#think is ..just wrong.. it rubs me the wrong way all the defense she gets
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stella could have been more fleshed out by at this point the of stella is grating to me. she will never beatrice horseman and honestly Beatrice SUCKS.. I thinks she's the worse tv mom and deserves nothing. but im sstarting to side eye the defense stella gets.. she did try to kill her husband.. like.. cheating is no excuse to kill your spouse. .esp in a loveless marriage. . im not saying stolas is an innocent did nothing wrong ever guy.. his treatment of blitz wasn't the best and he could do better by octaiva. aBut. woman can be abusers, mothers can be a abusers and im getting fed up by all the defense someone who tried to kill her husband and is most likely not a great mom either.. .. no one knows how to enjoy villains without going on the its their victim thats the real problem in fandoms. i've seen this done in other fandoms and its grating. like stolas or not he was a victim of stella. .
Woman can abuse men.. .
. She has a cool design, I enjoy her personality and i do wish it hadn't been an arranged marrriage and a fallout due to boredom.. but it just wasnt.. and with the plot we get its leading me to belive people don think women can be awful to their male partner. . ..
it be nice to see people just.. enjoy villians.. without villizaing their victim.
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hyuckiefluff · 21 days ago
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dr dreamy | na jaemin
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pairing: doctor!neighbor! na jaemin x fem.reader genre & wc: smut, fluff, crack (ish) | 18k summary: in which your infuriatingly hot neighbor ends up getting your box of sex toys delivered to his door by mistake content warning: explicit smut, breast play, oral sex (fem.receiving), brief mentions of sex toy usage, teasing, marking, dry humping, cowgirl (yeehaw), alcohol consumption, monster cawwwk jaemin (i didn’t make this up it’s real) a/n: hiiiii yes yes i know, it’s been forever and ive neglected you all so bad i’m so sorry ! i can’t even use the excuse of being too busy bc i was just in the worst writing slump of my life. but i hope i can make up for all those 10 months of radio silence with this long fic :) also it’s pretty different from what i’m used to writing. for once i wrote it all in lowercase bc i felt like this was lowkey a pretty unserious fic and that was the vibe it required lol it’s also my first time trying to write something “funny” but my humor is not that good still i tried lolz. also i'd like to add that i know as much about doctors as the next person so don't expect much accuracy in that regard. anyways hope you enjoy :)
your leg bounced anxiously as you stared at the photo the delivery guy sent, trying to figure out which door your package had ended up on. every single door in your building was the same plain white with no decoration, no plants, no quirky doormat to offer a clue. just a long, boring hallway of identical doors, and somewhere behind one of them was your package. 
"great," you muttered, already feeling the creeping frustration in your chest. 
your phone buzzed in your hand, and you barely had time to glance at the screen before answering. 
"sooo," came minnie's voice, far too chipper for this disaster, "did you like my gift?” 
“i’m gonna strangle you,” you hissed, rubbing your temples. 
“woah, you know i’m not into that freaky shit.” 
“i’m serious, minnie,” you groaned, dragging a hand through your hair. “the package got delivered to a different apartment. you must’ve put the wrong number on it.” 
“no way,” she gasped, already on the defensive. “i literally double-checked. triple-checked, even. it’s apartment 235.” 
"what?” you yelled, nearly dropping your phone.
this can’t be happening. out of all the apartments in your building… it had to be that one?
“minnie…” you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm, "it’s 236. apartment 236.” 
she paused. “oh.” 
you heard her laugh nervously, and it took everything in you not to throw your phone across the room. 
“minnie…” you groaned, pressing your forehead against the wall. “i swear, if it’s what i think it is based on our last conversation…” your voice trailed off as a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. “my next-door neighbor, minnie. MINNIE. jaemin…oh my god.” 
“wait,” she said, voice sharp with interest. “is that the doctor you said is too hot for his own good?” 
“i did not say that.” 
“you did.” 
“no, i said he’s just… a nice sight for my eyes, okay? in a building full of old people, sue me for appreciating the view.” you rubbed at your face. “but i can’t face him if he saw what’s in that package. i just can’t.” 
“listen…” minnie drawled. “what if he’s into it, though? think about it.” 
“i’m hanging up.” 
“no, wait—” but you pressed the red button before she could finish.  
the most mortifying experience of your 24 years on this planet, and it hadn’t even fully happened yet. but you could see it clear as day: the box, him opening it innocently, and its contents—oh, god, the contents.  
the thing is, you and minnie had a dumb tradition. whenever life got a little too miserable or stressful, you’d send each other gifts. random, stupid stuff. a manga you’d been talking about, or a plushie of your favorite sanrio character. the catch was you could never reveal what it was until it was opened. it was supposed to be a surprise.  
except this time, you were sure minnie’s idea of a "surprise" was directly inspired by your recent rants about being, well… frustrated. as in, the sexual kind of frustration. you had a strong hunch about what she’d sent. 
you sank into the couch, letting out a long sigh. you had two choices: go over there and pray he hadn’t opened it, or stay here and hope the ground swallowed you whole. both seemed equally unlikely.  
as you stared at the ceiling, someone knocked on the door.  
three soft knocks. 
your heart stopped, your body jolting so hard you nearly rolled off the couch. no. no, no, no. not him. please not him. 
you tiptoed to the door like a cartoon burglar, eyes wide with panic. don’t answer. if you don’t answer, he’ll just leave it. you could grab it later. it’s fine. everything’s fine. 
but as you got closer, you heard the softest shuffle from the other side. he was still there. you peeked through the peephole and there he was indeed… jaemin. your very handsome, very distinguished doctor neighbor. standing there, holding your box.  
you backed away from the door like it was about to explode. no, nope, you’d just wait until he— 
you bumped into the side table. hard. and in a moment of unfiltered pain, you yelled, “FUCK!” loud enough to echo down the hall. 
a long pause. 
“hello?” his voice was clear through the door. smooth, polite. 
you shut your eyes so tight you saw stars. letting him think you weren’t home was six feet under now. 
