a tight grip. “The fuck are you doing?” “You got a helmet?” “Why would I have a helmet?” He shrugged “For your passengers.” “The seatbelt should be enough.” “I don’t think so Y/nie, your driving isn't the best I see you swerve all the time.” “Bull shit, I’m a good driver you on the other hand that's a different story.” He giggled at your remark, you softly smiled as you found his smile heartwarming but thought to yourself why were you smiling at him, HIM.

Immediately putting a straight face on not wanting him to see you smiling at his smile, putting the car into reverse then starting to drive Jungwon was being as annoying as he can distracting you so much from driving, “Omg Jungwon shut the fuck up.” He slowly turned his head raising one eyebrow making a disgusted face, “So mean” He signed sarcastically looking down pretending to be upset at your remark. After glancing at him you returned your gaze to the road, hearing a loud noise coming from the back of your car, “Did you just get rear ended?” “No, it sounded loud but we didn't get rear ended.” Blinking his eyes in confusion, “You sure?” you hummed at him to let him know that we were okay. “Then why are we slowing down?” “Jungwon shut up, I don’t know.” “It’s your car you should know.”

Rolling your eyes you pulled over on the side of the road, you put the car in park not wanting it to move as you went to check out what happened. Unlocking your seatbelt and stepping out of the car swearing to yourself as your tire was flat against the pavement on the side of the road, “I heard you, is everything okay.” he asked from the passengers in the car, “Flat tire.” stepping out of the car he appeared in front of you on the opposite side of the car as he slowly walked over to you to see the condition you guys were in. “You got a spare on you.” “No.” “Hasn’t your boyfriend or anyone ever told you it would be a SMART idea too.” “Well I don't have a boyfriend so nobody ever warned me about this stuff.” “So what would you think if this ever happened?” Looking directly at him shrugging your shoulders you, “Just call someone or hope for the best i guess.” He huffed and rolled his eyes pulling out his phone from his pocket, he ran his fingers through his hair frustrated as he couldn't get a signal, the only lighting found from the woods was the light of his phone that was resting in his palms.

“Are you getting a signal?” Taking out your phone as well and going to make a call nothing was going through saying the connection failed even trying the emergency call, it would only let you call the police. It wasn’t that big of a deal to call the police so you decided not to. “No, what are we supposed to do?” Looking up at him with doe eyes, holding your arms as a gust of wind ran through your hair along with the t-shirt you were wearing. “Maybe we should just stay here till someone comes or till we get a connection.” Walking back to the car you sighed before getting in as tears brickled at your eyelashes threatening to fall, Jungwon noticed before he was able to get in he shut the door of the passengers side making a tear fall down your cheek from being scared and embarrassed. All of the sudden the door on your side was opening to reveal him standing at your door.

He grabbed your wrists and took them so you weren't sitting but standing outside the car door, he pulled your wrists around his waist letting go then placing his hand around your neck. “It’s not your fault, these things just happen, it's nothing to get upset over.” He told you to pull away, looking down at you, wiping away your tears, hugging you tighter. “We can still have a good time if that will make you feel better, I brought a tent with us.” You looked up at him then hugged him tighter, he giggled. “Is that a yes?” You nodded against his chest, pulling away you cried even more noticing how you had gotten mascara smudged all over his shirt. “I'm sorry.” You told him sniffling as your hands went to your face to hide yourself in the state you were in, “Don’t worry about it, I bright extra shirts.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side of the car where all of your things had been in, taking out the duffel bag that had the tent in it and placing it in your arms. He grabbed a shirt from his bag and followed you into the forest not that far away from your car and not too deep into the forest as you had never seen the area before not wanting to walk into random animals territory.

Unzipping the duffel bag you went to turn around to ask him for help but you were faced with a shirtless Jungwon standing in front of you, not saying a word you quickly turned your head around, face starting to heat up you tried to pull your mind away form the image you just saw but you couldn't he just looked so gorgeous like that in front of you. He walked over to you with a smirk on his face as he was biting the inside of his lip, “Can’t look at me now, Y/n?” not saying anything you continued to act like you were busy reading the instructions he pulled them out of your hands, still not looking at him you looked into the woods. “Look, it's so pretty.” You were referring to the moon shining down on the trees making the river that ran through the trees sparkle, “So pretty.” walking to stand in front of you making perfect eye contact with his cock.

“OKAY.” You said shooting up from your spot, “Let's make this.” He smiled and took the lead looking at the instructions and starting to build the tent. Not long after the tent was all built you got off from your knees as you were pushing the tent pegs into the ground to make sure that the tent would stay in place. Unzipping the tent and crawling in you went in and sat down in the corner as you watched him get in the tent as well, “I’ll go get the blankets, you want anything from the car?” “Just my bag please.” “Such a polite girl.” He said, exiting the tent grabbing the things, hearing him walk back he came back and threw your bag at you, “You know what time it is?” “Like almost 10 I think” He pulled out his phone to check the time, “10:34” yawning, you covered your mouth and turned the other way not wanting him to notice how tired you were, “You tired?” He asked while setting up both of your beds.

“Nope.” “You're such a liar.” Shaking his head while giggling at your comment, “Just go to bed.” “But you're still up.” “Yeah I stay up late, go to bed if you're tired I'll still be here when you wake up.” Smiling softly at his comment as you noticed how he has never acted this soft around you before, he moved aside letting you be able to crawl to your spot, “I still have to get into my pj’s though.” “Nobody is stopping you.” “Turn around.” “Y/n I won't look, I swear I'm still making my bed.” “Swear.” “Pinky swear.” Taking off your sweatshirt and shirts from your bag you started to stake off your shirt as you made direct eye contact with the man in front of you, he immediately turned back around. Continuing you took off your shirt and put your sweatshirt on standing up after you're done and pulling down your pants grabbing your shorts that barely covered your ass and putting them on. “Okay, all done.” He turned around to look at you, he just stared at your thighs in awe his cheeks blushed not being able to look away it looked like he was in some sort of trance. He slowly looked away in embarrassment knowing that you saw him staring at you that way, he crawled into his bed as you got into yours as well he went on his phone and turned around so that way he wasn't facing you. Shutting your eyes and drifting off into your dreams you were awakened by shivering throughout your whole body, no light was being portrayed in the tent.

“Won?” He hummed back, “Are you cold?” “No, are you?” you hummed he sighed, “Come over here.” Unzipping your sleeping bag you crawled over to him and he had it held open as his back was now against the tent, so now he can see you. “Is there going to be enough space?” You asked him, “I don’t know, just get in here.” He shook the sleeping referring to how you should get in, crawling in next to him getting as far away as possible but still being able to zip it up again. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer and zipped up the sleeping bag, “So far away, you scared of me or something.” He asked sarcastically whispering in your ear, a shiver trailed down your spine from being this close to him and feeling his breath on your neck along with on your ears as well. “No?” He hummed, “You should be good now, go back to sleep.” following his suggestion you closed your eyes once again, fading away into dreamland, waking up you noticed you heard some noises coming from Jungwon behind you. Turning towards the side you noticed him still sleeping, rolling back to the side you were just on and closing your eyes thinking that you were probably just imagining the sound, but the noises got louder as you felt something rubbing up against you upper thigh. NO FUCKING WAY, IS HE… NOO.

Shuffling was heard behind you as a hand trailed down to your waist turning around you were facing him eye to his closed eyes that were closed tightly shut, his face alone made you think of him in certain ways. His eyebrows were knitted together, his eyes tightly shut, the veins on his neck were popped out, nose scrunching up and his bottom lip was placed in between his teeth. You felt something tap on you then go back, was that his dick? Heavy breathing was heard from him as his you would hear his breathing stop then go again the go but shake as he let out the air. Soft moans were pulled from his mouth, you just watched as he fell apart right in front of you his hands around your waist tightened as he pulled you closer thrusting his cock up against you rubbing against your pussy. A moan loud enough for you to hear fell from his lips from the friction, staring at him butterflies filled your stomach as his thrusts became more intense as his breathing became less clear and all over the place.

His eyes fluttered, not wanting him to catch you staring you immediately shut your eyes pretending to be asleep. He moaned the loudest as his hip shuttered against you, he had woken up just after he came which was starting to seep through his pants and onto your bare thighs. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He whisper shouted not knowing what to do, he pulled the waistband away from his putting his hand down his pants. “I came?! Oh shit, she asleep?” He sighed in relief seeing you ‘sleeping’ beside him, he let go of his pants and slowly unzipped the sleeping bag and exiting it. He cursed to himself as he went to crawl over you his leg ran up against your thigh realizing that there was a wet spot on his leg, lifting up the sleeping bag he noticed his cum dripping down your thigh trailing down to your ass.

He swore he could cum again just from seeing that sight, “Oh Fuck, what do i do? Fuck i’m still hard to.” He looked down noticing the tent in his pants, picking up his phone he checked the time it was almost 2 he was exhausted and just wanted to be in his bed which would allow him to jerk off to the dream he was having about you. He wanted to jerk off so bad seeing his cum on you along with remembering his dream he had of you made him moan to himself he quickly placed his hands i’ve this mouth scared that you would hear him, digging through his bag to find something to wipe off his cum with. He found the t-shirt that had your mascara on it and decided he would use that, he slowly lifted up the sleeping bag and saw how the his cum was now on your ass cheek. He softly ran the t-shirt down your leg then around to your ass he but his lip trying to not make any noises as he ran the shirt along your ass, he went towards his bag and pulled his pants down below his thighs and trying to get his cum that was on his pants on the t-shirt.

You stirred to his side he stopped his motions and placed the t-shirt over his dick thinking that you were awake but was relieved to know that you were still ‘asleep’ you opened one eye as he turned away staring at how he struggled to grab his cock from it twitching, grabbing the base he moaned slightly pulling the shirt he was wearing in between his teeth to silence his moans. Grabbing the tip of his cock he ran the shirt along his slit wiping off all the pre cum that was leaking from his tip, getting the sudden urge of confidence you decided to say something. “Won?” You couldn’t look at his eyes but staring directly down at his boner that was twitching from lack of touch and due to the cold air, his head shot up from looking at his cock in disappointment to looking at you as you looked at his dick.

Seeing you stare at him filled with lust in your eyes made him twitch as he quickly pulled the shirt over his dick making you look at him directly in the eyes, “It’s not- I swear- Y/n-” “Relax Wonnie, I was already awake.” you said sitting up, he tilted his head to the side “Huh?!” “You were moaning rather loudly and when I tried to fall asleep you came on me.” “OH. My. God Y/n i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to i just hand a wet dream about you and couldn’t help myself when you were that close to me, i’m so sorry if anything happened that you were uncomfortable with. I can go sleep in the car-” “Won relax it’s okay.”

His breathing became rapid you started to go near him to calm him down but as you did his cock twitched each step closer you took, “Wha- What are you doing?” I was just going to cuddle with you so maybe we can fall sleep again, “I don’t think that’s a good idea Y/n.” “Why?” He looked at his cock then slowly brought his gaze up to you, “I couldn’t control myself the first time so i definitely can’t the second now that you have seen me like this.” “I can help.” You say energetic, “WHAT?!?” “I’m being serious you said you had a wet dream about me, i can make it come true.” “No Y/n I can’t make you do this.” “But i want to.” he chewed the side of his cheek. “Y/n if you just saying that please just tell me-” You pulled him in by his shirt over to you kissing him on the lips leading you both to a messy make out as you travel down to his collarbone, moving onto his lap straddle him as his cock twitched against your stomach bringing your hand down to his dick and starting to jerk him off. He places his hands on your ass as his head tilts back and moaning from your touch, his eyes were filled with need wanting more, wanting your pussy.

Wanting to shove you down onto the sleeping bag make you beg for his cock then shoving his dick in you then fucking you senseless, but making out with him more he leaned forward slowly as he softly placed you down onto the sleeping bag that you and him had just been in. Fiddling with the bottom of his shirt you tug on it lightly as he sits up and grabs your wrists and slowly trailing them up you knew that he wanted you to take it off, soon after taking off his shirt he grabbed your waistband of your short shorts and tugged them down to your ankles as he then took them off for you.

He was mesmerized staring at you in adoration loving every movement you were doing, he stared at your panties which had a tiny pink bow right in the middle his fingers ran through the loops of the bow as you took your sweatshirt off. “So pretty.” He said playing with the bow and waistband placing his hand inside your panties rubbing your clit as you ran your fingers long his slit, he grabbed his dick and ran it along the outline of your pussy. You both moaned from the sudden stimulation from him dry humping your pussy slowly, you moved your panties to the side taking his dick in your hands and running it along your bare pussy. “Please need to be in you, i’ll be good i swear.” “You have a condom?” he shook his head but rubbed his cock along your pussy lips, “Just the tip then, no more then that.” Instantly spitting on his tip for lube as he started slowly pushing in the head of his cock moaning loud enough you thought the birds in the trees could hear, you placed you hand over his mouth to shush him.

He slowly started to move in and out of your pussy one hand grabbing onto your tit for more support while his other hand was jerking off the base of his cock, “Y/n need more, need to feel more of you please.” “Fine but I do the moving so lay down.” he quickly obeys your order and lays down on the sleeping bag. Cock straight up in the air waiting for you twitching due to the anticipation getting up you crawled over to him and got on top of him straddling his lap your pussy just inches away from his dick, grabbing his base he moaned from your hand on him while you aligned him up to your entrance. You kissed him just hovering above him, he wrapped his arms around you bear hugging you as he pushed his cock up into you bottoming you out making you moan from the sudden feeling of him filling you up. Whines fell from his mouth talking about how good you feel, how so hard he is for you, can stay in you forever, never wants to leave this position and how he wants to feel you cum around his cock. “Please Y/n need to feel you cum around me, it’s all i’ve ever wanted, need you so bad it hurts please can i move?” Nodding your head he thrusts into you two times slow and taking his time but on his third thrust he pushed so hard up into you while his hips kept fucking up into you fast, during one of his rapid movements his cock fell out of you leaving a whine from his lips.

“Your so perfect, I’ve always wanted to bend you over those desks and fuck the attitude out of you.” He huffed and kissed your ear keeping his heavy breathing right by your ears, he moaned in your ear shocking you but it was because of how you were clenching on him cause of his moaning louder and squeeze you harder his cock started twitching in you, you started to rub your clit as you would clench on him more. He loved the sensation of your pussy squeezing around him, you stared to sit up he let go of you and placed his hands in your waist you brought your fingers up to his nipples as he stopped his movements to roll his head back as his body rolled back to his dick making his movements continue even header this time. “Y/nn- I gott- I gotta cum-” “Then cum.” “Where do you want it?” You started to think about his question thinking about where it would be the easiest place to clean the mess up after. “Y/n I n-need an answer- now!”

His hands went below you to be ready to pull out and cum where you tell him to, “Just cum in me.” “I’m not playing Y/n tell me now.” “In me.” you slammed down on his hips, “I’m not gonna c-cum until you tell me somewhere else, please Y-Y/n need to so bad. If you w-want it in you can w-we please-e talk about this first.” getting off of him you brought your head down around his dick as he took both sides of your head and thrusted up into your mouth not caring how you gagged below him. After he finished cumming you looked up at him as his cum was dripping down your chin, picking it up with your finger and putting it back in your mouth then swallowing all of it. “Thank you so much, I mean it Y/n.” “You weren’t that bad.” he looked down disappointed, “Hey i’m just kidding I loved it you did so good.” you tackled him with a hug laying on him. “I was a virgin by the way.” he said looking down at you, putting your hands on top of one another placing your elbows on either side of his body you responded saying, “I know, usually if a guy isn’t really a virgin they just cum in her no questions asked and it was your wet dream whining that gave it away for me, but it was so cute.” you smiled big from ear to ear. “Did i do good?” “You did great, we should do it again some time!”

He pulled his arms around you turning to his still holding onto you as you cuddled into his chest right before falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. “Goodnight Y/n.” He kissed your forehead before falling asleep holding you.

[yan-randomfandom]

Yandere!Stanford Pines & Borrower!GN!Reader

[PLATONIC] Borrowers are really tiny humans who "borrow" items and food! requested,,, am so sorry if this isn't what u expected 😔

Ford's toothbrush is missing.

In fact, many of his things have gone missing for the past few days. Did Bill possess his body again and decide to prank him?

His eyes catch color behind the toilet. Ah, there's his toothbrush. It must have fallen off.

When he picked it up, it was much heavier than usual. Of course, anything else could've been a reasonable explanation and not some tiny human holding onto the toothbrush for their dear life.

Ford doesn't let you escape, immediately bringing you to his office. You spit out profanities on the way, banging your fists on his fingers.

"Fascinating," he mutters, moving your limbs around. "You're just a tiny human."

"They call us borrowers," you say as you keep avoiding his hands. You notice something. "You have six fingers. Did giants always have that? Never noticed."

He suddenly feels smaller than you. "Not usually."

Ford learned that you actually lived under his floorboards. He had to compromise with you so that you would stop stealing his stuff.

"Roommates?" you tilt your head. "As long as you don't kill me, I guess. And I said I was going to return it!"

He doesn't believe you. He hums, scratching his chin. "Your species must have been hit by the light of height-altering crystals. I'm guessing the way your people survive is by stealing from others."

"Borrowing."

He gave you all sorts of delicious food. Well, they're mostly store-bought, but it's better than anything you've gotten before.

Not to mention his stuff. He had way more than what you were expecting. All the more to decorate your house and expand your collections! He's generous; you'll give him that...

There's something you can't shake off though. Ford's a weirdo if anything.

Bill Cipher knows about you. But he doesn't really care because you're just like any other creature that Ford has gotten. He'll only intervene if you manage to distract Ford from the portal.

So it's a good thing you're doing the opposite. You're actually helping in your own little ways, such as bringing him pen and paper.

Sitting on Ford's shoulder, you keep yapping about rats eating your house. He doesn't mind the noise, albeit he's not really listening, but it's so much better than silence.

He has fallen asleep. You grab the blanket from a nearby table and drape it over his body the best you can. This man does more work than your entire lifespan; it's so concerning.

"You don't want to try becoming a full-sized human? Why not?" Ford asks sincerely, almost concerned. You becoming not tiny is what you were supposed to be.

"Me? Turning into your size?" you make a disturbed face, "no thanks. I feel like my life would be more complicated. You're taking care of me, and that's enough."

He smiles. "Interesting."

Once again, you find him asleep on the desk. You search for a good spot next to his arm and curl up to his warmth, closing your eyes and drifting to sleep.

...You wake up to relentless movement. Looking up, you meet Ford's crazed, hectic eyes.

"You," he exhales, his voice sounding different. "Not here to steal my eyes, are you?"

Without warning, he grabs your body. You tremble. "Bill didn't tell you to, right? You're the perfect size to scoop out someone's eye..."

