#my scrolling through the tag after watching the movie

[wwooyology]

Prove It To You | J.YH

「pairing」 : yunho x fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.5k

「synopsis」 : you could feel the end of your relationship coming, and yunho saw his opportunity to finally take his chances to show you just how much better he was than that asshole you called your boyfriend.

「genre」 : frat boy!yunho, uni au, angst, a small bit of fluff, smut

「warning」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, kissing, infidelity, unprotected sex, dom!yunho x sub!reader, slight size kink, big dick!yunho, biting/marking, fingering, clit play, breast play, teasing, begging, yunho is just a little bit possessive, petnames (baby, darling, sweetheart, my love), semi-rough sex, multiple orgasms, praising, creampie, readers bf hears from the other room, sloppy makeout, lmk if I missed anything!

「notes」 : tbh this idea stemmed from a memory of something similar that happened to me, except it wasn't a guy I was dating. it was a guy that I was crushing on, but sadly I didn't have a yunho back then </3

It was maybe close to three in the morning, and you were still awake as your so-called boyfriend slept peacefully on his bed. You had tagged along with him and your other friends who lived in the frat house to hang out; however, as soon as the others excused themselves to either leave or go to bed, you were left alone with him. At first, you thought you two could watch a movie before going to bed, but he just hummed while scrolling through his phone. He lay in bed while you sat on the ground.

“Just put on whatever you want.” His tone was uninterested as you turned to look at him and he didn’t even take a moment to look at you.

Defeated, you just put on a random show to watch, knowing that he wouldn’t pay attention to anything. You had planned a whole night for the two of you after everyone had left, seeing as he had been out of town with his family for the past two weeks. Yet now he acted as if you were the least important thing to him.

The movie hadn’t even played halfway through when you heard his soft snores behind you; looking over your shoulder, you saw that he was sprawled out all over the queen-sized bed. Letting out a huff, you rolled your eyes before going back to the movie.

Until you started to get tired, but you didn’t really feel like sleeping in the same bed as your boyfriend right now. However, you also couldn’t just leave because you had ridden in with your boyfriend, and everyone was already asleep.

You stood to your feet before bending down and grabbing your phone off of the ground, then walking out of the room, not bothering to turn anything off. The house was quiet, which was a strange thing to you because the frat house was always lively, but you just shrugged it off before carefully making your way down the stairs. Getting to the first floor, you looked around the dark room with the small light of your phone’s lock screen and made your way to the front door.

Unlocking the door, you pulled it open and slipped out of the house. As soon as you stepped outside, you were met with the harsh, cold winter winds, causing you to shiver. Shutting the door, you walked over to the step, sat down, and pulled your phone out again.

Opening the screen, you thought about using the rideshare app to get a ride back to the dorms, but it was a Friday night, and it was late at night, so you quickly closed the app once more. You debated walking back, but you were all the way across campus, and once again, it was late.

“Fucking hell.” You cursed quietly as you shoved your hands into the pockets of your coat along with your phone as the cold started to settle into your bones.

Leaning against the railings, you just watched as a few cars drove by, and you could feel yourself starting to drift off. Your eyes fluttered closed once more, and you hadn’t even heard the front door open behind you.

“Why are you trying to sleep outside?” His voice startled you right awake, and your whole body twisted as you looked up at Yunho. He stood just a few feet behind you with his arms crossed over his chest, his hair a mess, making you believe that he had just woken up. Your heart beat rapidly against your ribcage as you looked at him. Ever since you had been introduced to him, there has been an unspoken attraction, but you never act on it because of your boyfriend.

Swallowing thickly, you turned away, “I’d rather sleep out here than in there.” Your voice was soft as you pulled your knees to your chest, your skirt riding up your hips.

Yunho eyed you carefully before stepping forward and taking a seat next to you, leaving a comfortable space between your bodies. You looked over at him for a moment before turning back to look at the empty street.

“I figured you would be cozy in bed with fuckface.” You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his choice words knowing very well that Yunho and your boyfriend never got along, but you had no idea why.

After a few moments, you inhaled deeply before breathing out, watching your breath fog in the air. “I would be, but he seemed to be more interested in whatever was on his phone than me.” You let out a short laugh before looking over at Yunho, who was staring at you with an unreadable expression.

Yunho’s jaw tightened as he looked at you. He wasn’t sure how anyone could treat you so harshly. If your boyfriend wasn’t just bluntly ignoring you, he was short and seemed uninterested in doing anything that involved you unless it was with your group of friends. Yunho hated it and had believed that he could treat you so much better, but you never left that asshole; far too kind to end things.

But tonight, Yunho had enough, and he was determined to show you that you deserved so much more.

“Yunho?” You called out to the tall male, waving a hand in front of his face, trying to snap him out of whatever daze he had fallen into.

A gasp fell from your lips when he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him. Your other hand flew out to catch yourself, landing right on his thigh. With wide eyes, you looked up to ask him what he was doing, but he cut you off as his lips smashed into yours. His tongue swiped over your lips, the sweet taste of your lipgloss invading his taste buds. It wasn’t until his hand wrapped around the back of your neck that you pushed away from him with wide eyes.

“We can’t.” Your voice was quiet, eyes glued to your lap, and Yunho let out a deep sigh. He leaned forward, laying his forehead against yours.

“Forget about that jerk, y/n; he doesn’t deserve you.” He told you, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, and you looked up at him with misty eyes. “Let me take care of you. Let me show you how you deserve to be treated. Please.”

Your brain turned into a warzone as you stared into his eyes, contemplating the repercussions of your action. There was no love in your relationship with your boyfriend anymore, and you were sure that he would take the first chance he could to leave you.

Yunho was so much more than he was, and deep down, you knew that; he was always attentive to your needs and cared more than your boyfriend has ever in the entirety of your relationship. The only thing that held you back was you were too scared to leave your boyfriend, but now you couldn't care less. If he wasn’t going to care for you correctly, Yunho would.

And that’s all it took for you to lean forward to seal your lips over Yunho’s once more.

Yunho’s grip on your neck tightened, pulling you closer to his body, wanting you as close as physically possible. Your lips were soft against his and tasted like sweet cherries; it was driving him nuts. Once the both of you were out of air, you pulled apart, a small string of saliva still connecting your lips.

“Let’s go inside.” Yunho rasped, and you quickly nodded before standing up with him and following him back into the house.

As soon as you were inside his bedroom, Yunho’s lips were back on yours, stealing all the air from your lungs. His hands cupped your face as he stepped back, leading you to his bed. You let out a gasp when the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you fell back.

Yunho chuckled before crawling over your body, trapping you with his and bringing his lips back down to yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring every inch, trying to memorize every part. Your hands moved up to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him even closer to you.

“God, I can’t even tell you how long I’ve waited for this.” He groaned against your lips as your hips rolled up, brushing against his growing erection. Heat pooled in your core, and the pressure was almost unbearable as he moved away to look down at you.

“Yunho.” You whined softly, hands tugging at his shirt, causing him to smirk, his hand moving to grab your chin.

“What do you want, baby?” He asked, pulling your attention back to him, and he felt his dick twitch in his sweat at the needy and lustful look in your eyes.

“You. I just want you.” You breathed out, wrapping your hand around his wrist as you looked up at him.

“How could I tell you no when you look so desperate.” He teased, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips before moving his hands down to your skirt. “But I gotta prep you first, darling.”

You opened your mouth to protest but the sharp look he gave you instantly had you closing your lips once more. Yunho then unzipped your skirt before pulling it down your legs and throwing it somewhere in his room. Not even seconds after the cloth left his hand he grabbed your shirt, telling you to sit up and pulling it off.

Yunho felt like his body was about to combust at the sight of your pretty lace lilac lingerie, the cloth hugging your curves in all of the right places. You felt small under his gaze as he continued to stare at you, his fingers tracing along the seams. A soft moan fell from your lips when he brushed over your erect nipple.

“Did you wear this for him?” His voice was low as he leaned over your body again, face inches away from yours, and you just looked up at him with hooded eyes.

“It’s for you now.” You cooed, cupping his face as you looked up at him, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip.

Yunho smirks, his large hand grabbing your waist, causing your back to arch up, giving him just enough room to unclasp your bra. Once the piece of clothing was off of your body and off somewhere in the room, Yunho’s lips latched onto your collarbone.

He left a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your chest until he got to your soft mounds. A sharp moan fell from your lips when he took one of your buds into his mouth. Yunho took his time with your chest, marking almost every inch of skin he possibly could, relishing in the sounds that left your pretty lips.

“Yunho…” You whined, back arching against him as his hand slipped under your underwear, cupping your wet heat. The feeling of his hands on your body was electrifying, like nothing that you’ve felt before.

“Already so wet for me,” He groaned against your skin, moving up to your neck as his slender fingers pressed against your clit.

A choked moan fell from your lips as he started to circle your sensitive bud, his lips pressing wet kisses along your jugular. He soaked in all of the noises you made as your fingers tugged at his shirt; he was determined to make sure that you only knew his name.

“Yu–” You were cut off when he slipped a finger into your tight cunt, brushing over spots that you’ve never been able to reach. Tears pricked at your eyes as he kept a steady pace, watching you closely and studying all of the expressions you made.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart. I’m not sure you’ll be able to take me.” He pouted as he added a second finger, stretching you out and pulling another moan from your swollen lips.

“I-I can take it, I promise!” You choked out, looking up at him with so much need, and your hand wrapped around the back of his neck.

“You’re such a good little thing, aren’t you?” He hummed, picking up his pace after adding a third finger. 

You’ve never felt this full before, and your high was right on the tip of your tongue; you just needed a little bit more. Noticing, Yunho pressed his thumb against your clit, circling the nub in time with his thrusts causing your eyes to roll back as you came undone.

“Yunho!”  You cried out his name as he worked you through your orgasm, his lips pressing against your temple.

“I’ve got you, baby. Let it all go.” He spoke softly, his pace slowing to a stop, and you lay there breathing heavily. Yunho pulled his fingers from your soaping cunt, and wrapped them around the flimsy fabric before pulling them down your legs.

Your body still felt like it was on fire, the burning need for more almost suffocating as you sat up. A chuckle left Yunho’s mouth as you tugged at his shirt, begging him to take it off.

“You’re so cute when you’re all needy.” He cooed as he pulled his shirt over his head and pulled his sweats down his hips, letting them pool on the ground.

Your eyes went wide, seeing the outline of his cock under his boxers; he was big. Noticing your expression, Yunho grabbed your chin and pulled your eyes back to his. Leaning forward before he sealed your lips in another kiss as he laid you back down, hands traveling down to your hips.

He pulled away for a moment, but you tried to pull him back, not getting enough of his taste, and he pressed a kiss on the corner of your lips, “Hold on, I need to grab a condom.” He then moved to make a grab at his nightstand, but you quickly sat up, grabbing his arm.

“No! I want to feel all of you, Yun, please.” You pleaded with him, your bottom lip jutting out as you looked at him. He looked back at you in shock, wondering if he had heard you correctly. “I’m on the pill, please.”

Yunho felt like he could cum right then and there at the thought of fucking you raw, but then he started to wonder if you let your boyfriend fuck you raw too. Noticing the conflict in his eyes, you reached up, cupping his face.

“He’s never fucked me without a condom, just you.” Your voice was soft, and Yunho looked at you for a long moment before his lips crashed into yours once more.

“I love you, fuck. I love you so much.” He told you, and he tugged his boxers down, letting his aching cock spring free. He pulled your hips closer to his, not once leaving your lips in the process, even swallowing all of your moans as he teased your entrance with his tip.

“Fuck! Yunho, please!” You whined, rolling your hips, trying to get him to push in already, and he smirked.

He watched your face contort in pleasure as he started to push into your wet cunt, splitting you open, and you gasped out. You started to question whether or not you would actually be able to take him as tears started to spill from the corner of your eyes.

“C’mon, sweetheart, you said you could take it.” Yunho teased as he continued to push into you, and you choked out his name.

“I can– fuck!” You cried, wanting to be good and take all of him, and Yunho watched in amusement as you brought your hand up to cover your mouth as your moans got louder.

Yunho was almost fully in when you grabbed his wrist that was beside you, your brain going hazy at the sudden fullness. Incoherent babbles fell from your lips, and Yunho chuckled as he took in your already fucked out state.

“I’m not even fully in you yet, and I’ve already fucked you stupid.” He sat up a bit to grab your hips, using the leverage to push the rest of the way in. A choked moan fell from your lips at the sudden movement, your eyes rolling back. “God, you feel so fucking good, sweetheart.” He groaned, fighting off the urge to move, wanting you to get adjusted first.

“Y-Yunho…” You breathed out; all of your nerves felt like they were on fire, but it still wasn’t enough. “Fuck me, please!” Your eyes cracked open, gazing up at him with a teary gaze and Yunho felt the last bit of his composure crumble away.

“My pleasure, baby.” He growled before pulling out and slamming back into you, eliciting a loud moan.

Yunho’s pace was relentless, allowing no room for you to breathe, and stars danced across your vision. Your moans were bouncing off the walls, and Yunho was sure that the neighbors could hear how good he was fucking you. Then he suddenly remembered that your boyfriend was still asleep in the next room, and a sinister smirk spread across his face.

“You’re mine now, sweetheart.” He told you, leaning down to press a kiss against your jaw, and you nodded your head, all words lost to you. Kissing his way up to your ear, he nipped at your earlobe, causing your body to shiver, and another broken moan fell from your lips. “Tell me who you belong to, baby.”

“You,”

“Say my name,” Yunho growled, pulling away to pick up his pace once more, and you let out a pitiful squeak.

“Yunho.” You cried out, fingers wrapping around his wrist as your head fell back when he brushed over your sweet spot.

However, that wasn’t good enough for Yunho, “louder.”

“Yunho!” His name fell from your lips even louder than last time, but again, it wasn’t quite enough for the male.

“Louder!”

“YUNHO!” You screamed his name when he pressed down on your clit, causing stars to cloud your vision, your high right around the corner.

A triumphant smile spread across Yunho’s face when he heard movement on the other side of the wall, knowing full well that your boyfriend had heard you. The smile was soon wiped away, replaced with a groan as you tightened around his swollen cock.

“Fuck!” He cursed as he felt his own high creep up on him, and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, especially if you kept squeezing him like that.

“Yun, ‘m close!” You cried out, back arching off of the bed as the knot in the pit of your stomach tightened.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, cum for me. Make a mess all over my cock.” His words were the last push you needed before you came all over his cock. He groaned as he looked down to see the milky white ring forming around the base of his cock.

“Yunho!” You cried out as he continued to fuck into you at his merciless pace, white spots littering your vision as he abused your sweet spot.

“I’m almost there, baby, just a little bit more.” He cooed, leaning down to capture your lips with his in a sweet kiss as his thrusts became sloppy before he shook in your hold as he came, painting your velvet walls white. “F-Fucking hell.”

Coming down from your highs, Yunho laid on your chest after he pulled out. Both of you just lay there as you tried to catch your breath, your fingers running through Yunho’s hair as he held you close.

You were then snapped out of your trance when you heard movement in the next room, realizing that your boyfriend’s room was right next to Yunho’s, and your heart dropped. Noticing the change in your mood, Yunho lifted his head, resting his chin on your chest.

“What’s wrong, my love?” He asked, and your heart swelled at the endearing pet name.

“I think he heard everything,” You whispered as you glanced down at him, worry written all over your features and Yunho let out a sigh before pushing himself up until he was hovering over you once again.

“He definitely heard something, but it’s his loss. You’re mine now.” He told you before leaning down and kissing you once again, his kiss filled with so much love and need it pushed all other thoughts away.

After a few moments he pulled away, cupping your face in his hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek. You wrapped your hand around his wrist as you looked up at him with a soft smile, soaking in all of the affection he was giving you. Pulling him back down, your eyes fluttered closed as his lips brushed over yours.

“I’m all yours.” You confirmed his statement before sealing the kiss, all thoughts of your ex-boyfriend no longer clouding your mind. It was all replaced with Yunho and the feeling of his lips and body on yours, showering you with all of the love and appreciation that you deserved.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[mimimui]

how they spend nights with you

includes: bakugo, midoriya, todoroki, kaminari, shinso, monoma

tags: gn!reader, you're in the same class as them, established relationship, fluff, i used to strictly be a bnha author (??!) and i just missed them so much

a/n: it's been over a year i think (ᵕ—ᴗ—) my writing might be ass rn but i promise i'll lock in soon!!!!!!!! i genuinely miss writing, but as soon as i entered a higher level of education, i lost all free time and couldn't continue writing. but ur fav hc writer is back!

katsuki will not stay up later than 8pm on a school day because he cares a lot about his rest, but if it's a weekend or you're on break, he'd be willing to stay up later with you.

he doesn't care much for the dorm rules, especially since you're his partner anyway, so he will definitely stay in your room past curfew. curse those who catch him in your dorm late at night. what are they going to do?

he's up for whatever you want to do, honestly. movie marathon? self-care night? cleaning your room? he'll do it all. he might jokingly complain here and there, but he's truly relaxed around you. he'll spend nights however you'd like.

everyone knows that izuku isn't one for sleeping early. your nights consist of watching him train outside the dorm building, or sitting on the floor of your room exchanging notes.

if you wanted to do something fun, he wouldn't refuse, but he'd be going back to his own room at the end of the night. not because he doesn't want to sleep with you, he just does it out of respect. your rooms' beds can only accomodate one person comfortably, and he doesn't want to disturb you!

he's more of a morning person, really. so if you'd like a jogging partner or a breakfast buddy, he's up bright and early with you.

he knew that getting into a relationship meant spending a lot of time together, but shoto hasn't received much affection before, so he wasn't quite sure where to start.

when you first suggested spending nights in either of your rooms, he didn't see any problems in it. he quickly got used to this routine, and he always expects to see you at his door after dinner time. you mostly only talk about the happenings of the day and your plans for tomorrow.

neither of you initiate sleeping together at the end of the night, but he isn't opposed to it. he's thought about it, of course, but he won't say anything until you say something first.

denki will match your energy in anything. if you want a quiet night, he'll just be by your side as you both scroll through your phones. if you want a more fun night and do something, he'll be up and at 'em as much as you are.

he is the best person to try new things with because he's just as curious as you. if you want to sneak around the kitchen to make up a new snack, he would be your little flashlight to help you out.

he definitely glows a little in the dark, so if you want to sleep with him, you have to cover him completely with a blanket. he jokes that it's because he's the light of your life, and even if that's true to you, you'd never let him know it. he might glow even brighter.

hitoshi has a hard time falling asleep, so he's grateful for your company every night. he usually asks you to come to his room, but if he feels especially awake, he'd go to your room. you mostly just watch movies together until both of you feel sleepy enough to lie down on bed.

the first time you asked to sleep in the same bed, you didn't think it'd be the last time you'd ever have to. sleeping together is a must now. you have no choice, he loves sharing a bed with you. he thinks it's a good thing to have someone warm next to him as he tries to sleep. it's comforting.

fyi, he has one pillow on his bed. just a single one. so... good luck!

neito needs to see you every night. every time, without fail, he will always end up at your door. you don't even need to do anything together, he just wants to be in the same room as you.

he won't sleep with you if you don't want to, but he's always excited when you ask him to. not because he's planning anything malicious, he's just really happy to be so close to you. to hell with the rules, he will stay in your room if it's the last thing he'll do.

he will probably get in trouble for staying in your room more than in his own, but he wouldn't care much for it. you're his partner, so it's worth getting into a little trouble.

thanks for reading (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[helen-with-an-a]

Beautiful Girl Masterlist

Fluff | angst | angst/comfort | suggestive | smut

I’ve tagged everything in relation to this universe under #fic: beautiful girl, if I forget to upload something to this masterlist, you can scroll through that tag instead 💕

Oneshots

Welcome Home (18+) Alexia comes home from the Olympics

Halloween (18+) Alexia forces herself to watch a scary movie with you

Injury (18+) (coming soon) You tweak your knee

Night Out (18+) (coming soon)Alexia decided to be bratty

Christmas Eve (18+) (coming soon) You go to Barça’s Christmas Eve party

New Year’s Eve (18+) You spend New Year's Eve together

Blurbs

First Meeting you meet a Beautiful girl

Outside Looking In Mapí and Ingrid explain the dynamics of Capi vs Alexia vs Ale

Tired Alexia is just so tired

Coaxing (18+) no-plot-pure-smut

Ballon d’Or (18+) Amor comes home from winning her first Ballon d’Or

200 Goals Alexia is being stubborn

Headcanons

Headcanons 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Quick Headcanons

Some more quick ones

More things that have been on my mind

Random ones

Birthday headcanons

Amor and her instruments

Ale trying to get off without Amor there

The time they had a giant fight

The Man City Barça UWCL match

Amor and Las 15

Amor and Ale after the 2023 WWC

SWF headcanons

NSWF Headcanons

Christmas Traditions

Moodboards

1 | 2 | 3 | (coming soon)

Questions

Does Amor have tattoos?

What Nationality is Amor?; How is she like playing against Alexia?; What is her relationship with Alexia’s “kids”?; Does Amor have any secret talents?

Does Amor like the Alexia TikTok edits?

What does Amor and Alexia’s relationship look like to other people?

Was Amor in Alexia’s documentary?

Is Amor younger than Alexia?

How did Amor and Alexia announce they were dating to the public?

What was the moment it clicked for Alexia to let Amor be in charge?

Is Amor on track for a Ballon d’Or?

Is Amor an arse girlie?

Does Ale and Amor encounter any issues with it being Amor's first real wlw relationship and (im assuming) not Ale's?

What’s it like when they play each other at National level?

[ericshoney]

Madison's sister ~ Chris Sturniolo

Summary: After your older sister, Madison, introduced you to the triplets, you and Chris hit it off instantly, resulting in you both dating.

Warnings: possible swearing, nicknames, kissing, fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Around the new year, Madison introduced you to some of her new friends. Those were the Sturniolo triplets, Nick, Matt and Chris. You being the same age as them meant you got along really well quickly, mainly Chris.

Months on, you were very close with the trio, as well as Madison, but you and Chris had something more special. When you were with him, it was like nobody else mattered, you would talk and yap for hours, joke, play video games and watch movies.

This led to him finally asking you on a date. That led to you being his girlfriend. To now, barely being away from each other.

Nick, Matt and Madison loved to tease you both about always being together or talking about each other. Madison thought it was cute that her little sister had a boyfriend and was happy it was someone she could trust.

Currently, you were sat on Chris' bed, scrolling through your phone. He was in the shower after filming with Nick and Matt. You were going to have a movie night.

"Babe, you seen my blue Fresh Love hoodie?" Chris called from the bathroom.

You looked down and giggled to yourself. You were wearing the hoodie as you felt cold earlier. You got up and walked to the doorway of the bathroom.

"I'm wearing it." You answered.

Chris turned around, wearing a pair of shorts and a tank, smiling wide.