"just get it over with," you muttered to yourself, quickly checking your appearance in the mirror to make sure you didn’t look at destroyed as you felt.
you opened the door with the kind of smile you'd give a police officer who just pulled you over. "oh! good morning, neighbor!" you practically chirped, voice too high, too fake. 
he smiled, sleepy but devastatingly handsome. his scrubs hung perfectly off his frame, and his hair was tousled like he'd just came from a long night shift…which he probably did. he had the kind of face that made you think life has favorites.
“morning,” he said, nodding his head. “sorry to bother you so early, but this…” he held up the box, fingers tapping the side of it. tap tap tap your eye twitched. “this got delivered to my place by mistake.” 
he was so calm. too calm. 
“oh,” you squeaked, your voice barely functional. “uh, yeah! no worries at all! my friend sent it, haha, she’s… forgetful like that. really bad with numbers. haha…” you trailed off. kill me now.
“right,” he said, eyes flicking to the box. “well, here you go.” he held it out to you. 
you reached for it but your hands, slick with nervous sweat, betrayed you. the box slipped.  
“oh no-”  
thud.
everything.  
everything spilled out.  
time slowed. your heart dropped straight into hell. 
boxes. bottles. wrappers.  
and then the pièce de résistance.  
a sex doll. 
a life-size, anatomically correct, male sex doll.
you didn’t know what kind of sound you made, but it was something between a gasp and a whimper. your knees hit the floor as you scrambled to grab everything wishing you could somehow erase the last five seconds of reality.  
“oh my god,” you whispered, cramming the boxes into your arms. “oh my god. oh my god.”  
“uhm,” he cleared his throat and you didn’t even have to look up to know what kind of face he was making. there were no words for this. none. zero.  
“thank you for bringing it to me! bye!” you choked out, voice cracking on the last syllable as you grabbed what you could and slammed the door shut with the force of a hurricane. 
you pressed your back to the door, sinking to the floor, arms full of colorful boxes of shame. you stared at them.  
a vibrator. a bottle of lube. a very, very anatomically correct doll still half in its box.  
"minnie." you said her name like a curse.  
your phone buzzed. it was a text from her. 
minnie (6:18am): how’d it go?  
“hell,” you muttered, tossing your phone across the room. 
you sat there for what felt like hours, the weight of embarrassment crushing down on you. moving out suddenly seemed like the only reasonable option. scratch that, you were moving countries. or planets. was mars habitable yet?
♡ ♡ ♡
for the next few days, life was nothing short of miserable. you called in sick to work because there was no way you could leave your apartment and risk running into jaemin. the idea of seeing him again made your stomach twist into knots. to anyone else, it might seem dramatic—after all, owning sex toys wasn’t some scandalous crime—but the sheer context of it all was unbearable. 
the cherry on top was that the box had clearly already been opened. jaemin had definitely seen what was inside before you’d even dropped it. and the fact that he just pretended everything was normal while standing there with a straight face? it was almost worse. no, it was worse. because now he probably pitied you for dropping it in front of him even after he tried to save you from the embarrassment. 
you groaned, burying your face into the couch cushions. where was the armageddon when you needed it?
you hadn’t left your spot in the couch days, and your body was starting to hate you for it. your back ached from the awkward angle you were lying in, and your stomach growled because you’d panic-eaten the last of your food last night. 
“this is pathetic,” you muttered, grabbing your phone. 
after scrolling aimlessly for a few minutes, you reluctantly opened your food delivery app. you ordered enough food for at least two days and prayed the delivery guy would bring it to your door. but of course, life hated you, so when you got the “can’t find parking” text, you sighed loudly. 
“naturally,” you mumbled, dragging yourself off the couch. 
you threw on the most disguising outfit you could find: a black beanie, your puffy winter coat, and oversized sunglasses. did you look like a wannabe celebrity trying to dodge the paparazzi? sure. but desperate times called for desperate measures. 
you texted the driver a quick be right down and bolted to the elevator, keeping your head low. 
when you reached the parking lot, you practically snatched the bag out of the driver’s hands and mumbled a quick thank you before rushing back inside. you were so close to safety now. 
you stepped into the elevator and leaned against the wall, finally letting out a sigh of relief. but, as fate would have it, you celebrated just a tad too soon. 
just before the doors closed, a hand shot through the gap. you froze. 
you smelled him first.
that cologne. you’d know it anywhere. 
your heart sank as jaemin stepped into the elevator, looking unfairly handsome as usual. you, on the other hand, looked like a fugitive. 
“good afternoon,” he said politely, his voice calm and smooth. 
“hi, uh…afternoon,” you mumbled, holding the bag of food up to your face like a shield. maybe if you hid behind it long enough, he wouldn’t notice it was you. 
“y/n?” 
shit. 
you glanced at him reluctantly, offering an awkward laugh. “oh, hey, jaemin… didn’t realize it was you.” you pushed your sunglasses up onto your head. “these things are so dark.” 
he chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “didn’t recognize you either. are you coming from an event or something?” 
you blinked at him, realizing how ridiculous your outfit must look. “oh, no, i—uh… i have a cold,” you stammered. “just trying to stay warm, you know?” 
“ah,” he nodded, his expression softening. “well, you should rest up. drink plenty of water and maybe some tea with honey, it helps soothe your throat. oh, and—” 
he started rattling off doctorly advice and you could only stare at him, dumbfounded. because, of course, not only was he handsome, but he was kind, too. unfair. completely unfair. 
“thanks,” you said, cutting him off before he could get too deep into his list of remedies. 
he smiled at you again, and for a moment, you swore your heart skipped a beat. “i was actually a little worried,” he admitted, leaning against the elevator wall casually. “i haven’t seen you around the past few days.” 
“oh. uh… yeah,” you said weakly, shifting the food bag in your hands. “just been laying low, don’t wanna get anyone sick.” 
“i see,” he said, his tone light but teasing. “you’re not hiding from me, are you?” 
your eyes widened, and your breath caught in your throat. was it that obvious?
“what? no! why would i be hiding from you?” you forced out a laugh, but it sounded fake even to your ears. 
he raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching like he was fighting a grin. “hmm. just checking.” 