"Ford—" A bright flashlight shines on your eyes.

He forces one eye open. A few seconds pass. "You're, ah, clear. I'm so sorry."

The human finally lets you go. "What the hell was that?! Are you okay??"

"There's something dangerous here," he winces as he goes around the room, locking all possible entrances. "We have to stop everything we've ever worked for! What I worked for!"

He walks over to you, a smile curling on his lips. "Don't worry. I'll protect you, little borrower. Won't let him lay a single finger on you."

Before you could even blink, you're pushed inside something. You quickly run to the front, holding the bars that kept you away from escaping. "Wait, let me go! You're being crazy!"

"I know this seems bad, but it's only temporary," he replies, locking your cage. "Not until I finish the protection around the house. I'll have to call Stan..."

yes he has cages.... he caged shmebulock 😭

gotta thank @shabbyshoebox for this treasure (tell me if u wanna be untagged!)

[jessiexflem]

- all-american | jessie fleming x reader

content: fluff, UCLA Jessie! (and Teagan being a butthead)

word count: 1.4K

requests are open :)

“You’re staring again,” Teagan pokes her teammate with the eraser on her pencil.

Heat rises up Jessie’s neck and face as she turns her head to glare at the Australian, “I am not!”

“Oh, whatever,” Teagan scoffs, rolling her eyes, “you’ve been giving her heart-eyes the entire time we’ve been here.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah? Then what’s the answer for number twelve?”

Jessie glances down at her calculus homework, the paper mostly unaltered except where she had scribbled her name in the top corner. 

“Thought so,” Teagan replies smugly, “Gotta get your head screwed on, Jess, our grades depend on it.”

“You aren’t even supposed to be talking right now,” Jessie points at the ‘quiet please’ sign above the librarian’s head before focusing back on her homework, hoping it would encourage her friend to drop the subject.

“Come on, Jess, why don’t you just ask her out?” 

“I thought you told me to focus on our homework,” Jessie sets her pencil down with a huff, “Plus, why would I do that?”

“Because you like her?” the Australian gives her a ‘duh?’ look.

“No, I don’t!” Jessie’s cheeks flush, “What makes you think that?”

“Well, for starters, we’ve been sitting here for over an hour, and you haven’t noticed that I moved your calculator underneath my notebook” Teagan chuckles, “Not to mention, any time you see her, she’s all you can talk about for hours. ‘Y/N’s so smart, Y/N showed me how to do this in lab, Y/N wasn’t in class today, and I missed her so mu–’”

“We’re just lab partners, that’s all,” Jessie shakes her head. 

Teagan crosses her arms, tipping her chair onto its back legs. She narrows her eyes at her roommate, a cheeky smile tugging at her lips. “Alright, so if you insist you don’t like Y/N, you won’t mind if I ask her out on a date?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But you don’t like her, right? So, you wouldn’t be jealous?”

“Go for it,” Jessie replies dryly. She knew there was no way Teagan would actually ask you out, she barely knew you. She wouldn’t even know who you were if she hadn’t (annoyingly) crashed one of your study sessions during midterms last semester. 

Putting her head down, Jessie redirects her attention back to her neglected math problems. The assignment was due at midnight, and she managed to make zero progress. Copying the numbers from the first question, she starts working through the equation until she realizes she needs a function on her graphing calculator.

“Can I have my calc–” Jessie stops mid-sentence as she looks up to see Teagan waving you over to their table, “What are you doing?!”

“You said I could ask Y/N out, so I figured I’d catch her as she was leaving.”

Backpack slung over your shoulders, you weave your way toward where the two were sitting. You notice Jessie’s posture tense as she whispers frantically to her teammate. Catching her eye, you direct a smile at your lab partner.

“Y/N!” Teagan greets cheerfully, “Done studying for the day?”

You shrug, “I should probably look over my ethics study guide a bit more, but I could feel my brain going numb and figured it was time for a break. What about you two?”

“Well, if you’re needing another study break later this week,” Teagan starts. Intrigued by what she had to say, you didn’t notice the color drain from Jessie’s normally rosy cheeks. “We were wondering if you were free Saturday afternoon? Jessie and I have a game at 4, and we wanted to invite you to watch.”

Jessie, realizing she was subconsciously holding her breath, let out a deep exhale. 

“I’d love to! I haven’t been able to make it out to one yet,” you say as your phone begins to buzz in your hand, “I’ve got to head out, but text me the details, Jess?”

Jessie nods rapidly, her brain unable to form a coherent answer. She watches you walk away, feeling Teagan’s eyes burning a hole in her cheek. She didn’t even have to turn her head to know that her friend had the biggest smirk on her face.

“So, if I ever think that my lab partner’s getting asked out on a date, should I look like I’m about to puke, too? Or are you going to admit you have a crush on the girl?” Teagan teases.

“I hate you,” Jessie mutters, glaring at her.

“Bet you can’t wait to show off your first team All-American skills, huh? You better practice what goal celebration you’re going to dedicate to her.”

“I’m done talking to you.”

“Jessie and Y/N, sitting in a tree, K–”

“Just give me my calculator back.”

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

Jessie was having a horrible game. She couldn’t remember the last time she played this poorly. Constantly losing the ball in the midfield, getting outrun and out-muscled by her opposing mark. Her head was running a thousand miles a minute, and the only thing she could focus on was that Y/N was sitting front row. 

It was the opposing team’s corner, and Teagan was shouting directions, ensuring each of her outfielders had their mark. The ball gets served in, and Jessie goes up for the header, making contact square on her forehead. However, instead of directing the ball out of the 18, her body was angled slightly toward the goal, meaning the ball veered toward Teagan instead. Luckily, it hit off the post and fell to their teammate, Hailie’s, feet, who cleared the ball toward midfield.

“Jessie, what the hell?” Jessie hears Teagan shout from behind her.

The halftime whistle blows, and Jessie couldn’t get to the locker room faster. Before she could reach her cubby, Coach Cromwell pulls her off to the side.

“Fleming, do you want to explain why it looks like you’ve never touched a soccer ball before in your life?” Coach Cromwell raises an eyebrow at her. 

“I–I don’t know, nerves, I guess,” Jessie gnaws on the inside of her cheek, unable to make eye contact with her coach.

“Well, you better get your nerves sorted by the end of halftime unless you want to get benched for the rest of the game.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jessie nods, keeping her head down as she shuffles to her locker. Teagan, assigned the cubby next to her, frowns at her, brows furrowed with concern.

The second half went smoother for the midfielder. Her tackles were timed better, and she had better possession of the ball. The game remained tied at 0-0, UCLA pushing the ball into the opposing half of the field. Hailie sent a ball into Jessie’s feet, and she dribbled down the sideline, the opposing winger closing in on her. Faking left, she got the opponent to bite, leaving her a hole for Jessie to slip the ball between her legs. The crowd went nuts, you included. Jessie laid the ball off for her teammate, Ashley, who took the ball into the corner drawing a defender so the Canadian could make a run in. Ashley crossed a low-through ball into the box, which Jessie met at the top of the six, slotting it into the bottom-left corner of the goal. 

You jumped to your feet, cheering as loud as you could. Noticing Jessie scanning the crowd, you give her an overexaggerated wave, to which she acknowledges with a smile. The game ends 2-0, Ashley tacking on another goal in the final two minutes. Waiting for Jessie and Teagan to complete their “good games” and post-game huddle, you stick yourself by the fence in a spot where they could easily find you. 

“Y/N, you made it!” Teagan exclaims, jogging over, Jessie not far off her heels. 

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you beam, “you guys did awesome! Great goal, Jess.”

Jessie’s cheeks flush as Teagan throws an arm around her, “She nearly had two.”

“You’re never letting me live that down, will you?” she groans, trying to avoid Teagan’s soft punches to her ribs.

“Teagan!” the three of you turn to see Hailie motioning Teagan back over to the bench, giggling, “Come here!”

“I’ll be back,” Teagan says, shooting Jessie an obvious wink before running off. Jessie throws her hands up in protest, grumbling something under her breath. She turns back to you, cheeks still red.

“Um, thanks for coming to watch,” she smiles sheepishly. A few yards behind her, she can hear Teagan making loud, fake coughs. Their conversation from the other day flashes through her mind. “I still have to shower, but would you, uh, maybe want to get dinner? With me, I mean?”

“Teagan and Hailie, too? Or, are you asking me out on a date?” you grin.

“I–well, I mean,” Jessie stammers, her face hot. 

“Because I’d much rather it be a date,” you assure.

Relief floods through Jessie’s entire body. “Then it’s a date.”

[s4nniebe4r]

the roommate

part ten: domestic

pairing: roommate! san x fem! reader

synopsis: things in the apartment have become a little more comfortable

wc: 5.5k

tags: slow burn, roommates, enemies to lovers, angst, forced proximity, eventual romance

etc: so sorry this took longer to post than usual! i should take the time to let you all know that updates are sporadic as this is something i do in my free time! i’m so happy you all received this series well and are enjoying it! lots of love, liebchens, and as always, this is not proofread!

previous part next part

You don’t even remember when it started, when the evenings started to stretch and melt into one another. 

It’s quiet tonight, but it’s not silent. The soft clicking of San’s controller fills the living room in a little rhythm, broken by the occasional shout from the voice chat playing through on the television screen. You’re curled up into the left side of the couch, legs tucked under you, laptop open but practically untouched from the past hour. The document sits there half-finished on your screen, you’ve typed and deleted the same sentence at least six times now. 

San’s on your right, his back resting against the arm of the couch, one leg bent whilst the other stretches along the cushions, his leg nearly brushing yours. His hair’s a little messy, damp at the ends from a shower earlier, and his expression is so focused. His eyebrows are furrowed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. There’s a hoodie sleeve pushed halfway up his arm and his controller rests comfortably in his hand as he moves through the game. He’s mid match as you glance up at the screen, some brightly lit map you couldn’t even tell the name of if you tried.

It should annoy you. It should annoy you how immersed he is in it. But it doesn’t. Not tonight. 

He’s losing his match. And he’s clearly not very happy about it. 

He huffs through his nose, leans forward, then back into the armrest again. “What is this idiot doing,” he mutters, barely loud enough for you to be able to register it. 

You stretch your legs a little, shifting in your seat. The cushion dips slightly where his thigh finally slips close to yours. You hide a small smile, dragging your cursor across your document again. You’re not even pretending to work anymore. Your paper is an end of semester reflection due this upcoming week. Every time you start typing, your eyes drift toward the game. Or toward him. You’re not even watching the screen so much as watching him. The way his brows twitch. How he exhales sharply whenever he dies. How he leans forward when the stats start getting tighter. It’s kind of endearing. 

You’d never say that aloud though. Never. 

“Why are you making that face?” San asks suddenly, not even taking his eyes off the screen.

You blink. “What face?”

“That face,” he says, still focused on the game. “Like you’re actively judging me.”

“Maybe I am.”

He scoffs and then returns back to his game. Letting out a string of curses as his character dies on screen again. You hear the other players shouting at him as he continues to mash the buttons on his controller. 

“You good over there?” you ask lightly. 

He doesn’t look away from the screen. “Peachy.”

You stifle a laugh. “Want me to backseat again? I can tell you what you’re doing wrong. Just say the word.”

“God, no.” The slants a quick glance at you. “You don’t even know what’s happening.”

“I don’t need to,” you reply, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. “You keep playing the same map over again. You just threw… a smoke? And got knifed by someone behind you.” 

San groans. “I really don’t need a commentator, thanks.”

You hum, tapping a key idly on your laptop. “Seems like you might actually.”

He turns his head slightly to glance at you, narrowing his eyes. “Think you can do better?”

You lift your brows. “Is that a challenge?”

San sets the controller down in your lap before you can argue. “Here. Prove it. You won’t last five seconds.”

Your mouth opens, then shuts again as you tilt your head. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” he says, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Come on, superstar. Show me.”

With a theatrical sigh, you shift your laptop to the side, shuffling to be positioned even closer to him now, and pick up the controller. The second you enter the match, you’re overwhelmed. Your character spawns in, and within seconds, you’re already taking fall damage from jumping off something you weren’t supposed to. You wince as the screen flashes at you. 

“Okay, that was on purpose,” you mumble. 

“You lost almost all your health just from falling, Y/N.”

“I was just looking around.”

“We’re in a match.”

A beat later, a single bullet from the corner takes you out. You frown at the screen, scowling. 

“No. This is rigged,” you mutter, brows scrunching in concentration. 

“Sure, sure,” he says, nudging your shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that.”

You last another three minutes before tossing the controller back into his lap with a dramatic groan. “I hate this stupid game.”

He’s still grinning when he takes it back. “It’s okay. Not everyone’s built for it.” 

“Whatever,” you mutter as you stand, stretching your arms over your head. “I’m going to the kitchen for food.”

“What are you making?” he asks, already half-distracted, fingers flying over the buttons again. 

You shrug as you walk behind the couch. “I dunno. Fried rice, maybe.”

You move into the kitchen, tugging open the fridge and collecting what you can—leftover rice from the night before, an egg, and some sad-looking vegetables that need to be used sooner rather than later. San’s still back on the couch, but you can feel a set of eyes follow you briefly as you shuffle around. 

You’re mid-stir when you reach over the burner without thinking. Just a quick reach, barely a stretch, but the heat is too close. It’s nothing bad, but you can still feel it. You flinch as the edge of your wrist catches a sting of warmth. 

“Ow—fuck.”

San’s already halfway out of his seat. “Seriously?” He rounds the corner. “What’d I say about being so clumsy?”

You shoot him a glare, cradling your wrist. “It’s fine. It’s barely anything.”

“Yeah, that’s how it starts,” he mutters, reaching past you to turn the heat down slightly. “Gonna end up burning down the apartment complex.”

“Don’t give me ideas, maybe I’ll do it on purpose.”

He tosses you a look over his shoulder as he takes the spatula. The sizzling oil starts to quiet, and he’s moving around like it’s nothing. You catch him glance toward the kettle, and moment later, he fills it with water and sets it to what. You notice, but don’t say anything. He’s just focused now. 

“I forgot you can actually cook,” you say, sliding next to him at the stove, reaching around to grab the salt. 

There’s a few moments of silence as he lets out a small hum and continues to work around. You take the time to grab plates, glasses, and utensils.

The kettle clicks off, and you see a mug appear on the counter beside you. You don’t think much of it at first. You rinse off the dishes from earlier while he keeps cooking, the two of you working on your tasks in silence. 

This isn’t the first time you’ve had a night like this. A week ago, you’d fallen asleep on the couch while he was playing. You hadn’t meant to, but you woke up with a blanket over your legs and your head tilted against his shoulder. He hadn’t mentioned it. Neither had you. 

Another night, you made grilled cheese, and he insisted on making tomato soup. You didn’t fight him on it. He didn’t comment when you added more seasoning than he would have. You were both just coexisting. 

You finish drying your hands and glance toward the counter. The tea is there, steam curling from the rim of the mug, almost golden tinted in the faint kitchen light. You didn’t make it. You didn’t even see what kind it was. 

You take a sip. Honey citron. 

You blink down at the cup, lips parting in surprise. It tasted as good as Seonghwa had said earlier. You assume this was from the box you found not too long ago when rummaging through the pantry for snacks. 

You don’t say anything. Not yet. But you sip again, slower this time, letting the sweetness melt on your tongue. 

“Food’s ready,” he says, plating two portions and sliding them across the counter. 

You take a seat at the kitchen island, sliding onto the left barstool as he settles beside you on the right. He’s close, his shoulder brushes yours when he shifts his plate. 

It’s not tense. Not weird. Just comfortable. 

“Pretty good,” you say after the first bite. 

San hums at your comment. “I know.”

“You’re unbearable.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

You glance over at him, smiling against your will. He’s already watching you, elbow on the counter, twirling the utensil lazily in his hand. You continue your conversation. Mostly commentary on the rice and a few other jabs at each other. 

After you eat, he stands to clear the plates and you go to help, grabbing the sponge and running the water. 

“I got it,” he says. 

You wave him off. “I’m already here.”

San lets you scrub while he dries. He doesn’t say anything when your arms bump or your elbows brush. It’s almost automatic, the way you pass the dishes off without needing to speak, the way he catches the ones you rinse before they even hit the drying rack. 

“You feeling okay?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “You’re being weirdly helpful.”

He shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You look at him a little more intently now. “You’re plotting something.”

He smirks at you. “Always.”

You finish the last dish and rinse your hands, drying them quickly. San’s still there, hovering near the sink. You place the towel down and lean against the counter beside him, not quite looking at him yet. 

“You’re not gonna mention the tea?”

San blinks. “What?”

You nod toward the mug. “The new honey citron tea.”

He shrugs again. “Ah. Didn’t think I needed to.”

You glance at him. “I mean, you bought it.”

“Yeah.”

You nod once, then look away again. It’s silent for a long beat. You think maybe that’s the end of it, that neither of you will say more. 

But then San murmurs, “You looked like you needed it.”

You freeze fingers curling around the edge of the counter. When you finally glance back up at him, he’s already looking away, reaching for the dish towel you just used to dry his hands. 

You don’t say anything else. You don’t need to.

A few seconds later, he brushes past you quietly, back to the couch, to his game. He doesn’t say another word. 

You’re still thinking about the tea. How good it is. How right Seonghwa was.

You settle on the floor with a heavy sigh, pulling your laptop and notebook in front of you just like you’ve done at least a hundred times before with this paper. The carpet is cool underneath your legs as you cross them. The blanket you’d been curled up in earlier is still bunched on the couch behind you, forgotten as you’re now fixed on sitting on the ground. Somehow, you need this, you need the distance from comfort to focus on this. To lock in.

San’s switched from his game to a show, the volume is switched down, and you can barely hear it, the subtitles flickering across the screen. He’s quiet now, settled back into the corner of the couch with a knee up, phone in hand but mostly idle. You haven’t said much since you sat down, and neither has he. It’s not awkward. Just quiet. 

You open your laptop and blink at the mostly empty page. You type a few words. Delete them. Start again. Only to tap the backspace button once more. Your notebook sits open beside you, a few ideas scribbled along the lines, but nothing’s clicking. You can feel it, the deadline is breathing down your neck, your brain shutting off the closer it gets. 

Ten, fifteen minutes pass like this. Then you sigh, a sharp exhale that deflates your chest. 

Behind you, San speaks. “Is this what academic death looks like?”

You don’t turn around, you just throw up a hand and wave him off. “Don’t start with me.”

You hear the faint smile in his tone as he hums back at you. 

You try again. A few more sentences. Another failed paragraph. And it’s all starting to swirl together. You rub at your eyes, trying to stop the frustration from welling up too fast. 

“Want help?” he offers, casually. 

You blink, then glance over your shoulder. “You?”

He raises an eyebrow, gesturing vaguely. “I’m capable of making thoughts.”