"You look cute in my clothes." He said, kissing your forehead.

"It's comfy." You replied, scrunching up the ends of the hoodie in your hands.

"I know, baby." He responded.

You smiled and went back to your spot on the bed as Chris threw on a different hoodie. He then joined you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"What we watching?" He asked.

"The best movie ever!" You exclaimed as the start of Back to the future started.

"Hell yeah!" Chris cheered, making you smile. You knew how much he loved this movie as well as yourself.

"I'm glad I met Madison." Chris then blurted out.

"Hmm?" You mumbled, looking up at him.

"Yeah, cause then I got to meet you and call you mine." He continued.

You smiled as his lips gently met yours in a sweet kiss. You closed your eyes savouring the moment.

"Love you princess." He whispered, softly kissing your forehead.

"Love you too." You replied, cuddling into his chest more.

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Tags:

@lgbtq-girl @mattsfavbigtitties @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sturniolo-fann

[hanglimi]

are we just friends? - chaewon

5 times y/n and chaewon were "just friends" and the one time they weren't.

TAGS - non-idol! chaewon x non-idol! reader, friends to lovers, fluff, f!reader

WORDCOUNT - 2000~

WARNINGS - like two swears or something

A/N - not proofread, ending kinda rushed

(1)

“isn’t that chaewon’s sweater?” yunjin mentioned in passing as she sat down your bed, looking around and observing the walls.

you threw a quick glance to where she was, noting the baby blue sweater draped on the back of your chair. you hummed absentmindedly in response and ushered your roommate off your bed, swiping at the sheets.

“can you please get out of my room and go clean up yours instead,” you muttered while continuing to fix every nook and cranny. you turned to look behind you, and groaned at yunjin’s slow pace, pushing her through the doorway of your room.

“chaewon’s coming over in like,” you checked the watch on your wrist and your eyes widened at the sight. “she’s coming over in 10 minutes!” you exclaimed shocked, rushing around your apartment trying to organise everything.

yunjin simply let out a chuckle as she inched towards her room, “you act like she doesn’t come over every day. i’m sure she won’t mind the sight of people actually living here.”

“fuck off!” you said in response and continued to wipe down the counters of your small kitchen.

-

“y/nnie!” chaewon exclaimed in joy as you opened the door for her, widening your arms for a hug. she slipped into your hold, fitting into place exactly like how she always did. your body untensed during the hug and you held her tight, smelling her hair.

you pulled away after a short time, noting the slight look of disappointment on your friend's face.

“i forgot to give it to you yesterday before you left, but I’ll wash the sweater you gave me and give it back to you as soon as possible.” you said, leading chaewon into the living room.

“don’t worry about it. you can keep it.”

“really? I thought it was your favourite one,” you raised your eyebrow in pleasant shock and sat down on the couch, chaewon following suite, grabbing the remote to the tv.

“it’s fine, really. i like how it looks on you anyways.” her smile grew as she leaned her head on your shoulder. your face felt warm at the comment and you quickly switched the topic, snatching the remote, and scrolling through movies to watch.

you swore you could hear yunjin cackling through the thin walls of your apartment.

(2)

“would you be interested in coming with me to sakura’s party?” chaewon said, preheating the oven as you whisked together the ingredients in the bowl in front of you. “she mentioned that I needed to bring a plus one, and you're obviously my go to,” she finished. you could feel her eyes on the back of your head as you continued moving your wrist.

“i’d love to, but isn’t a plus one supposed to be someone you're interested in?” you stopped whisking to turn to look chaewon in her eyes. “i think I’d feel weird if I came along.” at the sound of your subtle rejection, the glimmer in chaewon’s eyes dimmed and she faced the other way again, putting the ingredients away.

“it’s just,” chaewon started, gripping the edge of the counter, “we’ve been going to events together for such a long time– even things that were usually for couples. it’d be so weird if I were to suddenly stop bringing my closest friend because this time it's a little more serious.” she vaguely bent her fingers at the word serious, deepening her voice for the effect.

you nodded along to her words in silence, testing your response in your head before replying.

“i’ll go.” she cheered in response before you could finish, and jumped up and down, fully turning around again to grab onto your arms.

“but,” you drawled, rolling your eyes at her actions. “next time one of these things happens you’re bringing someone else. you gotta talk to other people these days, chaewon. i won’t be here forever.” you smiled slightly at your words, but quickly frowned at the sight of chaewon’s shoulders slumping down, even as she tried to fake her own laugh.

you quickly grabbed a handful of flour and threw it at her face, causing her to slap you on the arm.

“yah! what was that for!” she growled, ready to retaliate.

“you just looked like an angry puppy. whenever you have that face i can’t help but swoon.”

the pink of her neck rose to her cheeks and her ears, so she continued to hit your body, muttering random things.

you had always hated making chaewon sad.

(3)

you checked the time on your phone before glancing back up at your friends. the three of you had been eating for two hours, and the time felt right to leave and go home.

“i gotta go guys, but it’s been really fun catching up again!” you wrapped the conversation up, gathering your things.

“aww. is grown up y/n gonna go to her girlfriend now?” aeri imitated a child’s voice as minjeong giggled alongside her, hitting her shoulder urging her to stop.

you raised your brow in annoyance at her voice and confusion of the statement, “who’s my girlfriend?”

“chaewon, duh.” aeri stuck her tongue out at you, saying it as if it was common knowledge as she continued packing up her things.

“when have you guys ever even met her?” you were totally confused now, trying to recall a past date where the two friend groups had collided.

“never. but you talk about her enough that we could practically write a whole biography on her.” minjeong grinned at her words.

you pinched your nose at your two friends' antics. there was no way that you talked about chaewon enough for them to fabricate her being your girlfriend. it was obviously an over exaggeration on their part.

“you guys are literally liars. there’s no way you even know who she is.” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms. “you probably know her name because I’ve mentioned her before.”

“call us all the names you can construct in that little brain of yours, but we know her like the back of our hands.” aeri said, continuing to rile you up.

you soon left the restaurant with a throbbing headache because of aeri’s annoying self.

you’d need to ask your other friends if you really did talk about chaewon that often.

(4)

“why’d you bring me here again?” chaewon asked, grabbing onto your outstretched hand as you led her up the hill.

“can’t a girl just bring her best friend somewhere special?” you said lightly, continuing up and dragging chaewon along.

the both of you reached the peak of the hill, and you brought out a soft blanket from your backpack, laying it down on the grass.

“so this is what you prepare instead of studying for final exams.” chaewon stated, hands on her hips as she analysed the get up.

you chuckled and gestured down towards the blanket, “i took the time out of my studying to set this up. you can at least appreciate me and my efforts a little bit.”

“oh I definitely appreciate it. i think it’s cute.”

you laid down on the blanket, interlocking your fingers onto your stomach, gazing at the dark sky above as chaewon lowered herself down to the ground. her shoulders brushed against yours as she got comfortable, fidgeting with her feet.

the two of you stared up at the night, watching and searching for the stars. minutes passed, and chaewon’s breathing evened out, her body relaxing. the bright lights from the city drowned out the twinkling of the stars anyways, so you turned your whole body towards your friends, roving your eyes up and down her face. You propped up an elbow and laid upright onto your side, taking in chaewon’s features.

“why’re you looking at me like that,” a mumble fell from the girl’s lips, and she slowly opened her eyes, her words piercing the silence.

“no reason.” you fell back down onto your back, going back to staring upwards.

“y/n.”

“mmm.” you let out, trying to fuse into the blanket underneath you for warmth. chaewon noticed this and shifted closer, letting her arms wrap familiarly around your body.

“thanks for this.”

“of course chaewon. anything for you.”

you really would do anything to make chaewon happy.

(5)

“i wonder how it’d sound if it went like this.” your friend’s voice drifted from one side of the room to the other. you looked up from your schoolwork and directed your attention to the girl on the other side of the room. her brows were furrowed deep in concentration, and she tapped a pen to her lips, a pouty look to them

she continued to sing unknowingly, stopping to make tweaks, and continuing from where she left off. it was a ritual – you would bring the work you needed to catch up on to chaewon’s little studio room while she would practise her singing. something easy to fall into, somewhat of a tradition really. all your friends knew when it was “y/n and chaewon” time – or whatever they liked to call it, so they’d leave the both of you to your devices.

chaewon’s smooth voice brought you back to where you were, and you glanced back at the schoolwork you were doing not too long ago, to see scribbles and words relating to chaewon on your paper. a groan escaped your lips as you erased the illegible comments.

“you alright?” chaewon asked, pausing her melodies to push her glasses up her nose and glance in your direction.

“just fine.” you whispered back, throwing a thumbs up in her direction.

“we can leave early if you’d like-”

“no!” you shouted, covering your mouth in shock at your outburst. “no thank you, i like the quiet of this room.” in reality, you just wanted to stay with her alone a little longer.

she laughed a little and went back to her own work, fully in the zone again.

you dropped your pencil, and quietly turned in your chair to look at her. her hair seemed to be shining in the light of the room, and her whole body posture was loose, showcasing her love for what she was doing. it felt as though her aura was pulling you in. the thought of looking away from her– looking away from her when she was doing what she loved, looking so entranced, was not a thought that stayed in your mind. you’d rarely seen her this focused on what she was doing, and you selfishly wished for just a second, that all that attention was on you.

“are you sure you’re okay?” she looked back up to you, your eyes burning a hole into the side of her face.

“yep. just enjoying the view.”

she giggled and told you to shut up.

you are definitely going to watch her do this again.

(+1)

“y/n?” chaewon called to you as you held the door open for her, her music and notes in her hands. “i hope that wasn’t too boring for you. i wasn’t really talking to you that much this time.”

“oh no it’s alright! i quite enjoyed the peace and quiet.”

“are you trying to say i talk too much,” chaewon glared sarcastically, a slight smirk playing on her lips.

“who knows what i’m trying to say.” you shrug, falling into step with chaewon as you walked her to her apartment.

the evening sun was setting, but you were still able to feel its warm rays hit your face and body as you stepped forward. the comfortable silence enveloped you two, and you didn’t think much of it.

halfway through the walk, chaewon stopped walking and turned to face you, “look over here.”

so you turned, and the girl in front of you seemed to be looking more ethereal than ever. the sun was framing her face perfectly, her eyes were glimmering, and her mouth was wide with a smile. she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and just stood there, looking at you.

the thought that this was your best friend – someone who you had known for years – didn’t cross your mind as you closed the gap between you two, your lips connecting. you shut your eyes and leaned into the kiss, letting her take the lead. her papers were pressed between you guys, the sound of the rustling entered your ears, but it didn’t stay long as chaewon slowly moved back, opening her eyes slowly.

and as you reached an arm out to pull her back in, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you were a little bit in love with her.

A/N - this is so jank im so so rusty, please forgive me. I hope you enjoyed it though!

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Accidentally On Purpose

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !non-athletic fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: was it really an accident ....

Alright the one shot as promised! I hope you all enjoy it!

For the past two years, Paige and I had been quietly building a life together while keeping it low-key on social media. It wasn’t that we were hiding; we just preferred to let people wonder. The occasional soft launch—her hoodie on me in an Instagram story, my hand visible in her post-game meal pic—had fueled plenty of speculation, but we never confirmed anything.

But this past week changed things.

Paige had sprained her knee during the January 5th game. It wasn’t serious, thank God, but her coach had benched her and banned her from practices to ensure she healed fully. That left her with more free time than either of us were used to, and she spent most of it at my apartment, lazing on the couch with her leg propped up.

“Coach is going to regret this,” she joked one evening as we watched a movie. “I’m getting too used to being pampered by you.”

“Pampered?” I snorted, handing her a cup of tea. “You’ve been milking this injury for all it’s worth.”

“And you love it,” she said smugly, taking the mug and flashing me a grin.

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue. Having her around more often was nice, even if it meant dealing with her teasing 24/7.

By the time January 15th rolled around, Paige was cleared to play in the UConn vs. St. John’s game. She was practically bouncing with excitement, even as I made her promise to take it easy.

“I’m not going to push it,” she assured me, pulling me into a quick hug before heading to campus. “But I’m not sitting out any longer than I have to.”

“Just don’t forget who made your recovery bearable,” I teased, poking her side.

“How could I forget? You’re my favorite nurse,” she said with a wink before disappearing out the door.

That evening, I watched from the stands as Paige played like she’d never been injured. She wasn’t at 100%, but her movements were sharp, her energy infectious. UConn won, of course, 71-45 to be exact and I cheered louder than anyone else as she jogged off the court with her teammates.

After the game, I was scrolling through my photo gallery, deciding what to post. It had been a while since I’d done a photo dump, and I had plenty of new material: blurry candids of Paige from the past week, a shot of my coffee from earlier, and a cute mirror selfie I’d taken that morning.

As I uploaded the photos to Instagram, I included one of Paige and me kissing—something I’d meant to keep private. I was too distracted tagging locations and adding captions to notice until it was too late.

When I refreshed the post, my heart dropped. There it was: a clear shot of Paige holding my face as she kissed me, her other hand resting on my waist. And the kicker? I’d tagged her.

“Crap,” I muttered, staring at my phone in horror.

The comments were already rolling in:

@uconnfan23: OMG WAIT IS THIS REAL??

@basketballbae: so y’all really been soft launching for TWO YEARS??

@team_pucker: someone call TMZ 😭

@kamoreaarnold: I see we got the @trufur run in here

Paige’s name popped up in my notifications seconds later.

@paigebueckers: Are you serious right now??

I groaned, typing out a quick reply.

@yourusername: It was an accident! Calm down 😩

Her response was immediate.

@paigebueckers: Accident my ass. You’ve been plotting this.

@yourusername: Oh, because I’m the one who’s been hinting for two years? Sure, Paige.

@paigebueckers: Don’t deflect! This is a hard launch! A HARD LAUNCH!!

The back-and-forth continued, drawing more attention to the post. Fans and friends chimed in, most of them thrilled by the revelation.

@azzi35: Finally, geez. We’ve all known.

@williamskayla_: Y’all arguing in the comments is the real entertainment here.

@janaelalfy8: @paigebueckers we all knew this would happen someday. You’re just mad you didn’t get to plan it.

By the time I put my phone down, the post had thousands of likes and hundreds of comments. I was half expecting Paige to storm into my apartment, but instead, she called.

“Are you serious?” she asked, her voice somewhere between exasperated and amused.

“Dead serious,” I said, trying not to laugh. “Look, I didn’t mean to post it, but...is it really that bad?”

She sighed dramatically. “No, it’s not bad. It’s just...sudden. We’ve been low-key for so long.”

“Too long,” I pointed out. “And the reaction’s been good so far.”

“I guess,” she said, the smile in her voice now evident. “But if anyone asks, I’m telling them you planned this.”

“Deal,” I said, laughing.

By the next morning, the post had gone viral, with news outlets and fan accounts picking it up. Paige leaned into it, sharing the post to her story with the caption:

"Well, the cat’s out of the bag. @yourusername, you’re lucky I love you."

I reshared her story with my own caption:

"Love you too, drama queen 💕."

From that moment on, there were no more soft launches—just the two of us, unapologetically in love and finally out in the open. And honestly? It felt perfect.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

       -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[buckyownsmylife]

out of the woods (chris evans x famous!reader smut)

the one where Chris watches an interview of you on the Ellen show

Warnings: mention of small stature in comparison to Chris, smut thoughts, Ellen Degeneres trash talking/thinking, cursing, mention of prescription medicine, talk of age gap (reader is younger than Chris), jacking off, daddy kink

WC: 3k

A/N: this doesn't really have an ending, so if you all like it, I might make a series out of it - the idea is that you are also famous (for acting, singing, writing) and have been friends with Chris but there's always this underlying tension between the two of you. It goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: no, he's not married in this story nor do I intend to feature Alba in any part of it whatsoever.

Chris’ P.O.V.

I was scrolling through Twitter when I realized some fans were tagging me in a short video of Y/N on Ellen DeGeneres’ show. I knew she had gone there by herself, mostly to promote her new album, but also to give some publicity for our movie, so I was aware that she would probably talk about me at least a bit… Curiosity got the best of me and I clicked the link to check the video for myself.

She looked gorgeous as always, her hair down in that way I loved so much and her skin seemed to be as soft as ever under the mini dress she chose to wear, her legs stretching out and making her look taller than she actually was. I chuckled, remembering just how small she looked by my side.

I remembered one time when I lifted her up, bridal style, and spun her around the pub we had close to the set, after the Patriots had won a game. Despite not understanding the game, she tagged along and celebrated every time I got excited, like the cute person that she was. I got so transfixed by her giggles back then. They were the sweetest sound and the only thing I heard, despite the fact that we were in the middle of a very loud bunch of dudes. 

I found myself imagining again, as I had then, what it would be like to have her under me, trapped by my arms in bed, or better yet, against a wall, only my thighs securing her in place while I made her moan with my touch. How would she sound? Or, better yet, how would she feel?

Christ. 

Shaking my head, I tried to gather my thoughts so as to not let them stray too far in that direction, something I didn’t have much success in doing, despite the fact that I had been practicing that simple habit every single day since I met her. But it was proving to be a nightmare. She was just far too tempting.

Shaking my head once more, I focused on the video in front of me. My heartbeat had sped up as soon as it started, but I tried to tell myself it was because I was scared for her, since I knew how Ellen could get invasive sometimes.

“So, Y/N…” She started, eyeing my co-star. “You have just finished working on a movie with someone we’re very familiar with, isn’t it?”

Y/N giggled, nodding at the blonde woman. “I suppose so. We have just finished the promotion for it, maybe you guys have already seen it?” She asked the crowd, who went nuts at her. It was sweet to see this kind of feedback, I truly believed in our movie and the fact that I got to know her was just an added bonus.

“For those of you who don’t know what we’re talking about, it’s called ‘Be Here Now’ and it’s currently in a theater near you. Y/N stars alongside Chris Evans, who we love so dearly here, and they play brother and sister as they try to reconnect after their parents' passing.”

More applause at that. I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes at her idea of love. Last time I was there, she made me pretty uncomfortable, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“So, how was the process for you? We know you’re familiar with the filming process, since you star in your own series ‘Evermore’, that sent you to stardom, along with your songs, but you had said before you’d never act outside of it, since your true passion relies on music. What changed your mind?” Ellen sat back as she said that, already comfortable with the fact that something good would come out of this interview, since Y/N had been pretty vocal about what made her decide to do the movie, even with me.

“Chris did, actually. Or, in fact, the fact that he was cast in it.” A chorus of “aws” echoed around the room and there was no way to know if they were real or prompted, but they were quickly interrupted by the host.

“So, you were a fan?” She instigated, as to what Y/N nodded again.

“Of course. Well, my mom more than me, but I was the one who introduced his work to her, so…” She poked her tongue out at the camera, to which my heart (and my cock) jumped in response. “Ever since I got into this, when I first had the idea for Evermore with James, I told him time and time again I would never act outside of this, because I had no intention whatsoever on becoming an actress. I have always been in this for the music. Well, the writing. I’m a writer, I like writing scripts and songs, I’ve fallen into this performer thing by accident. But I’ve always been adamant about the fact that if I ever had the opportunity to act alongside Chris, I’d take it. It doesn’t matter that I don’t think I’m good enough. It didn’t even matter if the script was terrible, which thankfully wasn’t the case, I just really admire him and his work and I would never live with myself if I turned this opportunity down.”

Even though I knew most of this, I couldn’t help but to gloat at the fact that this incredible woman actually admired me. She was so much better than me in so many things, even acting, and she still thought I was great enough to get her to participate in a movie. 

“So, what I’m hearing is, you have a little crush, that’s right?” And there it was. The coup. Of course. That evil wench…

“That’s what you took out of everything I said? Jesus, Ellen, has anyone ever told you that you listen like a man?” Ouch. That one was perfect. Being the ambassador for females and lesbians everywhere, it couldn’t not hurt her, especially coming from someone as angelical, sweet and universally-loved as Y/N. I appreciated the quick second her smile faltered before it became plastered on her again.

“No, I haven’t heard that before… But tell me, have you met any of the other Marvel actors? I mean, granted, there are a lot of them now, but especially those who have worked closely with Chris?” Y/N shrugged at that.

“I have been friends with Elizabeth Olsen for a very long time, we’re very close, but other than that, no. I haven’t had the chance to properly meet, or rather, hang out with any of them.”

“Who’s first on your list?”

“Anthony Mackie,” Y/N promptly responded, getting a few laughs and claps from the audience.

“My, you had that answer ready” Ellen teased, to which Y/N simply shrugged again. 

“We talk through social media sometimes and I know for a fact he’s hilarious. I hope we get to meet sometime. I might just have to bug Chris about it.” She had already, in fact. I couldn’t wait to introduce them to each other and I was already planning my next party just to be able to make that happen.

“What about Sebastian?” Ellen asked, a glinter of something extremely suspicious in her eyes.

“Sebastian Stan? No, we haven’t met, but I’d love to get the chance to someday. He seems extremely sweet and I know he’s very talented and Chris loves him, so I think it’s a matter of time until it happens.”

“I heard somewhere you had a bit of a crush on him, right? Even if you don’t admit that you have one on Chris?” This fucking woman. I could fucking kill her right now. But, to my surprise, Y/N simply laughed.

“Truly, you have got to check your hearing sometime soon, because that is absolutely false.” 

“Really?” Ellen pushed, to which Y/N beamed even brighter at her.

“Positive.” A beat as the two women stared at each other down. “I think what you meant is that I have had a huge crush on his character, Bucky Barnes.” Y/N explained, laughing at the host. “I admit that only happened after I saw Sebastian’s portrayal of him, but my attraction to a fictional character can’t be really connected to him.”

Ellen nodded, obviously not paying attention to anything she was just saying. “Well, let’s figure out who do you actually feel attracted to, shall we? Let’s play fuck, marry or kill!”

The audience screamed and, to my surprise, Y/N didn’t even blink, a patient smile painting her lips as she calmly watched the interviewer. “So, Y/N, between Anthony, Sebastian and Chris, who would you rather fuck, marry or kill?”

Y/N shook her head, still smiling at the older woman. “I couldn’t possibly answer truthfully to this question, Ellen, mostly because I am not capable of feeling carnal attraction to people I have never met, but I can 100% assure you that I would marry Chris without blinking twice if there was a choice.” 

My heart skipped a beat at her words. The crowd went crazy, obviously satisfied with the answer.

“And you’re sure you don’t have a crush on him?” Ellen’s eyes glistened with mischief, as she stared at the younger woman.

“Ellen, I think the question here is… Are you sure *you don’t have a crush on him?” The laughs from the audience was the last thing to come from the video before it stopped, and I found myself echoing them in the silent living room. Oh my, how I missed this girl.

I tapped my fingers nervously on my jean-clad thigh, looking around the room. I had been staying in Boston with my family for the last few weeks, since the movie premiered and we had finished promotion, and I had found myself constantly calling her to share funny stories from my nephews or to hear about her day. I knew she wanted to meet my family, she had always said she admired the fact that we were so close, despite there being so many of us.