“yeah, it’s because of the cold” you muttered, fidgeting with the handle of the food bag. “it’s nothing serious, though. i appreciate the concern.” you tried to sound nonchalant, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you. 
“good to hear,” he said, his eyes still on you. “but still, if it doesn’t get better in a few days, you should probably see a doctor.” 
“right. definitely,” you nodded quickly, eyes glued to the little numbers above the elevator door, silently willing them to move faster. 
but of course, the universe hated you lately. the elevator suddenly jerked to a stop, too soon for your floor. you flinched, and before you could even begin to hope it was just a regular stop, the overhead lights flickered once, then twice, and then… nothing. 
darkness. 
“oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groaned, tilting your head back against the cold elevator wall. 
“well,” jaemin’s voice came through the darkness, and you could hear the grin in it, “this is bad timing, huh?” 
“this is my villain origin story,” you muttered, crossing your arms as you slid down to sit on the floor. “this is how i finally snap and become one of those people who yell at customer service workers.” 
he laughed, and you hated how nice it sounded. like melted chocolate. warm, smooth, and way too easy to get addicted to. 
“guess we’re stuck for a bit,” he said, sitting across from you. you could only make out the faintest outline of him in the dim emergency lighting. “not a bad person to be stuck with, though.” 
“yeah, lucky you,” you deadpanned, cradling your bag of food. 
there was a pause. not an awkward one but it felt somewhat intimate and you didn’t like it. not because you felt uncomfortable but because you were scared of embarrassing yourself further.
“hey,” he spoke up again, softer this time. “about the other day…” 
no. absolutely not. this was not happening. 
“nope,” you cut him off, waving a hand like you could physically swat the topic away. “we don’t talk about that. ever.” 
“but i think we should—” 
“we don’t, jaemin,” you said firmly, pointing at him like a scolding parent. “it never happened. you never saw it. i never dropped it. in fact, none of it exists. it was a shared hallucination caused by gas leaks in the building. that’s my story, and i’m sticking to it.” 
he snorted, hiding a laugh behind his hand. “gas leaks?” 
“yep. toxic fumes. real health hazard,” you nodded, doubling down. “you should probably get management to check that out, doctor.” 
“i’m a neurosurgeon, not an HVAC technician,” he shot back, amused. 
“same difference,” you muttered. 
another pause. you could feel him looking at you, even in the dimness. 
“for what it’s worth,” he started slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully, “i wasn’t judging you.” 
“good,” you mumbled, picking at a loose thread on your coat. “because i’m not like ashamed of it, just… mortified, you know?” you finally glanced up at him, feeling a little braver in the low light. “there’s a difference.” 
he nodded, eyes warm and understanding in a way that made your chest ache. “there is.” 
you sighed, letting your head fall back against the wall. “i’m moving. i’ve decided.” 
he laughed, full and bright. “you’re not moving.” 
“i am, actually,” you insisted. “gonna change my name, get a new identity. maybe move to the mountains. live off the grid. it’s the only way.” 
“you’re ridiculous,” he said, still grinning. 
“you say that like it’s news.” 
silence settled over you both again, but this time it was lighter. less suffocating. you could hear him shift, stretching his legs out in front of him. he tapped his fingers against his knees like he was keeping time to a song only he could hear. 
“so,” he said after a beat, voice low and casual. “was that, uh… the first time you ordered something like that?” 
your whole face went hot.
“jaemin,” you warned. 
“what?” he asked, the picture of innocence. “just curious.” 
“don’t make me call those toxic fumes back in here,” you threatened, pointing a stern finger at him. 
he threw his head back laughing, and despite yourself, you smiled too.
"fine, i won’t bring it up anymore,” he said with a tired smile, rubbing the back of his neck. his fingers pressed into the muscle there, and he winced slightly. 
“you okay?” you asked, glancing at him with concern. 
“yeah, just a long day at work,” he replied, rolling his shoulder like it’d been bothering him for hours. 
“yeah, i can imagine. the life of a doctor must be pretty hectic,” you said, eyes flicking to his hands as they worked over the tense muscle. “but you gotta know your limits too… you’re not made of steel, you know.” there was a hint of worry in your voice, and you tried not to let it show too much, but judging by the way he glanced at you, he caught it. 
he looked at you for a moment, longer than usual, before nodding. “you’re right,” he let out a short breath. “i guess i’ve been burying myself in work lately. but it’s hard not to when it’s this time of the year… i’m a pediatric neurosurgeon and too many kids get sick and hurt during the summer.” 
“oh, definitely. i’m not even a kid and i always get sick in the summer,” you joked, hoping to lighten the mood. 
he laughed at that, his grin easy and genuine. “never too late to have fun during the summer,” he said, leaning back against the elevator wall. “just not too much fun. can’t party too hard with a cold.” 
“do i look like the kind of person who parties too hard?” you raised an eyebrow at him. 
“hmm,” he tilted his head with a slight (cute) pout. “i wouldn’t know. we don’t know each other that well.” he glanced at you, eyes flicking over you just once before smirking. “but you’re young and pretty, so why not?” 
your heart stumbled in your chest, and you fought to keep your face neutral. did he seriously just call you pretty so casually like it was a fact of life?  the dim lighting of the elevator became your saving grace, hiding the warmth that crept up your neck. 
"want a piece?" you asked, anxiously trying to change the subject, raising the bag of fried chicken in your hands. you shook it lightly to emphasize. "i have a feeling we're gonna be stuck here for a while, and it's still warm."
he raised an eyebrow, his grin widening into something a little playful. “don’t mind if i do.” 
he moved closer, close enough that your shoulders almost brushed, and you set the bag down in front of you both. “dig in,” you said gesturing with your hands toward the chicken.
“so… you’re a doctor…” you said after a couple minutes of eating in silence. 
“last time i checked, yeah,” he replied, glancing over at you with a faint smile. 
“so why’d you move into this shabby building with elevators that haven’t been serviced since the stone age?” you asked, pausing to tear into a chicken wing with zero grace or subtlety.
he stared at you, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of your question or the feral way in which you were eating. 