You shake your head but shift your laptop slightly so he can see the screen. “Be my guest.”

You feel the couch shift as he leans forward, bracing himself on one arm, chin hovering just behind you, scanning the screen. His proximity warms your back. 

He hums softly again, tilting his head. “Starting with a quote? I guess that’s one way to do it.”

“It’s relevant.”

“It’s pretentious,” he counters, voice dry, there’s no bite.

You elbow his leg. “Okay, professor.”

His voice quiets. He leans back again, still reading, but he stops making snide comments. And for a while, he’s just there, reading, glancing between your screen and notebook. You go still, fingers tapping nervously on your thigh. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel there’s a shift in him, it’s when you started getting more tense.  The way your posture has folded in, like you’re trying to curl away from the pressure. 

Then the blanket slips down from the couch behind you. 

You blink, startled as it drapes over your shoulder from above, it’s warm and comforting. You glance up, only to find San resettling behind you again, quieter this time. 

He folds himself back onto the couch, one leg tucked under him, the other bent up beside your right shoulder. His thigh rests close, almost too close, like it’s fixing him to the floor without quite touching you. You feel his presence radiate at your back. 

Your chest tightens. It’s a small gesture, and yet you feel your body react before your mind can catch up. Why does the blanket feel heavier now that he’s the one who put it on you? And then his hand is there still, his palm is resting over the blanket on your right shoulder. At first, it’s just the weight of it. But then his fingers start to move, tracing lazy, shapeless patterns through the thick fabric. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you. His touch is quiet and rhythmic, like he’s drawing something only he understands. 

It’s not fair. Not fair at all how much you notice him. The way his fingers trail without any purpose, the heat is seeping through despite the barrier of fabric. It’s like every inch of your skin under his hand has become a live wire. He’s not even trying and yet, it still makes your thoughts scatter. 

You don’t realize your eyes have shut until the motion stops. You blink them open, glancing up just as he reaches for something on the table to your left. Your tea. 

He passes it over without a word, and your fingers wrap around the warmth instinctively. It feels heavier now, like you’re more aware of the sensation. The tea is still warm when you take a sip. 

His hand returns to your shoulder, settling there again like it never even left.

You shouldn’t like this as much as you do. You shouldn’t feel like this. 

You exhale slowly. Your pulse has calmed, but something about the moment feels suspended in time, like the seconds have come to a halt. 

Then, just as you shift to reach for your notebook again, San leans forward slightly. His voice comes quietly, right near your ear, almost brushing against your skin. 

“You’ve got it.”

You still. 

The mug in your hand doesn't rise. Your fingers go a little slack. The words wrap around your spine like a string pulled tight. You’ve never heard him say something like that. Not like that. Not to you. Not so close. 

You don’t respond right away, and he doesn’t press for it. Instead he stays there. Warm and present. His hand stays exactly where it is, slowly moving now in small strokes along the curve of your shoulder blade. 

You close your eyes again. Just for a second. Just to feel this. 

You let yourself lean back just slightly, not enough to rest on him, not really. But enough for him to know you’re still there, still waiting. 

The door clicks open, and you barely register it at first, too absorbed in the steady rhythm of your hands as you stir something simmering on the stove. But then, the familiar voice of Seonghwa cuts through your space, drawing your attention immediately. 

“Smells good in here.”

You turn just in time to see him step inside, his smile already wide as he takes off his shoes and steps into the apartment. You’re still stirring the dish on the stove. It’s almost done, the creamy tteokbokki bubbling just right, and the dumplings sizzling in the pan. You smile as Seonghwa steps further inside, the sight of him bringing a quick surge of fondness. “Hey,” you greet, setting the spoon aside to walk over to him. The space between you is closing, and without even thinking, you pull him into a tight hug.

“Didn’t think I’d be walking into something this good,” Seonghwa chuckles, his arms wrapping around you. You chuckle, it’s easy and familiar, and you let your body relax against him. It’s been a while since you’ve had the chance to just hang out like this, and you didn’t realize how much you’d missed it until now. 

“Missed you, Hwa,” you say, pressing your cheek against his shoulder, the comfort of his just being here easing into the quiet of the evening. 

“I missed you too,” he replies easily, his voice bright, though he’s already walking toward the kitchen, the scent of dinner catching his attention. “It’s been too long.”

Seonghwa moves to the kitchen, running a hand through his hair as he glances over the counter. His eyes settle on the bubbling tteokbokki, the crispy dumplings still cracking in the pan. You step back to the stove, your fingers grazing over the edge of the pan, the warmth from the heat seeping through your fingertips. 

You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he moves around the kitchen, clearly appreciating the smells that fill the room. You return to your dish, absentmindedly reaching across the stove to grab the dirty dish you had left to clean, but before you can grab it, San’s hand catches your wrist, pulling it back gently.

“Didn’t I tell you not to do that anymore?” His voice is soft but firm, there’s concern buried in his words.

You blink, a little flustered, especially in front of Seonghwa, but laugh as you tug your wrist free from his grasp. “I’m fine, San. I wasn’t even that close.”

He narrows his eyes at you, giving a small shake of his head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re gonna end up burning yourself. You’re so clumsy.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, but smiling anyway, knowing he’s probably right. “You’re dramatic,” you tease lightly, picking up your tea and taking a sip. It's your second of the evening, just like the one he made for you earlier. You don’t acknowledge it, not aloud at least. Neither does San. But Seonghwa notices.

He’s quiet for a moment as his eyes flicker between you and San, a thoughtful look on his face, but neither of you are looking his way. His gaze shifts back to the food, breaking the brief tension. “It’s been a while since I’ve walked into this kind of domesticity,” he says, his voice light and teasing.

San doesn’t even flinch at the observation, though you do notice a subtle shift in his posture, his fingers flexing ever so slightly on the spoon in his hand as he stirs the pan. You try not to pay too much attention to the small things, how you and San have moved through the kitchen together, there’s ease in the way you anticipate his actions. It’s just comfortable. 

Seonghwa steps closer to the counter, eyes lingering for a moment longer before he grabs a glass from the cupboard. “So, what are we making?” he asks, trying to sound casual, but his gaze doesn’t stray too far from you and San.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you reply, setting the sponge down as you turn to plate the food. “You can help me set the table if you want.”

Seonghwa takes a deep breath and does as you say, moving toward the small dining area with a few plates and glasses. “Smells amazing,” he mutters, glancing toward San, who’s still focused on the stove. You can feel the small shifts between them, Seonghwa’s keeping tabs on every little thing, so it seems.

It’s easy. Too easy. But it’s also something Seonghwa has been picking up on, and you pretty much know it. The quick glances, the way you move in sync without a word. It’s something neither you nor San acknowledges. 

You finish plating the food and set it on the table, Seonghwa already filling his glass with water. There’s a quietness between the three of you as you take your seats. Seonghwa is directly across from you, and San is to your left. The conversation flows easily between you. 

“So,” Seonghwa starts, glancing between the two of you, “You guys cook together often?”

You freeze briefly, then brush it off with a light laugh. “More often than I’d like to admit.”

San chuckles, but there’s a subtle shift in the air again, something in how he doesn’t look at you when he responds, something you can’t quite place. “We get by.”

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow at the casualness, his gaze flicking down to his food. There’s no comment, not yet. 

Dinner continues, and Seonghwa tells you stories from his week, little anecdotes about classes, but you let yourself drift away from the conversation for a moment. Letting yourself feel the shift in the air, the shift you can’t quite put into words. And Seonghwa seems to catch it. 

“I gotta say,” Seonghwa finally speaks up again, his voice light but his words sharp, “You two are weirdly in sync tonight.”

You freeze for half a second, before brushing it off with a half-hearted laugh. “What does that even mean?”

San shifts in his seat, making direct eye contact with Seonghwa, and his fingers tap lightly against the table. “Nothing. Just… dinner. Relax.”

But Seonghwa’s eyes are still on you both, and you know he’s watching for something. His gaze flits back and forth. He doesn’t push it any further though. The rest of dinner passes with light banter, but there’s an awareness between him and San, even as Seonghwa continues his stories. 

As you finish, the dishes are cleared and the living room starts to invite you over. The three of you make your way over, and you flick on the television. 

The game on the screen hums softly in the background, the flickering world of your game providing a light, easy distraction. You sit on the floor, comfortably nestled between Seonghwa’s legs, the soft cushions of the couch pressed against your back. It’s one of those moments that feels effortless, and you let yourself sink into it without as much of a second thought. 

Seonghwa sits behind you, his fingers moving through your hair slowly, absently, as if it’s second nature to him. You lean back just enough to feel his warmth, letting your head lay against his knee, the soft pull of your hair as he braids a few strands, all while his eyes remain on the screen. There’s a gentle rhythm in his actions, it’s soothing, like there’s no words needed between you two. His attention is split between the game and the little affection he’s showing you, and you let yourself be. 

Occasionally, Seonghwa offers you little tips on the game, but it’s more out of habit than anything else. “Careful there,” he says lightly, his voice just a soft murmur above your head. “You’re about to fall into a hole,” he says as he tugs a little harder on your hair out of shared nerves. You chuckle, moving your character just in time, and he smiles down at you, the corners of her eyes crinkling. 

San, however, sits across from him on the couch. He’s a little more distant physically, his body leaned back against the armrest with one leg draped across the cushions. Despite his relaxed posture, there’s something about the way his eyes flicker toward you every now and again when he thinks you don’t notice. He’s quiet, absorbed in his own thoughts, but his gaze never strays too far from you. You can feel him watching, even when you aren’t looking at him directly. 

Every so often, you glance up at him. His jaw is slightly clenched, his thumb tapping against the edge of his phone, but his eyes flicker between the game on the screen and you. There’s something unreadable again, in the way his eyes meet yours for a second before darting away, and you can’t help but wonder what’s got him like this. 

You’re so caught up in the game, the banter with Seonghwa, that you don’t notice how your body gradually shifted even closer to him. At first you're just comfortable between his legs, playing the game, laughing at the graphics, but eventually you lean back further into him. It’s small, something like second nature, and you’re not sure when it happens, but now you're pressed fully against his leg. It feels like you could stay here for a while. 

But then, the silence is broken by San’s voice.

“Are you trying to make another trip to the chiropractor down there? He calls out, glancing over at you from his spot on the couch. “Remember last week when we were working on your paper? You complained for days after. There’s room on the couch, you know?”

You blink at him, caught off guard for a second. You hadn’t really thought about moving, but San nudges his leg lightly in your direction, like a subtle invitation. 

“Come on, the couch isn’t too crowded up here,” he teases, the smirk in his voice clear even though he’s not looking at you directly now. 

You chuckle, glancing up at Seonghwa for a moment. “I’m fine here,” you say, half-defensive, but there’s no real conviction behind it.

Seonghwa smiles down at you, his eyes crinkle for a moment before he lets his fingers untangle from your hair. “San’s right, there’s plenty of room with us.”

So, you don’t fight it, though part of you wishes you could ignore the way San’s voice was the pulling force at you. You push yourself upright, making space for yourself on the couch, unsure of where exactly to settle. You end up sitting between them, but noticeably closer to San. You're not sure why, but your body seems to naturally gravitate toward his cushion. You let yourself lean toward him almost unconsciously, his presence familiar more so these past few days, you don't even realize how much until your shoulder brushes against his arm.

It’s not an awkward thing, just easy. You’ve been around each other like this more and more lately, and for once, it feels a little comfortable. His warmth and the light sound of his breath next to you, it all fits around you well. There’s no second-guessing as you settle into him, letting yourself lean slightly against him as you turn yourself to face Seonghwa. 

San doesn’t say anything at first, but his body shifts slightly, his knee brushing against yours, a touch so soft it might as well be accidental. You glance up at him, and he’s still focused on Seonghwa, but now he’s more turned toward the conversation too, his body angled in a way that mirrors yours. You find your back resting against his chest now, almost without realizing how you got there. You tell yourself you’re not noticing the heat from his side, but you absolutely are. 

As you talk with Seonghwa, your attention shifts between him and San, and you don’t even realize how much you’re leaning into San now. You feel the slight shift of his weight beside you, the way his body seems to almost instinctively adjust to give you more room. His arm just barely brushing yours, you’ve already found a rhythm in your movements. Not entirely aware that your body is more pressed against his side now, the curve of your shoulder resting against his ribcage. 

His warmth feels solid, you feel… safe. You laugh softly at something Segonwha says, your head tilting back just slightly, resting against San a little, your loosely braided hair falling to one side. His breathing is steady, and you can’t help but notice the way his chest rises and falls beneath you, each exhale something you let yourself fall against. 

Seonghwa, ever the observer, catches the shift, but he doesn’t comment on it. Just a fleeting glance from him to San, before he dives back into the conversation.

As the evening is winding down. The air is now quieter, as if everyone is letting the night unfold. The lights seem to be getting darker, and the television hums in the background, but you can feel Seonghwa’s departure looming. 

Seonghwa stretches, his eyes flicking toward the door as he grabs his jacket from the back of the chair. “I should probably get going,” he says with a light yawn, brushing his hair back with his fingers. “It’s getting late, and I’ve got that early meeting tomorrow.”

You push up away from San on the couch to walk him to the door. “I enjoyed you coming over tonight, Hwa. Maybe we should have people over more often, right, San?” You say looking over at him with his back draped against the armrest of the couch.

He lets out a small hum of agreement, nodding his head up and down lazily as he shifts his attention from the television screen to the two of you at the door. 

“Of course,” Seonghwa says, adjusting his jacket. He pauses by the door, eyes flickering between you and San before settling back on you. “It’s been too long, really. I’m looking forward to next time.”

You laugh, shrugging lightly. “You know, this would have been sooner if you didn’t keep running off on me.”

Seonghwa chuckles softly at your teasing. "I can't help it, I've got a lot on my plate." He says this with a grin, clearly not bothered by the comment. As he steps closer to you, you give him a quick hug, your arms wrapping around him in a comfortable, familiar way. The moment feels warm, easy, just like it always has been with him.

"Take care of yourself, alright?" you murmur into his shoulder as you pull away.

"I will, I will," he replies, pulling back with a wink. "I’ll see you soon, Y/n.”

With one last smile, Seonghwa steps out the door, leaving you standing in the dimly lit hallway. You close the door behind him, and as you turn back to the living room, the silence falls over you.

You walk back to the couch, your footsteps soft on the carpet, and sit down again, this time closer to the middle of the cushion. His eyes are still glued to the screen, though the quiet hum of the TV doesn’t seem to hold the same weight anymore. The space between you feels quieter now, but not uncomfortable. 

You feel a small pull of curiosity tugging at you. You glance over at San, his features soft in the dim light, and then, almost on impulse, you let your mouth work faster than your head, you ask, “Were you jealous?”

San doesn’t turn to face you right away, but there’s a small shift in his posture. He tilts his head just enough for his gaze to flicker in your direction. His lips curl into him shyly, letting a small smirk, and he doesn’t miss a beat before answering, “A little.”

You don’t know why, but the short response makes your face heat. There’s something about the way he says it, as if it’s no big deal, but you know better. You roll your eyes, but there’s a softness in your smile. “You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, though your voice isn’t carrying any sort of edge. 

San chuckles under his breath, but he doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he leans back further against the armrest, as if settling into the silence between the two of you. “Just a little,” he says.

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[whimsijoy]

spencer reid saves his arachnophobic roommate from a spider in her room .•° ✿ °•.

wc: 1.2k

warnings: big phat spider, spider death (and kinda gross description of it)

a/n: hello!!! this is my first fic, ever!!!! please feel free to leave constructive criticism in my ask box 🤍. i fear that some of this may seem ooc for spencer, but…. ╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭

—

When Spencer comes home after a long, long trip at work, the last thing he expects to see is you sleeping on the couch. The main reason for this is because you have no reason to do so, unless you’ve decided to rent out the bedrooms for some extra cash.

While he understands that grad school is expensive, he didn’t think it was that expensive, and living with you for a few months has also disproved that point considering the fact that you don’t like public, or crowded places all that much. Okay, at all.

When he flicks on the light and your body on the couch is removed from the darkness that was the apartment, he can pinpoint the moment you’ve woken up, and then seemingly the reason you’ve decided to hunker down on the couch tonight. He watches your trapezius contract before you roll on to your back and stare at the ceiling with a only slightly angered look. It’s more of a squint, and a downturn of your lips.

Your eyes slide from staring at the olive green ceiling bathed in warm lighting over to the tall man standing by the loveseat. You force yourself up only a little too fast, your hands are quick to rub the half-sleep from your eyes.

“Hey.” You say shortly, but with no heat behind it. Almost like a huff of air became kind.

“Hello.” He returns, somehow softer. You figure it must be Jet-lag, or something of the sort. Flying for 6 hours straight could not have been fun, even if it is a private jet.

You finally finish rubbing at your eyes before making some kind of eye contact with him. You offer him a softer smile before your gaze shifts, then spaces out like you’ve just watched something horrible. You start absentmindedly cracking your back, your neck, then to your knuckles, and—

“Why’d you sleep out here tonight?” You hear from your place on the couch, an albeit cute, but scratchy throw blanket pooling at your hips and stretching down over your feet.

You take a second to come to your senses before stopping your motions, and interlocking your fingers to place on to your lap. You remember why, and your heart rate picks up just a smidge.

“Uhm…” You say, plastering a soft smile but not breaking your spaced gaze until after you probably should. You can’t tell if what you’re about to say is silly or pitiful. You figure it’s both, considering who you’re about to tell. A man who’s entire job pertains to death and figuring murderers out by just looking.

“There was a spider in my room.” You say under your breath as the soft part on your palm cradles the bump of your chin delicately. Your pinky finger just barely grazes your bottom lip as you look up and away from him.

There’s a formidable silence as your lips press into a thin line and your hand goes to the side of your neck, a self soothing thing if there ever was one.

Spencer, sensing your disquiet pipes up quickly as his hand goes to rest at the back of his neck.

“Arachnophobia, you know, being afraid of spiders—” You shudder only slightly at the word. You’ll blame the rickety furnace. “—Isn’t all that uncommon. Actually, it’s more present in females.”

“The more you know.” You mumble into the trembling hands cupping your cheeks. You try to crack your knuckles again but there hasn’t been enough time for more fluid to build up. You take a deep breath when you think of the size of that thing.

“Do you want me to go and.. take care of it?” He asks simultaneously while pulling off his dress shoe.

“Please.” You say nearly immediately. Any sooner and you would have cut him off.

You watch him round the corner, grab a paper towel off the roll, then open your bedroom door. You feel eternally grateful to your past self for keeping it fairly tidy. It’s likely that your bed is unmade and your shoes aren’t against the wall, but all of your weekly laundry is contained to its basket, and there’s not a lot of spaces the spider could have burrowed.