My mom obviously loved her, having been a fan of hers long before I even heard about her existence. So what if…? 

Before I could second-guess myself, I pressed call in the name of the woman I had been thinking about. The phone rang three times before she picked up, stopping me from giving up on this crazy idea.

“Hey, Chris! How are you? I missed talking to you, it’s so weird seeing you everyday for four months and then suddenly not at all anymore.” I know I was literally forty, but I literally melted at this girl’s words.

“Did you now? Is that because you wish we were married, so we could see each other everyday?” Her breath hitched as she realized I had seen the video and I could just imagine the cute little embarrassed expression she was probably sporting right now. I tried to ignore the fact that my words and tone of speaking had suddenly become way too similar to when I was flirting with a girl.

“Fuck, you saw the interview.” I had never heard Y/N curse before, so the fact that I suddenly had no control over my mouth could be explained by the unavailability of blood in my head, since it had all gone south.

“Come stay with me for a while,” I spilled suddenly. Silence was the only answer I got from the other side of the call and my heart sped up in a way that only happened when I was truly anxious. I was already cursing myself out for scaring the poor girl when she finally answered.

“Are you serious?” She asked, her voice barely over a whisper. It was obvious how vulnerable she was feeling, and a sense of overprotectiveness overcame me. “Please don’t joke about this, Evans. This better not be a prank. ‘Cause I really do miss you a lot.”

Fuck indeed. There was no way something good would come out of this idea, but there was no way I would go back either.

“Of course I’m being serious. Come to Boston. You can stay with me, but I think my mom is going to steal you before you even settle in.” A large breath came from the other side.

“Okay. Okay! I’m going to pack my bags. Yay! I’m so excited!” She was clearly jumping up and down with the perspective of what was to come, and I couldn’t help the smile that painted my lips not only at her cuteness, but also due to my own excitement at her arrival. 

“Great! I’ll be waiting.” My heartbeat still hadn’t gotten back to a normal speed. “Text me the details of your arrival, I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Chris, I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” I knew what she meant. If someone caught sight of us together at the airport, or even the fact that she was here in Boston, all hell would break loose in the press.

“Shhh, don’t worry about it, baby girl. I’ll take care of it.” I froze, only then realizing what I had just called her. A few seconds ticked by while I silently freaked out, wondering how I could brush this over, when she intervened.

“Thanks, Chris. That was pretty much the best thing I’ve ever heard. I just might forgo my prescription medicine while I’m over there, because you’ve been able to completely relax me with just two sentences.” She giggled and if I was at first leaning towards thinking she was sarcastically teasing me, just by the nature of her words, the tone of her voice made it clear that she actually meant what she had just said.

Once again, I was at a loss for words, especially because I couldn’t help but to allow myself to imagine that this was her, flirting with me a little bit. The blood I so desperately needed in my brain had once again left to pump another organ full of life. I was saved from having to answer, though, as Y/N quickly wrapped up the conversation.

“I’ll text you the details of my flight in a little bit. See you soon, angel.” She hung up before I could process the nickname she had given me. 

“Fucking hell,” I whispered, finally relenting and getting up from the couch to take a shower to rub one off.

I had found myself in this situation more times than usual after meeting Y/N. Normally, I’d only do it out of boredom, preferring to fuck someone whenever I’d get sexually frustrated. But the last few times I had taken girls from parties into my bedroom, I could only see her. Y/N. And I hated how disgusting I felt after it was done, the fact that I didn’t care about the girl I just fucked and the fact that I imagined my younger friend.

So now I resorted to this kind of activity. As the warm water started to hit my body, I allowed my right hand to travel the extent of my body until I found my hardened member. “Fuck,” I found myself whispering into the bathroom as I tugged on my cock. Images that I had spent a lot of time concocting in my head flashed in front of me, all of them starred by Y/N. 

I imagined her nude body here with me, under the falling water. How her breasts would heave with every breath she took. Would she be as filled with desire for me as I was for her? I imagined the path the warm droplets of water would run across her skin and how I wished I could lick its remnants. 

Maybe she’d fall to her knees before me, looking up from under her eyelashes with that coy expression that drove me crazy. Her lips would softly kiss the tip of my cock and she’d still be watching me, analyzing my reactions. I would do my best to restrain myself, allowing her to get accustomed to my member, but my hands would eventually find their way to her wet strands, creating a makeshift ponytail that would facilitate my vision of her work while I still managed to control myself and not use it to guide her.

She’d kiss the skin all around my cock, quick little kisses just to tease me before going further down to suck on my balls. I’d throw my head back, begging her to do what I needed, and she’d finally succumb, wrapping her lips around my tip before slowly sucking further down my dick. She’d be relentless, eventually being able to swallow my whole member down her throat, and I would look down again to see her looking up at me with a proud gaze in her eyes.

“Such a good girl,” I would whisper, just before I finally snapped, using my grip on her hair to pull her from my cock until just the tip remained tightly squeezed by her lips, until I pushed her all the way against me again. “Take this fucking cock like the little perfect girl you are for daddy.”

And she’d take it like a pro, a satisfied smile on her lips as I fucked her mouth, eventually breaching into her throat, making her gasp for air, tears in her eyes as her hands flew to my hips in an attempt to slow me down. But she wouldn’t really, opting for simply carving her nails on my flesh as she took every single rope of cum I’d deposit between her eager lips.

Fuck. I let the water wash away the sin I had just committed while sending up a prayer for better control when Y/N arrived. The last thing I needed was to be stuck in the bathroom, touching myself while she was at my house.

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER THREE

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur wc: 7.3k notes: same shit, different chapter, masterlist, content warnings, place name backstory stuff. not my favorite chap but lots of paige & tess content so hopefully that makes up for it being boring af 😸 hope we enjoy 🫶

‘Prepare for Take Off! Tess Kennedy and Paige Bueckers Share Sweet Goodbye in Crowded Airport’

Tess Kennedy and Paige Bueckers have been a trending topic ever since Wednesday morning when fans speculated that Bueckers flew out to support Kennedy during her ACL recovery. In that time, Kennedy and Bueckers have shared a total of five pictures to their Instagram stories, each becoming more and more obvious as to who they are spending time with. Kennedy’s most recent story included a photo of her injured leg in the lap of (you guessed it!) a faceless individual, though just a half hour later, both Kennedy and Bueckers were pictured together at the Columbia Metropolitan Airport.

Onlookers said that Bueckers and Kennedy were attached at the hip, all smiles as they navigated the busy airport. Before Bueckers boarded the plane back to Connecticut, she and Kennedy shared a sweet hug before they pulled away. One commenter said that they seemed to share a few words, then Bueckers was off. Another commenter noted a sort of sadness etched on Kennedy’s face as she lingered. She seemed to be deep in thought. While, obviously, we are not in the business of being mind-readers, it is clear that Kennedy had some strong feelings about Bueckers leaving. In the short three days they have been seen together, their bond is evident, and fans are anxiously awaiting their next interaction.

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

MAY 6, 2023

Tess is nursing a cup of half-melted ice when the FaceTime call from Paige comes through. It’s nearly startling – she’d been scrolling TikTok for the past hour, trying to distract herself from literally everything. It was difficult at first. Her feed was mostly basketball related things and huge think pieces about her and Paige – people seemed to think that Paige was saving her, which was ridiculous. It took about thirty minutes and countless refreshing, but she’s sure she successfully factory reset her algorithm. She was seventeen parts into a pirated movie and it was nearing the good part when Paige’s contact photo took over her screen.

She accepts the call, forgetting to control her face. “Hey! Woah, who pissed in your Cheerios?”

Paige’s voice flows through her airpods and Tess corrects her scowl, popping another ice cube in her mouth. “You did. I was watching Hidden Figures on TikTok and you interrupted me.”

Paige’s brows furrow dramatically. Tess takes the moment to study her screen, noting the headboard behind Paige and the dim lighting. She’s wearing a pair of glasses that sit low on the bridge of her nose, and judging by the blanket furled around her exposed shoulders, Paige must have just rolled into bed. “My bad, jus’ thought you would wanna talk to your girlfriend or sum’ after a really long plane ride.”

“It was like, four hours,” Tess states, rolling her eyes, though there’s a lingering fondness.

The blonde hums, shifting. “Try four hours and one minute. I sat next to this old guy and he snored the entire time. Like, I had my airpods in and everything and here comes Thomas the fucking train engine and shit. And in case that wasn’t bad enough, none of my teammates could pick me up so I got an Uber home and the driver just kept yapping about how South Carolina destroyed UConn’s last year.” 

Tess nearly chokes on an ice cube as she laughs, much to Paige’s chagrin. “Yeah? How’d that make you feel?”

Paige narrows her eyes at her. “Stop gloating.”

“I’m not!”

Paige waves her hand, kissing her teeth before refocusing. “What’s with the ice cubes?” she asks.

For a moment, Tess considers playing it off. She doesn’t want Paige to think of her any differently if she admits the truth about it. She was slowly getting used to feeling guilt all the time, but she was wholly unprepared for the amount of shame weighing her down. Thinking about the fact she drank herself into an alcohol dependence – not addiction; she is not addicted and that’s a hill she’s willing to die on! – is humiliating. Tess would never lord anyone else’s struggle over their head, but it’s different with her. She’s still not sure how to give herself the same grace and compassion she’d give others. Her Uncle Gio had his fair share of alcohol issues, though he was also a war veteran; Tess understands why he’d turn to drinking, but how could their issues ever compare?

She recalls the promise she made to Kam and Bree, to herself, to Paige before she boarded the plane. She gave Paige her word that she wouldn’t do this alone, so she sinks into her pillows and confesses. “The ice cubes distract me from, you know, wanting to drink. Feels like it kills the urge a little bit – I don’t know. It’s probably fucking up my teeth, but better those than my brain and my liver, right?” She tries to mask the discomfort with a laugh, but it sounds dry coming out of her mouth.

Paige’s eyes soften. “Whatever works, right?” she says. “As long as you ain’t replacin’ it with like, chain smoking?”

Tess rolls her eyes, appreciative of the sentiment, but also Paige’s humorous approach as it takes some of the pressure off. “No chain smoking here,” she vows.

The blonde is silent for a moment. “When’d they start?” she prods. “The urges. If you wanna talk about it.”

Tess contemplates her words for a moment. Paige has given her an out, but at this point, she’s not sure if she wants to use it. “Thursday night. Couldn’t sleep at all. I wanted to drink so bad. So I stayed up, ate ice, and watched TV. I was honestly in the trenches but you know…that happens when you drink for a month straight and then suddenly stop.” When she glances down at her phone screen, Paige’s eyes are laser-focused on her, absorbing every word. Tess cracks a small smile. “My first therapy appointment is on Monday, so I’ll see what my therapist suggests. I’m pretty sure the urges will be here to stay for a couple weeks. Sounds more like a fact of life than anything else, I guess, but if push comes to shove, I’ll get Kam to tie me to the bed so I can’t run away.” Paige smirks and Tess rolls her eyes. “Chill!”

“I wasn’t even gonna say nothin’!” Paige exclaims. Tess shakes her eyes, though she can’t keep the smile off her face. “For what it’s worth, ‘m proud of you for, you know…thuggin’ it out.”

Tess grins. “‘Thugging it out?’” she asks in disbelief.

“I’m being genuine,” Paige says with an eye roll. “I’on know what you’re going through besides the knee. I understand that it’s not easy, though. Everyone thinks I’m like, your knight in shining armor or some bullshit, but you don't need me. Yeah, you got me and I’m here to support you, no matter what. But I’m not saving you or anything. You’re doing that yourself. And I think that’s really cool.”

Tess chuckles, trying to ignore just how touching Paige’s words were. “Don’t get sentimental on me now.” She wipes the tear beading at her waterline, and when she glances down, Paige is smiling at her.

“Alright,” she concedes. “I won’t say anything nice ever again.”

“You?” Tess mocks. “Saying nice things?”

“Fuck off,” Paige says. Her words lack heat and her smile brightens. She runs a hand across her jaw, as if deep in thought. “So, about the airport.” Tess raises a brow in what she hopes is nonchalance, trying to keep her nerves at bay. She’s been trying to push it deep into the recesses of her mind, but it’s clear Paige has other plans. “Was it…okay? Like I didn’t make you uncomfortable or nothin’?”

“Paige,” Tess deadpans, smile widening in amusement, but it does little to hide the flush on her cheeks. “It was a hug.”

Paige scratches the back of her neck. “I mean…it – nevermind, forget it,” she says, her voice trailing off.

“It what?”

Paige shakes her head, pushing her glasses further up her nose. “Nothing, don’t worry,” she says, flashing an easy grin, but something in her expression betrays her image of comfort. “Just checking in with you, s’all. Wanna make sure we’re selling the story, yeah?”

Right. The story. Reminding herself that this was all fake is somehow the only thing on Tess’s mind, but she still manages to forget about it at the worst moments. Trying to mask the foreign feeling burning a hole in her gut, she hums. “I think we’re doing a good job. Have you seen those articles on Bleacher Report?”

Paige nods, the tension on her face dissolving. “A couple, yeah.” Her smile turns smug. “D’you actually look sad when I boarded?”

Tess throws her head back with a heavy sigh. “Paige–”

“C’mon, you don’t gotta hide it,” she says teasingly. “Coulda chased me, begged me to stay, all that cheesy romcom shit.”

“Chase you?” Tess guffaws. “First of all, with whose knee?” Paige snorts, tilting her head as if to say, touche. “Second of all, I don’t chase. I have too much self-respect for that.”

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a laugh bubbling in her throat.

Tess narrows her eyes. “I’m hanging up on you.”

“You won’t.” Tess raises a brow, pressing the red end call button. The silence hardly lasts three seconds before Paige is calling back. Tess answers with a shit-eating grin. “Don’t do that shit to me again,” Paige says, indignant.

“Who’s chasing now?” Tess asks smugly. 

Paige rubs the back of her neck again, having the decency to look caught, but she smiles at Tess regardless. “I’mma let you go take a nap,” she declares. “Let you sleep off this attitude.” Tess shakes her head, but her smile turns fond. “Call me after your appointment tomorrow, okay? Lemme know how it goes…if you feel up to it.”

Tess’s face softens. “Sure.” Tess bites her lip in contemplation. Before she has the chance to chicken out, she clears her throat. “Um, I just wanted to say thank you. For….” Tess’s voice trails off, unable to put to words how much Paige’s support has kept her sane for the past few days.

The lighting in Paige’s room is dim, but Tess can distinctly see the way her smile reaches her eyes, the way she understands what Tess is trying to say. “No need to thank me,” Paige says. “Just focus on getting better.”

Tess flashes one last quiet smile. “I will.” With a final farewell, the line clicks dead, and Tess leans back on her bed, releasing a long sigh.

Fuck.

MAY 8, 2023

Sunday passes by in a blur and Tess finds herself awake at 6am Monday morning. Sunday was chill – with nothing better to do, she spent the day (to no one’s surprise) binging more TV and working through some of Craig’s recommended independent PT exercises. She even treated herself to a solid hour outdoors, which, as popular opinion suggests, actually does wonders for your mental health.

She tries her best to ignore the intrusive thoughts at the back of her mind, urging her to go back on her promises. They become less and less appealing as the hours tick by. Sleep slowly becomes easier, though she’s unsure if she should attribute it to finally taking care of her leg or losing the fog that used to cloud her brain.

Just a week ago, Tess was rolling into bed at dawn, well past drunk and in body shuddering pain. Now, she’s on her sixth day of sobriety and genuine rehabbing, and she holds a different kind of hope for the future that she’d never felt before. There’s a small part of her that’s terrified to feel too positive about the days ahead of her considering it’s hardly been a full week, but she can’t help but feel like things are finally shaping up. And at this point, the only thing standing between her and that positive future she can’t stop thinking about is literally her.

Deciding to put a little extra effort in on Monday morning, she forgoes her usual sweatpants and opts for leggings. Between her brace and her knee, she wasn’t quite ready for jeans, but she figured leggings were at least a step up. Tess fully commits to her skin care, fixes her hair in a simple half-up half-down style, and even sends a sweet ‘good morning’ text to the team group chat – although Tessa, her almost-name twin, immediately responds and tells her to ‘take her ass back to bed.’ Tess sends the middle finger emoji and decides they are never seeing her be kind again.

She eats breakfast with Kamilla and Bree, who wish her luck for PT and her first therapy appointment. When she checks her phone for the time, she finds a couple of messages from Paige, which immediately warms her chest.

Morning Tess 🫶 Sent you a lil gift for PT It’s prolly outside your door Be nice to Craig and your therapist

Confused, although she feels inexplicably touched, she slides on her shoes, grabs her crutches, and with a final goodbye to Kam and Bree, exits their apartment. She’s careful when opening and closing the door so she doesn’t damage whatever Paige has sent. A grin slowly spreads across her face when she sees that it’s a cup of coffee tucked into a Starbucks bag. She snags a quick picture of it before carefully leaning down to pick it up. She sends the photo to Paige, leaning against the wall.

so this is actually insane

Just looking out for the people who gotta deal with you No more cranky Tess

did you order yourself something too since you’re ‘dealing with me’

Yeah lol

The selfie comes quickly – a photo of Paige with her lips wrapped around a straw in a coffee cup. She’s throwing up a peace sign for the camera and her face has an obviously smug expression. Tess can’t help the slight flush she feels, so she opts for reacting to the photo with a thumbs-down emoji.

have i mentioned how insane you are

You could start by saying “Thanks for the coffee” or something like that Wait you can post it on your story I didn’t even think about that

i feel like this was your plan all along

It wasn’t Swear I did it out of the kindness of my heart

somehow you just made it even more unbelievable

Believe what you want I got you coffee Post it on your story, be nice to people, and call me later

so bossy

Learned from the best Talk to you soon 🤩

Tess rolls her eyes, but she can’t keep the stupid ass grin off of her face as she swaps over to Instagram and shares the picture to her story. She ponders the caption for an embarrassing amount of time before writing, ‘845 miles away but still sending shit to my door.’ She hits post and slides her phone back into her pocket before walking to the trainer’s office for her PT.

When she arrives, Craig greets her warmly and they get right into it. He takes her brace off and unwraps her knee. Then, he leads her through some of their typical knee exercises, pausing in between for a cooldown where she ices her knee as he explains what their new recovery timeline should look like. As long as she does what she needs to, she likely won’t need her crutches anymore after two and a half more weeks of good behavior. In a couple months, her PT will change course entirely. They’ll begin introducing hydrotherapy and strength building exercises. For the past few days, she’s been working on the range of motion ones, so she’ll end up alternating and mixing the two somewhere down the line. Come February, she should be cleared for full contact practice. If all goes well by March, she should be able to play in full just in time for the last few days of the tournament season.

PT wraps up and Craig rewraps her knee, tightening her brace around it and sending her off with a kind smile and words of encouragement for her therapy session. Given that the university’s counseling center was across campus and Tess was not fucking with that walk, Amaya made arrangements for the psychologist to meet Tess in the athletic facility since she’d be there already for PT. She checks her phone for the room number that Amaya sent her (dutifully ignoring the Instagram notification reading ‘Paige liked your story!’) and makes her way down the hall to the office room.

Tess opens the door to find a shorter woman shuffling papers around on a desk. She looks up as the basketball player walks in, immediately flashing a beaming smile and sticking her hand out for Tess to shake. “Hey! You must be Tess.”

Tess shifts her weight, shaking her hand and returning a quiet smile. The psychologist has wavy, chestnut brown hair and kind brown eyes that have been softened by the passage of time. The crow’s feet and laugh lines on her face provide Tess with a sense of security, reminding her of a distant aunt who used to liven up the room. “Guilty as charged.”

“I’m Dr. Flanigan, but Yvette is just fine. Please, have a seat.” Tess pulls out the chair, slowly lowering herself into it, cautious of her knee. Yvette motions to the adjacent chair. “Would you want to prop your leg up? It might be more comfortable for you that way.”

Tess hesitates, but the comforting expression on Yvette’s face has her worries washing away. “Sure, please,” she says, and the older woman nods as she adjusts the chair and helps lift Tess’s leg to the elevated position. Almost instantly, some of the tension leaves her body and Tess sighs in relief.

“Perfect,” Yvette says, mostly to herself. She takes a seat in her own chair and begins looking through a couple of papers. “So, I see you’ve had quite the month.” Her words aren’t judgmental, just humorous, and Tess can’t help her snicker.

“Something like that,” she agrees.

“But you’re here now,” Yvette muses, sliding a pair of glasses onto the bridge of her nose. “That’s the hard part, isn’t it? Opening yourself up to receive help, putting aside your pride for long enough to realize you need help. I’m proud that you’re taking these steps.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice,” Tess jokes.

“You did,” Yvette says gently. Her eyes sparkle. “Your team gave you an ultimatum, but you could have said no, right? But here you are. It’s early, but you’ve already made so much progress in terms of rehabilitation. Can you share what your mental state has been like since Wednesday?”

Tess pauses to think about her words. Yvette doesn’t push her. Tess releases a breath of air, shifting, before responding. “I’ve been kinda all over the place, I guess. I mean, it was a complete 180 – I showed up to the meeting hungover and by the end of the day, I’d done PT, cried a couple of times, but like, my mind was also clearer… in a way? When I was doing what I was doing, sure, I was conscious of my own destruction, but sitting in front of a bunch of other people and having them tell you that you’re destroying yourself was different. It put things into perspective. Then…around Thursday night, the urge to drink started hitting, so I spent the entire night eating ice cubes and losing my mind.” She glances at Yvette, whose head cocks. “Um, losing it figuratively. It was really hard but I don’t think I was actively crashing out.”

“Perhaps the feeling was more like a battle with yourself for control?” Yvette asks kindly.

Tess opens her mouth, puzzled, then closes it. Damn. Yvette is good at her job. “Exactly like that,” Tess admits. “My body wanted it, but I didn’t want it. I felt like I was being pulled in two different directions – the pull was so strong. I sat for hours convincing myself that I knew what my body needed and not the other way around.”

“That’s a huge part of understanding and processing alcohol dependence,” the psychologist says. “The mentality. Treatment doesn’t always require medication – one of the most common ‘treatments’ is cognitive behavioral therapy, which helps people change unhelpful thinking patterns and reactions. A popular approach is what we call the recognize-avoid-cope method. Recognize your triggers, whether external or internal; avoid tempting situations, and cope with the triggers you can’t avoid.

“So, our two types of triggers – external and internal,” Yvette continues, and Tess listens to her every word. “External refers to your environment. Perhaps a person, place, thing, or time of day. You said your urge manifested at night time?” Tess nods. “For people who drank mostly at night, night time could be an external trigger. Your body gets used to drinking at this certain time, right? Internal triggers can be tricky. Many people struggle with identifying where they come from because they appear to come out of nowhere. However, these triggers can be set off by fleeting thoughts, responses to feelings. I believe in your case, an internal trigger could be a pain response from your knee, yes?”