“i’m a resident, so i don’t make nearly as much as people think. plus, med school debt is no joke. this place fit the budget.” 
“oh,” you muttered, suddenly feeling a little awkward. “sorry if that sounded kinda judgy. people tell me i’ve got a chronic case of big mouth syndrome.” 
“it’s fine,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “at least you’re honest.” 
“what about you?” he asked, tilting his head toward you. 
“me? oh same story, different font. drowning in student debt, and this place was… available,” you said, popping another wing into your mouth. 
he nodded, and after that, the conversation picked up, flowing so naturally you forgot you’d technically only been speaking to him for a week. before that you had only shared neighborly greetings in the hallway.
you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until the elevator jolted suddenly, the lights flickering back on with a low, mechanical hum. 
by then, the bag of chicken was empty, and you knew more about jaemin than you ever expected to learn in one night.
♡ ♡ ♡
“i thought elevators had some kind of emergency backup power for blackouts,” minnie said, her face pixelated on your phone screen. 
“yeah but this building’s like 60 years old,” you muttered, adjusting the camera so she could see you better. you were sitting on the floor, painting your toenails a fresh shade of lavender. “the fact that it even has an elevator is a miracle.” 
“true, true,” minnie nodded, chewing on a piece of candy. her eyes lit up suddenly. “by the way, why does your sexy doctor live there? i thought doctors were supposed to be loaded.” she propped her chin on her hand. 
“he told me he just started his residency,” you explained, blowing gently on your freshly painted nails. “and he just started a new job at the hospital. they don’t get paid that well when they’re starting out.” 
“hmm,” she hummed knowingly. “so you spend a few hours stuck in an elevator with him, and suddenly you’re an expert on the medical field, huh?” 
you rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. “it’s called having a normal conversation, you should try it”  
“i’m just saying,” minnie teased, tossing a gummy bear into her mouth. “you went in there hiding from him, and you ended up sharing chicken and life stories. i see you.”  
“there is nothing to see,” you shot back, tossing a pillow at your phone screen like she could actually feel it.  
“mm-hmm,” she hummed, leaning forward “so, did he mention it?”  
“mention what?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.  
“the box,” she said ominously, dragging out the word like it belonged in a horror movie trailer.  
you froze. “he tried to,” you admitted, tapping your fingers on the pillow in your lap. “but i shut him down real quick.”  
“oho, look at you,” she said, leaning back impressed. “miss assertive, didn’t think you had it in you.”  
“i have more pillows to throw, minnie. don’t test me.”  
“yeah, yeah, violent tendencies aside,” she waved you off, completely immune to your threats. “i hope this new confidence means you’re finally putting my gifts to use.” she tilted her head with the most innocent smile, which made it all the more sinister.  
your face went hot. so, so hot.
“i haven’t,” you lied, voice a little too high.  
“liar,” she sang, leaning closer to the camera. “i can see your shifty eyes. you definitely tried it.”  
“okay, fine, i did!” you snapped, throwing your hands up. “but it was a disaster.”  
minnie perked up with curiosity. “oh?”  
“yeah, oh,” you repeated, scratching your head. “it just… didn’t hit. it felt weird and i got frustrated, so i just gave up. plus i don’t know where you got that vibrator from but it almost burned my girlypop”  
“rookie mistake,” she sighed shaking her head dramatically. “that’s why you need someone with experience to help you out.”  
your brows furrowed. “what are you even saying right now?”  
“i’m saying,” she grinned like the devil himself, “that you have a perfectly qualified medical professional living right next door. i’m sure dr. mcdreamy wouldn’t mind giving you a consultation.”  
you blinked once. “minnie, you’re actually sick in the head.”  
“oh, please.” she tossed her hair over her shoulder, rolling her eyes. “he’s hot, he’s single, and you’ve already done half the work. you were sitting there eating fried chicken, and you’re telling me he kept throwing compliments at you? we all know you eat chicken like a truck driver, and he still thought you were pretty. use your resources, babe.”  
“he was hungry and stuck. he was probably grateful i offered him food. what else was he supposed to do?”  
“it’s so much more than that,” she said, holding up a hand, a clear signal for you to shut up and pay attention.  “i know when a man is laying the foundation and trust me, he’s building a whole mansion with your name on it.”
“you’re fully overreacting right now.”
one of minnie's strengths was that she wasn’t one to give up easily. but that also ended up being one of her flaws. you knew for a fact she wouldn’t drop this jaemin thing until she proved he had a thing for you.
“seriously, though,” she continued, leaning in so close her face was the whole screen. “he’s a doctor which means he’s like literally obligated to help people. it’s in the oath or something.”
“your point is..?”
“you know” she raised her brows suggestively “experienced hands, medical precision, and he owes you one for that chicken dinner. it’s the perfect setup.”
“you’re insane… like actually seek help.” you shook your head, trying to sound firm, but you were laughing too much to sell it.
“i’m serious,” she laughed along, “you literally blush whenever you talk about him. oh and you can’t even say his name without smiling.”
“that’s not true,” you said, shifting your position on the couch like that would somehow make your denial more convincing.
“mmhm,” she squinted her eyes, clearly not believing you.
“and for the record,” you added, jabbing your finger at the screen, “not every attractive man i meet is getting sexualized in my head. i’m not a beast.”
“no, you’re just a liar,” she shot back with a wide grin. “be real for like two seconds. i can see you smiling so hard right now.”  
“you can’t see anything,” you said, voice sharper now. “it’s the pixelation. your wifi is ass.”
“nice try,” she said, drawing out the words. “i know a bashful grin when i see one.”
“you stress me out,” you muttered, twisting the cap back on your nail polish with a little too much force.
“and yet, you call me every day.” she propped her chin on her palm, smile pure menace.
“i guess i’m a masochist,” you sighed, leaning back on the couch. “tragic, really.”
“mmhm, tragic is right,” she said, eyes narrowing into little crescents. “because now i’m gonna be your maid of honor at this wedding i didn’t even prepare for.”