You hear a loud Thwack, mixed with a sickening crunch come from the wall that adjoins your bedroom to the kitchen. You feel a shiver build near your teeth before it ripples through your skin, your muscle, down to your knees.

You watch with wide eyes as he carries the crumpled up tissue out of your bedroom and towards the trash. You’d ask to confirm the death yourself if you didn’t think that it would make you sick. He shows you his empty hands and gives you a thin lipped smile, and you feel guilty so you return a wider one.

“That thing was huge, right?” You ask him, just to confirm your worries. You want to make sure that it wasn’t just the amount of pure adrenaline making it seem gargantuan.

“I mean, Y-Yeah— Usually the spiders that you would find in a home tend to be less than a quarter of an inch. That was probably some kind of giant house spider. That one looked to be about 4 inches wide, and the hair supports that too.” He says. You watch his gaze move from your eyes to the edge of the coffee table, and then eventually towards the ceiling, but not with any real focus to it. He’s just thinking as he talks, you figure.

Once his ramble is done he looks more down to you, and the fact that you look like you’ve just had an even worse time. You look nearly ill, and you quite feel it too. You can tell that he feels slightly guilty about the spider rant, considering. You would love to beg him to stay quiet, but he’s already opened his mouth.

“Also, the statistic that the average person eats 8 spiders a year in their sleep is completely untrue. If you sleep with your mouth closed, then there’s realistically no way for one to get in. Plus, if you sleep with your mouth open, your body would have to sense that there is something blocking your airways, not to mention the path of travel—”

“Spencer.” You said softly. “You just flew for what, 6 hours? How do you speak so many words? Jet-lag?” You ask him as kindly as you can when you brush hair away from your face.

All he does in response is let his body slink on to the couch, his back to the cushions as he kicks his mismatched sock clad feet rest on the coffee table in front of him. “Goodnight,” He says simply. You’d probably feel worse about essentially shutting him up, but you're so tired yourself. You match his position, throw the majority of the throw blanket on him.

Neither of you say anything when you find your head resting on his shoulder. Neither of you say anything about the abhorrent aches you’ll wake up with from sleeping in this position. You’re too tired for that. All you can do now is assure yourself that no spiders will crawl in your mouth when you sleep. Spencer already did that part.

[earlysunshines]

watch me take my time 

park jihyo x fem!reader ; fluff, smut ; read tutor perks first! this is pt. 2

synopsis: surprising the woman you're dating with tea and pastries turns into a steamy evening, and a more sentimental morning after

warnings: mommy kink ; jihyo receving, reader giving ; jihyo in control for the most part ; smut! ; smut :3 ; and smut ; cursing ; fucking on the couch!!! ; face riding ; yeaahh anything else i didn’t mention ; not proofread, as always lol 

a/n: hey! i wasn't sure what to do for a part two, i never know. i didn't really expect tutor perks to get THAT much attention. anyway, I just went with whatever I felt like, i hope you guys like it. lmk what you think!

the parking garage was quite mesmerizing, adorned with lush greenery and meticulously planned layouts. it was a stark contrast to the parking spot on campus that was a fifteen-minute walk from the main campus. compared to the $225 spot at your university, this was undeniably better.  

“is this the right place?” sarah, your roommate, asks. “because if it is... you coined a whole sugar mommy.” 

“oh shut up.” you say, blushing. sarah laughs at you, then gives you a little hug. 

“whatever, get out my car. i have to go see my girlfriend.” sarah says jokingly, to which you respond with a roll of your eyes.  

“yeah yeah, see you, love you, bye.” you mutter before getting out the car and shutting the door, watching sarah wave at you teasingly. 

walking towards the actual building — littered with plants and the beauty of the exterior catching you off guard — just the sight of it was enough to make you nervous. still, you manage to open the door and step in, feeling intimidated almost immediately just from seeing everyone inside the lobby. 

the corporate image time ten was right in front of you: men in suits tailored to perfection exuded an air of confidence as they made way through the bustling lobby, their attention divided between important phone calls and firm handshakes with other mirror images of themselves. meanwhile, women clad in sleek blazers formed clusters, their conversations punctuated by polite laughter and the occasional sip of coffee.  

it was safe to assume that you didn’t really fit in, you couldn’t help but feel like a fish out of water in the moment. so, while clutching a bag of pastries and a cup of iced tea from your shift at work, you made a conscious effort to blend into the background as you walked up to the lady behind the desk up front. thankfully, that wasn’t too hard given everyone had been occupied with their own things. 

the lady, a shorter looking woman with hair tied up professionally, looked at you unamusingly. she raised a brow as you looked at her, putting a finger up to pause you in place since she looked like she was preoccupied with a phone call.   

you balanced the small brown bag of pastries and iced tea in one hand, then moved over to fix the tote bag on your shoulder. the lady finished her call, then turned to you and spoke in a monotoned, uninterested tone. 

“hi, how can i help you?” 

“hi, um, is jihyo here? she’s still working, right?” 

“and who are you?” she asks, looking offended that you even asked that question.  

taken aback, you grow a little bashful and respond, “y/n l/n, i'm a...” you clear your throat, “friend of hers. she said if i wanted to stop by, now would be a good time.” 

“yeah, alright. you expect me to believe you that miss park said you could stop by?” 

“excuse me?” you say, immediately feeling belittled by her tone and look at you. “what do you mean by me? is there something wrong?” 

the lady lets out a noise thats a mix of a laugh and a scoff. she sighs, looking down at her desk and pointing down at a paper before responding.  

“miss park is a very busy woman, you know that, right? i have to make sure that this is an urgent thing, otherwise, you can see yourself out the door.” 

the condescending tone in the desk lady's voice grates on your nerves, sparking irritation within you. you resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead fixing her with a steely gaze as you suppress the retort bubbling up inside you. 

"i get that jihyo is busy, seriously," you reply evenly, your frustration simmering beneath the surface. "i'll call her right now if you need confirmation. i have her number and everything. she even texted me—" 

"she what?" the desk lady interrupts, her expression shifting from dismissive to incredulous. "you-- you have her personal number?" 

"of course i do, it's jihyo we're talking about," you respond matter-of-factly, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the surprise evident in the woman's reaction. 

"i didn't think—wow," the desk lady stammers, clearly caught off guard. she clears her throat, attempting to regain her composure. "miss park doesn’t give anyone here her personal number. s-sorry, i'm a bit taken aback. i'll have someone escort you. i'm sorry for the inconvenience, miss—" 

"it's y/n," you interject, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the sudden shift in demeanor from the desk lady. it's almost amusing how quickly she seems to have changed her tune, now treating you with an unexpected level of deference.  

the desk lady nods and begins making arrangements for your escort, you can't help but feel a sense of validation at the realization of just how highly regarded jihyo must be. the fact that you have her personal number suddenly feels like some sort of badge of honor, you must be lucky to just know her or interact with her casually—especially in bed, that must be better than any trophy or award. maybe even better than a grammy or something. 

a tall, frail older man is by your side in the next minute. before you leave, the lady smiles at you – maybe a little forced given the unnatrual expression – then picks up the phone again, seemingly dialing a number. 

the man leads you to an elevator and presses the second to last button, indicating the 11th floor. as the elevator ascends, you stand beside him, taking note of his impeccable posture and the condition of his suit. not a single crease in the fabric, he had to be some kind of perfectionist.  

when the elevator doors slide open on the 11th floor, the man steps aside and gestures for you to exit first. his actions are formal, almost ceremonial, and you can't help but feel a sense of significance in the gesture. despite being just a girl who's clocked off work, you find yourself appreciating the unexpected treatment. you’re not against any of this treatment, however. 

once you step out of the elevator, the man gestures for you to follow him down the corridor. as you walk, you can't help but be captivated by your surroundings. the corridor is lined with large windows that offer expansive views of the city, bathing the space in natural light and providing a breathtaking backdrop as you continue through the building.  

the floor itself is decorated with tasteful elegance, oozing an air of professionalism and refinement. everything is thoroughly arranged, from the sleek furniture to the artful accents that adorn the walls. it's a space that balances functionality and cliche professionalism with an aesthetic appeal, creating an atmosphere that feels both welcoming and authoritative. if this is just one of the floors, you can’t even imagine how wonderful the rest of the building is. maybe jihyo will get to show it to you sometime. 

passing by the employees that type away or take calls, he leads you to a room that has large windows, displaying the blinds that block whatever – or whoever – is inside. a sign is plastered on it that says park jihyo, indicating that this is right where you wanted to be. 

he knocks on the door three times – somehow sophisticated and professional – then says in his deep voice,  

“miss park, i'm sorry to interrupt. you have a visitor.” 

silence takes over for a bit before the door is opened, revealing a tired looking jihyo in her blazer and slacks. she doesn’t see you at first, sending daggers at the man covering you before saying in a stern tone, 

"chang, you know i'm busy with emails—" jihyo begins, her voice trailing off as she catches sight of you standing in the doorway. immediately, her demeanor softens, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. 

clearing her throat, she regains her composure and gestures for you to enter her office. "ah, y/n, come in," she says, her voice warm and welcoming. turning to the man, chang, she nods in appreciation. "chang, you're dismissed. thank you for escorting her." 

chang nods respectfully and takes his leave, leaving you alone with jihyo in her office. as the door closes behind him. jihyo wastes no time in closing the distance between you as soon as the coast is clear. 

her hand finds its way to the nape of your neck, pulling you close with a gentle yet firm touch. you feel a rush of warmth as her lips meet yours in a soft, tender kiss. her smile is evident even in the midst of the kiss, and you can't help but mirror her expression, returning the affection with the curve of your own lips. 

you pull away, lips inches apart. jihyo smiles at you sweetly. 

“what are you doing here?” 

“you said you would be relatively free, i just got off work. i got you something to eat, figured you’d be hungry and... i wanted to see you.” 

it's been almost three months since your first – very intimate – night with jihyo. the two of you continue to see each other, both intimately and regularly. dating jihyo has been pretty nice, though both of you have times where you don’t have time to see each other, so it’s nice to have moments like these. 

as the weeks turn into almost three months, your relationship with jihyo continues to evolve. jihyo asked you out on proper dates, rather than her eating you out, she wanted to eat something else and get to know you better.  

despite the demands of your respective schedules, the two of you make a concerted effort to see each other as often as possible. whether it's her inviting you over when her nephew isn’t around to evenings spent curled up together on the couch or having wine and a conversation. every moment shared with jihyo was precious 

dating jihyo has brought a sense of joy into your life, a feeling of being understood and cherished in a way that you've never experienced before, none of your high school relationships made you feel this way. and while there are times when conflicting schedules and obligations pulled you apart, those moments only serve to make the time you spend together even more precious. 

“you’re so sweet honey, come, sit.” jihyo says thankfully, guiding you to the large couch that gives you an even better view of the city. 

you sit next to her and place the goods on the table, then immediately. she rests her head against your shoulder. a smile plays across your lips, and slight worry seeps into your skin. jihyo must be tired, judging from how limp she is against you, so you grab her hands and hold them gently, rubbing her knuckles and letting her relax a bit. 

as you sit down next to jihyo and place the goods on the table, you can't help but notice the fatigue etched into her features. she leans her head against your shoulder, a smile plays across your lips as you feel her weight against you, but a slight twinge of worry creeps into your heart. jihyo must be exhausted, judging from how limp she is against you. without a word, you reach out and gently take her hands in yours, intertwining your fingers with hers. 

you begin to rub her knuckles soothingly, hoping to ease some of the tension that seems to have taken hold of her. her fingers are a little bonier, hands noticeably more mature given the slight age gap between the two of you. a ring is around the base of her middle finger, something expensive looking with a small apricot-colored gem in it. in the warmth of your touch seems to relax her, and you can feel the tension slowly melting away as she leans into your embrace.  

“you seem drained, was work exhausting?” you ask, turning to face her. 

“just some really incompetent men and everything has been getting on my nerves. lots of deadlines that need to be met and some of my employees have been slacking.” jihyo sighs, “things are getting better, though. i made some... arrangements that should have things back in order.” 

“i see.” you say, playing with her fingers. you press a kiss to the top of her head and reach for the iced tea, moving the straw to her mouth. “this should give you some energy, it’s the house tea, something peachy and sweet.” 

“aw, you’re too kind, doll.” she says, pouting her lower lip before taking a sip. she takes a few more sips before grabbing the drink from your hand and setting it down on the table, then pecks your lips. “you’re seriously a gift, darling.” 

almost three months and her little petnames still make your heart race, you don’t know if you’ll ever get used to them. 

“sweetheart, if it’s not too much, could you massage my upper back? there's a lot of tension, god, it’s killing me.” 

“of course.” 

jihyo turns away from you so that her back faces you, and you place your hands on her tense shoulders. squeezing lightly to get her accustomed, she immediately relaxes into your touch, sighing as you massage her. she moves her head down so you can reach more of the stiff areas, and once your thumbs add more pressure, she lets out a louder sigh, more of a groan that makes you giggle, and leaving some room for imagination to other ways that can make her sound like that. 

as jihyo turns away, her back facing you, you instinctively place your hands on her tense shoulders. with gentle pressure, you begin to massage her muscles, hoping to provide some relief from the tension that has accumulated there from whatever she’s been up to all day. 

at first, jihyo tenses slightly at your touch, but as you continue to knead her shoulders, she gradually relaxes into your hands. a soft sigh escapes her lips as she leans into your touch, allowing you better access to the stiff areas of her muscles. 

you adjust your position slightly, moving your hands to target the areas of greatest tension. with firm yet gentle pressure, you work your thumbs into the knots, eliciting a deeper sigh from jihyo's lips. the sound is more of a groan, and it sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a playful giggle. 

“good?” 

“ah- great.” she says through gritted teeth. she moves her hair over to once side, then asks, “can you get this side for me?” to which you respond with a hum. 

as you continue to massage her shoulders, you can't help but let your mind wander, imagining other ways to draw out this genre of sounds from her. but for now, you're content to focus on the task at hand, providing jihyo with the comfort and relaxation she so desperately needs. and as you feel her muscles begin to loosen beneath your touch, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you're able to provide her with some relief.  

however, this doesn’t necessarily mean that your mind is completely free of other intimate scenarios. 

jihyo gets a little louder, failing to suppress the groans that slip past her lips. your hands slow down, instead, you start to slide your hands down her back and around her waist, gently placing them on the sides. leaning closer, you place a chaste kiss on the skin that isn’t covered by her hair, smirking into her. 

“what are you doing honey?” she asks softly, turning her head just barely to catch you in her peripheral.  

instead of responding verbally, you press longer, lingering kisses along jihyo's neck. with each gentle caress of your lips, she begins to relax further, her body responding to the intimacy of your affection. 

sensing her movement, you feel her hand come to rest lightly on your head, her fingers tangling softly in your hair. the sensation sends a shiver down your spine, a warmth spreads throughout your body as you continue to place kisses along her neck. 

slowly, almost imperceptibly, jihyo begins to turn toward you, her movements guided by the gentle coaxing of your lips against her skin. as she shifts, her hand remains on your head, the gentle pressure of her touch grounding you in the moment. with each kiss, you feel the tension melting away from jihyo's body. 

finally, when she’s turned towards you, you catch her lips with your own. jihyo hums into the kiss, her hand moving from your head to the base of your neck, then to your shoulder. 

you pull away briefly to mutter, “feeling better?” to which jihyo responds by pulling you in by the hem of your jacket, closing the distance again. 

as the kisses between you and jihyo grow soft and slow, a familiar heat begins to build between you. your tongues meet again, this wouldn’t be the first time for sure. 

feeling a surge of need coursing through you, you subtly shift your position, guiding jihyo down until she's reclining on the couch. with a smooth, fluid motion, you position yourself on top of her, your body pressing against hers, heat radiating off the two of you. 

in this moment, you find yourself taking control – in contrast to how it usually goes. as you deepen the kiss, your hands roam freely over jihyo's body, tracing the curves of her figure before sliding your hands under the edge of her shirt. she gasps at the feeling of your fingers on her skin, leaving you to kiss the corner of her mouth and trail down. 

with jihyo beneath you, her body yielding to your touch as you trail kisses down to her neck, you feel a sense of power and satisfaction wash over. you nip gently at her neck – careful not to make any noticeable marks – while she claws at your clothing. 

“baby-- darling, god,” she groans as you nip at the right spot with your teeth. she lets you indulge for a few minutes more, clearly enjoying it as much as you do before halting your actions as you slide your hands up closer to her chest under her shirt. 

you pause, pulling away and looking at her with confusion, “sorry, too much?” 

“never too much,” jihyo assures, placing a hand on your cheek while she catches her breath. “my employees are outside.” 

your eyes widen, then you get the message and mutter, “oh.” 

jihyo giggles at your response before lifting her head up to kiss you deeply again, pulling away with a noticeable sound made from your lips parting. “you’re adorable.” she says before grabbing your phone out your pocket and checking the time briefly. “my nephew isn’t home, so how about we get situated at my place? i should’ve left the office thirty minutes ago.” 

“anything you’d like.” 

- 

with jihyo’s purse in your hand, you follow her into the house. the lights are off and it’s clear that no one’s home, leaving many possible opportunities for the two of you and even more scenarios to run through your head.  

“have you had dinner? and don’t say you’ve had those pastries, that’s not enough darling.” jihyo says lightheartedly, though stern enough to let you know she’s serious. she places her purse on the counter and takes off her blazer, which reveals the shirt hugging her figure neatly. she's looking through the purse now, back faced you and you can’t help but check her out briefly. “if not, i'll order takeout.” 

“that’s perfect.” you respond. jihyo turns towards you and grins, walking over and pecking your lips. 

“yeah, i'll grab us some wine. order anything you’d like, love.” 

“i’ve been craving bento bowls, is something japanese fine?” 

“anything is fine, i'm starving even after that scone.” jihyo giggles, “also, it’s almost six. i have a little work call to answer, but after that we have the rest of tonight and the weekend if you’re not occupied with classes.” 

“perfect, i'll just order for pick up then and then i'll be back in time for us to eat and whatnot. sound okay?”    “that’s lovely, then i'll have to find my favorite wine for us. the best for the best.” 

you giggle before pressing your lips against hers again, pulling away just barely before she closes the distance again. her arms rest on her shoulders as she pushes you closer, then she deepens the kiss. 

without thinking, you move yourselves over so that jihyo’s against the counter, your hands sliding under her shirt yet again and lips sliding down to the soft skin on her neck. she groans at the feeling, tilting her head back to give you more access to her as she tightens her hold on your shoulder. 

“later tonight,” you mutter in between kisses, rubbing circles on her skin under her shirt. “let me help you relax, yeah?” you nip at her skin lightly and she lets out a sharp breath, hand moving to the side of your neck. “let me do the work this time, you deserve to sit back for once.” 