Tess flushes. “I feel like you’re in my head,” she admits, drawing a laugh from Yvette. Some of the tension diffuses.

“Now that we know what to look for when we face that urge to drink, we can address it appropriately,” Yvette says. “It’s difficult to avoid internal triggers, so we just have to cope with them. Avoiding external triggers are more obvious. You may benefit from avoiding a bar or the liquor section in the grocery store, but you can’t avoid night time. This is where coping comes in. For you, chewing ice cubes was an effective distraction – perhaps one your dentist won’t agree with –” Tess chuckles, “– but it’s that idea that we want to work with. I struggled with alcohol dependence when I was your age. Meditation and yoga helped me out a lot, although those may not work for you considering your knee injury. The good thing is there’s a lot of healthy alternatives. Work on a hobby, talk to someone, take a hot shower – if it works for you and it’s not harmful, then it’s a good method! Remember, it’s all mental – if you feel the urge, challenge it. Find the error in your thinking and replace it. Remind yourself why you’re making this change to not drink. Ride it out. Urges are normal, but they’re temporary; they will pass.”

Yvette’s words leave Tess in a contemplative silence. Tess doesn’t think this first session was supposed to be anything revolutionary – Yvette literally just told her something she could have figured out from a Google search, but the psychologist's words just hit a little different. It’s similar to how she knew she was hurting herself after her injury but hearing it from Amaya, Diana, and Coach Staley rerouted the wiring in her brain.

Yvette gazes at her, calculating, before offering a small smile, like she understands that her words have hit home. She shuffles around her papers again. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to discuss your mental health history and your anxiety medication?”

That, Tess could answer without feeling like her world is going to flip upside down. She and Yvette discuss lighter topics for the remainder of their session, such as how long she’s been taking lexapro regularly, what it was like when she fell off schedule before and after her surgery, and previous psychiatric history. Yvette suggests other coping mechanisms for regulating her anxiety. Prior to the injury, Tess’s main source of relief was basketball; now, she has to figure out what else she could do with her life that doesn’t include sports.

Feeling as though a weight is lifted off her shoulders, Tess thanks Yvette for her time. Yvette sends her off with another gentle smile – and on her walk back to her apartment, Tess can’t help but feel like she’s on the right track.

Tess calls Paige later that day after she’s finally settled into bed. After some light stretches, she presses an ice pack to her knee as she waits for Paige to pick up her call. She doesn’t wait too long before the line clicks through and Paige’s face fills her screen. The blonde is laying in bed, her hair in a bun, presumably, but Tess’s eyes catch on the headset she wears and the familiar frame of glasses. She can see the reflection of the TV through her lenses and Tess raises a brow. “Bad time?” she asks, thinking Paige may be occupied.

“Nah, ‘course not,” she says. “Gimme a sec – I’ll hide in a bush.”

Tess laughs, hearing the slight clicking of a controller before Paige turns her attention to her fully. Tess didn’t grow up with siblings, but she did have many cousins with whom she was very close with – if there was one thing she learned, they rarely paused or stopped playing their games unless it was an emergency or their mother was yelling. “What are you playing?”

“Fortnite,” Paige admits shamelessly.

“So, she flirts like a twelve-year-old and plays games meant for one,” Tess muses.

Paige rolls her eyes. “Shut up, it’s fun. You play?”

“Nope,” Tess says. “Never got the appeal.”

“Dude,” the blonde says in near disbelief. “I got to put you on. Wait, do you even have a PS5?” 

“Do you think I do?” she asks. “I’ve done literally nothing but basketball for almost fifteen years.”

“Gotta fix that,” Paige sighs. “Buy one and hop on Fortnite with me. Boom, new hobby and I get a duo.” The blonde grins at her through the screen, excited at the prospect, and Tess finds herself more accepting of the thought the more she thinks about it. Tess opens Amazon, scrolling through the console options and accessories, and Paige notes her sudden silence. “Wait, are you actually gonna get one?”

Tess shrugs a shoulder, smiling slightly. “I mean, might as well, right? I do need a new hobby and I don’t have a lot of options.” She adds the console to her cart as well as a controller, not giving it a second thought before she’s checking out. “Should be here tomorrow.”

Paige pumps her arm in the air, cheering. Tess can’t help but grin at her excitement. “You won’t regret this. Trust. We’re gonna run Fortnite like the navy.” Tess rolls her eyes good-naturedly as Paige adjusts her phone, flashing another smile. “So, what’s up with you? How was PT and therapy?”

Tess hums. “PT was the same as always. Still a little early to tell, but Craig says if everything goes according to plan, I should hopefully be back in time for the last month of games. Thinking about playing again is literally the only thing keeping my head on straight, so I just have to get my shit together for, what, ten or eleven more months? Easy peasy.”

“You’ll be back on the court before you know it,” Paige says confidently. “Do what you gotta do, but don’t lie just so you can play earlier. Don’t fuck yourself up.”

“Careful, Paige – keep saying nice things and I’ll think you care about me.”

“In your dreams,” the blonde says with a smirk. “Just want you at 100% when we play y’all in March Madness. I won’t have as much fun if I gotta drop 30 on Kamilla instead of you.”

Tess rolls her eyes. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Sharks.”

“Shit.”

“Sharks!”

“Sharks – god dammit.”

Paige grins gleefully as they both dissolve into fits of laughter. As she calms, she can’t help but stare at Paige, at the way her face scrunches and the unfiltered joy that permeates her expression. Tess hates how she softens ever so slightly, how any conversation with Paige is enough to collapse the walls she spent so long building. Tess has always been a little caustic, perhaps blunt to a fault, too sarcastic and so uncomfortable in showing affection. But there’s something about Paige that rounds out those edges. She feels like she can be honest; although vulnerability is still a difficult task, she finds that stomaching the thought is a little easier when Paige smiles at her. “So, therapy?” the blonde repeats, her tone light but not pushing her.

Her words drag Tess out of her thoughts. She shakes her head, as if trying to break the thoughts apart. “It was…informative.”

“Yeah?” Paige asks, interested. When Tess looks back at her screen, she can see the slight furrow in Paige’s brow, the look of concentration. Tess averts her eyes, feeling her face burn.

She hums, gathering her thoughts. “Basically, I just have to rethink my approach to drinking. Like, recognizing triggers and either just avoiding or coping with them. I do think I have to find something other than the ice. I bit into a chunk weird earlier and almost cried cause I thought I broke my tooth.” Paige snorts. “Not funny.” She raises her hands, grinning, and Tess sighs. “Being emotionally vulnerable is exhausting. I wish I could go play basketball and ignore most of my feelings.”

“Well, not to mansplain, but–”

“I know, I can’t actually avoid them,” Tess grumbles. Paige laughs again, and the sound is infectious enough that Tess can’t help but smile. “It’s barely been a week but I feel like…okay again. Is that a weird thing to say?”

“Nah, I get it,” Paige says. “You will be okay, though. You just need to believe it.”

Tess nods, leaning back in her bed and picking mindlessly at a loose thread on her blanket. “I think I do. Like, it doesn’t feel like the end anymore. I know that I need to put in a lot of work, but at this point, it’s a new opportunity to compete, but against myself, right? I can do that.”

“You can,” Paige affirms. “And you will.” She speaks so casually, as if Tess’s recovery is something that is already gone and past. Like it’s more truth than manifestation. When Tess smiles, Paige adds in a softer voice, “I know you can.”

“...Thanks, Paige,” is all Tess can muster. She tries not to think about it too much – Paige is so close to being fully healed from her own ACL tear. She, more than anyone else in Tess’s life currently, knows what that process is like, how the mental anguish affects you, how debilitating the pain is most days. Paige knows what it’s like to survive that. The sheer confidence, the belief that Tess can survive it means more to her than Paige will probably ever know. “Your turn, though. How’s, uh, Storrs?”

Paige shoots her a scandalized look. “You say that like Columbia is any cooler.”

Tess laughs. “Well, it’s no Brooklyn – but you know damn well that UConn is the only reason why Storrs has any relevance.”

“I’m startin’ to wonder if there’s anything you like about me,” Paige grumbles.

“I like it when you’re quiet,” Tess says.

“You called me!”

“I like it when you say the sweetest things,” Tess continues, purposefully ignoring Paige. “Like when you say I’m full of sharks or when you said we were star-crossed lovers because Caitlin broke my ankles.”

Paige huffs, trying – and failing – to hide the frown on her face. “You should not be talking about other women when you’re on the phone with your girlfriend. That’s like, relationship rule number one.”

Tess stares at her before erupting into laughter despite the warm, foreign feeling in her stomach. “Are you jealous?”

Paige rolls her eyes, but she angles her phone so Tess can’t see the flush creeping up her neck. “Chill. I’m jus’ saying – wait until that lady from Bleacher Report hears that you’re steppin’ out on me.”

Tess can’t hide her amusement. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Paige seems to forget about her earlier words as she grins proudly. “Been told a time or two,” she chirps.

The South Carolinian guard shakes her head fondly. “Okay, for real. What’s new with you?”

Paige shrugs. “Nothing much, but me and the team’s getting together later tonight ‘cause everyone’s heading home for the summer at some point this week. I’m flying back to Minnesota Thursday morning. You goin’ home, or…?”

“Haven’t thought about it much, honestly,” Tess admits. “My mom called on Sunday and asked if I was, but I’m nervous about flying with the knee and I’d feel bad having my parents drive down twelve hours just to pick me up. I could easily do Zoom or some shit with my therapist, but I feel like I really need good and consistent PT, so I’m not sure if I’d want to leave Craig.”

Paige raises a brow. “You live in Brooklyn, right? That’s where the Liberty is. I saw Sabrina in your comments – you could see if she could get you in touch with their physio.”

Tess laughs, mostly out of shock and because of the absurdity of the offer. “Do you really think I could cold call Sabrina Ionescu and be like, ‘hey, my knee’s fucked, I was wondering if you could see if your team physio would be willing to take over my rehab while I’m home?’”

“Uh, yeah?” Paige says like it’s obvious, her face contorting in confusion. “Have you not been online? Anytime Sabrina’s asked about college athletes or the future of the W, she’s always gassing you up. She might be in love with you, lowkey.”

“You better not be bullshitting me,” Tess says, opening her browser and Googling as Paige huffs dramatically. “You think she’d leave her man for me?”

“Rule number two, Tess Alessandra,” Paige reminds her. “No seeing other people on the DL. And you thought I couldn’t handle it.”

Hundreds of articles appear on her screen. Tess feels something tighten in her chest, even as she jokingly retorts, “It’s Sabrina Ionescu – I couldn’t pass that up.” She opens the first article, eyes scanning the headline as it reads, “Sabrina Ionescu On Tess Kennedy: ‘The Perfect NCAA Shooting Guard.’” Tess’s eyes nearly bulge out of her head, her shock only growing the more she reads.

“D’you seriously not know?” Paige asks curiously.

“No,” Tess answers, and it was the truth. “I stay far away from most basketball reporting and social media. Draft discussions always make me nervous and people always look for a story where there isn’t one. I’m here to hoop, not for someone to debate whether or not I’m the second coming of basketball Jesus.” She reads more, feeling both pleasantly surprised but also touched by how many kind things Sabrina Ionescu had to say about her – it was one thing for her to reach out after her ACL tear, but it’s incredibly flattering to know that she’s had someone like Sabrina in her corner all this time and she never knew it. “Do you really think they could do that?” Tess asks again, referring to their physio situation. “Like, they’re in preseason right now. I feel like their physio needs to focus on making sure their team doesn’t tear their ACLs.”

She watches Paige shrug through the screen, a tender sort of smile on her face. “Doesn’t hurt to ask, right? Plus, I got Husky connections – I can get Stewie to put in a good word.”

“You need to chill, I’m being so for real right now,” Tess says, narrowing her eyes. “You do not need to talk to Stewie for me.”

Paige is quiet for a moment, as if fully grasping what Tess is saying. “I won’t if you don’t really want me to,” she says after a lot of contemplation. “Don’t wanna fight your battles for you, but you know…if I can help, just lemme know.”

“I appreciate that,” Tess says, her voice a lot softer. “I’ll think about it.”

The blonde grins again. “No pressure.”

“So, excited to see your family?”

Paige leans back against her headboard, her grin turning fond. “You have no idea. I feel like Drew grows so much while I’m gone. He’s my little brother. Or was. He’s like a medium brother now.”

Tess can’t help but laugh at Paige’s words. “Yeah? Was he the one who put you on Fortnite?” she teases.

“You act like I can’t make choices for myself,” Paige says indignantly. “I actually put him on.”

“You see how that’s like, worse, right?”

Paige glares at her dramatically, but Tess can easily see the amused smile on her face. “You’re a D1 hater. It’s insane.”

“Been told a time or two,” she says, mirroring Paige’s earlier words, and they both dissolve into fits of laughter. “Do you–”

She’s cut off by the sound of a knock at Paige’s door. The blonde pulls off one airpod, turning to look at whoever’s walking in. “Hey, Lili and I are going to the store to pick up some stuff for tonight – you wanna come?” Tess is unable to place the voice, which doesn’t surprise her, but she watches the hesitation flash across Paige’s face. “Ohhh, are you on the phone with your lady friend?”

“Lady friend is crazy work,” Paige grumbles, which causes Tess to laugh. Paige glances at her screen again, as if studying Tess’s face for a reaction.

“Go hang out with your friends,” she tells her, knowing Paige is the only one who can hear. “Don’t let them think I’m the obsessive girlfriend who doesn’t let you hang out with other people.”

“If the shoe fits,” the blonde teases. Tess rolls her eyes at Paige’s smirk and she feels something simultaneously soften and break apart inside of her. That’s an issue to face another day. “I’ll text you later, okay? Make good choices.”

“Always,” Tess says innocently. Paige’s smirk melts into something more tender before she bids Tess one last goodbye and ends the FaceTime call. Tess exhales, staring at her phone screen, where her and Paige’s earlier text conversation remains. It all feels a little fast, but she can’t deny that she feels so incredibly comfortable with Paige. Sure, she and Paige bicker a lot, but she knows it’s all in good fun and she enjoys their banter and how Paige keeps her guessing. It’s the same way she is on the basketball court, but Tess recognizes something different in their little game: Paige’s slight acquiesce, the natural pauses in any of their conversations where Paige seems like she’s seeing Tess in a different way, understanding her in a way that’s beyond surface level. 

It’s a double edged sword. Being known is terrifying. From a basketball perspective, the understanding that comes with knowing your opponent’s every move manifests in quick interceptions, knowing how to guard them on their favorite wing. On a personal level, being known opens you up to those same vulnerabilities. By now, she knows Paige better than that and she trusts that Paige wouldn't go out of her way to hurt her, but it’s hard to escape the thought that by letting Paige into her life and under her skin, she’s effectively arming her with her insecurities and shortcomings.

But at the same time, she’s letting Paige in, and it’s new and scary because nobody outside of Kamilla has ever wanted to look further. Tess has probably curated that issue herself — she keeps her teammates close enough that they’re privy to only 75% of her; that last 25%, each and every ugly thought or feeling or trait she’s ever had is kept so far away from them and Tess herself. Now, between her knee, her therapy and PT, and the whole situation of having to be Paige’s fake girlfriend, she’s suddenly faced with having to show someone a lot more than 75%. And it’s fucking frightening because Paige is getting to know Tess at her worst; although she doesn’t exactly have the option to run, she’s trying to be closer to Tess despite it all. Tess has spent so much of her life being afraid of the day the mirror would shatter and she would have to face the parts of herself she didn’t like. Knowing that she’s still here now, learning to love the girl in between the fractures, and that Paige has a heart big enough to not be offended by the scrapes and the nicks and the lacerations that come with handling something sharp and broken, fills her with an amalgamation of feelings. She’s hopeful, but she’s fearful and hesitant; she’s confused but so incredibly grateful. 

So, she takes Paige’s advice and reaches out to Sabrina on Instagram. Tess isn’t alone in this. Between her teammates, her friends, her trainers and coaches and mentors, and now the women in the league, there’s so many people in her life that want to help her succeed if only they’d let her. Sabrina’s response comes 15 minutes later — she’d actually been in the trainer’s office getting her wrist checked out when she got her text. Sabrina said their head athletic trainer, Theresa, would be more than happy to take over her her PT while she’s back in Brooklyn, but obviously they would have to work around the Liberty’s game schedule. They would still be able to upkeep Tess’s three times a week requirement, and honestly, that was good enough for her.

Sabrina’s next message came in after Tess said her thank-you’s, reading:

No problem at all! Super proud of your progress and I can’t wait to see you on the court again. Let me know whenever you’re cleared, I would love to shoot around with you sometime

She decides she’d text Paige later, maybe let her know she was right if she felt like listening to her endless gloating. But she smiles as she texts her mom, telling her that she’s got another trainer lined up if she and her dad would be able to make the drive down to South Carolina. 

We’ll be there about noon tomorrow to pick you up, piccola, no drive is too far

Then, feeling both hopeful and excited, she texts Amaya to let her know she’s going home for the summer but that she’ll maintain her PT and therapy sessions, to which Amaya responds with a simple thumbs up emoji that makes Tess immediately regret her thoughtful message. She lets Kamilla and Bree know she’s going and they remind her they’re both a call away if she needs anything. Tess packs most of her things before settling back into bed to relax. 

She texts Paige later that night, shortly after midnight when she should have been well in bed, but she was struggling to sleep. Her thoughts were racing, but they were more positive than anything. She was excited to see her parents; she hadn’t really talked to them since her surgery. They had a lot to catch up on. She was anticipating the arrival of her Playstation, feeling unnaturally stoked to play Fortnite of all things, though a smaller part of her that she was slowly coming around to knew she just enjoyed her time with Paige, anyway. Unable to sleep, she writes:

you can say i told you so now the liberty’s trainer will take over my PT

I told you so Does this mean you won’t be gaming with me?

ill see if i can fit you into my schedule me and sabrina are super tight now 🤞

Don’t play with me.

don’t worry paigey you’re still my one and only

Better be Have a safe drive tomorrow 🫶

Tess sends back a single heart emoji, putting her phone on its charger and staring up at the ceiling. After a beat, a slow smile spreads across her face, and she can't help but think that she's making the right decision by letting Paige in.

[sanakimohara]

[ GAME OVER ] Pt.2 Y. J. + K. S.

pairing: jeongin + seungmin + fem! reader

summary: Scared of a little tag-team from your killer best friends or secretly obsessed with the thought…

type: headcannons \ set plot \ finale

playlist:

warnings: smut + nsfw + mdni + blood + gore + cnc + descriptions of violence + drugs + creampies + oral + blood kink + knife play/kink + degradation / manipulation + spit kink…

authors note: this’ll be intense and I know a lot of you wanted a part 2 but I just never got around to it so here you go! It’s nearing my favorite time of year so why not give you guys a little taste of what’s to come in my future projects.

Stalker/Ghostface Jeongin decides blackmail is the best way to handle you. “Couple of pictures…” he mutters, moving and positioning you around in his bed in precarious and provocative positions while Seungmin lazily clicks the ‘capture’ button on his phone. Your clothes never leave your body, and both agree to the limit, but Jeongin finds it hard to resist seeing you lying in his bed, unconscious and utterly clueless. He’d always been more than irritated by how perfect you seemed: good grades, college sweetheart to the masses, and the dean’s only daughter. Everything you did and said somehow equaled perfection, and part of him wanted to ruin that for you in some sick way, but Seungmin played devil's advocate on your behalf, convincing the younger there’d be a better way to corrupt you. “Patience is key,” he mumbled, passing Jeongin’s phone back to him and pocketing his own. The younger scoffed, scrolling through the scandalous photos Seungmin had taken once before glancing at you, still entirely passed out with a frown tugging at his lips. “You take the fun out of everything, hyung….” He groans quietly, unable to hide the slow smirk spreading across his face, seeing your body shudder involuntarily.

Stalker/Ghostface Seungmin is the first person you see the following day. He shows up at your dorm just as your shared peers start to leave campus. You’re startled to hear a knock on your door so late in the evening. Having missed classes all day in hopes of remedying the unbridled exhaustion you felt. Still groggy and dealing with a debilitating migraine for most of the day, after a night you barely remembered, you force yourself to peel out of bed and answer it. “Oh…hey Min…” you mutter, hiding behind the door as he smiles at your hesitant greeting. Of course, you’d be more cautious after last night -he’d been counting on it. “You okay…? You weren’t in class, so I thought…” Seungmin trails off, plain concern written across his face as you search it with tired and apprehensive eyes. When you don’t spot a hint of falsity or hidden unease in him, your gaze softens, and you offer him a small, weary smile. “I’m fine…I must’ve drunk more than I thought last night at your place..” Seungmin chuckles, casually stepping through the doorway when you step back to let him inside, “Yeah, you did…Jeongin brought you back here since I passed out during the movie. I’m glad you’re alright, though..” He watches you process the explanation. Your brows slightly furrow in confusion before they relax, and a relieved look replaces the tense one. “Thank god, I thought…” you gulp, unable to formulate a way to explain the foggy assumptions you’d been having all day about the night before. You weren’t sure if explaining your doubts to him would seem ridiculous or accusatory. Seungmin didn’t give you time to consider which option was best, offering warmth and his company for the rest of the evening to distract you. He doesn’t leave until the middle of the night, aiding you to sleep but taking off when you’re passed out. Jeongin waits for him right outside your door, trading the spare key to your dorm. Seungmin swiped from the bottom drawer of your dresser with a newly cleaned knife and leather gloves. “Ready?…” Jeongin whispers, tucking the key into his pocket as Seungmin nods and slips the gloves on. “She’s completely out of it. Convinced her she got drunk last night, and you took her home…” Jeongin ticks his head, stifling a laugh, “Perfect.” Seungmin smiles, taking the mask he offers and slipping it on with natural ease, “Let’s have a little fun tonight..”