“goodbye, minnie,” you deadpanned, reaching for the end call button.
“goodbye, future mrs. mcdreamy.” she winked at the camera, and before you could curse her out, she hung up.  
you sat there for a second, staring at your phone’s home screen, lips pressed tight.  
delusional.
she was delusional.
but that didn’t stop you from thinking about jaemin’s stupid grin. the way he’d looked at you while eating fried chicken, casual but present, like he was really there in the moment with you. the way his eyes lingered, just for a second too long.  
you shook your head, shoving the thought away like minnie’s words had wormed their way into your subconscious.  
nope.
you capped the nail polish, shoved your phone aside, and focused on literally anything else.  
♡ ♡ ♡
over the next few days, something shifted. not in a big, dramatic way but in a way you could feel.  
jaemin wasn’t just the polite neighbor you exchanged pleasantries with in the hall anymore. now, every time you saw him, there was this unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air like: we shared fried chicken in a broken elevator for three hours.
 this new attitude towards you was giving you whiplash. he was… extra friendly now. he smiled more, spoke to you first, acted like you were both in on some kind of inside joke. it wasn’t bad… but it wasn’t normal either.  
“morning, y/n,” he’d say as you both waited for the elevator, eyes crinkling like he’d already thought of something funny.   
“morning,” you’d reply, your gaze locked firmly on the floor. the tiles were suddenly fascinating. 
but then you’d catch the faintest trace of his cologne—the same one you’d inhaled way too much of in the elevator—and suddenly, the tiles weren’t so interesting anymore. so you’d try to sneak a glance or two, and when he wore his doctor’s coat and glasses, you couldn’t help but ogle. he was so ridiculously handsome. everything about him practically begged for you to admire. his sharp jawline, his dark eyes framed by impossibly long lashes, his lips always pink and effortlessly moisturized, his hair neatly trimmed in the back but just a bit longer in the front, falling perfectly right above his thick brows.
and he had the most captivating smile, so white it almost blinded you, and despite thinking he was the serious type at first, you quickly realized he was incredibly expressive. he communicated so much with just his brows, and it seemed impossible for him to speak without a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. like what was so funny? that you were crushing hard on him and it was kind of disrupting your life?
he was also too relaxed around you. way too relaxed. how was he so calm when he’d seen you in your most unhinged states? meanwhile, you could still feel the ghost of that moment hovering over you like a neon sign flashing "dildo girl spotted."
the third time you ran into him that week, you almost turned around to take the stairs, but you weren’t fast enough.  
“caught you,” jaemin said as soon as he spotted you, his grin sharp but not unkind. “thinking of bailing on me?”  
you paused like you were actually considering it. “don’t flatter yourself,” you said, walking forward like you’d planned to all along. “the stairs are just bad for my knees.”  
“oh, is that right?” he asked, stepping aside with a sweep of his hand. "good thing elevators exist, huh?”  
“lucky me,” you muttered, slipping inside. he followed right after, too close for comfort but not close enough to call him out on it.  
“lucky me,” he added, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, head tilted just so. "would’ve missed you otherwise."  
you had to bite back the cough that almost escaped when he said that, his lazy smile firmly in place like always.
you glanced at him, squinting. "what's with you lately?"  
“what do you mean?”  
“this,” you gestured at him vaguely. “all this… talking. you weren’t like this before.”  
“maybe i just needed an excuse,” he said with a nonchalant shrug “and three hours in an elevator with you was a pretty good one.”  
you blinked, momentarily at a loss. what were you even supposed to say to that?  
“did you rehearse that?,” you muttered, turning away before he could see the corner of your mouth twitch.  
“why, is it too corny? but you’re smiling,” he pointed out, you could hear his smile.
“no, i’m not.”  
“you are,” he said confidently, leaning in just a little like he was trying to see it up close. “it’s cute.”  
you flinched back, eyes wide. “don’t say that.”  
“why not?” he grinned wider, clearly pleased with himself. “it’s true.”  
“oh my god.” you turned so far away from him it was a miracle you didn’t phase through the wall. “stop talking.”  
“can’t,” he said, all too happy to keep going. “we’re closer now. shared chicken trauma and all that.”  
“that is not a thing.”  
“it is,” he nodded confidently. “you can’t just sit in a powerless elevator with someone for hours and pretend you’re strangers afterward. that’s, like, scientifically impossible.”  
“scientifically impossible?” you repeated, eyebrows raised. “you’re making things up.”  
“and here you are listening to all of it,” he shot back, tilting his head toward you, his gaze a little too sharp. 
checkmate.
you opened your mouth, ready to respond, but your brain was buffering.. 
"that’s what i thought," he said, his voice low and too satisfied, just as the elevator dinged.  
the doors opened. he didn’t move right away, gaze lingering on you as if he was waiting for something…or maybe just seeing how long you’d hold it.  
“you talk too much,” you muttered, stepping out with your head high like you had the upper hand.  
“I think you like it,” he called after you, the amusement in his voice so obvious you could practically hear the grin on his face.  
your heart did that annoying skip thing, and this time, you didn’t have an excuse for it.  
♡ ♡ ♡
things only got worse after that.  
jaemin, apparently, had decided that you were fun to mess with now.
he wasn’t over-the-top about it, though. no, he was too smooth for that. he played it cool, weaving little comments and actions into your interactions. a smile that lingered too long, leaning in just a little too close when he asked a question, throwing casual compliments like they didn’t mean anything.  
it was unfair, really. he’d gone from the quiet, polite neighbor, the one who worked long shifts at the hospital and mostly kept to himself,  to an actual menace in the span of three days. and somehow, you were the target of all of it.
the first time it happened, you brushed it off as coincidence. the second time, you thought maybe he was just being nice because you shared food with him so perhaps he thought that he owed you. by the third time, you realized: this man was having fun at your expense.
“new hair?” he asked casually one evening as you struggled with your keys outside your door.  
you froze, glancing up at him in confusion. “what?”  
“your hair,” he repeated, nodding toward you. “looks good.”  
your brows furrowed. “it’s the same as always,” you muttered, turning back to the lock that was absolutely refusing to cooperate.  