“y/n--” jihyo begins, but is cut off by the sound of a phone ringing against the counter. she groans in frustration; this is the angriest you’ve seen her. her brows furrow and she tenses her jaw as she picks up the phone, then looks at you apologetically. 

“you should take that.” 

 jihyo sighs, then kisses your nose. “you should order dinner.” 

“mhm.” you mumble before kissing her jawline, removing your hands from under her shirt and jihyo whines just barely. her skin seems colder now that your hands aren’t on them, tracing patterns and rubbing up and down the landmarks.  

- 

jihyo gave you the keys before you had left, so you didn’t have to ring the doorbell or anything – you assumed she’d still be on that work call. 

as you enter the room, you find jihyo standing against the counter, her posture tense and her expression drawn with frustration. she's wearing something different: a cropped t-shirt and comfy sweatpants instead of her work attire. with one hand, she pinches the bridge of her nose, while the other holds a phone to her ear. she listens intently, her brow furrowed in concentration, as she navigates the seemingly irritating conversation on the other end of the line. 

one arm crosses defensively while her gaze remains fixed on some distant point on the wood floor. to her left, on the smooth marble countertop, you notice two glasses and an unopened bottle of white wine.  

“yes, i already have my employees on it.” you hear her say, tone stern yet level. “look, according to the results and feedback we’re doing fine, so i don’t understand why this meeting is still in session. i know you want to be secure, but doubting me won’t secure what’s already set. everything is fine, so go talk to samuel if you really want to bicker with someone who can’t do their job. he's been slacking with his unit; i've seen the data. goodbye.” 

a small “ugh” is muttered under her breath before she places the phone down, then looks over to see you standing in the entrance of the hallway. a smile tugs at her lips immediately upon seeing you. 

“two teriyaki salmon bentos for the struggling college student and her beautiful, older, hardworking, hot older woman.” 

jihyo snickers, laughing at your stupid little titles. “calling me old?” 

“well maybe... i’m into that though, so stay old.” 

jihyo rolls her eyes at you, then watches you pull out the to go bowls out onto the table nearby. she walks over herself and brings the glasses and the wine bottle over. before she takes out the cork with her tool, she places a kiss on your cheek and mumbles against you a soft, “thank you.”  

you grin and kiss her back before going back to the kitchen to grab utensils, and then back to the table to sit down next to your lover. 

grabbing the boxes and handing jihyo a spoon, you ask, “how was your day? work seemed rough.” 

a sigh leaves her lips, her aura radiating exhaustion and irriation, yet she stays calm and content before your eyes.   

“just a lot of deadlines and dreadful people to deal with today, but it’s over and you made me feel better.” 

“i’m glad.” you say, putting a hand on her thigh. “let’s eat, maybe you’ll be less exhausted.” to which jihyo responds with a nod and a kiss to your knuckles.  

the sliding door in front of you two gave a great view of the setting sun, which made dinner quite romantic. jihyo shared more about her day, though it was mostly complaints mixed with frustrated grunts and groans when bringing up the men she had to face. you on the other hand, shared some small anecdotes from your shift and your roommate's own drama to jihyo, which she enjoyed listening to. before you knew it, dinner was finished – bowls clean and all, barely any remnants of the food left – which urged you two to throw away the plastic containers and head to the couch to sit and sip on wine. 

jihyo sat beside you and swirled her wine around before sniffing, then took a small sip. you did the same, eyes lighting up from how good it was, which made jihyo laugh. and then the two of you went on to talk about more small things, ranging from what annoyed each of you during the day and things you both looked forward to.  

the next thing you knew, your head was against jihyo’s shoulder, and your now empty glass was set on the table with hers.  

“at least the day is over, hyo.” 

she snickers upon hearing the name, then turns to you with a smile.  

“hyo?” 

“sorry, don’t like that name?” 

“no, i love it. it's cute.” she assures, “adorable.” 

“yeah?” you say, grinning. shifting yourself up to sit up right, you brush a strand of hair behind jihyo’s ear. “any plans tomorrow?” you ask, staring at her lips blatantly. 

“no, what are you up to darling?” 

you giggle and run your hand down to her jaw, placing your thumb on her lip and applying subtle pressure. 

“let me help you relax tonight.” you simply answer, smirking devilishly. “seems like you need it.” 

in no time, your lips make their way over to hers, you kiss her slowly and savor her. she places her hand on your shoulder, gripping slightly as you deepen the kiss.  

your hands find their way under jihyo’s shirt again in no time, though at first, your fingers simply brush against her skin before doing anything big. you're taking your time exploring her, finding out which area on her rib makes her kiss sloppier or her breath shorter. you feel her responding to your touch, her movements becoming more urgent, more fervent. 

jihyo's hands roam over your body in tandem with your own explorations, one hand in your hair and the other on the base of your wrist. you're both consumed by the heat of the moment, kisses with more tongue, breaths heavier, and jihyo’s groans getting louder. it's perfect. 

you create a gap between the two of you after pulling away, your own breath heavy. jihyo looks at you: red, puffy lips and peach colored cheeks from the intimacy.  

looking down at the edge of jihyo’s shirt, you silently ask to take it off by playing with the edge of the fabric. 

“take it off.” she says lowly, almost an order. 

nodding, you slip the shirt off, gazing at her clad chest. 

you've seen her naked before – more than you can count on one hand – yet, she still manages to leave you in awe.  

“fuck, you’re beautiful.” you sigh, immediately making your way over to her neck. “i could have you like this all day.” you groan against her skin, right before sucking near her pulse point so harshly to the point where she moans your name out, subconsciously gripping your hair and tugging so roughly it hurts your scalp.  

blindly, you start to unclasp her bra, discarding it somewhere in the room – you could care less where it landed – and tending to the new area exposed. 

a brush of your finger on her nipple already has it perked up, making her groan loudly. saying it’s music to your ears would be an understatement, it’s better than any symphony. 

“y/n, baby,” jihyo moans, feeling a wetness pooling down in between her legs. “ah-”   

your mouth lands on her chest, then down to her tits. you press a chaste kiss to her tits, making her look down at you with furrowed brows and parted lips. with full eye contact, you travel to the swell of her breast, finding your way to her nipple and swirling your tongue around. the way you suck on her sensitivity is enough to make her groan right in front of your face. the way her mouth gapes and oh, how lovely she sounds; you could get used to this for sure.  

and later you pay attention to her other breast, treating it with the same care and evoking more lewd sounds from the older woman. the way she folds under your touch, twitching and slowly losing herself while she’s weak to you; jihyo could use more rest days, especially ones that have hours dedicated to you indulging in her. 

moments later, after earning at least a song’s duration of jihyo’s indescribable pleasure seeping from her lips, you decide to look at the mess you’ve made.  

marks of pink ranging to a darker red – even a near purple – are littered all over her skin, from her neck to all over her chest area. you bite your lip at the sight, rubbing your finger along a few of the hickeys. 

“y/n, baby,” jihyo starts, looking at you intensely. “shirt off, down on the couch now. don't make me ask twice.” she orders breathlessly, narrowing her eyes and expecting immediate obedience – which she receives without question. 

despite how much you’ve riled up and left her, she still has that natural authority. there's absolutely no way you could disobey her, at the end of the day, no matter what you’ve done to her; you belong to jihyo now, no doubt. 

“yes ma’am.”   

as you slip the shirt off in one motion, jihyo uses that short duration of time to slip off her comfortable pants, discarding them and slipping her panties off. she watches you – who's watching her in return – you're propped up by your elbows as you watch her sit on your lap, feeling your pussy throb just from the feeling of her bare cunt on the denim covering your heat. 

“good girl, always. you know how to listen to me, glad you know your place.” 

“of course.” you say, looking at her with desperate eyes. 

“you know how i've told you about today, yeah? it was so difficult, so many incompetent people. you’re going to listen to me, okay? you're gonna let mommy use you just like the good girl you are, got it?” 

taken aback by the new title, you hesitate to respond, too entranced by the sight in front of you: jihyo completely naked, on your nap, with her hands resting on your abdomen to hold herself up. when she doesn’t get a response from you, she grinds harshly against your lap, earning a pathetic whine from you. 

she presses her hand down on your abdomen harder, earning a sharp breath from your lips. 

“you answer me when i talk to you, i won’t say this again.” 

“y-yes, sorry.” 

she leans closer, her face above yours and gaze sharp. “yes who?” 

with no hesitation, you correct yourself. “yes mommy, i'm sorry, i'll be a good girl from now on.” 

jihyo smiles, pleased to say the least. 

“down on the couch then honey, on your back.” she says gently, though there’s still that stern tone.  

you gulp, then nod. jihyo smiles as you set your head down, putting your arms off to the side so your hands can gently caress her thighs. she gets up on her knees, repositioning herself so that her cunt is hovering above your chin, then stroking your cheek lightly. you look at her with puppy eyes, silently begging for her to let you get a taste; she gets the message almost immediately, then sets her cunt right above your mouth. 

your hands reach for the sides of her waist, moving her down just an inch so you can get a taste of her arousal.  

she groans again, throwing her head back before looking back at you with creased brows: your cheeks are red, your eyes are closed, and you’re humming against her while you eat her out ravenously. the last time you had eaten someone out had been a while ago, and jihyo’s been the one fucking you to oblivion since the first night with her. you're following her body, sliding your tongue up her folds and sucking on her clit once you reach. she gasps and grips your hair the way you like it, rough and demanding. her nails dig into your scalp, and you let out a little moan yourself, turned on just as much as you are when she’s doing everything to you. 

attentive to the sounds she’s making, you keep doing what earns the more pleasing reactions. she's griding against the flat of your tongue, forcibly pushing your mouth into her wetness the more you indulge. she's moaning louder, her deep, mature voice growing breathy and higher pitched the more you please her.  

and then she shifts your lips over to the left side of her clit, so you suck and lick and groan until the living room is filled with the sound of squelches of her pussy and your mouth coming into contact mixed with moans that fade into nothing as they’re caught in throats. jihyo's cursing more and more, holding you in one spot with that one hand gripping onto your hair like there’s no tomorrow whilst she grinds herself on your tongue and completely uses you. 

“y/n, y/n darling, honey, fuck, ah-!” she cries out, shaking until she isn’t, propping herself up with one hand on your hip bone and the other loosening her grip on your now disheveled hair. she grinds slowly now, still stimulating the aching between her legs whilst you clean up all her climax with your tongue.  

slowly, you take your time licking up her folds, savoring her. a press to her clit later and you're pressing more on her inner thigh until she shifts herself off your face and back to your lap.  

she runs a hand through her hair – some strands sticking to her forehead.  

you catch your breath, then sit up a little bit, jihyo still in your lap.  

“feeling better?” you ask, your hand settling on her explosed ribcage before moving up to cup the bottom of her tit.  

“much better.” she grins, fixing the hair she’s ruined. strands fall over your face, she runs a few fingers through to fix it up again.  

laughing, you lean closer to press a kiss to her lips, smirking once you part away. 

“y/n,” jihyo begins, twirling a piece of hair with her fingers. “you’ll be a good girl, right?” 

you nod. 

“good, because the night isn’t over.” she says menacingly, looking at you with darkened pupils. “on the ground, on your knees. you're gonna eat mommy out until she’s satisfied, got it?” 

“yes ma’am, yes mommy.” you say, immediately switching positions.  

jihyo watches you move over to the ground, the visible patch of arousal apparent on your denim as you kneel. she traces down the grooves of your torso, indulging in the sight before sitting back and spreading her legs.  

seeing her like this, you lick your lips. you're like an obedient puppy, eager to receive her approval and eager to serve her in any way she sees fit. 

jihyo raises her brows at the sight and smiles devilishly at how pathetic you look. she gives you the green light after relishing your submission.  

“eat.” 

- 

just like every other morning, you’re stuck in jihyo’s bed half naked. some sports bra covers the upper half of your body, and boy shorts hug the skin just below your waist. the older woman’s hands are wrapped around your waist, one hand sitting on the exposed hip bone that pops out, and she’s warm against you, her chest rising and falling against your back. 

shifting subtly in your place, you turn over to face her.  

her face is bare, no makeup on and it’s just jihyo before you. she's rubbing her hands on the exposed skin on your hip, mumbling something groggily under her breath. it's been a while since you’ve seen her like this – it's been a bit since you’ve been alone with her, really alone, just the two of you and no one else or worry of interruption. 

“mm, honey,” jihyo mumbles, and you can’t tell if she’s awake or asleep while saying this. “closer.” 

“okay.” 

you find your nose in the crook of her neck, smelling faint hints of lavender while you press closing. she rubs your shoulder with her thumb, tracing patterns and shapes you can’t really put a name on. the sun hits her eyes, you hear a little groan, and then a little yawn that gives you the hint that she’s fully awake. 

a hand finds itself tangled in your hair, then massages your scalp. “did you sleep alright?” jihyo asks, voice gentle and caring as she holds you. 

“i slept great, you?” 

“wonderfully.”  

a kiss is pressed to your forehead and fingers play with the rim of your boy shorts. a soft smile plays across your face, you close your eyes and breathe out. 

“sweetheart.” jihyo hums, tapping your shoulder.  

“hm?” 

“i realized i've never really, fully expressed how thankful i am for you.”  

upon hearing jihyo’s sentimental words, you pull away from where your face had been nestled, face to face with jihyo now. 

“what?” 

“i haven’t been that, well--” jihyo’s face flushes – to oyur surprise – she looks down at your clad chest, then back at your eyes. “relaxed. you helped me unwind, thank you.” 

you can’t help but giggle, finidng all of this so cute. jihyo had been ordering you around last night, moaning so loud the neighbors probably heard. you can still feel a little ache in your scalp from how roughly she was pulling at your hair; everything about the night before was so lewd. it's funny how vulnerable and cute jihyo’s being right now, letting her heart do the talking. 

“you’re adorable, hyo.” you sigh, looking at her with admiration. “i’m glad i was there to help, and i'm looking forward to helping out whenever you want.” 

“y/n.” jihyo begins, placing her hand on your cheek and looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. “will you be my girlfriend?” 

giggling again upon hearing the seriousness in her voice and the adorable look on her face, you nod. 

“of course.” 

- 

- 

at the end of the weekend – a beautiful sunday evening, the sky painted hues of pink and purple – you’re in your desginated spot: the passenger’s side of jihyo’s car. 

both of you sit in silence as jihyo exits the freeway, some pop song playing on the radio. her hand is intertwined with yours, elbows sitting on the little compartment that seperates the two seats. she's humming along and it’s music to your ears, you’re smiling ear to ear as you watch her. 

sunglasses sit on the crown of her head, her side profile staying in its place while the scenery behind her flashes by as the car moves forward. she's beautiful. 

once you reach your apartment complex, jihyo parks somewhere close.  

“don’t move, just stay there.” you warn her, sounding all serious and looking at her with raised brows. 

“darling, what?” she asks, a little smile tugging at the corner of her lips. she giggles once you leave the car hurriedly, rushing towards the other side to open her door. 

“miss park.” you say, putting your hand out. jihyo laughs, amused at your little gesture. she takes your hand and steps out, rolling her eyes at you. 

“you’re unbelieveable.” 

“well, after seeing how scared everyone was at your work place the other day, i feel like i should treat you better.” 

“you’re my girlfriend, not my employee y/n.” jihyo scoffs, then kisses the back of your hand.  

once you make it to your apartment, you knock on the door, waiting for the familiar face to open the door for you.  

sarah opens the door a few seconds later, eyes widnening upon seeing you and jihyo right in front of her – hands holding and all.  

“oh my god you really did manage to get with her.” sarah says in disbelief, making you roll oyur eyes and the little comment making jihyo snicker. “you’re jihyo? wow, oh my god, you look so young – i mean, you are, like--” 

“i get what you mean, thank you.” jihyo responds lightheartedly, smiling at the woman in front of her.  

the two of you step in and sarah is still examining jihyo, baffled by how unreal she looks – and wow, your descriptions and rambles about this woman did not prepare her for this meeting. jihyo sets herself down on the couch and sarah pulls you to the side quickly before the two of you join her. 

“oh my god when you said older woman i didn’t expect godly cheekbones, jawline sharper than a knife, and fucking luxury to show up holding your hand.” 

“she’s amazing.” 

“ugh, you’re drooling.” sarah sighs. 

you smile at your roommate like a proud little kid, pushing her lightly before joining your now girlfriend on the couch.

maybe majoring in education was worth it, you think to yourself as you watch sarah grin at the two of you from across where you’re sitting. despite your dreadful research papers, essays, and mock lectures – all of it was worth it if it meant meeting jihyo.  

sarah puts a leg over the other, leaning back against the smaller seat in your living room. 

“you know, y/n has been gushing over you since like, the first time she tutored your nephew. she's kept me up at night just talking about--” 

“sarah!” 

[pomefioredove]

Hi, there ! :D

I saw the new Christmas event and it got me intrigued so I want to try my shot

If it is not too much trouble, I would like to request:

Can I have a sugar cookie, #4, with marshmallows, whipped cream and powdered sugar ?

Take your time and without pressure. I wish you a happy December and a merry Christmas. Thank you. ཐི✧ཋྀ

tfw azul

order #4, sugar with marshmallows, whipped cream, powdered sugar

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a reason to quit

summary: azul works in customer service to get closer to his crush. pining ensues tropes: royalty au, coffee shop au, roommates au characters: azul additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is not yuu, reader is prince rielle's sibling

It was quite simple, actually.

If Azul could not impress you, he would die.

Okay. Maybe that's somewhat of an overexaggeration. But that's what it felt like.

If he had known that higher education would be so distracting, perhaps he would have gone right into the private sector!

Of course, his university roommate just had to be the kindest, smartest, most beautiful person he'd ever met. Of course they had to be the elder sibling of the detestable Prince Rielle.

And of course they were entirely uninterested in him.

Oh, how he loathed feeling this way...

At least he could still depend on the tweels, wherever in the world they were, to lend him their eyes and ears and stalking skills, and to find the exact coffee shop you perused every morning.

Someday, Azul thinks, He'll own a whole franchise of these. Then you can have as much overpriced coffee as you want.

Today, though, he's desperate.

"That'll be fifteen thaumarks. Yes, you heard me correctly- that was six pumps of caramel, ma'am- the price accounts for the product, it's quite simple! Wha- a secret menu? I assure you, if there was such a thing, I would have been the first to hear of it!"

Azul steps away from the counter, massaging his temples. It's only six thirty in the morning, and he already has a migraine...

It will be worth it. There's no reward without risk!

The shrill, unpleasant sound of the bells by the door becomes an angelic choir as you pass them. Azul hurries back to the counter. This is the only tolerable part of his shift, after all.

"Pleasant morning," he says to you, smiling as if his manager had just given him the rest of the day off.