Stalker/Ghostface Jeongin makes the first call. Phone to his ear, voice changer switched on, and mask pulled down over his face. He waits alone in your dorm’s tiny kitchen, leaning against the counter and listening to the muffled sound of your phone ringing through the bedroom door. You pick up on the third ring, half asleep and tempted to curse whoever interrupted your much-needed rest. “Hello?!…” you hiss out, brows knitting together, and your voice doused with grogginess. You wait for a response, annoyed by the permeating radio silence on the other end of the call. A slight grimace clouds your features, quiet curses leaving your lips, “Fuck, is anyone there? Hello?!” You snap, looking at the time on your phone to be sure you aren’t cursing someone out at the break of dawn. Luckily, it’s only half past 3 in the morning, and you feel less guilty for being so agitated by the unexpected call. That is until pure fear penetrates you, injected straight into your head as a distinct and distorted voice scratches through the phone. “Look who’s finally awake,” Jeongin utters on his end, unable to keep the smile off his face, hearing you inhale sharply and frantically shuffle around in bed. “Who…who the fuck is this?!” Your heart drops as the question flies out of your mouth, quietly echoing in the dark, “If this is a prank, I swear to god-“ Jeongin laughs, a stiff and short sound that leaves your chest twisting with anxiety. “A prank? No. A game? Yes.” He flips the knife in his free hand, balancing its hilt in his palm each time it lands in his grip. He counted your breaths before speaking again, enjoying how each shuddered and ran into the next. You were terrified already. That much was clear to him. “I’m not interested in playing….” You finally speak up, glancing around your darkened room as if casing it for an intruder. The precaution was useless, nonetheless. It was completely pointless, even when Seungmin and Jeongin stood outside your bedroom door. “Ah shit, really? And to think I had a perfect prize for the lady if she won.” Jeongin lets out a dramatic sigh, head turning in Seungmin’s direction, “You’d think a smart girl like you would want to know what she’s missing out on before she turns a good time down…”

Stalker/Ghostface Seungmin scoffs underneath his mask, leaning against the wall bordering the left side of your bedroom doorway. He hears you shifting in bed, the momentary pause of fear you take while debating getting out of it. One quick trip out of your room to grab a thick carving knife, and you’ll feel much more at ease. You mustered up the courage to leave, tiptoeing out of bed and shuffling towards your bedroom door. “Listen, if you don’t leave me alone, I’m going to call the cops and let them deal with you-“ Seungmin hears Jeongin sigh loudly, free watching from across the room as he tucks an arm under the other, “You are no fun, huh? Guess we’ll just have to give you a reason to play.” “A reason?….” You swallow hard, feeling your skin crawl at his sinister implication, “What…. What's that supposed to mean?” Seungmin listens to you pant the words out, hearing you leap from bed in a frenzy to sprint into the kitchen, watching you freeze, and hearing Jeongin gliding his knife across your marble countertops.

The silent screeching echoed, driving the frantic pace of your heartbeat as the crackled voice you’d been conversing with rang loud and clear with it. Seungmin smirked under his mask, listening to your breaths slow and your footsteps halt around the hallway corner. “Call them.” Jeongin taunts you, taking slow steps towards the wall that separates you from his sight as he continues, “I. Dare. You.” Each word is punctuated with a knife’s tip-tapping against the wall, catching your attention and bringing stinging tears to your eyes. Seungmin stifles a laugh when you sniffle, picking up on the panic rising in your every breath.

Whoever was in your dorm would get their hands on you before the police even processed your call. You could run for it, somehow get past them, and run out into the middle of campus in the dead of night and search for help, but then there’d be the risk of them catching you before your hand reached for the door. You settled on the next best option: going back to your room and locking yourself in it and hopefully being safe enough there to call and wait for the cops. Yes, that you could do, and with a sharp inhale, you gathered the resolve to do it. “Fuck you and your game,” you seethed into the phone, spinning around, poised to hang up the call while rushing back to your room.

Stalker/Ghostface Jeongin steps past the edge of the corner, the phone still pressed to his ear and his smile growing a grin, watching you come face to face with a masked Seungmin. “And just like that, you’ve lost the first round..” He snickers, ending the call and laughing when you stumble backward, shaking and shivering as Seungmin corners you into his chest. You jump in shock, feeling a second broader, warm body press into you from behind, a forceful shove from Jeongin’s hand to your wrist knocking the phone from your grasp and sending it crashing into the wall before it shattered to the pieces on the floor near the two pairs of clad black boots caging in your stocking covered feet. Jeongin hums as your head slowly lifts to stare up at him, tilting back at you as his gloved hands raise to muffle the terrified screech that tears through your throat seeing him. You choke as thick leather seals over your mouth and nose, gagging quietly when Jeongin’s grip tightens enough to knock your head back into his shoulder while he purrs against the shell of your reddening ears, “Don’t be a sore loser, Y/n..”

Stalker/Ghostface Seungmin huffs, tired of watching the younger have so much fun toying, drawing your attention his way with a nudge of his knife-cold edge to the heated skin of your throat. “Guess that means you owe us a prize…” he muses, smiling to himself when you start to struggle as best you can in Jeongin’s hold, glancing between the steel pressed to your neck and the masked men holding you captive. The pure fear in your eyes stirs Seungmin’s ego, bringing out a laugh from him that chills and enthralls your nerves all at once. You’d heard that laugh before -or at least you thought you had- even beneath the distortion, it stood out to you. Charming and full of life, even if it came at the expense of your life being in its owner's hands. Seungmin settled down when you went still, a flicker of recognition in your expression warming his heart just a tad before calloused obsession hardened it again. He gave a curt nod to Jeongin, retracting the knife from your throat as the younger lifted you from the ground without another word.

Stalker/Ghostface Jeongin drags you into your room, not minding how much you scream and kick and toss around to try and rip your way out of his hold. He refuses to let you go, keeping your screams and whimpers quiet until Seungmin closes your bedroom door and locks it behind him. Your nails claw at him, attempting to pierce through his black clothes to harm him in any way you could think of, but Jeongin takes your frantic scratching with a smile. He settles on the edge of your bed, sitting you down in his lap and holding you there with an arm wrapped tight around your chest. You whine and scramble to lift off of him, chest burning as another failed scream dies in your throat. “Just give the fuck up already..” Jeongin hisses into your ear, groaning when you shake your head in refusal, unconsciously rocking your ass against his crotch the harder you struggle. Your legs tremble, tensing up the harder you fight, and nearly numb by the time he shifts his arm around your chest, letting his hand linger over your breasts, caressing each one until your nipples peak through the thin fabric over your oversized shirt. You shiver, not used to the rough scrape of leather on your body or the combined strain of being groped by a strange man while another one watched from less than a foot away. Jeongin savored the softness of your chest, palming a handful of the tender flesh until your frantic breathing slowed into hesitated moans. “There we go, baby….just enjoy it…be the slut I know you are,” Jeongin mumbles amid a groan, tempted to lift his hips into you as your back arches to chase the warmth of his heavy hands. “Fuck…! Look at her…” he calls to Seungmin, the voice on the edge of a disbelieving whine as the older continues to watch him feel the expanse of your body. You give up fighting then, feeding off the air of desperation he exudes, falling head first into the need for more hand trails past your breasts, over the center of your stomach, and right down to the middle of your thighs.

Stalker/Ghostface Seungmin watched your legs spread open for Jeongin’s hand, biting his lower lip behind the mask as the younger cups your cunt before landing a light slap to it. You jolt at the contact, crying into the hand over your mouth and throwing Seungmin a pleading look -begging him to give you way out despite your body telling him the complete opposite. He sighed, cracking his neck, closing the distance left between you, just as Jeongin dealt your covered cunt another slap. You keened from the harsh treatment, groaning loudly as the sudden affliction made your walls tighten around nothing and your head fog with shame. “Thought you’d be a little harder to break,” Seungmin scoffs, fisting the hair at the crown of your head to drag it back and make you look up at him. You whimpered, drooling into the glove around your mouth, eyes watering from the thrill and shock running up your spine as he tugged you from Jeongin’s lap to kneel at his feet. You meant to scream the moment you could breathe again but were kept silent with the prick of a blade sliding under your chin and a quiet warning from him. “Scream, and I’ll slit your pretty little throat…” You cringe as the knife drags across your skin, drawing a thin line of blood and inducing a sting of pain that snaps your drooling mouth shut. Seungmin hums in approval, cock jumping at the sight of your blood trickling down the edge of steel and the apprehensive obedience in your eyes as they stare up at him. Your heart thunders with adrenaline, threatened and disconcerted by the promise of being hurt but forced to confront the leaking tip of his length at the very exact moment. The sound of metal clicking and shifting through fabric loops comes from behind you, but Seungmin keeps your focus right on him, easing your pouty and damp lips around the head of his cock, moaning softly under his mask as you tentatively relax your mouth to take him in inch by inch. “Knew you’d be good at this…” he pants, hips slowly rocking against your face, sinking his throbbing shaft to the back of your throat despite your soft gagging and reluctant moans. The knife at your throat flexes with every rut of his hips, dangerously digging into your skin while he fucks your mouth with little remorse and reckless abandon.

“Told you she would be, “ Jeongin moans loudly, voice carrying over the sound of your muffled choking and whines around Ssungmins cock and the slick squelches of his pulsing member sliding in and out of a closed fist. Seungmin grunts, gazing down at you through his mask, mouth slightly agape and brows knitted together as he watches you sink your head up and down his length. Strings of saliva and precum trickle down your chin, mixing the tears streaming down your cheeks and drizzling into the small droplets of blood trailing along your neck to your chest. He curses under his breath, fist tightening in your hair as warmth flows from chest straight into the pit of his stomach, “I’m gonna fucking cum if she keeps up like this….” You shudder at the comment, threatened but proud you’d put him in such an agitated state. A part of you wanted to savor it, to fully enjoy the way his cock filled your mouth, to revel in the excitement you felt when the muscle twitched against your wandering tongue. You wanted to admit you liked the way he was using you, forcing you to accept whatever he graced you to have, even if he was pressing a knife right to your throat as he fucked it.

But then you’d be just as sick as him, just as sick and twisted as the both of them.

Stalker/Ghostface Jeongin is fine watching you be used, pumping his cock to the view of your trying your hardest to match Seungmin’s pace and keep his knife from cutting any deeper. God, you were a sight to see, too; hands twitched at your sides, eyes fluttering and rolling, and face a flushed mess. His hand slipped up and down faster, motivated by the trembling moans and cries you let out. Jeongin watched in vague awe as Seungmin stiffened, hips stuttering towards your face and coming to a complete stop as the corner of your lips began to leak with cum. “Swallow…” the older huffed, holding your head back to get a good view of you obeying his command. Jeongin stares in a daze as you down the creamy substance, sticking your tongue out to show a clean palette. The fight in your eyes dims then, replaced with a distant satisfaction when Seungmin releases you from his hold and drags you to your feet. With one shove, you’re pushed to bend over the bed's edge, barely catching yourself with shaking hands and mindlessly shifting to crawl away from both. But you’re nowhere near fast enough or in the right mind, too dizzy to stop Jeongin from retaking hold of you. “Don’t cheat,” he mumbles, forgetting the task of stroking himself to stand and catch your ankle in one hand while the other grips your waist. “Can’t take one of us and run from the other,” he scolds you through a quiet laugh, ignoring the small yelp and sob you emit when he roughly drags you towards him. “Just let me go…please,” You fist the covers, panting through hot tears and sniffling. “I…I promise I won’t tell anyone-“ “I know you won��t tell anyone about this…about us…” Jeongin tuts, hands finding your shivering hips, smoothing the fabric of your shirt upward until your panties were on full display. Your breath catches in your throat, cool air sweeping over the glistening wet patch spreading on the thin cotton, and your head spinning from the lack of compassion in his response. Jeongin tilts his head thoughtfully, muttering under his breath as he pulls your panties to the side and admires the slick folds of your cunt. “We know you can keep that adorable mouth of yours shut..” A whimper spills from you, partially anxious at his implied threat and partially emitted, feeling a warm line of his spit leak straight onto your entrance. Jeongin watches his saliva coat your folds, holding your shivering body still as it mixes with your arousal and drips onto your bedsheets. “Wouldn’t want to waste this good of a pussy anyway..”

Stalker/Ghostface Seungmin is already hard again, watching Jeongin sink into you, pleasuring himself in your cozy desk chair as the younger one holds you face down in your bed and fucks the decency out of you. Moaning into his mask feels suffocating, and the desire to get a clear view of you breaking to pieces clouds his better judgment. “Can’t fucking take it,” he growls, ripping the mask off his face just out of your blurred sight and inhaling a sharp breath as the excellent air filling with the smell of sex fans over his face. He doesn’t care that Jeongin laughs at him between his moans, caring even less that he follows suit and tosses his mask onto the bed near your head. “She feels so good, hyung…” he hears him pant, pumping his cock faster at the statement and the indecipherable cry you let out at the one-sided compliment.

Their voices sounded familiar to you now, but it couldn’t be them, could it?…

Your lovely Jeongin who always listened when you needed someone to talk to. Who forced you to go out and have fun when you studied too hard for too long?

Your practical and dependable Seungmin, who always didn’t mind being your study partner. Who brought your favorite snacks and drinks to class when you missed lunch with him?

These two strangers using you so shamelessly…

They couldn’t possibly be them, right?

Stalker/Ghostface Jeongin doesn’t give your body or mind enough of a break to make the connection, mumbling one sick thought after the next into your ear as he neared his end. Your core twisted and winded, hungry for the constant pressure his cock imprinted into your cervix, delving deeper and deeper into you until his body shuddered above yours. The scratch of his nails and the blooming prints of his fingertips digging into your hips mixed with the burning cuts along your neck paling in comparison to ecstasy that racked your body as thick ropes of his cum filled you. “A-ahngh! Please…please, not there!” You whine and wriggle beneath him, torn between rolling your hips for more and pulling away from him. Jeongin tangles a hand through your hair, slamming your head back down into the pillows as he finishes inside you. “I think you need a little more,” he hums, beginning to fuck his cum more profound into your cunt, grunting when your walls contract around him from the sudden overstimulation. “Don’t want it…” you whisper, blushing as the pit of your core swirls with pleasure from every movement he makes. Jeongin bites his lip, glancing at Seungmin to reiterate, “I think she needs a little more, hyung..”

Stalker/Ghostface Seungmin is more than ready to take Jeongin’s place, addicted to seeing the fear on your face when you realize his knife is pressing to your throat again. You’re practically paralyzed with fear as he fucks the younger’s cum into you until his own adds to it. You cling to the covers, vision blurred, head spinning, and body sore by the time Seungmin slides his cock out of you. He drops the knife on your bed, confident that you’re too fucked out to make a move for it and satisfied with the amount of marks he’s left on you. “Never thought she’d be such a slut,” he chuckles, glancing at Jeongin as he picks up the discarded weapons stained with your blood.

“The good ones always are, hyung…”

authors note: …u-uh….so did I go to far or…are yall okay?…..

other links: n/a

[ bonus content ]

I s(C)reamed- DONT LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT I KNOW YOU DID TO- 🤨🙂‍↕️ Credits to creator 🖤

[jaeyunluvbot]

possibility

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 angst, seungmin is kind of a dickhead, poor y/n, seungmin x fem!reader

word count 𝟅𝟈 5.3k

NOT PROOFREAD

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The apartment feels eerily quiet, except for the faint sound of Seungmin’s voice coming from the bedroom. You’re curled up on the couch, blanket draped over your shoulders, staring blankly at the paused movie on your tv. The half-empty mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table has long since gone cold.

This has been your routine for weeks now—waiting. Waiting for Seungmin to finish his meetings, his calls, his endless planning for the comeback. You understand. You’ve always understood. Being an idol is demanding, and he’s worked so hard to get where he is. But lately, the understanding has felt heavier. Lonelier.

Tonight, this feeling is especially prevalent, with Seungmin having promised you he’d have the night open specifically for you, no work calls or meetings. You’d been overjoyed at this news, planning a movie marathon for the two of you, a way to reconnect after weeks of distance. 

The night had been exactly what you needed, a relaxing evening with the love of your life who had finally cleared up his schedule enough to make time for you. Except, the love of your life was currently on a surprise work call, speaking in a clearly frustrated tone in the other room.

You scroll through the photos on your phone, lingering on one from a few months ago. Seungmin had a shy smile on his face, holding up a peace sign while you snapped the picture. That was before the chaos of schedules consumed him—back when there was still time for dates and lazy mornings in bed.

You hear the creak of his door opening and perk up instantly, setting your phone down. Seungmin walks out, a notebook in one hand, his hair messy like he’s been running his fingers through it all day.

“Hey,” you say softly, your heart lifting just a little at the sight of him. He doesn’t respond, heading straight to the kitchen.

You follow him, watching as he rushes around the apartment, looking for his keys and wallet. “Wanna finish the movie?” you ask, leaning against the counter.

“Hm? Oh, I can’t, Chan needs me to re-record a few lines for the title track,” he mutters without looking at you. 

Your stomach twists. “You’ve barely had a break all day, Seungmin. Don’t you think it can wait until tomorrow?”

Before he can respond, his phone buzzes again. He picks it up, reading the message with a frown.

“I really have to go,” he says abruptly, finally finding his wallet and keys, which had been tossed haphazardly on the kitchen counter when he arrived home earlier that afternoon.

“What?” you ask, your voice rising in disbelief. “It’s almost midnight!”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” you ask, following him to the door, wanting desperately to beg him to stay for once. “It’s so late, Seungmin. You need rest. Can’t someone else handle it?”

“My lines aren’t right for the track, I have to fix them,” he says, slipping on his shoes.

“Please,” you say, your voice cracking. You reach for his hand, but he doesn’t stop moving. “Can’t you stay? Just tonight?”

He pauses, just for a moment, his back to you. Then he sighs. “I really can’t, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He opens the door without even looking back, leaving you standing in the middle of the room. He doesn’t kiss you goodbye.

The sound of the door closing echoes in the empty apartment. You let out a shaky breath, the weight of his absence pressing down on you. Crawling into bed feels like defeat, and the sheets are cold without him beside you.

You understood that his job depended on this, and that he was a perfectionist to his core, always criticizing his own work, no matter how good it was, but you had thought that maybe he could finally put work aside to spend the night with you. Clearly, this was a foolish thought, or wishful thinking, but you thought that your three-year relationship was important to him, now you weren’t so sure.

As you get ready for bed that night, your mind is plagued with thoughts of Seungmin, of the good times the two of you had once shared. You crawl into your empty bed, the cold sheets reminding you again that he would always put his job over you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next morning, you move through the rhythms of your daily routine, getting up, showering, and cooking yourself breakfast. The act is painful, as you’d usually cook for both you and Seungmin, and you find yourself getting two mugs out of the cabinet without thinking, another ache shooting through your body as you remember that he’s not here and that he never came home last night.

Your day at work isn’t any better, with grades being due soon and kids trying to turn in late work for extra credit so their parents wouldn’t be mad at their report cards.

The only semblance of relief you get is when your coworkers join you at lunch, chatting happily as you grade papers and projects, distracting you from what’s going on at home.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You’re just finishing your shower when the sound of the door unlocking catches your attention. You glance at the clock—6:00 p.m. Seungmin steps in, looking exhausted, his hoodie wrinkled, and his bag slung lazily over his shoulder.

He doesn’t say anything right away, just sets his things down and heads toward the kitchen.

“Hi,” you say softly, following him. “You didn’t come home last night.”

“They kept me late,” he replies, opening the fridge. “I crashed at the studio.”

You cross your arms, leaning against the counter. “You could’ve at least let me know. I was worried.”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” he says with a shrug.

“Not a big deal?” Your voice rises slightly. “You didn’t even kiss me goodbye when you left, and then you just… don’t come back? Do you know how that feels?”

He sighs, shutting the fridge without taking anything out. “Y/N, I didn’t have time to think about it. Work is crazy right now.”

“Work is always crazy,” you shoot back. “It’s always your top priority, Seungmin. Always.”

“Because it has to be!” he snaps, finally turning to face you. His face is a mix of frustration and exhaustion. “Do you think I can just slack off? This is my career, Y/N. It’s not optional.”

You feel a lump forming in your throat, but you push through. “I’m not asking you to slack off. I’m asking you to care about us as much as you care about your job. To care about me.”

His jaw tightens, his voice colder than you’ve ever heard it. “Some of us have actual jobs, Y/N. We don’t all get to hang out with a bunch of kids every day. I have to provide for us.”

The words hit like a punch to the stomach. Your breath catches, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. He’s never talked to you like this before.

“That’s what you think of what I do?” you manage to whisper. “You think my job isn’t important?”

He groans, rubbing his temples. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes, you did,” you say, your voice trembling now. “You know how insecure I’ve always been about my career. About how little I make compared to you. You’re supposed to be the one person who doesn’t look down on me for it.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. “You always put your job first, Seungmin. You never think about how it feels for me to be left behind all the time. And now this? It’s like I don’t even matter to you anymore.”

“That’s not fair,” he says, his tone defensive. “You don’t understand the pressure I’m under. I’m trying to keep everything together, and all you do is cling to me like I’m supposed to fix everything for you.”

You flinch at his words.

“I’m sorry being with me is such a burden to you,” you snap, your voice breaking.

He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t do this right now. I’m going to the dorms.”

Your heart drops. “What?”

“I need space,” he says, grabbing his bag again. “I can’t handle this right now.”

“Seungmin,” you say desperately, stepping toward him. “You just got home. When are you coming back?”

He hesitates at the door, not looking at you. “I don’t know. I just… I need to think.”

And then he’s gone.

You stand there in stunned silence, the apartment suddenly feeling impossibly empty. You sink onto the couch, wrapping your arms around yourself as the tears come.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next few days are a blur. You try to keep yourself busy, filling the emptiness with noise and routine. Work becomes your refuge, the chatter and laughter of your students a temporary distraction from the heaviness that lingers in your chest.

You smile at your coworkers during lunch, laugh at jokes you barely register, and nod along to their conversations. To anyone else, you look fine—maybe a little tired—but fine.

But the truth is, you’re unraveling.

The apartment is too quiet now, each room a reminder of his absence. His toothbrush is still next to yours in the bathroom, his favorite hoodie draped over the back of the couch. The silence is suffocating, and every time you catch yourself glancing at the door, hoping he’ll walk in, the ache in your chest deepens.

At night, it’s worse. You lie in bed staring at the ceiling, the space beside you cold and empty. You clutch his pillow, trying to hold on to the faintest trace of him, but it’s not the same. His hoodie having lost his scent from how often you’d been wearing it in his absence.

When Felix texts you to check in, asking if you’re okay, you respond with a cheerful, “Just busy with work! How are you?”

And when Han calls, his voice warm and teasing, you force a laugh, telling him everything is fine.

But they’re not convinced.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

One evening, you’re cleaning up after dinner when there’s a knock at the door. You open it to find Felix and Han standing there, both holding plastic bags filled with snacks.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying to sound surprised, though the sight of them makes your heart clench with relief.

“Just thought we’d check in on you,” Felix says, his tone light but his eyes searching yours.

Han holds up the bags. “And bring supplies for a movie night. Unless you’re busy?”

You shake your head quickly. “No, I’m not busy. Come in.”

They settle on the couch while you grab drinks from the fridge. You can feel their eyes on you, their concern unspoken but heavy in the air.

As the movie plays, Felix nudges you gently, offering a gummy bear. You take it with a small smile, grateful for the distraction. Han cracks jokes throughout the film, his energy infectious. For a while, you almost forget the weight you’ve been carrying.

But when Felix casually drapes an arm over your shoulders, you stiffen, the familiar comfort of his affection too much to handle. You pull away slightly, pretending to adjust the blanket.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice low enough that Han doesn’t hear.

You nod quickly. “Yeah, just tired.”

He doesn’t push, but you catch the glance he exchanges with Han.