“huh.” he tilted his head, as if he were genuinely surprised. “then i guess it’s just you.”  
what does that even mean?!
your hands fumbled, and the key slipped from your fingers, clattering to the floor.  
jaemin’s laugh was soft but unmistakably amused. “you okay there?”  
“don’t you have patients to save or something?” you snapped, crouching down to snatch the key off the ground before he even had the chance to get it for you.
“off duty,” he shrugged, leaning against the wall next to you. his smile had that easy confidence you were beginning to associate with him now. “but i’ll step in if you need medical attention. emotional support counts too.”  
you groaned so loud it echoed in the hallway. “i swear, i liked you better when you were quiet.”  
“oh, you like me?” he asked, his grin widening just enough to make your stomach flip in protest.  
“past tense,” you shot back, finally shoving the key into the lock and turning it with more force than necessary.  
“if you say so,” he replied, drawing out the word like he didn’t believe you for a second.  
“you’re insufferable,” you muttered, turning around with your key in hand, gripping it like a weapon. “how do you live with yourself?”  
“one day at a time,” he replied, dead serious.
you shot him a glare as you finally shoved the key into the lock. it turned smoothly this time.  
“maybe you should try it,” he added, just as you opened the door.  
“try what?” you asked, already regretting engaging.  
“living with me,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. he even had the audacity to wink.  
you nearly slammed the door in his face.  
“goodnight, jaemin,” you snapped, stepping inside.  
“sweet dreams, love,” he called after you, his voice warm and smug in a way that lingered.  
you closed the door, locked it, and leaned your head against it with a groan that could only be described as deep emotional fatigue.
“then i guess it’s just you.”
you stayed pressed against the door for a little too long, thinking about it.  
he’s the worst.
the absolute worst.
♡ ♡ ♡
then came the visiting.  
you heard a quiet, rhythmic knock knock knock on your door one night. not frantic, not loud just steady enough to make you pause in the middle of scrolling through your phone.  
you frowned. minnie wasn’t the “surprise visit” type, and you definitely hadn’t ordered food. so who…  
when you opened the door, he was right there. 
jaemin.
he leaned against the doorframe, one arm propped against it, the other tucked into his pocket. his posture was relaxed, but his eyes sparkled with that familiar glint of mischief.
“what do you want?” you asked, gripping the door like it was a shield between you and whatever ridiculousness he was about to say.  
“so rude,” he said, mock-offended, though the lazy grin on his face betrayed him. “you invite a guy to share fried chicken once, and suddenly you’re heartless?”  
“oh, please.” you stepped back slightly, but you didn’t close the door. “i offered it. don’t act like i saved you from a tragic famine.”  
“true,” he agreed, his gaze dropping for a split second, flickering over you like he was trying to catch you off guard. “but since you brought it up, i was thinking about how we never got dessert.”  
you blinked, thrown off by the randomness. “what?”  
“dessert,” he repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “fried chicken’s great and all, but it’s not a complete meal. we missed out.”  
“and what, you came to my door at 9 pm to tell me that?”  
“yep.” he rocked back on his heels, completely unbothered. “i figured you owed me by now.”  
“owed you?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes. “for what, exactly?”  
“emotional support,” he said, grinning like he’d been waiting for you to ask. “that elevator ride? life-changing experience. bonded for life. it’s only fair you buy me dessert.”  
you tried to fight it. you really did. but the laugh slipped out anyway, betraying you.  
his grin widened, the kind that wasn’t just smug… it was triumphant.  
“fine,” you sighed, grabbing your phone off the counter. “but you’re paying next time.”  
“next time?” he echoed, his voice tilting upward just slightly. he leaned forward, close enough that the space between you suddenly felt smaller. “so you’re already planning our next elevator date?”  
oh, this man.
“don’t push your luck,” you muttered, pointing a finger at him while you tapped through your food delivery app. “i might close the door on your face next time.”  
“you like me too much to do that,” he said softly, and this time his tone wasn’t teasing.  
it was smooth, confident, and just low enough to make you glance up without thinking.  
your thumb hovered over your screen for a second too long before you forced yourself to break eye contact. you picked the first dessert you saw just to escape the moment and right before you got to pay he snatched the phone from you and put in his card details.
“so annoying,” you muttered.  
“gentlemanly,” he replied easily.
“you’re lucky i’m too tired to throw you out,” you shot back, already regretting how much you were letting him get away with.  
“lucky?” he asked, smirking. “i’d say you’re the lucky one. who else brings dessert and great company?”  
you groaned, loudly, just to drown him out.  
♡ ♡ ♡
thirty minutes later, you were sitting side by side on your couch, barely an inch between you, sharing a container of chocolate lava cake like it was the most natural thing in the world.  
“don’t hog it,” you grumbled, jabbing at his hand with your spoon when he took an extra-large bite.  
“it’s called portion control,” he argued, entirely unapologetic as he went for another.  
“it’s called stealing,” you shot back, scooping up a bigger piece just to even the playing field.  
“maybe,” he said, glancing at you with that maddening grin. “but you’re letting me get away with it.”  
“only because i don’t want to waste food,” you countered, though your voice lacked the conviction you wanted it to have.  
he leaned back slightly, his shoulder brushing against yours in a way that felt too casual to be an accident.  
“you’re really bad at lying, you know that?” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make you pause.  
you turned to glare at him, spoon still in hand, but the words caught in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you.  
he wasn’t grinning anymore. not exactly.  
it wasn’t a smirk or a joke or one of those teasing little quips he always threw your way. it was… softer. almost curious.  
your heart stuttered before you could stop it.  
“and you’re annoying,” you said again, but this time it came out quieter.  
his lips twitched, like he was holding back a laugh.  
“you already said that but i think it loses meaning when you let me hang out with you for this long,”  he murmured.  
you didn’t reply. you couldn’t. not when the air felt so… different.  
so instead, you turned back to the TV, grabbed another spoonful of lava cake, and shoved it into your mouth as an excuse to not say anything.  
he chuckled softly, the sound barely audible over the hum of the TV.  