You smile back. Good. Very good. You are so very pretty, do you know that? Surely, you do, you must have a line of suitors waiting for your hand. All the more reason for Azul to work hard.

"Ah... up bright and early again, Azul? You must really like this job,"

He grinds his teeth, putting more pressure into his smile. "Just love it. Your usual?"

"I think I'll try something new. Whatever you would recommend,"

"Very well," he beams. You trust his judgment that much? Azul pushes his glasses up his nose and gets to work, not-so-subtly checking you out every few seconds. Why is it so hard to speak to you????

Thank the Sevens for customer service small-talk, he thinks for the first and only time ever.

"How has your morning been?" he asks, again, trying not to seem too eager. "You had an exam quite early, if I remember correctly."

Which he does, of course. He has your schedule memorized down to the minute. As one does.

You look up from your phone. "Ah, you remember that...? It went... well, I think,"

Azul takes off his glasses to wipe the steam from them. He wants to savor being able see you, after all. "You don't sound too confident,"

"I'm sure I passed..." you sigh. "It's just that... well, our father is strict. If he found out I was barely passing-"

"I'll tutor you!" Azul blurts out, the paper cup of coffee nearly slipping from his hands. You blink.

"Ahem- I apologize. I only meant that it would be no trouble for me. And I would do so at a discount, of course."

He puts a lid over the warm confection and stumbles to the other side of the counter, as if this was his first day on land.

"You'd do that for me?" you follow him, eyes wide. Pretty...

Azul almost blushes at that cute look, and lowers his gaze to his trembling fingers, attempting to write your name on the cup, his normally perfect cursive reduced to scribbles.

"...Of course. It would be more convenient than hiring a stranger,"

"Oh..." you say, looking down at his hand as you take the cup from him, your fingers brushing over his. And you smile. "Thank you!"

Azul's heart misses a beat (several, really) and he blushes again (detestable human form!)

You don't seem to notice, but everyone else in line is staring. One older man taps his watch. How he loathes this job.

"It's no trouble at all," Azul says, glancing your way. "I was looking for a reason to quit, anyway."

[minnie-cai]

I had a dream of sleeping over nerd!Arts dorm room, it was storming outside and he refused to let me go walk out on my own I was on hid bed and he was working on something hes reading a book with his glasses low on his nose and was only in a white shirt and sweats where his junk was almost out. I was so horny I just straddled his lap and started going crazy, he ended up shoving my face against his pillow pounding me from behind fucking me while he kept his glasses on <3

𝑰 𝑴𝑬𝑨𝑵 “𝑪𝑨𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑬” !

that’s so crazy i actually had the exact same dream last night so here’s something i wrote about OUR dream

not proofread, bless your eyes, it’s 2 am and my eyes are basically shut.

rating ; mature. smut. it’s smut. leave if you’re a minor. or don’t. i can’t stop you. actually i can. i will find you. and take away your phone.

oh nerdy!art my beloved, where he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever met and he’s stumbling over his tongue awkwardly as he tries to flirt with you but it turns out his tongue was made for bigger things.

and it’s so weird the first time you fuck because you fall next to him on the mattress, out of breath, sweaty and high on orgasms and suddenly, all you had heard about nerdy guys being good in bed was confirmed.

you start dating, he holds your hand around campus sweetly and all of your friends love him. you’d heard the lore of all of tolkien’s writing at least a hundred times as you played with his hair but you’d hear it thousands if he asked. you give him head under his desk as he does your assignment for you and he cums all over his thighs and panics, rushing trying to find a towel or a dirty t-shirt as he babbles apologies and squirms because he hasn’t even properly finished yet.

after a few months of dating, it’s totally casual and normal for you to stay over at his single dorm after you’ve complained about how annoying your roommate was, under the condition, of course, that you’d let him study when he needs to. you promised.

you were lying in his bed, wearing a hoodie he’d lend you after you’d softly fucked with the rain pattering on the window. you pouted and twisted the fabric of the sweater in boredom. art was sweet, sure. he’d made you finish first like a gentleman, cleaned you up and dressed you but you just found it so annoying that he managed to move on to studying right after sex. you stared at him and stared and stared as he sat in his chair, his foot resting on the desk as he read a book he was assigned with his lips lightly agape and his round glasses low on his nose.

the grey sweats he’d thrown on quickly after he got out of bed being a size down from his normal one, giving you the great view that was the outline of his semi-hard cock.

as you’re thinking and just admiring him, you hear him sniff and he swallows, his adam’s apple bopping with the movement. and suddenly, yet again, your panties are wet. what is this boy doing to you?

“artie….” you mewl gently from the bed, your legs twisting under the sheets as you try not to press your thighs together. “is it gonna take long?”

“i wanted to finish at least two chapters by class tomorrow, why?” he mumbles as he moves on to the next page, licking his fingers so that the paper doesn’t stick together but the only thing you can think of is him licking his fingers and playing with your clit as he mumbles compliments against your collarbone.

“nothing… just a bit bored…” you respond as you start to stand up but he just hums, not looking up from his book. when you reach his chair and lean against the back of it with your elbows, moving your fingers to run through his hair, scratching his scalp gently, his head falls back against your chest and he lets out a breathy grunt.

when you moved to straddle his lap, that was his last straw. “you’re kidding…” he mumbles in a soft but raspy voice with a sweet smile when you roll your hips against him. his glasses threatening to fall off his nose and his curls falling messily on his forehead, times like these is when you really take a look at him and realize how gorgeous he is, like he’s trapped a ray of sun inside his eyes.

“huh?” you giggle, almost breaking this innocent character you’d built up. “i don’t know what you mean.” you shake your head with a gentle smirk and furrowed eyebrows, your eyes narrowing as you try your hardest to look confused and hold back your laugh.

“oh you don’t? oh really?” he says with an amused laugh and raised eyebrows. “i- yeah?- rea- really?” he starts with narrowed eyes but he ends with a scoff and a small smile as he realises he wasn’t sure what he really wanted to say and was just stuttering nonsense. “you don’t know what i mean? you want me to show you what i mean?” he chuckles with a sarcastic attitude, looking up at you through furrowed eyebrows.

“i might need you to show me what you mean.” you laugh but it’s cut short by a shriek when art throws you over his shoulder, laughing. “what are you doing?” you cry out as he stands still in front of his twin bed for a second, contemplating before he decides he doesn’t want to throw you on it and gently sets you to sit on the bed. he pauses and folds his arms, looking down at you, the smile not fading from his face. “what are you looking at me for? c’mon, pretty! down and on your belly.” he says, snorting at his own tone.

“down and on your belly? where did you come from? orderin’ me around!” you say surprised by his newfound confidence before following his instructions. “i’m not sure, i like it though.” he replies laughing before settling on the bed, his knees on each of your sides as he pulls down your panties, pulling your hips up, carefully raising them.

his hands hold their position on your hips when he inserts into you, making you sigh shakily. he grunts as he feels the warmth of your walls enveloping him. his head falling forward, his eyes shut.

moments after, he pulls himself back together, pushing his glasses back to the bridge of his nose and moving his hands to push down your back, your body being smashed against the mattress by his warm palms and when he moves to rut into you, you leave out a moan, muffling it with the pillow.

by the time he is close to cumming, full on whines and whimpers fall out through his lips, his thrusts getting quicker as he chases his release. “so pretty… fuck.. ugh- so good…” he babbles and his upper body connects to your back, folding forwards to try and handle the pleasure as you suddenly feel the cold material of his glasses against the skin of your neck which you felt was burning, the sensation making you shudder.

“please, baby… i’m- i’m close…” he blabbers on your neck, leaving small wet kisses against it as his rhythmic pace gets rougher.

when you both cum, whining and moaning like hormonal teenagers and fall back against the bed, he wraps his arms around your head, pulling you into his chest. “that was really, really hot-“ he pauses, taking a long deep breath “don’t do it again.” he finishes and laughs, pulling away to wipe the fog off his glasses with his your shirt.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (11/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The dinner is in full swing. And friends sharing a dessert is pretty normal - right?

Warnings: FLIRTING, PINING (you've been warned!), Charles is sweet, a bit of angst (at the end, beware)

Word Count: 3.5k

series masterlist

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A/N: if my story is tooooo slow burn, feel free to tell me! feedback is appreciated! love ya.

According to Google, cold water on the wrists helps against heat, because the blood circulating in the body is cooled there quickly and thus the body temperature should drop. 

So why the hell are you getting hotter?

About five minutes ago, you fled the table after Charles sat down next to you and your brain stopped working and before you could sweat through your clothes. Charles had looked at you with a concerned look after he made room for you to get up from the bench, but you had just smiled at him kindly and once the table was out of sight you were able to take a decent breath. 

About four minutes ago you were frantically googling for a way to get rid of the heat Charles was causing inside you, and since you don't have lukewarm showers here at the restaurant, nor do you have any essential oils with you, the only solution was cold water on your wrists. 

And for about three minutes you've been standing here, letting water run over your skin, and as long as you don't have to think about Charles and his touch, your body seems to cool down as well. But how could you not think about him when he is all your thoughts revolve around?

How silky his hair must be? Or how soft his skin? Or how gentle his touch? 

You lean your forehead against the cold tiles on the wall, though you would have preferred to bang your head against them. 

You can't think that way about Charles. About your roommate. Your friend. And especially not after two days together. You two don't even really know each other. So why can't your thoughts stop spinning around him?

Before you can actually bang your skull against the wall, the door to the ladies' room opens. 

"Are you okay?" asks Kika, leaning against the wall opposite you. She glances at your hands, which you're still holding under running water, and then looks at you with raised brows. 

You clear your throat before turning off the water and reaching for a paper towel to dry yourself off. "I'm fine."

Your new friend reaches out her hand, and you hand her the paper so she can toss it into the trash can beside her. "You can talk to me, Y/N. You know that, right? There is nothing you confide in me that I would ever tell anyone." When you raise an eyebrow, she nods slightly. "Not even Pierre."

You lick your tongue over your teeth once. "I appreciate that. Thank you."

Kika smiles. "I mean it. You can call any time of the day or night. I promise I'll always be there for you. Even if we've only known each other for a short time."

"I'll keep that in mind." You move toward the door. "But then don't complain if I really do call in the middle of the night and wake you up."

She pushes off the wall and puts an arm around your shoulder. "As long as you don't make me get up at six in the morning, this is going to be a super friendship." She gives you a quick squeeze before dropping her arm. "You ready?"

Together, you walk back to the table, where the guys have their noses stuck in the menus. Charles is still sitting in the seat next to yours, a fresh beer in front of him, and as you girls approach the table, he looks up. His look is more unsettled than concerned as he gets up so you two can sit down again. This time, however, he leaves some space between you, for which you are very grateful. 

"Is everything okay?" he asks quietly, so that only you can understand him. 

You nod. "Everything's fine." Seeing that he doesn't believe you, you come clean. Well, part of the truth. "I was just a little warm. It's okay, I promise."

He seems to buy that a little bit more, because he slides the menu on the table so you can both look at it. "We were going to order dessert before we leave. Would you like some?"

You take a look at the map and have to concentrate on every single letter so that you can ignore Charles' gaze on you. But that's easier said than done, because out of the corner of your eye you can see how his gaze drifts from your eyes, over your nose and further down, before he licks his lips and also turns back to the card. 

You think you read something about tiramisu somewhere on the menu, which is why you suggest just that. When you find it, you put your finger on the card. "This." Your finger follows the letters and finally gets stuck on the price, which is pretty high for a dessert. You draw air through your teeth. "Or maybe not."

Charles leans back and runs a hand through his hair once. "The tiramisu is actually meant for two people." He points to the heading above some of the dessert offerings. "Look. Dessert pour deux."

And indeed. The dessert menu is divided into individual servings of ice cream, panna cotta and chocolate souflée, and desserts for two like a moist slice of chocolate cake and dumplings filled with pureed fruit. And tiramisu. 

"Then I'll have something else," you answer him, but before you can say anything, Charles leans forward. 

"If you want, we can share the tiramisu." His voice is low, but deep. 

You don't even dare look at his face, because then you'd have to disappear right back to the bathroom to cool off. How can the suggestion of sharing a dessert sound so seductive? And why doesn't your heart realize that it doesn't have to beat so fast because of it? After all, friends can share dessert without ulterior motives. Or longing. Or anything else. 

You smile at him. "I'd love to.""

When the waitress comes back to the table to take orders, Charles orders the tiramisu with two spoons. As she disappears, he turns back to you. 

"So, what do you think of my friends?" he asks, taking a sip of his beer, which you only now see is non-alcoholic. 

"They're all pretty awful. Hardly bearable," you answer him. He almost chokes on his drink as he lets out a snort. "How can you be friends with them?"

He puts the bottle back on the table. "Good question. They were just there at some point and I guess I missed the time when I could have gotten rid of them. I guess it's just too late now."

"If you want to get rid of us," Kika straddles the conversation, "all you have to do is say so." She scoots closer to you and reaches for your hand to intertwine your fingers. "But you do realize that we're definitely keeping Y/N."

"Ouch." Charles spins on the bench and puts his knee on the cushion, mere inches from your thigh. "So you already like her better than me?" His gaze shifts to you. "Nothing against you, of course. You know how much I like you."

You don't have a second to think about his words before Kika pulls you against her so that your back is against her front. "But of course! We're both going to be best friends eventually! Besides, you can't tell me she didn't immediately captivate you too with her beautiful smile and charm."

You lightly slap Kika's forearm and try to squirm out of her embrace, but she won't let go. Which is why you can only look straight ahead, directly at Charles, whose gaze is gentle and loving. Dimples bore into his cheeks as he smiles. "She did."

Kika lets go of you and you turn to her briefly, giving her an evil look that's meant to express "What was that all about?" as several waiters come to the table and place various plates and bowls with all variations of desserts in front of you. Charles puts a spoon down for you and places the plate with the huge piece of tiramisu between you so that you can both eat from it comfortably.

He smiles at you and points his own spoon at the dessert. "Ladies first."

Gratefully, you smile at him before using the spoon to cut off a piece and shove it into your mouth. On your tongue, the tiramisu seems to explode and your eyes roll back and you can muster just enough strength to keep from moaning out in pleasure. In all your life, you've never eaten dessert so delicious. 

"That good?" asks Charles, who also slips a piece between his lips. A bit of cream sticks to the corner of his mouth and as he licks it away with his tongue, you have to swallow. 

"It's perfect," you reply, taking another bite so you don't have to look at Charles. 

"Don't be in such a hurry," Charles says, pressing his spoon down on yours as you go to take a third piece so you can't move it. "I thought we were sharing the tiramisu."

You jiggle your spoon a little to pull it out from under his, then point it at him. "You're already using my brush. I think I should get a bigger piece of this." You're about to dig the spoon back into the dessert when Charles pulls the plate away. "Hey!"

"So that's how we play, huh?" You can't even react as quickly as he's shoveling in the tiramisu. One bite after another, he pops it into his mouth before you can lean over and grab the plate to pull it away. As he goes to take another piece, you swat his spoon away with yours. 

"You've already eaten half!" you scold him affectionately. "Leave some for me, too, you glutton!"

"First come, first served," he responds, already holding out his spoon, but you grab the plate and turn your back to Charles so he'd have to reach around you to get to dessert. That way you would still be able to take a few bites in peace without having to fight for it, because for sure Charles wouldn't come that close to you for dessert. 

You feel the heat even before you can follow through with your plan. 

Charles moves close to you so he can snake his arm around you. His chest presses against your back as he leans in to look over your shoulder, so he can just find the tiramisu he's so desperate for. His hot breath is on your ear, on your neck, and you're glad there's a sweater and blouse between you, because if you were touching - really touching - you'd have a heart attack, you're sure of it. 

"Come on, just a little bit more," he breathes. 

Your body freezes and you tear your eyes open as if you've seen a ghost. Your grip on the plate tightens, your fingers almost clench around the china, and Charles's scent in your nose fogs your brain. 

Why does Charles have such an effect on you?

"Stop it," Kika intervenes, taking the plate from your hand. "You're arguing like an old married couple." 

"We're not," counters Charles, who now also snakes his second arm around you to get at the plate Kika has placed in front of him. But it's a little too short, so he slides a little closer to you. "If we were fighting properly, this would definitely end differently." His fingers get a grip on the edge of the plate, and you're too frozen to do anything about it. He moves away from you, moving back to his seat and shoving two more bites between his jaws before pushing the rest in your direction. "I'm willing to share with you."

Kika nudges you, bringing you out of your stupor. You turn to face him. "And what do you want in return?"

Charles smiles at you. "Just your friendship."

You return his smile, not even noticing the slight twinge in your chest. "Deal."

"This is where deals are made?" asks Lando as he sits down in the empty seat in front of you - Charles' old seat. "How much money are we talking about?"

"It's not about money," Charles replies, his tone sounding somehow cold, very different from just a few moments ago. 

You nod in agreement. "It's about something much more important." You point to the last bite of tiramisu in front of you, "It's about tiramisu."

Lando's gaze moves from your face to the dessert, then back to you. "That's actually very important. I know a pâtisserie in Nice that serves the best tiramisu in the whole world. Maybe we can go there together sometime?"

Before you can answer, the waitress comes to the table with the bill. As you are about to pay, Charles gives you a scowl. "I invited you, so I'm paying for you."

You roll your eyes. "You don't have to pay for me."

"I'd like to, though. I owe you that, as badly as I treated you today."

Since you can't argue with him on that, you let it happen and when all the bills are paid, the small group stands outside the restaurant. The wind has gotten even colder and inside you are scolding yourself for not taking a thick jacket. You blame it on Charles and his mood swings. 

As you wrap your arms around yourself to get a little warmer, Charles hands you his jacket. "My sweater is thick. And I don't get cold easily."

Hesitantly, you slip the jacket on and are immediately enveloped by his scent. The fabric is heavy but feels comfortable on you and you have to suppress the urge to smell it. You feel warm and would like to snuggle into the jacket. You stifle a yawn and smile at him. "Thanks."

"So," Pierre props an arm on Kika's shoulder. "What club do we want to go to now?"

"The Jimmy'z is about to open," Lando suggests, looking at his wristwatch. "Or La Rascasse. There's supposed to be a cool DJ there today."

The clubs tell you something, but from stories you know how expensive the drinks are there. And since you don't want Charles to pay for you all night and you can't afford Monaco's nightlife, your evening is declared over, for better or worse. 

Kika raises her hands. "I'm afraid I have to get up early tomorrow, which is why it's time for me to go to bed."

You're glad she's the first to get out. "I'm pretty tired. So I'm not in either," you fib, curling your lips into a thin, apologetic smile. 

Charles head jerks in your direction. "Shall we go home then?" he offers. 

"It's fine, you go party," you reply, moving a little closer to him. "Your day has been pretty lousy. So go get drunk with your friends. But call if you want to be picked up. Then I'll come get you."