After they leave, the loneliness sinks back in, an unwelcome, but familiar feeling. You curl up on the couch, clutching your phone, your thumb hovering over Seungmin’s contact.

You want to text him, to ask if he’s okay, if he’s coming home, if he still wants this.

But you don’t.

Instead, you put the phone down and stare at the ceiling, wondering how things got to this point. The pit in your stomach only growing when you think about how long it’s been since he’d spoken more than a few words to you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Seungmin sits on the dorm couch, his head tipped back against the cushion, eyes closed. The weight of exhaustion settles heavily on him—physically, mentally, emotionally. Work had been relentless lately, and though he knew he should feel relief at finally being back in the dorm, the quiet nagging in his chest wouldn’t let up.

The sound of a door opening pulls him from his thoughts, and Chan appears, a towel slung over his shoulder, fresh from a shower.

“Yo,” Chan greets, pausing when he notices Seungmin’s expression. “What are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home with Y/N?”

Seungmin exhales sharply, sitting up straight. “I’m staying here for now. Work’s been...hectic, and it’s easier to be closer to the studio.”

Chan narrows his eyes, leaning against the doorframe. “That’s a load of crap, and you know it.”

“It’s not—”

“Nope, stop.” Chan cuts him off with a hand. “I’ve known you long enough to see right through you. What’s really going on?”

Seungmin doesn’t respond immediately, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “We had an argument,” he mutters.

Chan raises an eyebrow. “Okay, and? Arguments happen. Why are you avoiding her instead of fixing it?”

“It’s not that simple,” Seungmin snaps, his voice harsher than intended. “I just... I needed space.”

Chan sighs, crossing his arms. “Look, I get it—work’s a lot right now, and relationships aren’t always smooth sailing. But avoiding her? Leaving her alone while she���s probably upset? That’s not right, man. You’re better than this.”

Before Seungmin can respond, the front door swings open, and Han and Felix step in, their energy noticeably different than usual.

Felix places a bag of leftover snacks on the counter, avoiding Seungmin’s gaze, while Han throws himself onto a chair with a pointed huff.

“Something wrong?” Seungmin asks cautiously, his brow furrowing.

“Not with us,” Han says, voice clipped. “But Y/N? Yeah, she’s not doing great, if you even care.”

Felix doesn’t say anything, but the disappointed look he shoots at Seungmin feels sharper than any words.

“What do you mean?” Seungmin’s stomach sinks, his voice softening.

“She’s hurting, Min,” Felix finally says, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “She’s trying to hold it together, but it’s obvious she’s struggling. She misses you. We can see it.”

Han leans forward, his expression uncharacteristically stern. “You should’ve seen how she lit up when we showed up. Like we were giving her air after she’d been holding her breath for days. And even then, she barely touched us. You know how she usually is—always clinging to us.”

Felix nods. “But not now. She’s pulling back, trying not to be a burden because you made her feel like one.”

Seungmin’s jaw tightens, shame creeping up his spine. “I didn’t mean to make her feel that way.”

“Then fix it,” Han says bluntly. “You’re the only one who can.”

Chan chimes in, his voice quieter but no less firm. “You’ve got to decide what’s more important, Seungmin. Work will always be hectic. That’s the nature of our job. But Y/N? She’s not always going to wait around for you to figure it out.”

“The comeback is so close, it’s only a few weeks, I’ll make it up to her after promotion is over.”

Chan rolls his eyes, “What if she’s not there in a few weeks? What if she gets tired of waiting for you to get your shit together? Then what?”

Seungmin inhales sharply, abruptly standing up from the couch and tossing the blanket on the floor, “I don’t need this from you all, I’m just trying to do what’s best for the team.”

Seungmin then leaves the living room, storming into his bedroom, and slamming the door behind him with a force that makes the walls shake. He stands there, panting, hands clenched into fists at his sides. His heart races, blood pounding in his ears.

He can’t believe the audacity of the guys. Han and Felix had no right to be upset with him—he’s the one who’s been working nonstop, the one who’s been carrying the weight of the comeback, and they don’t understand that.

They’re taking her side, Seungmin thinks bitterly. They don’t even know what it’s like, how much pressure I’m under.

He throws himself onto the bed, his anger turning to frustration. The guilt is there too, gnawing at him, but he shoves it aside. It’s too much to think about now. He needs to focus on work.

But no matter how hard he tries, his mind keeps drifting back to Y/N. You haven’t messaged him, called, or done anything that would make him feel like you're still holding onto him, and for some reason, that stings worse than he thought it would.

The thought of you—alone, without him—is almost too much to bear.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next few days pass in a blur. Seungmin tries to push through the exhaustion, but it’s impossible. He’s barely functioning at work, his focus slipping during practices, missing notes during recording, and forgetting his lines. His energy is drained, and his usual sharpness has been dulled by the mix of stress and guilt.

At one point during a practice, Chan pulls him aside, his face uncharacteristically stern. “Seungmin,” he says in a low voice, “you’re not performing at your best, and it’s affecting the group. You need to stop and get your head straight.”

Seungmin opens his mouth to argue, but Chan cuts him off. “No, you’re not doing any more work until you fix whatever’s going on in your head. Go home. Rest. You’re burned out, and you can’t keep pretending that everything’s fine.”

Seungmin’s jaw tightens in defiance, but he knows there’s no point. He’s never seen Chan like this before—so firm, so sure. Reluctantly, he nods.

He returns to the dorm, barely dragging himself to his room before collapsing into bed. The silence in the place is suffocating, and he feels his frustration build once more.

Felix and Han avoid him completely. When he passes by them, they don’t make eye contact, don’t greet him. The tension is unbearable.

He can’t stand it.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

After a few days of aimlessly rotting in bed, Seungmin finds himself sitting at the kitchen table, staring down at a half-empty cup of coffee. The weight of everything is crushing him.

Felix and Han are in the living room, talking softly, but Seungmin knows they’re talking about him. He can feel the way they avoid him, the way they give him pitying glances when they think he’s not looking.

Finally, Han breaks the silence, his voice calm but unwavering. “You know, Seungmin, we tried to warn you.”

Seungmin looks up, his eyes flashing with irritation. “What are you talking about?”

Felix doesn’t even look up from his phone, his tone clipped. “You’ve been acting like an asshole. You can’t just shut out Y/N because you’re stressed, especially not after everything she’s done for you. You pushed her away, and now you’re both suffering.”

Seungmin feels the sting of their words, but he doesn’t let it show. He scoffs. “And what? Now you’re all going to take her side?”

Han meets his gaze with a level look. “No, we’re not ‘taking her side.’ We’re just saying—before she was your girlfriend, she was our friend. We care about her, and we don’t like seeing her go through all this because of you.”

Felix finally looks up, his expression tight with frustration. “She’s been putting on a brave face, but we know it’s tearing her up. She misses you, and instead of working it out, you’re here moping like you’ve been wronged. You’re the one who fucked up, Seungmin.”

The words cut deep, far deeper than Seungmin expects. His chest tightens, and for a moment, he’s at a loss. The guilt from all the tension and unresolved feelings crashes over him, but the anger he’s been holding onto keeps him from fully letting go.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

Han stands up, walking over to the table, his expression softening slightly. “Well you did, and you can’t expect us to ask her to wait for you when you haven’t made any effort to keep her.”

Felix nods in agreement. “Obviously, we don’t want you two to break up, but why should she sit around and wait if you won’t even check on her and let her know you care?”

Seungmin looks down at his hands, feeling embarrassed at their words, despite knowing deep down that they were right. He fucked up, but now he’s in so deep that he doesn’t know how to fix it.

Seungmin’s chest tightens with each passing second, the weight of everything finally hitting him all at once. The guilt, the anger, the frustration—it all comes crashing down. His eyes sting, and before he even realizes it, tears begin to form.

He lets out a shaky breath, trying to steady himself, but the emotions he’s been bottling up are overwhelming. The anger he had towards you, the defensiveness, the fear of being vulnerable—it all seems so insignificant now. His mind goes blank, and he feels like he can’t breathe.

Felix and Han look at each other in shock. This isn’t the Seungmin they know. He’s always been one to push his issues away in front of other people, and he certainly hasn’t ever cried in front of them like this.

Seungmin’s voice cracks as he finally speaks. “I don’t know how to fix this,” he says, his words barely a whisper. “I don’t know how to make it right. I’m terrified she’s going to leave me.” He wipes at his eyes, as if that could make the feeling go away, but it doesn’t. “I fucked up so bad.”

Felix’s usual calm demeanor softens as he moves to sit next to Seungmin, placing a hand on his back. “Seungmin...” he starts, his voice gentle but firm. “You’ve always been the one who holds everything together. But you can’t do that by pushing people away. You know that, right?”

Han joins them, his expression filled with concern. “You’ve always been our rock, but you’re human, man. You make mistakes, but that doesn’t mean it’s over.”

Seungmin looks down, his hands trembling. “But she’s... she’s everything to me. And I hurt her. I don’t deserve her.”

Felix and Han exchange another look, the weight of his words sinking in. After a long pause, Han speaks, his voice softer now. “You fucked up, yeah. But one thing about Y/N is that she’s one of the most forgiving, kind people we know. She won’t walk away from you for making a mistake. And she loves you, Seungmin. Even when you hurt her.”

Seungmin shakes his head, still not able to fully accept it. “But what if... what if she can’t forgive me this time? What if I’ve ruined everything?”

Felix’s hand gently rubs his back, trying to offer some comfort. “You’ve hurt her, but you’re not beyond redemption. You just need to own up to it. Apologize. Show her you’re trying to change.”

Han adds, his voice firm but caring, “You can’t expect everything to go back to normal overnight, but Y/N has always been there for you. She’s patient. And even if she doesn’t take you back, you need to make it right with her, for your own peace of mind at least.”

Seungmin’s breath hitches as he struggles to process their words. He feels so small right now, like he’s lost control of everything, but at the same time, hearing them say that you still love him gives him a small glimmer of hope.

“I don’t deserve her,” he murmurs again, voice thick with emotion.

Felix smiles softly, a bittersweet look in his eyes. “You do. You’re just... human. You’re not perfect, but she loves you anyway. So go and fix it. Don’t let your pride get in the way of what the two of you have built together.”

Han gives him a light shove, a smile tugging at his lips. “And you know, we’re not going to let you off the hook that easy. You’ve got work to do, but you’re going to get through this. And when you do, Y/N will still be there.”

Seungmin wipes at his eyes, taking in a shaky breath. He feels exhausted, emotionally drained, but the weight on his chest is starting to lift just a little. Maybe there’s a way to make things right after all.

“Thanks, guys,” he says, voice still thick with emotion but filled with gratitude. “I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this.”

Felix and Han both nod, standing up as they ruffle his hair in their usual affectionate way.

“You’re welcome, bro,” Felix says with a soft smile. “Now get to work, and make things right with Y/N.”

Seungmin nods, his heart heavy but determined. The path ahead won’t be easy, but he knows he has to face it, not just for himself, but for you too.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next morning, Seungmin wakes up with a pounding headache, the events of the past few days replaying in his mind. He barely slept, tossing and turning, but now he’s awake, his body exhausted but his mind more clear than it’s been in days.

He stares at the ceiling, his thoughts swirling. The guilt from how he treated you gnaws at him, but so does the realization that he doesn’t want to lose you. He knows he messed up, but now all he can think about is making things right.

The first thing he does is check his phone. There’s a text from you—your usual check-in message, though it’s curt, different from the warm, affectionate messages you used to send him. You’re trying to be polite, trying not to show how much he hurt you. He sees the small signs—an ‘I’m okay’ that doesn’t sound convincing, an emoji that’s more of a placeholder than anything genuine. It stings more than he expected.

He quickly types a reply, his fingers trembling slightly as he types out the words he’s been thinking all night.

“I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t mean what I said. Can we talk later? I’ll be back soon.”

After hitting send, he gets out of bed and heads for the shower, trying to get himself together. He knows it’s going to be a long day, but it’s the first step toward fixing everything.

Checking his phone, he sees a message from you, telling him he can come over. It’s so short and devoid of any personality that it almost makes him reconsider his decision to go see you. He steels his nerves, knowing that he’s the one that did this to you, so it’s his job to fix it.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

When Seungmin arrives at your apartment later in the afternoon, his nerves are shot. His hands are clammy, and he can barely sit still. It feels like he’s walking into a minefield, unsure of how things will go.

You’re sitting on the couch when he enters, your posture stiff, as if you’ve been waiting for this conversation but dreading it at the same time. Your eyes don’t meet his as he steps inside, and a lump forms in his throat.

He opens his mouth, then closes it. There’s so much he wants to say, so much he needs to apologize for. He feels stupid for how he acted, for pushing you away when you only wanted to love him. The silence between you both stretches on, neither of you knowing where to begin.

Finally, you sigh and look up at him. Your expression is guarded, but the pain in your eyes is impossible to ignore. It breaks him, but he can’t shy away from it. He has to face it.

“Seungmin, I don’t know what to say,” you say quietly. “I don’t know how you went from being so sweet to... to treating me like that. I get it, you’re busy, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alone when you’re around.”

Seungmin feels his heart drop at your words. He takes a step closer, swallowing hard. “I know I hurt you, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I was overwhelmed, and I took it out on you. That’s not your fault. I never should’ve said those things. I just... I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I let everything build up, and I pushed you away when you were just trying to be there for me.” His voice breaks slightly, but he keeps going. “I didn’t mean what I said. I never want you to feel like you’re a burden to me, because you’re not. You’re everything to me.”

You don’t say anything, your gaze fixed on the floor as you process his words. Seungmin takes another step closer, reaching out, but hesitates for a moment before gently placing his hand on yours. You flinch, just barely, but you don’t pull away.

“I love you, Y/N,” he continues, his voice thick with all the feelings he’d been bottling up during his time away. “And I’m terrified that I’ve ruined everything. I know I can’t take back what I said, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. I promise.”

There’s a long pause before you finally look up at him, your eyes red, and he can see the raw emotion in them. He realizes you’ve been crying, and it makes him feel worse, knowing how much his actions have hurt you.

“I don’t know if I can just forget it, Seungmin,” you say softly, your voice tinged with sadness. “It hurt too much. You made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Like I was just a burden that you had to deal with.”

Seungmin’s chest tightens, and he pulls his hand back, feeling the sting of your words. “I didn’t mean that. You’re more than enough. I’m the one who messed up. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own stuff that I couldn’t see how much I was pushing you away. And I hate that I did that.”

You look at him for a long moment, your eyes searching his face as if trying to gauge whether he truly means it. You take a deep breath and stand up. For a moment, Seungmin’s heart skips a beat, unsure of what you’re going to do. But you face him, standing in front of him, arms crossed.

“I’m not asking you to fix everything overnight,” you say, your tone firm but soft. “But you have to show me that you’re sorry. That you actually care. I need to know that you want to be here for me, even when things are hard.”

“I do. I do care. More than anything,” Seungmin says, his voice low. “I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I’ll show you. I promise.”

You study him for a moment longer before finally nodding, though it’s clear you’re still hurt. “I’m going to need time, Seungmin. I need to trust that you’re not just saying this because you feel guilty. I need you to prove it.”

Seungmin’s heart sinks, but he nods, knowing that you’re right. “I will. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just please... don’t give up on me.”

You look at him one last time, your eyes softening a little. “I’m not giving up on you. But you need to work for it.”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

As the days pass, Seungmin tries his best to show you that he’s serious about making things right. He’s more attentive, more patient, and he makes an effort to be there for you, even if it’s just for a few minutes every day. He cancels unnecessary meetings, takes time off from work when he can, and always makes sure to check in with you.

You start to soften again, but the walls you put up are still there. It’ll take time, but Seungmin’s determined. This is his chance to prove that he’s worthy of your love, and he won’t let it slip away.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𝟅𝟈 wrote this instead of doing my schoolwork lmao

masterlist.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Thinking about Actress!Reader who finally got to change into a pair of shorts and a crop top after being in a corset and long dresses all day after shooting was done for the day.

Actress!Reader who gets invited to go get Gelato with Peter to help cool off after being stuck in such stuffy clothes for the past six hours.

Bodyguard!Miguel who had to suppress a scowl when you told him that you were basically going on a date with your fellow actor. But that didn’t deter him from volunteering to watch over you both when you went to walk through the streets of Rome. He’d rather be the one watching over you than Peter’s bodyguard.

Actress!Reader and Actor!Peter who didn't notice when a group of passersby recognized them, snapping a few pictures of you both without your knowledge. You weren’t completely used to the whole “having photos taken of you without your permission or contact” but that was unfortunately a price to pay when you’re new and on the rise.

Actress!Reader who finally went home to relax, getting a good night's rest now that the jet lag has finally stopped.

Actress!Reader who wakes up the next morning with 24 missed calls, 35 new messages and her name trending on twitter.

—

Jake (Manager): (Y/N).

Jake(Manger): (Y/N), call me when you wake up.

Peter 🐝.: Did you look at Twitter yet?

Peter🐝.: Or like any social media yet?

Bestie💝: Girl…

Bestie💝: You’ve got some explaining to do.

“What’s… happening?” You mumbled as you scrolled through your new messages as you waddled into the kitchen of your hotel suite, where Miguel was already drinking his cup of coffee. Glancing up at him for a moment as he greeted you.

“Morning.” He mumbled as he placed his mug down. “Your manager told me to have you call him when you're up.”

“Do you know why?” You asked him as you scrolled to Jake’s contact info, receiving a grunt in response, a no.

“(Y/N) (L/N), would you like to explain what went on yesterday after you finished up on set?” You felt like you were five years old and being scolded by your mom all over again, except you genuinely didn’t know what you did.

“Um, I went to go get a snack with Peter. Why-“

“A snack.” He repeated, his tone questioning despite it being deadpan.

“Yes, a snack.” You huffed, your confusion turning into irritation as your brows furrowed together. “Why? can't I have a snack after work with my coworker?”

“You can have a snack after work, but from what I’m looking at here it doesn’t seem like it’s with a coworker.” His words make you pause.

“What?” All attitude now gone, confusion settles back in. “What are you talking about?”

“You haven’t seen the pictures yet?”

“What pictures?”

“Oh dear God…” Jake mumbled under his breath, before letting out a sigh. “Go on twitter, and check the trending tab.”

You put him on speaker and did what you were told, waiting for the little bird app to load, before clicking on the explore tab. Eyes widening as you read out the headline at top.

“Peter B. Parker and (Y/N), coworkers on a new upcoming movie, spotted out on date?!?”

Miguel almost started to choke on his coffee after he heard you recite the words, having to hit his chest to clear his windpipes as you frantically started to scroll through the tag.

“No, no it wasn’t a date though Jake, it wasn’t-“ Your words died on your tongue as your finger stopped scrolling once you hit a particular picture.

A picture of Peter making you try his flavor, by spoon feeding you.

Fuck how can I be so dumb? How could I forget that happened? It was only 2 seconds Max. And now it’s trending.

“I need you down at set an hour early. We have some things to discuss with Peter and his team.” Jake sighed before you heard the dial tone of him hanging up the call.

Shit.

—

Part 4<

Part 6<

Not proofread.

Word count: 600

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st

@mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout

@laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @fruityfucker @pigeonmama @scaryplanetdestroyer

@migueloharastruelove @krentkova19 @genny1019 @maiyart

@stressed-cherry @haveclayeveryday @miguelzslvtz @scaleniusrm @xerorizz

@enananawoah @messicampeon @anastasia1972 @lauraolar14 @huniedeux

@bluesidez @nommingonfood @chrishy973 @m4dyy @night-spectrum

@electricgg (to be added click here)

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Sweet like honey

Steven Grant x fem!reader

Short summary: After a long day at work Steven felt needy and wanted to make you feel good.

Tags: body worship?, oral fem!receiving, PinV, Steven treating reader like a goddess, mature themes.

Steven came home later than usual today, he texted you Donna was being mean to him again but didn't go into detail. Steven entered his flat, seeing you scrolling through your phone on the couch in his living area. A smile automatically formed on his lips, no matter how stressful his days were, you always made his heart melt.

"Love I'm home." He announced softly as to not startle you. You looked up, greeting him with a warm smile "Hi Steven." you stood up and rushed over to him, hugging him, "Your tea is almost done. I put some honey into it to brighten up your night a little." you smiled up at him.

"Thank you." He hugged you back tightly, kissing the top of your head. Steven gently pulled back "You know you didn't have to get the tea ready f'me, it's not like I can't do it myself." Steven chuckled, putting his bag down and pulling off his jacket. "You deserve it. Especially after Donna made you stay longer." You insisted, getting back to the couch. "Ugh, don't get me started on Donna. She's such a douche. Sometimes I wish I could just kick her in the butt and hope she would fall into the trash." Steven complained and made his way to the kitchen for the tea.

Meanwhile you turned on the tv, waiting for Steven to return. As Steven returned couple minutes later, he carried two cups of steaming tea, one for you and one for him. He sat down beside you, handing you a cup "Here you go, luv." He smiled, grabbing the remote and switching channels until it landed on a movie. "Thank you, sweet, handsome and the most perfect Steven." you grinned, taking the cup. "Please, I'm melting rightnow, just by being near you." Steven chuckled, ruffling your hair gently.

You and Steven watched the movie and drinking the tea. As you cuddled into him, you felt Steven's hand snaking down your side, squeezing your hip gently, he leaned in and kissed your shoulder, moving upwards to your neck, the spot behind your ear and your cheek, kissing it a few times before you turned to him "Need something?" you asked softly with a giggle. Steven stopped and looked at you "Need you." he kissed you on the lips, "Please, let me make you feel good, you deserve it after being so good to me, please love." Steven pleaded. "Stevy, you don't have to, really." you replied but Steven looked at you with his now familiar puppy eyes, making it hard for you to deny him. In the end you accepted, making Steven beam with love, he gently laid you back on the couch, pulling your pants off, gently spreading your legs and leaning in between them, his eyes set on your core "So beautiful." he murmured, reaching out and running his fingers along your folds making you let out a small moan, Steven looked up at you and smirked "S'that all for me, my little goddess?" he leaned in closer, giving your hole a lick, trailing his tongue upwards to your clit, you arched your back into him, he dived in and started eating you out, slurping your essence and doing his wonders with his tongue.

"You taste so sweet...like honey.." Steven moaned into you. You chuckled, looking down at him "That's the tea Steven, not me."

Steven looked up at you, grinning "Nah, 'm pretty sure it's you. It has to be, only a goddess like you can taste this sweet." his words made you throw your head back against the armrest as Steven continued to worship you with his mouth and tongue. Eventually, your orgasm approached, making Steven moan as he greedily slurped up all evidence of your orgasm. He sat back up, smiling at you "Are you satisfied, luv?" he asked "Yeah." you grinned, catching your breath, "Your turn." you said, propping yourself up on your elbows. "You don't have to do anything, I just wanted to make you feel good." Steven insisted.