♡ ♡ ♡
the next few days went by pretty much the same. whenever you bumped into jaemin in the hallway, the parking lot, or even at the local cafe, his eyes would lock on you like a heat-seeking missile, ready to tease you in a way that you hated to admit was starting to feel oddly enjoyable.
but everything escalated the day minnie came to visit you.
it had been a while since you two last saw each other, given that she lived in a different city. as soon as she arrived, you were buzzing with excitement. but you’d forgotten one crucial thing… minnie had a rare, borderline supernatural ability to drive you absolutely insane.
“i can't believe you had a second chicken date with him and still didn’t jump his bones… have i taught you nothing?” she said, exasperated as she popped a handful of popcorn into her mouth. dawson’s creek reruns were playing in the background, and as if that show didn’t depress you enough, minnie’s relentless criticism of your non-existent love life was making it worse.
“it wasn’t a chicken date,” you groaned. “we had cake. and why would i jump his bones when we’ve only just started speaking more than two words to each other like, last week?”
“you don’t get it,” minnie said, turning to face you with the gravity of someone about to lecture you. “a man doesn’t just knock on your door asking you to have dessert with him unless he has a different idea of what 'dessert' is.” she raised her eyebrows suggestively.
“ew, don’t make that face,” you winced. 
“i’m serious, y/n. if you keep shutting down every man that’s interested in you, the only dick you’ll get is that inflatable one i got you.”
“not even,” you sighed, slumping against the couch. “i haven’t taken it out of the box yet. and i won’t. that thing already embarrassed me enough for the next two lifetimes.”
“but if you think about it, if it weren’t for tom, you’d still be secretly crushing on dr. mcdreamy.”
“you did not just name the sex doll tom,” you said, eyes narrowing.
“i think we should at least go out tonight since you’re clearly not gonna put the moves on your sexy neighbor.”
“absolutely not,” you shook your head, pulling the blanket tighter around you. “ i’m not about to waste my night talking to any guy who thinks 'intellectual debate' means arguing about protein powder.”
“okay, harsh… no wonder you’re single,” she muttered as she got up and started tapping away on her phone.
“who’re you calling?” you asked, squinting at her suspiciously.
“there’s only one person who can drag you out of this apartment,” she muttered with a sly grin. "hold on—hello? jake? yeah, guess who i’m with right now?" she paused dramatically, glancing at you with a wicked smile. "your favorite girl, obviously!" she snickered, tilting her phone just enough to snap a photo of you mid-protest. 
“dude, c’mon, i’m in my grandma pjs right now,” you said, pointing at the flowery pajama top you were wearing.
“how about we meet up at the neo club? yeah? awesome, and bring one of your hot friends,” she added, grinning like a cat that just cornered a bird.
she hung up, looking triumphant, but you folded your arms with a scowl.
“there’s no way i’m going out,” you said flatly.
♡ ♡ ♡
you still ended up going out.
but only because they offered to pay for all your drinks, and who were you to refuse such a generous offer?
it didn’t take long to spot jake. he was already stirring up trouble at the bar, his charm dialed up to 100 as he leaned in close, tossing out some line that had the bartender blushing so hard she had to look away just to keep it together.
“ugh, casanovas make me sick,” you grumbled, scrunching your nose as you watched him.
“stop harassing the lady, jake,” minnie said, grabbing him by the collar and tugging him away from the bar. he turned around with a mock-offended gasp.
“excuse you, she was absolutely enjoying that,” he said with an infuriating level of confidence. he wasn’t even wrong—the bartender was still grinning.
“whatever, tiger. look who’s out of her cave!” minnie announced, shoving you forward slightly.
jake’s eyes lit up the second he saw you. he practically lunged forward, wrapping you in a bear hug and lifting you off the ground.
“no way! my y/n! it’s been, what, four years since i last saw you?” he spun you in a small circle before finally setting you down.
“please don’t be so dramatic. we saw each other last year on your birthday,” you laughed, shoving his chest.
“too long for me, babe. you know seeing you is always a treat,” he said, giving you one of those overly saccharine smiles he knew would make you roll your eyes.
“when are you ever not flirting? is that your default mode? is there any way to reset you?” you said, tapping his forehead like you were trying to reboot a broken phone.
“you know you love it,” he winked, and somehow it was both annoying and charming at the same time.
“anyways, where are the drinks i was promised?” you extended a hand expectantly.
“here you go, princess,” he said, handing you a tequila sunrise with a flourish. “and here you go, troll,” he added, handing minnie a margarita.
“i’ll kill you,” minnie slapped his arm hard enough to make him flinch.
“ow, abuse! abuse!” he cried dramatically, clutching his arm as if he’d been mortally wounded.
“you’ll live,” minnie muttered, taking a sip from her glass.
the night was already off to a wild start, and you had a sinking feeling it was only going to get worse.
♡ ♡ ♡
“so you’re telling me the box with all the freaky shit minnie sent ended up being delivered to your neighbor?” jake was practically doubled over, clutching his stomach from laughing so hard. “and he opened it?”
“yeah, laugh it up,” you said, unamused as you swirled the straw in your drink before taking a long sip. you’d lost count of how many drinks you’d had, but the warmth in your chest and the slight buzz in your head told you it was definitely more than a couple.
“if i were you, i would’ve moved,” he said, wiping at the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “i’m trying to think of a time i’ve been that embarrassed and not even my drunkest moments come close.” he shook his head like he genuinely felt bad for you, though the grin on his face said otherwise.
“believe me, i tried to avoid him,” you said, gesturing with your drink in hand. “but somehow, after that, he started sticking to me like gum on a shoe.”
“i’m telling you, he wants you!” minnie slurred, her eyes barely staying focused as she swayed slightly in her seat. clearly, she was the drunkest one at the table, her words carrying that telltale wobble of too many cocktails.
“don’t start with that again,” you shot back, tossing a napkin in her direction. “he doesn’t want me. he just likes messing with me because he figured out i’m an easy target.”
“oh, really?” she said, eyes narrowing like she’d just come up with the most brilliant plan. “then call him right now. and if he answers, put him on speaker.”