"Are you sure?" he asks, unsure. "I don't have to go with the others either."

You wave it off. "I'm sure." 

"Do you still want me to walk you to the car?" He hands you the car keys. "It's around the corner."

"I'll be fine, Charles," you smile, "I'm a big girl."

"I didn't doubt that," he assures you, but still seems undecided about whether to drive home with you or go with his friends. "Would you really be okay with me going?"

"If you ask me again, I'll punch you."

Charles smiles. "Will you let me know when you get home?"

"I will."

Charles seems satisfied with your answers, so he gives the boys a thumbs up. "Can I get a ride with you, Pierre?" When the latter nods, he turns to you. His smile is affectionate and gentle. "I'll see you at home."

The sentence sends warmth coursing through your body. "I'll see you at home."

Lando stands next to you, "My car is also around the corner. We can just walk the bit together," he offers and you nod gratefully before Kika wraps her arms around you. 

"Well, you have my number. You can get in touch if you like," she says, giving you a hug. "And if you don't, I'll be very mad at you." Her grin is wide and she pokes you in the side before returning to the other boys. "Don't be a stranger!"

"Don't worry, I won't," you reply, nodding goodbye to Pierre and Max before your gaze drifts to Charles. You raise your hand and wave at him, which he returns. Then you turn and start walking. Lando walks alongside you. 

"So, how about that tiramisu in Nice?" he asks, his hands buried in his pockets. 

You laugh out loud. "You're not letting up, are you?"

He shakes his head and grins. "No way. Unless you want me to, in which case I'd let it go, of course. I'm not a stalker, after all." He looks down at you. 

"Well, it wasn't on my shopping list," you retort, collecting a slight nudge in return. "What? It was meant to be nice!"

"You better believe it." 

You both turn the corner and your Renault enters your field of vision. "I've never been to Nice before. So for all I care, we can go there." 

"Great." He takes a deep breath. "Then wouldn't it be better if I had your phone number? Then we could set up a day to go there."

You raise an eyebrow. "You already have my Instagram, isn't that enough? Not that you'll actually turn into a stalker," you joke.

"Okay, wow." He grins. "If you don't want to, of course I can understand. After all, we've only known each other since today."

"It's all good, Lando. Don't worry about it," you reassure him, telling him your number so he can type it into his cell phone. Then he calls you so you have his number as well. 

"Thanks."

"No problem."

You come to a stop in front of your car, Lando looking at you confused. "Is this your car?" When you nod, he looks like a light's gone on. "I thought you guys came in the Ferrari. Had me wondering why he'd let someone else drive his Pista."

You try not to let the confusion show. "Um, no. We took mine." You unlock the car and open the door. "Thank you for a lovely evening and for walking me to my car."

He glances sideways for a moment. His jawline is so sharp it could certainly cut paper. "You're welcome." He wraps his arms around you and squeezes. "And about Nice, I'll text you." He breaks away from you and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. "Get home safe, okay?"

"I'll do my best," you smile and get in the car. As you drive off, you see Lando waving in your rearview mirror. 

You can't help but think of his statement. Charles has a Ferrari? Those cars must cost hundreds of thousands of euros. How can he afford such a thing? Do people in the car business really earn so much that they can just buy a Ferrari?

And why does he insist on driving your rickety old Renault when he apparently has a super car at his disposal? Is he hiding something from you? And if so, then what is it?

Suddenly you realize how little you actually know about him. But surely he will have reasons for not telling you - right? You decide not to push him to tell you about his car or his job, but to wait for him to tell you on his own. Friends don't push each other to do that. And you are patient enough to wait for him. 

Before you can think about it further, you turn onto the street where your apartment is and immediately slam on the brakes. 

Across the street, directly across from your apartment, is a green Nissan with a license plate you are very familiar with. Your hands start to sweat. What does he want here? How long has he been waiting for you? There doesn't seem to be anyone in the car. So where is he? 

You turn a little on the seat to get a better view of the street, but it is deserted. Not a soul is on the road, you are all alone. And for sure you're not stupid enough to go home now, where he's surely waiting for you. 

You grab your phone and dial a number. It beeps a few times before the person on the other end picks up. "Y/N? Are you okay?"

You bite your bottom lip and feel your heart pounding in your chest. "No," you answer, and your eyes dart around, trying to spot anything out there. To spot him. But you can't see anything. Which makes you feel even more anxious than you already are. 

"Nothing's okay."

next part

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Rigor Mortis (part 4)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 3, Part 5

summary: You get your laptop fixed... eventually.

warnings: smut!! (finally lmfao) masturbation, mutual masturbation, tiny bit of voyeurism, recreational drug use, dry humping, etc 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: caught up to where the og oneshot ends so i wanted to switch it up!!

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 6.8k (still in shock i wrote all this lmfao, i'm strictly a <4k words kinda gal)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

lips black and blue and gold.

You're frustrated. Bouncing off the walls, head spinning; and it's for a couple of reasons. 

First off: you haven't managed to find a laptop. Money you've worked damn hard for, and you can't really afford a new one. With moving around, you've burnt through quite a bit of your emergency fund. Enough to convince yourself you'll be just fine with a pen and paper in class, and the Google docs on your phone when desperate. It might actually force you to go to the library instead of half assing assignments the night before, you think. 

And there's your lab book, which you were smart enough to back up on your computer, but guess what? That's fucked; probably taken apart and sold for scraps by Miguel's mysterious friend , who you've conveniently never even heard of and–

"Just ask for an extension." He says, feet up on the sofa. Oddly enough, you've been doing that more often; spending time together. He's not holed up in his room as much, and spends time studying on the dining table, or pretending not to watch the soaps you've got on TV. 

"You're overthinking it. Explain the situation, chula, and it'll be fine." He doesn't even look up, just throws the statement in your direction like the lazy pass of a ball. 

You scoff, because he's right, and go back to overthinking. You think you can copy out the ruined half of your labbook by hand, and if you beg your OChem teacher for an extra credit project then–

"If I let you use my laptop, will you stop doing that?" 

"Doing what?" You frown as he walks over, and reaches to gently pull your hands apart. He turns your palms over, pointing at the raw edges of your fingernails. 

" That. " Mindlessly, you'd been picking at your fingernails, without even noticing. Looking up at him, he rolls his eyes. 

"...is that a yes?" You nod, hesitant, and catch the hint of a smile as he pads off to his room. 

When he returns, open laptop in hand, he thrusts it into your arms - and sits himself back onto the sofa. This time, he splays out facing you, avocado socks resting on your knee. You fight the urge to push him off, a small price to pay in return for his moment of kindness. He's been doing that more often now, slightly more touchy and maybe even… comfortable around you. Eyes flickering up towards him, you catch his. His brows knead together, and you return your attention to the screen just as quickly. 

You're going through the motions, more or less, logging into your college's portal and drafting up quick emails to send to your lecturers. But it's when you open up a new tab, that you see something at the top of the screen and pause. Mouse hovering over an incognito tab, hidden in a nest of referencing websites and scientific journals; it's there. Bold letters, in all caps: WOMAN POUNDED BY BIG BEEFY–

You shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't. Once again, you look up at Miguel, and he couldn't care less; tapping away at his phone, only stopping to look at the TV. Nevertheless, you shift to hide the laptop screen from him. But you're not going to look, or anything. You know better than to take a look at your roommates porn habits, the stuff he drools over whilst he fucks his fist; a big, dextrous palm wrapped around his shaft. 

You've done it. Clicked on the tab and nothing's exploded, as of yet. You turn down the brightness, with some shame, as if to make the paused video less explicit. But the image stays, a woman folded under the weight of the man above – in the middle of bullying his fat cock into her pussy. It's amateur; hot and sweaty and sticky, with only the woman fully visible. You suppose your curiosity's been sated, but you can't help but think…

…the woman. She looks like you. 

Tilting your head, you can't help but see the resemblance. Not the exact same of course - but her hair is similar, body type, skin tone, eyes. It's not close enough to be weird, you guess, but it's enough that that thought stays - burrows into you like an earthworm into an apple. Scrolling down, you see other videos, with the same woman, other women that look like you - the telltale red bar of watched videos. Evidence, but not really, and it makes you heat up. Your mouth goes dry, and you look over to him: only able to concentrate on the hand he's got spread out at his belly, the brown flesh peeking out - and how it looks just like the one on the base of the woman's stomach in the video. 

"...everything ok?" He's looking at you, suddenly; and you attempt to click over to your original tab, discreetly. 

He doesn't seem to notice, padding over to your side and leaning into your shoulder. 

"Yeah, no, I just…" All you can manage is a nervous smile. "The screen froze, so…"

"Oh." He gives the track pad a swipe. "Seems fine to m–" 

He freezes up slightly, and you watch as his eyes flick up the screen. The laptop is eased out of your hands, and he gives a few quick clicks. By the time it's back in your lap, the offending tab is gone. Imperceptible, his jaw shifts. 

"...Should be okay now."

You hum, a little amused at the display. He's seemingly unfazed, his little slip up notwithstanding, and leans back to lie up against you. Obnoxious, he splays onto the sofa cushions, his weight practically smothering you as you fight to push him off. You think he likes it – it's the only possible explanation – and gets off from watching you squirm. He seems desperate for a reaction, a child pushing boundaries and pressing buttons to see what exactly makes you tick. 

And that's the second thing: it works . He's  more touchy, and just as insufferable – jumping at any excuse to be near you, it seems. Miguel has a tendency to hover, follow you around the apartment as you talk aimlessly, and you do the same. You sit by against the doorway to the kitchen whilst he makes dinner; he floats around the door to your room when you try to study. In fact, you've spoken to your roommate more in the past week than you have in the past month; about anything and everything. Sometimes, he actually tells you where he goes during the day; off to lectures of his own, another tutoring session or his basically-an-unpaid-job of an internship. In your words, it seems like with the shit they make him do at Alchemex, he may as well be a full employee: with way fewer perks and a distinct paycut. It's almost as if they're paying for my degree, he says with an eye roll, practically hanging off your door frame. 

He does that a lot, now: arms drawn upwards to lean from the oak trim. Especially during lazy mornings in - he'll hang on the frame, and move to tug at your heel, waking you up despite fervent protest. Ultimately, it's a kindness and you don't know how to tell him how much you appreciate it; as he wakes you up on time to get to the library in good stead. You're still waiting on that laptop, debating whether or not to bite the bullet; but for now Miguel obliges, letting you borrow his now and then. 

He's not nice, you think his tongue is much too sharp for that; but he is kind, giving you some grace you're not too sure you deserve. It's more than what you've been given in a relationship of 4 years, and you don't know how to feel about it. 

Well, you do. Your talk on the living room floor not so long ago flipped a switch and all of a sudden you're paying attention to your roommate; really, really looking at him. He is very, very pretty; with a tendency for lingering touches disguised as something else. And you're out of practice: horny, frustrated, stressed. With the way he touches you; a hand on your back to greet you, a squeeze of your shoulder to tease, bare legs across yours on the sofa; it's a lethal combo. 

And here you are, headphones on, prepping to take a dildo. Incredibly self-indulgent, but you need it . You don't quite have the emotional stability for a one night stand (you think if someone touches you just right, you'll fall in love), but this dry spell has taken its toll. 

It wasn't just after the break up, either. Mismatched libidos had felt like a steady death knoll. Realistically, you knew Jaime was always too tired after a placement, but it didn't make you feel wanted. You just want to be desirable and fucked within an inch of your life – was that too much to ask? 

As a result, your toy drawer had grown: vibrators and dildos, clit-suckers and g-spot strokers; crude once said aloud, but all in search of something. With the stress of school and Miguel, Schrodinger's slut ; it's a wonder you haven't cracked it open earlier. 

You're on the floor, its purple base suctioned to the hardwood and towels to cushion your knees. Lower half completely exposed, it's an art , porn on your phone to complete the visage. The screen is smaller than that of the laptop you're used to, only providing some stimulation. And so, as you sink down on its silicone length, you can't help but think back to the sofa - and the videos squirrelled away on an incognito tab. Miguel, hunched over and fisting his cock to someone that looks like you; maybe even thinking of you – although the jury's still out, on that one. 

But you keep it close to your chest, rub your clit to the thought of it: you're his type, and maybe he'd fuck into you like the man on your screen. Broad, gorgeous shoulders and you wonder how pretty he'd look with scratches littered down his back, or hickeys sucked into skin: lips plump and messy and swollen. 

"Oh, fuck," You say it under your breath, knowing that whilst Miguel is out of the house, it still feels odd to put your lips around the pleasure that thinking of him gives. 

You speed up, the slap of thighs ringing out into your bedroom. The dildo is around 6 inches, sizeable; but you can't help but wonder how it compares to Miguel's. He might even be bigger; thicker, most definitely; and you bet his cock is just as pretty as he is. Oh fuck, and he'd tease; press into your hole just to snatch it away at the last second, rubbing persistent circles at your clit. You hear his voice in your head, the low grunts and groans you've memorised from all those nights he's spent with other girls. 

"Miguel,"  You're moaning shamelessly now. "...f-fuck, please–" 

There must be something electric in the way he fucks: with the litany of girls in and out of his bedroom, what keeps them coming back? He must talk them through it, whispering filth with his plush lips against their ear, and you wonder what he'd say to you. God , you'd give anything to hear it him say, just once, how beautiful he thinks you are; for him to wrap his hand around your neck and pull you close. You want him to fuck you; hard and deep and desperate. 

With that, your pace quickens and you gush around the toy. A spasm of limbs, and you're clamping down on the silicone – an orgasm that leaves you breathless and heaving. You convince yourself it's the taboo of it: fucking yourself to the thought of your roommate, after listening to his grunts and groans for the past couple weeks. He started it … thin walls, and all that. 

You ignore the want that lays stubborn at the pit of your stomach, riding through stuttering spasms as your orgasm winds down. You're touch starved, that's all, and Miguel's the closest warm body to latch onto. Nothing more, nothing less. Groaning, you shift, picking up your hips to gear up for another round. Just once more, so you know for sure. 

Thin walls. The sound leaks into your roommate's bedroom. But with your headphones on, you can't hear the sounds that echo back: Miguel O'Hara, back home early, with an ear pressed to the wall and desperately pumping his cock. 

~~~

"I'm not completely convinced, to be honest." You're in Miguel's car, tongue sticking out as you fiddle around with the dials. 

His gaze flicks over, and bats your paws off the dashboard. Flopping into your seat, you watch as he turns up the AC and switches the radio, as if reading your mind. 

"You really think I'd go through all this trouble?" He scoffs. "Bundle your ass out of the house and drive all the way here to…. do what exactly?" 

"Assert dominance in our shared ecosystem." You say it with finality, and he scrunches up his face in confusion. 

"...what does that even mean?" 

"Like in that nature doc you were watching the other day." 

"Well, the point was that spiders aren't hierarchical in the traditional sense. They form colonies that are… quasi-social, if anything, and–" He pauses. "Wait. You were paying attention?" 

You shrug. "I thought it was interesting." 

"Seriously?" 

"...no, not really."

You laugh as he pulls over to park, in a space next to what looks like an apartment complex. It looks way nicer than your place, with sandy brick and hedges that look well kept. Your laughter peters off. Miguel looks decidedly not amused. 

He opens the car door and clambers out as you scramble for the seatbelt. To your surprise, he opens the door for you; stretching out a hand for stability as you get out. When you both walk over to the intercom, your palm burns with his touch, and flexes with the memory of it. It's becoming a problem, his hands. You push down the beginnings of a hazy daydream. He presses a panel, waiting for the buzz. 

"Lyla? Could you let us up?" 

He waves demurely to the camera, and the receiver clicks. A cheery voice rings back. 

"...Us? Who's us, Miggy? Did you finally find a girl that puts up with your shit?" Her voice is singsong, teasing. With a smile, you watch as Miguel bristles, speaking into the slick panel. 

"My roommate, Jesus, Ly–" He says the next bit a little rushed, turning away slightly as if you still can't hear her loud and clear. "I thought we went through this, you can't keep trying to embarassmeeverytimeI–" 

She talks over him towards the end, rapid-fire banter that you can barely make out. 

"You never come and visit, except when it's 2am and you need to break into–" 

"Once! It was one time! Déjate, ya está bueno ya–" 

[Let it go, that's enough now–] 

"Let it go? No, no, absolutely not… what is it that you always say? It's the principle –" 

"Can you just fucking open the–" 

"What's the magic word?" 

He sighs, mouthing an apology to you. "Lyla–" 

"Magic. Word."

He mumbles. "Please." 

"Please what?" 

"Please could you open the fucking door."

There's a pause, and rustling over the intercom. The door buzzes open. 

In the elevator up, you keep quiet, trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. Miguel is visibly brooding; arms crossed and brow furrowed. 

"Don't." He says, with a pout you almost think is cute. Almost. 

"I'm trying really, really hard not to." You put your hands up, as if to surrender. "... Miggy."

"Fuck off." And then, a little softer. 

"...I told you I have friends."

~~~

You leave it at that until you're in Lyla'a apartment, when she opens and ushers you in. She looks exactly the way she sounds: pretty, mousy features, with her hair in short, choppy layers. She's bundled up into a plush white robe; heart-shaped sunglasses sliding down the tip of her nose. 

Miguel breezes past her, towards the murmuring voices you can just about make out in the front room. 

"Lovely to see you too, Miguel." It's under her breath, but when she turns towards you there's a twinkle in her eye. 

You introduce yourself, and she pulls you into a tight hug. 

"I know," She says. It's ominous, but her voice is light and airy. When you separate, she flashes a wide smile. "Lyla. It's nice to put a face to a name."

"Uhh, sorry. What?" She ushers you further into her apartment as you speak, confused. 

"Oh, Miggy talks about you all the time. Complaining , mostly, but in that way he gets when he's trying really, really hard to pretend he doesn't care. Like, he texted me yesterday and–" 

"Thaaat's enough." You feel hands on your shoulders, and all of a sudden, Miguel is steering you away from her grip. You stumble into her living room, so bright and airy your eyes have to adjust to the light that floods in. Looking around, her apartment is gorgeous; a spacious open plan, floor-to-ceiling windows with a prime view, and lush furniture. Everything about it screams expensive – especially in comparison to your paltry place. Maybe the shock is visible on your face, but you're in awe. She can't be much older than Miguel, right? She looks about the same age, mid-twenties, not too far-removed from college… and it isn't quite adding up. 

"How can she afford this? That's what you're thinking." There's a voice on the sofa that makes you blink. A young man with messy brown hair, a set jaw and 5 o'clock shadow calls out to you in between mouthfuls of pizza. "Lyla's… mmhgh… suuper fuckin' rich… mmfgh… that's how." 