"Stevennnn!" You whined, pouting at him. You knew Steven couldn't stand when you were pouting at him like that, so he positioned himself between your legs, undoing his pants and pulling his cock out, "Want me inside you? 's that what you want?" Steven asked, rubbing his cockhead teasingly against your hole, you nodded, Steven entered you slowly, letting you adjust to his size and started moving in a steady pace "Feels so good, love." he moaned, his cock hitting all the spots inside you, "You're so good, Steven." you moaned, feeling your pleasure building up again, making you arch your back again. Steven's pace increased, his hips slapping against your skin, his breathing getting heavier, signalizing his orgasm, his thrusts became faster and harder, your moans louder. Steven came first, but feeling him fill you up made your cunt flutter around him, squeezing him. As both of you calmed down from orgasm, Steven pulled out, cleaning you up gently and putting himself back, handing you your discarted clothes back "That was quite intense, wasn't it?" Steven asked, smiling at you. "Yes it was, all thanks to you, Stevy." you giggled, sitting back down on the couch beside him. Steven pulled you into his arms, running his fingers through your hair lovingly. After some time, Steven noticed your eyes getting heavier as you were about to doze off "Wanna go to bed?" he asked softly you looked up at him, smiling "No, I wanna stay here with you." you snuggled more into him, resting your head against his shoulder, "Alright fine, but don't blame me if you fall asleep in my arms and make me carry you to bed later." Steven chuckled, as you let out a groggy laughter, "Deal."

Steven pulled you closer, grabbing a nearby blanket and pulled it gently over you, wrapping his arms around you, continuing to watch the movie as you fell asleep soundly in his arms.

[aleenuhs]

Her Carhartt’s (Modern Sadie Adler x Fem!Reader)

Note: this idea came to me due to a friend of mine calling me a Carhartt warrior a few days back, what can I say? I love dressing like a lil blue collar worker.

Sypnosis: Sadie loves Carhartt, the jeans, the beanies, jackets and everything else. You, on the other hand, you don't really wear anything of the brand, expect for their beanies. You steal a hoodie, adorned with wear and tear, it was hers for sure. When Sadie comes back into your guys' shared room, she stands shocked.

tags: established relationship, fluff, smut, aftercare

word count: 1.5k

warnings: fluff, smut w/aftercare, Sadie calls reader “girl” and other pet names, fingering (r!receiving), cuddling and kissing (all that stuff), Sadie gets a bit determined, lmk if more.

proofread? sorta..

Where you and Sadie lived, it often got cold, but Sadie kept the windows open in the house, sometimes even leaving the AC on during the night. Meanwhile, you shivered, teeth chattering and all. But you didn't mention a word of it to Sadie, as it wasn't that horrible, maybe you were overreacting.

Oh, but one day, it got cold, you turned on the heater while Sadie was away in the kitchen, then sat down on the couch, curled up watching your favorite movie. You refused to dress in more warm clothing as it would worsen things, you'd get way to hot and uncomfortable for your liking. So you resorted to trying to make your apartment warm.

Sadie walked out of the kitchen, using her hand as a fan.

"It's hot in here, Jesus." She walks over to the thermostat and turns it down to 50 degrees, previously 75, then walking away into the bathroom before you could mutter a single word and tell her to turn it back up.

You sigh. Your girlfriend was somehow always hot all the time, never cold, she just ran hot.

Upon turning off the TV, you stand up from your place on the couch and walk over to you and Sadies shared room. In a search for something to keep you warm, you sift through Sadies side of the closet, finding a jacket that you knew would keep you warm, her Carhartt hoodie in grey, little rips and tears, some discolored parts of the jacket, but that was what made it perfect. You slip it over your shirt, then Sadie comes out of the bathroom. Her head was tilted down, looking at her phone, then eventually she looks up to see you in the closet.

"And what're you doin' in my side of the closet, girl?" Sadie saw you putting the hanger back on the rack, and you let on a small smile, turning your body toward her.

"Just warming myself up," you reply back.

"You're cold?" She pauses, after seeing that you were wearing her hoodie. "Oh?"

"Hm?" You questioned, wondering why she suddenly had paused. Sadie knew you liked to wear her stuff, sometimes, and it was mostly her shirts, but never that jacket. Sadie let on a small chuckle.

"You're wearin' my work hoodie, honey."

"Oh I know," You smiled and smiled back.

"Looks good on you, maybe you should keep it, gives me an excuse to go buy a new one, for myself.” She joked and sat down on the bed, crossing her leg over the other.

“I’m good. I know you like this one, Sadie.”

“Speaking of that, I was fixing to buy a new one anyway.” She sees you let a huff of air out.

“That’s what you’re gonna spend like, half of your paycheck on, babe?” You said, and she was already scrolling through the Carhartt site. “Guess so.” You replied to yourself. You sit down next to her as she laid there scrolling through the website, she was focused on looking to buy something new, you let out a little whine, asking for attention.

“C’mere.” She hears you, when you lay down she brings you closer. Sadie sucks in a breath and puts her head back down near your neck and bites a little, making a shock go down your spine. She steadies you when she feels you writhe against her. “Look s’cute in my hoodie..”

You let on a small laugh and a smile picks at the corners of your lips and then you go in to kiss her, snuggling even closer to her body. “I love you,” you say as she peppers kisses to your neck. Your heartbeat quickening.

“I love you too honey.” She keeps going and all you could do was smile, your hands resting on her head, playing with her braid. She sucks a little, which you could imagine would leave a hickey on your collarbone. Sadie and you hadn’t had much time together since the start of her new job in construction. Her calloused hands ran up under the hoodie, feeling over your bare skin, rubbing your waist. “My girl.”

You can feel the rush in your stomach, there was no returning now, things could only go up from here. The familiar feeling of Sadies hair against your skin, and her lips kissing yours. It was never a foreign feeling.

Sadie starts to grab you more aggressively, bringing her hands up to your shoulders, forcing your back to be faced down on the bed, she straddles you, your frame pinned to the bed, her on top of you, a sensation of heat radiating from Sadie. Both of your lips connect in a heavy haste of love. “Sadie,” you pull back from her, out of breath already. Sadie doesn’t respond she was very into you. You repeated breathily, "Sadie?"

“Mm?” She mumbled, placing kisses all over your face and neck.

“Sadie it’s getting hot—” the words tumble out of your mouth, Sadie grumbled lowly and raised her head from you and took off the hoodie. Throwing it to the side of the bed and then taking off your shirt, leaving you in a bra. The cool air hitting you, quickly cooling you down.

She leaves a few hickeys on your chest.

Grasping at Sadie’s tank top, you fumbled with your hands to take it off her body. “I need you.” Sadie said sounding desperate and sexually frustrated, she took off your bottoms, another article of clothing on the floor, discarded from both you and Sadie's bodies. Her hand reaches down to the heat that was pooling between your thighs and you swear to god you flinched, not because you were scared but because of how gentle she was with it, hence the slight rush in actions that she was exhibiting beforehand.

She needed me? How horrible was her work week? You thought, the desperation was visible, no it was right there in her actions.

Your skin started to heat up, you could feel the blush rushing to your cheeks. At first, Sadie rubs your clit through your panties, her thumb slowly circling the wetness that collected in your panties from just Sadie kissing you, and teasing you.

Sadie moves to lay down beside you, fixing herself, her hand moves back down to your abdomen, then stoping at the hem of your panties, taking them off. Your eyes were just watching the blondes every move, then flicking back up to her eyes. You felt so much smaller than her, she always took control and you did not complain at all.

She slips a finger into your wetness, a moan almost slipped from your mouth, but you caught it and bit your lip while looking at her, your hand gripping at her arm and Sadie smiles at you, watching your face and the way you held back your whimpers.

"Don't hide those pretty noises now, girl." She says and you listen. And in one movement she buried a finger into your cunt, pumping it ever so slightly, as if to tease you, like she always loved to do.

"Christ. Sadie.." You felt so good, your fingers trembled as they held onto her.

"S'worked up already, aren't you?" She said playfully, and all you could do was nod. She added another finger, stretching you out. A hint of pain rushed through you but it was quickly replaced with the feeling of pleasure running through your nerves. Your fingernails dug into her arm muscles, Sadie laughs. A moan finally escapes your lips and Sadie swears her ears were blessed. "Good girl," she drags the last syllable of the word, her voice raspy, a predatory gleam flashes through her eyes. She rests her head under your jaw, watching her fingers disappear and reappear each time she thrusted her fingers in you.

The sounds of the wetness between your thighs only seemed to get louder, and Sadie enjoyed it. She removed her head from under your jaw and placed her lips on yours, your little efforts paused for the moment as she lazily kissed you.

You could feel yourself getting there, to that point that you could hardly reach all by yourself when Sadie wasn't there to help you release, to make you feel alright. You chased your high.

Your thighs came together, but Sadie pulled away and used her hand to keep them open, "Nope-- keep 'em like this sweetie."

"But.." You retired, ending your sentence right as it started.

"But what honey?" She playfully chides.

"Nothing."

She continued, and finally, you reached that point. Your sweet juices spilled out, Sadie smiles again. "Come for me, jus' like that. My oh my..”

She watches as you hide your face in her neck and your body shakes against her. Her hand comes to her own mouth and licks the juices off her fingers, groaning a sweet hum at the taste. "All this for me? Such a good girl for me."

When you finally come down, you look Sadie in the eyes through your lashes, half lidded and your breath still shaky.

"How was that?" Sadie pulls away, revealing your face.

"That felt... really good, Sadie." You spoke.

"Im glad. Let me take care of you." She gets up, leaving you there resting on the bed, she walks to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, she comes back into the room. "Drink up, lemme run ya a bath now." She went into the bathroom and turned on the warm water for you.

You rubbed your thighs together, an ache between them even after she finished with you. You could hear the water running, she comes back into the room. "Thank you Sadie, is there- anything I could do for you?" You ask and she giggled, shaking her head.

"I need to make sure you're okay." She helps you up and takes you to the bathroom, you wait for the water to fill the bath tub in front of you. She places a kiss to your head, "I love you, 'kay?"

"I love you too, so much." You smile proudly at her.

a/n if u enjoyed that please feel free to req more!

[ericshoney]

Mini Matt in a grump ~ Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Mini Matt gets her period resulting in her being grumpy to the guys.

Warnings: possible swearing, nicknames, period, mention of bleeding, crying, fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had woken up in your own bed with major cramps. You went to your bathroom and realised it was that time of the month. You sighed and jumped in the shower, the hot water helping you relax, before getting dressed for the day. You weren't sure what the guys had planned, but a pair of sweatpants were your best friend at this time. You also slipped on a hoodie, which you think belongs to Matt.

You then grabbed your phone and saw it was two in the afternoon. As you walked into the living room, you saw the triplets awake and chatting.

"Morning Mini Matt!" Chris shouted from his seat on the sofa.

"Hmm." You just grumbled as you rummaged through the cupboards for some food.

Chris just laughed, as that was your usual morning response. Much like your male counterpart, neither of you had a way of words after waking up first thing.

After grabbing something you wanted to eat, you went and sat down on the end of the sofa, closest to where Nick was sat. It was all calm and chill, making you feel a bit better.

"Let's make a TikTok." Nick suddenly blurted out.

"I'm good." You muttered, scrolling through your phone.

"Oh come on grumpy pants! Have some fun!" Chris joked.

"Fuck off." You growled.

You then got up, heading to the bathroom to take care of your business. As you were gone, the three brothers shared a look.

"Okay she's grumpier than usual." Matt mentioned.

"Really? I thought that was regular Mini Mattitude." Chris responded sarcastically.

"I'm sure it's just a morning thing." Nick said.

You then came out and returned to your spot on the sofa. You curled up, feeling some cramps but didn't want to bother the guys with your monthly problem.

"Bub, we were thinking of going to the mall later, you down?" Chris asked.

"Not really." You answered honestly.

"What's wrong? You love to shop." Nick said.

"Just not in the mood, kay?" You snapped.

"Alright, miss moody." He sassed.

"Can you fucking stop with the moody comments! If I'm not in the mood can you fucking respect that!" You shouted, before storming off to your room.

The three shared a look as your bedroom door slammed shut with a bang. They each looked concerned.

"That's new." Chris mumbled.

Matt silently stood up from his seat and walked to your room. As he got to the door and heard you crying, he walked in without knocking.

"Hey sweetheart, talk to me, what's going on?" He asked softly.

"You'll laugh." You grumbled.

Matt came and sat next to you as you laid on your bed, he rubbed your back.

"I won't laugh, kid." He replied.

"My period." You answered.

"Oooh, is that why you're a little bit grumpy." He responded.

"I don't mean to! I'm just cramping, it fucking hurts and I feel like I'm bleeding a river. I started this morning." You cried.

"Shh, it's okay, petal. You can't help it happening, it's part of being a girl. But talk to us okay, we're not going to freak out. You want a hot water bottle?" He asked.

You nodded as he grabbed one from your side and walked into the kitchen, where Nick and Chris were. Matt put the hot water bottle in the microwave.

"Period." Was all Matt said, making the other two realise.

They both nodded as Nick opened the cupboard and grabbed some chocolates. Chris grabbed a couple blankets as the microwaved pinged.

The three then entered your room, making you smile as they started to make you feel more comfortable.

"Sorry for snapping." You apologised.

"Don't be sorry sweetheart, it's okay. Let's watch some movies and eat chocolate." Nick said.

You smiled as the four of you laid in your bed, watching Disney movies and easing your mind from the cramps you were having.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

@lgbtq-girl @mattsfavbigtitties @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sturniolo-fann @mrvlxgrl @melaniesturniolo @cl1tlover3000 @lottieluhvs @lovesturni0l0s @blahbel668  @emely9274 @nicksloverrr @emely9274 @nicksloverrr @pancjfrjb @sturniolosweetheart33 @luvr4miya @artloo123 @n0aa @sturn-rose @ivysturnss

[tellmeallaboutit]

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 2, In Which You Meet A Tall Dark Stranger 

Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Careful which mods you install for BG3. Did you read the terms and conditions carefully?

TAGS: meta romance, psychological horror, smut, the character is the player, Raphael is after you, you wanted him, you invited him to our world, he accepted your invitation

RATING: explicit

AO3

Chapter 2

The next day, during your lunch break, you made another attempt to persuade Raphael to take his clothes off. The clock struck noon; your private laptop was on the right side of your desk, while your work laptop was on the left, Teams open and your mouse ready to show signs of activity from time to time.

The sun was shining through the wide open window, children playing outside. Idyllic. Nothing sinister could be happening in broad daylight with those happy sounds in the background. The horror movies told you so. Except for Midsommar.

Well, screw Midsommar, then. This isn’t Sweden.

"All right, I'm going to set some ground rules here," you said to the loading screen. "I can be as creepy as I want to be to you, because you're just a bunch of pixels, but you can't do anything creepy to me, because I'm a human being. Got that? Good."

The sound of your voice made you feel braver.

As you heard the familiar sinister 'you-let-the-villain-win-bad-player' music in the background, you covered your eyes with your hands and peered through splayed fingers.

Then he appeared. Just as you had wished. Perfectly naked, with a stereotypical video game six-pack and just the right amount of body hair. The orange lighting made his skin glow, and his flaccid penis, like that of the game's generic male model, vanished from sight as he strode closer.

Your ears pricked up to listen to the scripted monologue you knew by heart, watching (waiting?) for any hiccups or new animations, the YouTube app on your phone playing the identical scene for comparison.

Everything happened exactly as it should, word for word, save for the speaker’s nudity.

All good. You breathed a sigh of relief and spread your fingers wider to admire Raphael a little better. 

Same as always. Handsome and charming and completely imaginary, which, now that you thought about it, was the biggest part of his charm. 

"Ta-ta... for now," Raphael's signature line echoed through the room.

"Bravo, Raphael," you praised the screen. "You've done nothing creepy. You have earned your title of Archdevil Supreme."

After waiting for a response that never came, you laughed off your silliness and shook your head. Your laptop was overheating, giving off a slight synthetic smell. Should have upgraded a long time ago. Just need to put enough money aside.

"OK, screenshots," you said. "I wanted to take some screenshots. Do you mind, Raphael? Can I have your consent? They’ll help recruit more followers for you, my liege."

Your phone vibrated. The FaceID gave you a preview of the Discord messages from Queen-of-the-Bored, one of the few Raphaelites you'd actually spoken to directly and felt like you kinda sorta knew.

queen-of-the-bored: ngl that was some really funny joke, we spent the whole night trying to recreate it :-D queen-of-the-bored: you sounded legit worried over that voice message tho haha you: it was legit. check the reddit thread queen-of-the-bored: which thread

Ok, let me google that for you. You typed in the same search words as yesterday, "Raphael naked mod April prank," clicked on the thread from yesterday, and skimmed through the comments.

“nah not joking there is this naked mod for teenage mutant ninja""

“all dongs appeared MASSIVE on April’s first”

Scrolling further, you realized that was not the correct Raphael - it's Raphael the Turtle, not Raphael the Devil. Why was there so much NSFW content about him? What did people see in turtles?

You quickly corrected your search to "Raphael BG3 naked mod April prank," but it didn’t bring back any relevant results. So, you changed it to "last twenty four hours" just to be thorough.

Didn’t help. Nothing. You were the only to be called a naughty little mouse. The special one.

queen-of-the-bored: which thread dude??? you: my bad it was the turtle queen-of-the-bored: ??? queen-of-the-bored: I am slowly getting worried about you haha

Next step? Contact the mod developer directly? What if they have no idea what you're talking about?

Then what? What were the alternative theories? You've been hacked and doxxed to madness for that one Twitter post that got people waving pitchforks at you? 

There you go, you were scared again. Daytime, sun shining and children playing outside, but there you were, alone in your flat, scared again.

You took a deep breath and looked at the screen. "All right, I understand, Mr Archdevil Supreme. No screenshots. I'll uninstall the mod and I apologise for my disrespectful behaviour."

You couldn't bear to see Raphael's face on the screen again so you hit ctrl alt delete instead of Escape and stared blankly at the Task Manager.

Next, you uninstalled the mod that had caused all this trouble. Then you went to Tumblr and removed the reblog of Raphael in a cat playsuit with the tag "my poor miau miau". Then you deleted your bookmarks on AO3. Your Twitter account was beyond repair, so you deleted it altogether.

None of these actions made you feel any better. You grabbed a quick cup of shrimp noodles, but eating it only made you feel worse. As you tasted the sodium on your tongue, you came to a realisation: what you needed was to go the fuck outside.

You had been stuck in your flat and home office since the start of the pandemic, chronically online. Online work, online colleagues, online friends, who was the last real person you saw, talked to and hugged?

Your mum, probably. 

Oh yes, no wonder you were going mad. You need to get out there and meet some real people. You opened Discord, quickly scrolled past the sketch of Tav giving Raphael head, and typed a message: you needed to touch grass.

queen-of-the-bored: well there is Comic-Con this weekend  you: this is NOT touching grass, this is burning it queen-of-the-bored: true you: besides not going alone queen-of-the-bored: maybe Raph will keep you company 😈 

What? Such a strange thing to say. Or was it? Who the hell was that behind the screen anyway? Apparently someone called Sammy from Ohio. Supposedly. Wasn’t she the one who recommended this mod?

She was.

Come on, you're just letting your paranoia get the best of you.

queen-of-the-bored: oh BTW I found THE hottest Raph smut  queen-of-the-bored: mind the tags it's so hot but soooooo fucked up queen-of-the-bored: just read it trust me thank me later

Who the hell were you, Sammy from Ohio, Korilla? You put the phone down and started pacing around your small flat. It was not much to pace around, only forty-two square meters. 

At least you rent a flat in a building with other people and not some house at the edge of the forest. Strangers live below you, above you and on either side of you. They don't know you and you don't know them... but they were there, just in case...

Just in case.

"You know what?" you said to your computer. "I need a break. I need to focus on my mental health. Self-care, Raphael. I'm not playing with you. For now".

The moment you finished speaking, your phone lit up again with another notification. This time it was an email. You made a mental note to start managing your notifications better.

Did you enjoy your Devil Dick © - Natural Red experience? We know you will be back for more 😈 Check out the new...

What the fuck? Oh no, no, click away and make a mental note to never order from Bad Dragon again with customer satisfaction emails like this. It's borderline harassment. You ordered from them ONCE, as a joke, just to see what ridges might feel like.

Not as good as the smut had promised you,

Private. Private stuff. Between you and your bed drawer. Between you and your browser. God, how much stuff you have in your browser history. You should have used incognito mode more often.

Would that have helped? 

"That was low, Raphael," you muttered. "Or is it Haarlep today?"

You glanced around your room before angling your computer screen towards the wall, then retrieved the Devil Dick © from its hideaway in your bedside drawer. Your fingers grazed over the silicon ridges as you swiftly stashed it away in a box beneath the bed.

"If you must know, it was too big for me. Flattered?"

Crawling out from under the dusty bed, you looked up and realized for the first time that anyone in the building could easily peep into the flat if they tried hard enough or cared enough to do so.

Enough is enough.

You need to hydrate, you need to eat some vegetables, you need to start jogging again and you definitely... you definitely need to go out and talk to some real people. Maybe it's time to get back on Bumble and try your luck again. Who knows, it might actually work this time.

He wouldn't like that.

Where did that thought just come from? He wouldn't like it, who the hell cares what some imaginary devil thinks.

Standing up straight, you pointed a finger at the screen in front of you.

"Raphael, just so we are clear, you and I: I really like you. I do PR for you every day for free. You don't have to scare me to get my attention. You should appreciate me and be nice to me. I'm the best agent you'll ever have.”

Having made your point, you put on your running shoes and AirPods. It brought back memories of all the times you had jogged through the nearby park. Afterwards you'd sit on the bench and eat an ice-cream, watching couples, happy and glowing, watching families with children, happy and stressed, watching people living their lives in a reality parallel to yours, and then you'd come home and go into a reality parallel to theirs.

The AirPods picked up right where they left off last time.

I want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as I whisper in your ear

I wanna fucking tear you apart

You removed the AirPods from your earlobes and exhaled. This wasn’t Raphael's fault. This is She Wants Revenge, you have listened to it a thousand times. You knew the lyrics, they hadn't changed. 

You can't even listen to music anymore. Pull yourself together. 

Get some vitamins from the pharmacy.

Touch some goddamn grass.

***

You stuck to your digital and physical diet until the weekend, and as a reward, nothing happened. No oddly timed emails, no strange messages, no random phone calls. Maybe it was your pitch talk or the vitamins you started taking, but either way, Raphael was on his best behavior, and so were you. 

No Tumblr, no AO3. Didn't even touch Steam. Got into a highbrow podcast about the Roman Empire.

You set a new personal record for days without 'self-indulgence', as Raphael would put it, although that wasn't really the intention. Something always seemed to interrupt - whether it was the loud hum of the fridge (which was always obnoxious) or the flickering light in the hallway (which had been broken for over a week). 