It's then that you notice there are other people here, sprawled out on the sofa set; boxes of takeout on the side tables next to them. Of course Lyla's rich: only 20-somethings with money to spare have matching sofas. 

She's like Beetlejuice, or the Candyman, and pops up next to you when her name's said. 

"I work in tech! With a cute little job on Wall Street, and a part-time one white hat hacking." She clarifies. " Ethical hacking." 

She giggles like she's told a joke somewhere, and you nod – still not quite understanding. 

"...and some side gigs that aren't as ethical." A blond haired man next to Mouthful-Of-Pizza pipes up. "When are you going to introduce us, Miguel?" 

He's grumbling in the kitchen area, digging through the shelves for something. He returns with a bag of chips and dip in a container, flopping onto the zebra print throw pillows. Distracted, he waves a hand around the group noncommittally. 

"Uhh, Peter, Ben, Lyla." He gestures to you, saying your name, and then to himself; tearing open the bag at the same time. "-and Miguel. All done"

"My turn for questions, now," Miguel says, pointing at Lyla, looking at the boys to his side. "Is she…?"

"...super high? Most definitely." Lyla giggles at Ben's words, for good measure. 

"...right. Peter Parker, nice to meet you." He throws a thumb to the back of the sofa, where you notice a little mop of red curls peeking out. "And this is my little Mayday."

Peals of laughter erupt from behind him, and you notice grubby hands with a death grip to the cushion rest. Miguel leaps up, rushing to her side to help her up its back. 

"Ayyy dios mio." He scoops her up carefully, "Buenas, Arañita." 

Mayday is on his lap now, a little toddler of about 1 or 2, snaking herself around to hug Miguel's chest. She is certifiably the cutest thing you've ever seen: gap-toothed and giggly, with a smatter of freckles like someone's flicked a paintbrush across her nose. And with the way Miguel melts, you can die happy, knowing that you've seen the impossible: Miguel O'Hara, cooing and fussing over the little girl. 

"Arañita?" You ask, to no one in particular. 

"Itsy-bitsy spider." . ..is the sing-song, choral response from everyone but Miguel. They're mimicking his tone of voice, and he raises his head from May, looking around. 

"I don't sound- " 

"You do, dude." Peter sighs, tickling the little red head on the tummy; smiling as she collapses into bright laughter. "I don't have a nickname, and I've known you waaay longer than she has."

Miguel covers her tiny little ears, and says, "Eres un pendejo, Parker . "

[you're a dipshit, Parker] 

The scraggly man sticks his tongue out in response, and May pulls at his hair for good measure. He yelps, and Miguel passes her over to her Dad. The scene is funny, for sure, but you feel it's warmth more than anything. God, you can tell they've loved and laughed with each other for years; the kind of friendship you'd kill to have. 

"We just need whatever's left of her laptop, Lyla," He's blunt, batting away long forgotten chips and dip. "...and then we'll get going. Wish I could stay longer, Arañita, but I've got some work to finish off."

May makes grabby hands at him, and you melt. Who knows how Miguel can stay strong in the face of her big, round eyes. 

He gets up to stand next to you, arms crossed. The height difference is stark: his tall, solid frame towering over everyone else. It seems like an intimidation tactic, but you know him just well enough to tell: he's trying not to be swayed by puppy eyes and promises of food. 

"You just got here, Miggy." Lyla sighs. "We're going over prep for Jess', and we'll be two minutes, I swear."

"Oh?" His eyebrows light up. "I knew it! You were being evasive on the group chat, and Pete wasn't returning my calls…"

Huffing, he clasps his hand around yours, ready to storm out. "This is an ambush. A goddamn setup!" 

"Wait, Miguel, I need my-" 

"I'll pick it up later for you, okay?" It's said like an aside, so soft only you can hear it. With his hand around yours, it certainly feels more intimate than it should. And it seems like he realises a little too late, dropping your hand as your faces are mere inches away. 

"Um, we should… we should go." 

You look past him to the faces blinking at you guys, on the sofa. A pause, and then you're gulping down stubborn feelings to ask a question. 

"Jess' ? Is there a party, or something?" 

Lyla nods. "Yeah, and Miguel's meant to be picking up cake."

The man in question pinches his nose. "I can pick up the cake just fine. It's the whole… going to a party bit I'm not too keen on."

"Come onnn, you know Jess would love it."

"She'd love to blackmail me with some dumb shit I did drunk, that's for sure."

"It's her birthday, hardass ." Peter whispers that last bit, covering little May's ears like before. "She can have a little blackmail, as a treat."

"You're gonna say no to a surprise party ?" Ben echoes, shaking his head dramatically. 

"A surprise birthday?" You light up. "Miguel, you have to go."

His stony demeanor cracks, for a moment. You latch onto it, hellbent on wearing him down. He's always got his laptop out doing work, or cracking open a little notebook to prep a lab. When he's not at home, he's at that internship, or tutoring, or planning a tutoring session. Work, work, work; and you'll be dammed if you let him rot away in a little cage of his own machinations. 

"Come on, Miggy." You watch him bristle, prying at that little crack in the surface. This has to be done with finesse: present a challenge, and watch him scramble to prove you wrong. "You're telling me a couple of hours at a party's too much for you? That's it? " 

"That's not–" 

"S'what it sounds like to me." You shrug, a little smile on your face. The aim is to look as smug as possible; and it seems to be working. 

His jaw shifts, annoyed. Lyla catches on, giving you a crazed smile. 

"Even your roommate's gonna come." She says, an arm linked in yours. 

"I am?" She gives you a little dig, and you're spluttering. "Y-Yeah, I am!" 

You can see him fight with his own ego; but it's a one-sided affair. 

"Fine. " He strains. "Two hours, max. And then I'm gone."

Lyla gives you a squeeze, and then wraps you both up in a hug he desperately tries to fight off. Ben slots around you guys, and Peter's last to join, with Mayday squealing on his shoulders. 

Eventually, you get what's left of your laptop: a little thumb drive with as much as Lyla could save. You'd thanked her profusely, of course; trying to slither out of her vice grip of a hug, as best you could. She's absolutely batshit, the good kind; cryptic, and strange, but with a lot of heart. She makes you wonder, and they all do; just how did they become friends with Miguel? How do they fit? 

The man himself seems a little different, as if reinvigorated by being around friends. In fact, you catch him smiling to himself on the drive home. It's sweet; to see a different side of him around people he's clearly comfortable with. If only for a little while, he sheds the heavy weight he seems to carry around. 

Around the house, you notice he seems lighter – humming to himself whilst cooking dinner. That very day, you watch the little sway of hips as he stirs a pot; headphones in, singing under his breath. He can't sing for shit, of course, and he'd kill you if you ever uttered a word; but it's a sight you commit to memory, not knowing when next he'll be in such a good mood. 

There's still the question of a new laptop in the air, but you feel more settled by the events of the day. You're a little less fucked school-wise, you've got a party to look forward to, and potentially a drunk Miguel to make fun of. He goes to bed early; and you can hear the quiet drone of a podcast from the other side of the wall. He drifts off to the sweet, dulcet tones of Top Ten Genetic Precursors for Early Onset Dementia; one of his favourites, you've determined. 

All is well, for now. A tentative truce, and maybe, just maybe: you're finally friends with your roommate. 

~~~

There's something about dramatic irony that seems to smack you across the face, every time. 

You've come to somewhat of a understanding with your prickly roommate, and the stream of women in his bed seem to slow down, for a bit. He's hot, he's a whore; but he's sweet, with an eye for detail. He can read you with a scary amount of accuracy. Antsy and hungry from a long day? He leaves you scratching your head at his clairvoyance when you come home, chucking you a hot water bottle and a warm meal. You go to bed with a full belly, cramps abated. 

He's still a prick, of course. Sarcastic comments, and a massive grump – but you've learnt to deal with that. Just a couple of days after a seemingly settled week; what you can't wrap your head around is the pounding music from next door, at fuck-off-o'clock . He shouldn't be awake, let alone interrupting your late night study session. 

You're pissed, leaping from your desk to pound at his door. You're thudding towards his room, ready to deliver a well-deserved verbal lashing, and the door just… swings open. Empty; there's a window ajar and music pumping from speakers. Bachata and cheesy 90s R&B; which sounds suspiciously like his sex playlist. 

Yes, he has a sex playlist. And it really has no business to sound as good as it does. 

Nevertheless, you're resolute. If he's managed to sneak someone, at this hour, you decide he's going to get more than a stern talking to. 

There's clattering in the kitchen, and you whip around; half-expecting the giggle of another girl. When you walk in, it's just Miguel, rummaging through cupboards: a half-naked thief in the night. 

"Miguel?" 

He pops his head up from a cabinet, with a half-eaten piece of bread in his mouth. Caught red-handed, you suppose; and he gives you a little smile. 

"S'everyfin' – mmmfggh –" He scarfs the rest of it down. "Everything okay?" 

You squint. "No. Not really."

He chuckles, a slight rasp at the edges of his voice. Dickhead – what exactly is so funny? 

"You can't have your music so fucking loud, not when I'm studying. It's the middle of the night and–" 

Dressed in nothing but a pair of gray sweats, he's busying himself with a sandwich on the counter; clattering around noisily like he doesn't have full control of his limbs. Which is…. weird, admittedly. You'd trust Miguel to slice a grape with a machete – his dexterity is usually unmatched. Not that you'd made a habit of staring at his hands, or anything. 

"Are you even listening to me?" 

He nods, attempting to keep a straight face, but the faux solemnity does nothing to hide that droop of eyelids and slump of his shoulders. You get closer, pushing him to face you properly. 

"Oh, fuck," His eyes are a little red, hair messy and windswept. "Are you… high? " 

Miguel O'Hara? High? You'd never thought you'd live to see the day, honestly. His eyes go wide, dropping his sandwich dramatically. And then he's got a big hand at your shoulder, pulling you closer with a finger pressed to his lips. 

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering your name like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone."

With the way he says your name it makes you light-headed. It's slow and careful, as if he's testing the way it feels spilling from his lips. And maybe, with the way he smiles, it feels good; tastes sweet wrapped around his tongue. 

"I won't." You breathe, and then you're both giggling.

There's something about the way he looks at you, peering under heavy lashes; basically eye-fucking you in the space of your tiny kitchen. You feel bare in a little t-shirt and sleep shorts; suddenly exposed. 

"You should…" He starts, cocking his head ever so slightly. "Join me, chula. "

It's soft; sinful, even; said as he coaxes you between his body and the kitchen counter. 

You don't trust your voice enough to answer, legs already shaky, so you nod. Slight, at first; and then with a little more gusto as the idea of him and you on his sheets – intimate, alone – creeps in. He stretches out a hand, and you take it; led to his bedroom like a scene you've seen before. All those girls before you; led to the dragon's lair like damsels in a fairytale. Except in this one, you suppose, you're not waiting for a knight in shining armour to save you. 

He sits you down on the bed, passing you a freshly rolled blunt. Passing it to your lips , more specifically; hand on your chin as he brings the lighter up to its end. Even prettier up close, all you can do is watch the press of plump lips, and pink tongue sticking out as he concentrates. As he leans in, there's a hand on your bare thigh. You inhale, deeply, and he hums with content.

"Good girl," He purrs, prying it from your lips to take a slow drag. 

"You're a bad influence." You murmur, watching as his eyes flutter shut. 

"You need to relax," He leans back, arm drawn lazily upwards. "This is helping."

"That's not–" Oh. You feel it now, a steady haze rolling over limbs. 

Miguel quirks up an eyebrow, amused. 

You repeat, slowly, "You're a bad influence ."

"Does it feel good?" You pause, trying to ignore his low tone; and the steady blaze that it ignites within you. Dragging your eyes to meet his, you see it: want, lust, something heavy that swirls behind them. 

You nod, itching for another pull. As if psychic, he gestures for you to come closer; and your lips almost slot against his. He exhales, and you inhale; in the closest thing you've come to a kiss in months. It makes you ache for just a little more contact, for those pretty hands to slot between your thighs and–

"Is this all I need to do for some quiet around here?" He asks, lilting. If only he'd stop talking; interrupting your fantasy with that stupid grin of his. 

You're shaking your head, laughing at the sheer gall . 

"You're fucking someone new every week, O'Hara. Loud. Who was it the other day? Cathy, Kayla –" 

"Sita, actually." He has a strange expression on his face. "And we didn't fuck. Just going over lecture notes."

"Sorry . Must have gotten mixed up with the half-dozen other girls in and out of here. Our apartment's not a brothel , Miggy."

He rolls his eyes, handing you the remnants of the blunt. 

"...s'not my fault there isn't anyone fucking you right."

You scoff. "How would you know?" 

"Thin walls. " It's cryptic. What the fuck does that mean?

You take a careful drag, and hand the blunt back – trying your hardest not to strangle him. It must show on your face as you tussle with the thought, because Miguel is staring; unabashedly, unashamedly. When you notice, it throws you off. 

"... what?" Ready to defend yourself, you huff. 

He shrugs. His expression is soft, reminding you of that night, not long ago. 

"You look like a painting."

You practically short circuit. You've been complimented before, of course. Hot, by men trying to get into your pants. Pretty, sometimes. Beautiful, the other times. Whether it's been sincere, you don't know – but you're smart enough to not overthink it. It's hard enough to live a life, as it is; and you'd rather not be bogged down by what others think, how you look whilst doing it. And yet, you feel your body betray you; a steady bloom of heat at your heart, like you've been stabbed. So deep, it spreads like blood on the front of a blouse. Like a painting, he says. And you like the way he says it; how it sounds spilling from his lips. 

Its implication sits heavy. Like a painting : hand-crafted, silken, soft –

He blinks, the crack of a smile on his face. And it ends in a fit of giggling, if you can even call it that. 

"Stop fucking with me." You grumble, and he thinks the way your face scrunches up with disdain is cute. There's probably an implication there he should unpack in therapy – how he likes it when you shout and put him in his place – but he's much too high to care. 

"M'not-" He quiets down, flattens his face into something resembling sobriety and gravitas. He gets a little closer, so close you can feel the heat of his body and flutter of lashes. With wide, dilated pupils, he stills - and it really doesn't help that he looks so pretty. 

"Can't stop thinking about you, hermosa." His voice is low, slurred with the weight of the blunt he's taken careful drags of. Every word makes you feel hazy, drawn in by his lips. " Fuck, all the time."

"Hear your laugh in my dreams, sometimes." He circles your bare thigh carefully, without breaking eye contact. With a thumb on your chin, he brings you closer, and closer still. Gently, you close your eyes, expecting the press of his lips against yours… 

…instead, you get a puff of smoke for your troubles. Reeling, you push him away. He collapses on the bed in a laughing fit. 

"... now I'm fucking with you." Rumbling laughter, and you've got the wherewithal to be embarrassed – hand still resting on his bare chest. 

A little cruelly, you push down, giving him an elbow to the ribs for good measure and he splutters with surprise – laughing all the same. 

"Asshole." You slur, and he grabs your arm to pull you onto the covers with him. You paw at him wildly, wrestling amongst the table of sheets. It's not a fair fight, not really; the wide expanse of his bare chest feels solid, and he's probably got more muscle in his pinky toe than you do in your whole body. Miguel is strong , but plays along regardless, pinning you to the bed with his hands around your wrists - but lets you turn him over just as quick. You're both laughing, the blunt long forgotten but its haze blurring the lines. You straddle his middle, hips flush against his and he keens; head back and cheeks flushed.

"Fuck," It's quiet, said as he writhes below you and you try to pin his hands above his head. Maybe it's the weed, but he lets you: eyes low, breath steady. And you stay like that, for a moment; bodies laid against one another. 

You don't know who starts it: the slow roll of hips, the swell of his cock bucking up against your heat. Regardless, you welcome it, letting the heat build up with the pressure at your clit. Your hips sway and all Miguel can do is watch. 

Lips parted, head back; and you set a steady rhythm that washes over you both.

Humping against one another, you get more desperate and drag your hands to his chest for purchase. Underneath you, Miguel practically purrs – one hand on your waist and the other clutching yours at his chest. 

"So, so pretty…" He sighs into it, wide palm pawing at your ass, shamelessly grabbing handfuls. By now, he's rock hard; and you feel him throb through the thin material of his sweats. 

"Fuck, I can't–" You moan, ragged, the roll of your hips gaining speed. 

Miguel coos, bringing a hand to your chin to pull you closer to the crook of his neck. 

"Too fast, hermosa. S-Slow it down for me." He grips your waist, forcing the pace to slow. Your hips stutter against his, delicious pressure making you cry out. And, God, you're close; pleasure building up at your gut. 

"Ohhh, fuck. Just like that, just like–" It's soft, whispered between the press of bodies like a prayer: reverent, intimate, a slew of garbled English and Spanish into the shell of your ear that goes straight to your pussy. 

"A-Ahi, ahi–"

[t-there, there–] 

Plush lips brush against your cheek, and you try so hard to not float away - with only his words to keep you tethered.  

"... no pares lo que sea que estes haciendo–ohh-fuck–" 

[don't stop what you're doing, oh fuck–] 

The coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you arch into his touch as he does the same. Miguel spills into his sweats, heaving with the effort. He can feel the clench of your pussy above, and he chases it in the aftermath; craning his neck to finally get a kiss. Limbs heavy, you still manage to swerve so his kisses land at your jaw. He's grateful for the contact anyway it comes and sucks careful hickies into the skin: at your neck, your collarbone, and anywhere else he can reach. 

You sink into it, curl up on his chest like a housecat; his hands wandering the gentle slope of your back under your shirt. 

Limbs heavy, you pry yourself from his hands ever so slightly. He strains to follow you up, snapping back into the sheets like an elastic band. Still, he kneads at your flesh - bare thighs spilling from your shorts. 

" Miguel," You whisper, hand travelling past his neck to cradle his jaw. "Need more…"

You punctuate that last word with a roll of your hips. Wanton, conflicted; he groans . 

"It's late, chula. " He says it slowly, hesitant – like he can't believe the words are coming out of his mouth. He's still high, lost in the whispy remnants of that blunt. You've never known weed to make someone more responsible, and you flop to his side, a little childishly. 

Miguel makes sure to keep a hand wrapped around your waist, dragging his other knuckles up your exposed tummy so that it rides up to the swell of your tits. 

"And you've got that 9am."

You cover your face with the span of your hands, grumbling. From between the gaps in your fingers, you repeat, 

" ...and I've got that 9am ."

He traces lazy circles in your flesh. Maybe it's the blunt, or the afterglow of an orgasm; but you make him laugh, a gentle ache replacing the creak and shudder of gears. 

"Idiot." He says, kissing it into your skin. And he burns from the touch, fleeting; like the warm flame from paper lanterns, or the flicker of a lighter against cool night air. 

_

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Miguel taglist (1): @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns

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