By Friday, you had finally finished the work projects you had been putting off for months. The job wasn't too bad, but it hadn't been any fun for years, if it ever had been. You did the bare minimum to get the paycheck and keep the job, and your employer kept the paycheck at the bare minimum to keep you. If there was anything else you could do, you would do something else.

Still, this was probably the most productive week you had in years. You scrubbed your flat from top to bottom twice and cleared your wardrobe of clothes that no longer fit.

You were proud of yourself.

Gradually your sense of security began to return. You tried not to dwell too much on the incident with the naughty little mouse; if you didn't think about it, it almost felt like it hadn't happened.

On Friday, you plucked up the courage to play BG3 again, wandered through Baldur's Gate, avoiding the House of Hope for the time being, had a few fights, played the graveyard scene with Astarion (daring, but a small part of you hoped it would make Raphael jealous enough to come out again), and shut it down. 

Nothing out of the ordinary.

You hadn't planned to go to Comic-Con. For one thing, it was on the other side of the city, in the business district of the convention centre, so it would take at least an hour to get there. Secondly, going alone just felt... weird.

It was not until Friday night that a little voice in your head started to whisper, "Why not? Maybe you'll meet some like-minded people”. Make some friends you can actually touch (not in a creepy way). 

It's a better chance than endlessly swiping on Bumble.

Maybe you'll meet...

Neil Newbon. If you can get past the hordes of fangirls. Andrew Wincott. No, Andrew Wincott wouldn't be there; you'd checked beforehand. To be honest, hearing his voice might have been too much for your psyche at that moment.

So you decided to go. You went, and it was as fun as you had imagined it would be - that is, hardly any. The convention hall was huge and crowded, rows and rows of stalls, crowds and crowds of people. Live panel discussions, cosplayers, flashing lights, bright colors, chatter, laughter, very loud, very lively.

Raphael wouldn't last a minute in that chaos.

"Hell is other people," you thought to yourself, quoting Sartre. If you ever met Raphael, you'd quote Sartre to him too. He must know that you read intelligent books and not just fanfiction. 

Some people might be comfortable going to events and eating alone in restaurants, but not you. It's even worse being the odd one out in a group of odd ones. How come all the others had someone to take along? Where did they find all those people in this godforsaken city?

You talked to a few people and a few people talked to you. Nothing really took off. Your mind was elsewhere, to be fair. You were looking for something in the crowd. 

Someone.

It was absurd, yes, but so was what happened this week with the mod. You had met a few Raphael cosplayers, three at least, but they were...

Well, of course they weren't him. But they did a great job with the clothes and the hair and the make-up, and one had really great prosthetic horns, and you touched them and admired them and praised that particular Raphael for all his hard work in creating them.

They were real people, not video game characters that had come to life, and neither were you. You looked down at your jeans, at your thighs, and thought you should start jogging again, and felt even less comfortable in your own skin. 

Then Neil Newbon came along and things quickly became too chaotic for you.

You decided to take a break and walked down the street until you came across a cosy café - none of that generic chain stuff, but something that tried hard to be authentic with pretty flowers in the windows.

Sitting alone at a table for two, you looked down at your phone and opened the Discord chat because you came here to talk to some real people.

In the main chat, there was a heated debate about whether devils are allowed to torture mortals into signing contracts. Both sides presented arguments based on lore, edition contradictions, past precedents and personal conviction. 

A man's voice interrupted you as you typed your own very elaborated opinion of hellish law. "Excuse me, may I?" he asked, his words slightly muffled by the AirPods.

"Sure," you replied with practiced friendliness, not even looking up. That was always your default answer. It's not like you can say no to this kind of request anyway. 

People ask and do a lot of things out of politeness. That was precisely why you took the AirPods out of your ears.

The moment you lifted your eyes to meet the man's, you learned the true meaning of the word 'jumpscare'. Your body jerked upwards, the table shook and the coffee cup tumbled - narrowly missing Raphael.

Raphael. 

Not a man who looked like Raphael, not a man who was dressed like him - Raphael. 

You weren't sure if you made any sound or uttered any words. You probably yelped.

What you did do for sure was gawk.

His skin tone identical; hair slicked back just right; eyes uncannily accurate in hue and shape - down to every wrinkle. A perfectly realistic rendering. Not the uncanny valley type, no, perfectly believable. This is exactly what he would look like if he were real and swapped his fantasy clothes for a business suit.

So this is what it feels like to go completely insane.

Very banal, actually. You are having a psychotic breakdown and no one is even looking at you, except for an imaginary devil.

"Oh my, my apologies," Raphael said as he quickly grabbed napkins to mop up the spreading lake of coffee on the table. "I did not mean to scare you."

Oh, but he did, very much. You could not breathe, your chest encased in an iron brace of fear. It's you who needs to apologise, and apologise fast, and apologise a lot, and beg for mercy. Especially for liking the Twitter art of him being spit-roasted between Yurgir and Haarlep. 

If you only knew... you would never have clicked on it... absolutely never... all those posts you wrote... 

"Raphael?" you managed to squeak out. “I didn’t mean it, I swear.”

This must be how a deer feels in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

He looked at you, very sincere confusion etched across his handsome face. "Excuse me?"

You drew in a shaky breath, your nostrils flaring as you tried to catch a whiff of cherries under the aroma of fresh coffee, not caring how absurd you appeared. Yes? No? Or was that strawberry jam on his croissant? Have your senses gone haywire? Your mind certainly has.

"You're... you're here to cosplay Raphael?" 

The thought tumbled out of your mouth before it had time to fully form in your head. It was the only explanation that made sense... It didn't, but it made more sense than all the others put together.

Raphael moved closer, pulled up a chair and asked, amused: "I beg your pardon, I'm here to do what to whom?"

The voice. The voice was the same. Andrew Wincott's voice. The man had simply stolen his voice. Or had the man stolen it from him? The movements, the mannerisms, the facial expressions. This man could not be Raphael because...

Well, because this man was real. As real as you were. 

"Raphael," you explained. "From the video game. Are you here to cosplay... to play... Raphael?"

The man gave you a look as if questioning your sanity, and rightfully so. You were also sweating bullets - could he see the damp patches under your hoodie? You pressed your arms against your sides; wouldn't want him noticing.

"I'm hardly an actor," Raphael replied with a polite smile, "although there was a time in my youth when I entertained such ambitions."

He chuckled lightly and took a leisurely sip of his coffee. 

"I'm here to enjoy my espresso, nothing more. I... have never been particularly fond of..." he added with the disdain of a typical middle-aged man, "... video games.”

You had no response for that because Raphael wouldn't be into video games either; that much was believable.

"My office is across the street," he said, pointing towards the office complex opposite you. "Precisely there."

The golden sign on the building across from you, d'Avergni & Partners, told you nothing, except that Raphael had an office job and an office space and a desk and all the things that the devil shouldn’t have because the devil invented them to torture the others.

Raphael was dressed like he had just stepped out of a board meeting. A three-piece slate gray tailored suit, white shirt peeking out from underneath, silk tie and matching pocket square. Of all the modern Raphael AUs, you preferred the Professor one, you voted for it, you had Sucharide’s fic bookmarked. The Professor was more, ugh...

Safe.

As for you, you were wearing a hoodie with your university on it. A clean hoodie, but a hoodie nonetheless. What the hell else would you be wearing to Comic Con? You didn't do your hair. Well, putting it in a ponytail is not doing your hair. Why did you not do your hair? 

"I know, I know, you must be wondering why anyone would toil on a weekend," Raphael continued. That was the last thing you were wondering. "Alas, no rest for the wicked."

"Wicked?" you echoed. You looked at the people in the cafe, sure they were staring at the both of you, but they weren't.

"Oh," he chuckled lightly, "it's just an expression – 'No rest for the wicked.' You've never heard it before?"

"Of course I have," you said, momentarily embarrassed. "Never mind...sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Raphael raised his eyebrows. "In fact, I should be the one to apologise for startling you. May I offer you another cup of... ah, what was that... cappuccino? After twelve? Tsk-tsk, young lady".

Not a single modern man could ever manage to say the words "tsk-tsk, young lady" as charmingly. That was Raphael.

"No bother, I can get one myself," you said quickly, about to stand up. 

He raised his hand slightly and put it down to halt your movement, and for a second you thought he was going to touch you, and if he had, if you had felt the skin of his skin, he would have felt more real and you would have died on the spot from a bursting heart.

"I have no doubt about that. But may I treat you? It would be my absolute pleasure”.

Pleasure. The way he said the word was straight obscene. You couldn't handle the word 'pleasure' coming from a man who had been responsible for more than half your orgasms in the last few months.

So in your daze, you mumbled: "Yeah. Yeah, sure."

Raphael stood up and walked over to the barista. She acknowledged him, so that's one point for him being real and you not hallucinating. Not only did she acknowledge him but she flashed him a goofy grin - clearly smitten.

Of course she is.

You have to take a picture of him. How do you take a picture of someone without their consent without being a total creep?

You don't. It's in the fucking definition; you can't. But you should. Maybe you'll open your camera roll and see someone completely different, and then you'll know it's time to call for mental health services.

Your phone was buzzing with messages, which you quickly swiped away and went straight to the camera. You took a picture of him from behind while he ordered you a coffee. The barista gave you a “fucking weirdo” look. 

Fuck you, you thought, you have no idea what I am going through right now. Then you switched to the camera roll and checked to see if the photo reflected what you saw.

A broad, fit back of a very attractive middle-aged man with lush brown hair, paying for coffee with cash.

You couldn't decide whether this made you feel better or worse.

When Raphael returned with your cup, you had something for him too. "This is the character I was talking about," you said, a screenshot of virtual Raphael ready on your screen.

Anyone who saw the screenshot would say, "Who motion-captured me?" 

Not Raphael. He barely glanced before shrugging and handing your phone back. "Hmm, I see some resemblance, I guess."

Resemblance? What fucking resemblance? There was no resemblance; he WAS Raphael! You were about to argue but he beat you to it: "Why? Were you hoping to meet this...Raphael?" 

His voice dropped an octave and he looked at you intently. He was flirting - openly, unashamedly.

"I...I was," you stammered out. "He's my favourite character."

Brilliant, brilliant line. Dear diary, today I wanted to meet Raphael, my favourite character from my favourite game. So much for quoting Sartre.

"Well now, I'm flattered," Raphael purred, causing you to wriggle uncomfortably in your seat. "I do bear some physical likeness."

That was a massive understatement. 

The man had a disarmingly charming smile. You tried to remember if Raphael had ever smiled like that in the game. It was mostly scowls and grins and smirks, but this kind of smile? You didn't think so. You caught a glimpse of yourself in his hazel eyes, and that was not Tav; that was you. Just you.

Not that you were unattractive or anything. Average. Maybe even a little pretty on a good day. You didn't like yourself very much. Then again, most people don't. That's how the beauty industry makes its money. 

You got your share of attention, some, nothing to brag about. Had two boyfriends, it didn't work out, you used to care, now you don't. Certainly never got any attention from men who looked like him.

Why should this man be interested in you, why? Ah, yes. Your soul. He probably wants your soul. Is it worth much at all? Is it worth coming all the way to Earth? You wanted to apologize to him for going through all this trouble just for you.

"So this event in the convention hall down the street..." he snapped his fingers as if trying to recall a forgotten name.

"Comic-Con 2024," you supplied. "It's huge in fandom culture. TV shows, video games, that sort of stuff.”

"Ah. Not my kind of entertainment - or my kind of audience, for that matter," Raphael said with a slightly raised eyebrow, eyeing the “Astarion approves” badge on your backpack.  "It does remind me of a deal I signed recently."

"Deal?" you asked in a weak voice. He nodded. "What deal? With who?"

"With who? No, I meant the Microsoft-Blizzard acquisition". 

Ah, that kind of deal. The words felt so reassuring, so real, the acquisition. Raphael would have no idea about these words. Raphael wouldn't say "Microsoft". You mean the real Raphael. What the hell is a 'real' Raphael again?

For the first time, you let go of a little tension. You took a first sip of your coffee and leaned back slightly in your chair. 

"Actually, I think these acquisitions are really harmful for the industry," you said. 

Why did you have to be so confrontational? You didn't have anything clever to say about such things, so you spoke the truth instead. Bad idea.

"How candid of you to say that. Well, I’ll be just as candid with you: I am indeed a villain." Raphael grinned. "I hope you can forgive me." 

There went your short-lived relaxation, which lasted less than a minute.  Raphael had just looked at you and said "I am a villain". Challenge him. Tell him it's him because, well, it's him. It can only be him. Tell him you know it's him, and then...

And then what?

"Everybody's got a job to do, I guess", you managed to utter the most generic phrase in existence.

"Isn't that so..." Raphael replied, pausing for a moment before finishing the sentence with your name.

You did not introduce yourself to him. You were sure of it. Absolutely sure. 

"How do you know my name?" you asked, half rising from your chair, raising your voice and quickly lowering it again. "I didn't tell you my name. How do you know it?"

Raphael gestured to your phone, which lay on the table screen between the two of you. Your work ID card was tucked away in its transparent case - something you hadn't needed for a while.

It had your first and last name on it.

"I saw it right before my eyes," he explained. "I thought it was a hint."

"It wasn't," you said.

"Oh, another faux pas on my part then," he said. "At this rate, I owe you something to make up for all my many transgressions. Perhaps dinner?"

You let out a nervous chuckle. One of your popular Tumblr posts had been an impassioned rant about how Raphael had promised a similar in-game offer but failed to deliver despite the many times you gave him the Crown.

"I seem to have absolutely terrified you, and that was not my intention. I insist on making it up to you. If you allow me, of course. I don't want to impose. Would you allow me to?"

He looked at you with the intensity of a man admiring a beautiful woman, his shoulders back and chin slightly up, trying to present himself from his best angle - something you've seen men do before, but rarely (if ever) to you. It was as if he could hang on every word that came out of your mouth, simply because he enjoyed watching your lips move. Raphael looked like he was in love, for Christ's sake.

Your cheeks grew warm. 

"Yes," you replied.

He kept silent for a bit, savouring your answer. 

"Splendid. Where might I collect you?"

It took you a moment to realise that he was asking for your address. Your personal address. Shouldn't he know it already, if he was Raphael? You replied as nonchalantly as possible:

"Why don't I give you my number and we can arrange to meet at the center?"

His expression darkened slightly; you've seen this look in the game before.

No, you shouldn't have said that. You wanted him to like you. 

Desperately.

"You don't trust me?" Raphael's voice dropped an octave or two, playful and just a little threatening.

You felt his breath on your face (cherries?) and the next second you stopped feeling your legs. The attraction that had been simmering inside you for months started boiling over.

Breathe. Pretend it's not Raphael. A man came up to you in a coffee shop and asked you if you trusted him in that kind of tone, leaning in like that. You know what the sensible thing to do would be - get up and walk away. And if it really was Raphael, get up and run away. 

You remained seated and stayed. 

"Just, ugh..." was all you managed to get out of the jumbled thoughts in your head; two coherent sentences so far into the conversation, and both of them made you sound like an absolute madwoman. 

Raphael laughed.

"Of course you don't trust me, that's only prudent, and you seem to be quite an intelligent young lady. But just so we are clear, you and I: you have nothing to fear from me. What is that number of yours?"

Quite an intelligent young lady, the words echoed in your mind and you remembered your naughty anonymous Tumblr confession: I would suck every last drop of cum out of him as long as he kept praising me.

God, everything you've read with him in the main role. Double penetration, double vaginal penetration, pet play... you weren't even into half of it. You hoped Raphael didn’t think you actually wanted him to do all of the things you read with you.

You just liked clicking on random links.

"Do you need something to write it down or...?" you asked hesitantly.

"I will remember," he said curtly. “I do not forget things easily”.

You realised that there was something far more frightening than anything that had happened before: that he wouldn't remember, that he would never call you, and that this conversation and this meeting would end there. 

So you carefully enunciated each number, then took a pen from your pocket and wrote it down on a napkin: it seemed romantic in the movies, but your handwriting and the coffee stain made it look like a secret message from the madhouse.

He grinned and tucked the napkin into the pocket of his suit.

He took the last sip of coffee and then took your hand in his. He touched you. His skin was warm and real and soft and everything you had ever imagined, his touch surprisingly tender. 

Your whole body responded to that tiny crumb of affection, viscerally. You hadn't realized how famished you were for a touch until that moment.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed them against yours. His lips were soft too, slightly damp from the coffee.

"I am looking forward to our rendezvous," Raphael murmured against your palm. "Ver much so."

Rendezvous.

In any other situation, a middle-aged man kissing your hand would be downright creepy. But this... this was a fever dream, an illusion, anything but reality. Because there was no way this madness could actually be happening to you.

Was it a bad thing? Was reality ever... this? So unpredictable? So exciting? 

You only snapped out of it when the door closed behind him, but you snapped out hard. You practically threw yourself at the next table, where a group of guys were sitting, their appearance screaming video games - backpacks and scruffy beards, Warhammer-emblazoned T-shirts. 

You grabbed one by the shoulder and hissed urgently: "Guys-guys-guys-guys." Your words came like rapid fire. "Tell me that guy doesn't look exactly like Raphael from Baldur's Gate? That one? On the street behind the window?" 

Damn, you sounded desperate.

"Ah, sorry, never played it," came the nonchalant reply before he turned back to his friends' conversation.

"Baldur's Gate," chimed in another, his face lighting up. "Amazing game. Looks like who?"

"Raphael," you said. "The devil."

The guy laughed, but didn't even look where you were pointing.

"Ah, the two-pump chump?"

You shot a quick glance at Raphael. His eyes met yours through the glass window, and they were cold now; his smile was gone. 

I didn't say that, you pleaded with him in your thoughts. That guy said that. That guy over there. I would never say that.

Your defence of his bed skills stretched from Reddit to Tumblr threads, you argued that Haarlep was slandering him, that Raphael was the best fuck there ever was and you personally vouched for that because you fucked him a thousand times in your head.

"Don't call him that, please," you whispered to the guy. He gave you a confused look when you pointed at Raphael again: "Look at him. The one staring at us. Does he look like him?

Is he real? Do you see him too?

"Ah yes," he admitted with a grin on his face, raising the cup of coffee to his lips, "he sort of does. Yes, he does! Well, I hope he doesn't...oh shit! FUCK!".

The guy's face contorted in pain as he clutched his mouth, jumping, cursing, tears streaming down his face. You could see the skin on his lips reddening and blistering.

"What the fuck?! It's fucking boiling! FUCK! "

The barista rushed over to him, spewing apologies as she tried to handle the situation. You took a step back and glanced at Raphael whose lips were moving subtly - two syllables that matched rhythmically: 'bye-bye' or maybe 'ciao-ciao'. 

It didn't have to be 'ta-ta'. He waved nonchalantly at you.

You waved back.

NEXT: Chapter 3, In Which Larian Introduces The Raphael Romance

[hischierswhore]

cindy lou who

i'm back, and just in time for ficmas! this was inspired by sabrina carpenter’s song “cindy lou who”. i highly recommend listening to it as you read 🎄

pairing: lando norris x ex!reader

You, Kika, Alex, Carmen, and Lily all sat around your Christmas tree as you began your Secret Santa exchange. It was a girls' night, and you all thought this would be the best way to spend your final girls' night before Christmas.

The holiday spirit was evident within your cozy little flat, as the elegant pink and white ornaments decorated your tree and the pine-scented candles spread a wonderful aroma throughout your home.

"Oh my gosh, this is adorable! Which one of you got me this?" Lily questioned, looking around at each girl, trying to see who could barely contain their smile.

When Lily got to you, her bright smile slightly fell into a frown.

"Y/n? Is everything alright?" She asked as she rested her hand on yours, the contact waking you from the daydream you were in.

"Oh yeah. All is good!" You gave her and the rest of the group a thumbs up.

Truthfully, you were reminiscing on last Christmas. It was the last one you spent with your now ex-boyfriend Lando. This time last year you were at his house, kissing underneath the mistletoe.

After a few more Secret Santa reveals, the whole exchange was over. You picked up your phone and began to scroll through Instagram. As you scrolled, you saw a glimpse of Lando, leading you to scroll back to view it properly.

I saw you laughing in one of his pictures But you'll be the one with his ring on your finger There's red and green everywhere But I'm so blue Cindy Lou Who

You felt your stomach drop when you came across the photo of Lando... with a girl. She was stunning. Her long brown hair curled to perfection. The smile on her face was bright and huge. Her arms wrapped around Lando's neck. Her eyes weren't on the camera, they were on Lando.

He was smiling back at the girl. You wondered who took the photo, or rather, who captured them in that moment, and why did they want to torture you for the rest of your life?

You turned your phone off, desperately trying to find something to distract yourself with. You looked at the tree, you looked at the candles. You stupidly looked at the picture frame that was placed right in front of your TV. The one that had a picture of you and the girls. The picture that had replaced the one of you and Lando from Christmas 2 years ago. The frame that always reminded you of him.

Maybe he met you somewhere in the desert While he was soul-searching, he found someone better Guess you make him happy like I couldn't do Cindy Lou Who

As the night went on, you began to think of the girl in the picture. When did they meet & was it after what you had assumed was going to be a sort break?

Your breakup with Lando was a result of him claiming that he needed space to find who he truly was. You understood, but you always thought he'd come back for you when he was ready.

Now it seems as though you were never part of his plans after his "self-discovery".

You couldn't ignore the fact that he looked happy with this girl. He hadn't looked that happy with you in a long time. It pained you to see how happy he was without you in his life. His smile, the one you loved to see, was now causing you so much pain.

With your hair so long, lips so red Maybe we met once I forget Scrolling five years back, I'm obsessed Breaking my heart 'Tis the season I guess

After successfully distracting yourself with a Christmas movie that you watched with your girls, everyone was beyond tired and headed home. You dragged yourself to your bed, grabbed your pillow, and put it over your head. You were so done with the holiday season.

You tossed and turned for what felt like hours, when in reality it was just 30 minutes. You knew you shouldn't, but you did it anyways. You picked up your phone and went back to Lando's post. You clicked on the girl's tag and pulled up her profile.

Your breathing faltered as you were met with the brunette's feed: it was basically just pictures of her and Lando. You scrolled all the way down until you were five years back. She was a model, so of course Lando fell in love with her.

Just as you scrolled to the top and refreshed the profile, a new post appeared on her feed. It was a picture of the girl and Lando, her red lips pressed against Lando's underneath the mistletoe. You tried to hold back tears as you looked over the photo, along with the caption.

"meet me under the mistletoe :)"

If you're waking up now in his old bed At his family's house, know that you're just Breaking my heart 'Tis the season I guess

You desperately wanted to tell him how you felt, but it was no use. Lando had moved on and he appeared to be in love, but you were in love with him too. You never stopped, and now there was nothing you could do to get him back.

The snow's gonna fall and the tree's gonna glisten And I'm gonna puke at the thought of you kissin' The boy who I love is now in love with you Cindy Lou Who

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