“like hell i will,” you snorted, glancing at your phone. “it’s-” you checked the time “…literally 3am. why would i disturb him just to prove your silly little theories?”
“coward! coward!” minnie started chanting, slapping the table. jake immediately caught on and joined her, their voices syncing up in a way that only drunk friends could manage. “coward! y/n is a chicken!” they sang in unison, making sure to drag out the last word obnoxiously.
“ugh, why do i have friends like you two…” you muttered, covering your ears as their chanting grew louder. “okay! fine! stop that right now, i’ll text him. once.” you jabbed a finger in the air for emphasis, giving them both a stern glare that did absolutely nothing to dim their excitement.
“what do i even say…” you groaned, staring at your empty chat with jaemin.
“send him a picture,” jake suggested.
you thought about it for a second, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “fine,” you muttered, lifting your phone. fueled by alcohol and peer pressure, you decided on the classic "oops, wrong person" strategy. you snapped a quick selfie, pursing your lips into a kissy face for maximum effect. you didn’t even care that it was blurry or that you looked very obviously drunk. in fact, that made it funnier. you snickered to yourself as you hit send.
“he won’t reply, guys,” you said confidently, tossing your phone onto the table face-down. but barely ten seconds passed before you heard the unmistakable ping of a new message.
“you were saying?” minnie arched a brow, crossing her arms in mock satisfaction.
“it’s probably just some random notification,” you said with a shrug, but your voice wavered as you picked up your phone. you tapped the screen, eyes widening slightly at the name that appeared.
jaemin neighbor (3:02am): ‘thought you weren’t one to party hard?’ 
the message was punctuated with a little smirk emoji that somehow made it worse.
“what’d he say?” minnie asked, leaning in so far you thought she might topple over.
you barely had time to answer before another message popped up.
jaemin neighbor (3:03am): ‘don’t drink too much though, you’re still recovering from that cold. and don’t let strangers hold your drink.’
your eyes stayed glued to the screen, heart doing an odd little flip that you refused to acknowledge. 
“oh my god, he’s worried,” minnie gasped, hands flying to her face. “he’s literally whipped!” she squealed, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you back and forth with unhinged glee.
♡ ♡ ♡
after seeing jaemin's message, you decided you needed to get drunker to drown out the thoughts swirling in your head. by the time you got back to the apartment, your uber driver had to practically haul you out of the car. you were a complete mess, your feet barely cooperating with the ground beneath you. minnie ended up hitting it off with jake’s friend so she decided to leave with him to do god knows what dirty things.
“woah there!” you yelped as you stumbled, nearly falling backward.
“ma’am, what’s your apartment number?” the driver asked. all you could do was laugh and mumble some random string of numbers that didn’t come close to making sense.
“y/n?” a familiar voice cut through the fog in your mind, sharp and clear like a bell. it almost sobered you up on the spot. he was wearing his scrubs and his tired appearance told you that he was coming back from a long shift.
“mr. doctor is here!” you announced with unrestrained glee, throwing your arms up. the sudden movement made you lose balance, and you tilted sideways bumping into the driver.
“you know her, sir?” he asked, his forehead shiny with sweat, clearly desperate for an exit out of this.
“uhm, yeah, she’s my next-door neighbor. i’ll take it from here, thanks,” jaemin said, stepping in with the calm authority of someone who’s seen this exact scenario a dozen times before. with zero effort, he crouched down and hoisted you onto his back, his hands steady under your thighs to keep you secure.
“wheee!” you squealed, your cheek smushed against the back of his head.
“hold on tight, yeah?” he muttered, his tone dry but fond as he adjusted his grip on your legs.
inside the elevator, you got bold. maybe it was the tequila, maybe it was just you accepting your undeniable attraction to jaemin, but your hands found their way to his arms. you gave his biceps an experimental squeeze and then hummed, thoroughly impressed. “do all doctors got big, muscular arms or just you?” you asked, squeezing again as if conducting a very important scientific investigation.
jaemin’s lips twitched, like he was fighting back a smile. “do you always get this touchy when you’re drunk?” he replied, shifting you slightly higher on his back.
“oh wow, you smell so good,” you said, burying your nose in his hair. “like… like one of those fancy candles you’re not supposed to light cause they’re too expensive.” you giggled against his head, completely oblivious to the way his ears flushed pink at the compliment.
“i told you not to drink too much,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “this is dangerous, you know.”
“sorryyyyyy,” you whined, dragging out the word. “but you know what they say about alcohol… uh, ‘wine before whiskey, you’re feelin’ frisky’?” you squinted, clearly thinking very hard.
jaemin tilted his head, giving you a side-eye full of disbelief and amusement. “that’s absolutely not the saying,” he said, his voice low and warm with a hint of laughter.
“no?” you pouted. “then it’s… ‘drinks before thoughts, memories get lost!’” you declared with absolute confidence.
he let out a full, genuine laugh, his shoulders shaking under you as he carried you down the hallway. “close enough,” he muttered.
♡ ♡ ♡
in front of your door, you squinted at the digital lock like it had personally wronged you. you pressed one button, then another, and frowned when the screen blinked angrily. your brain felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, and trying to remember your code right was harder than trying to solve a riddle while underwater. 
“ugh, whatever,” you groaned, letting out an exaggerated sigh before plopping down on the floor, legs sprawled out.
“what are you doing?” jaemin's voice came from above, and when you tilted your head back, you saw him crouched in front of you, eyebrows raised.
“can’t remember the code, so m’ sleeping here. duh,” you replied with the kind of lazy confidence and lack of urgency only drunk people have. you reached out and booped him on the nose simply because he looked cute like a bunny in your inebriated mind.
he blinked, clearly thrown, before a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “no, you’re not,” he said, shaking his head. he stood up, offering his hand. “come on.”
“ugh, fiiine,” you groaned, letting him pull you up, though you were basically dead weight. he slipped an arm around your waist to steady you, and the warmth of his hand pressed against the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up. the touch was casual but it sent a sharp jolt of awareness through you. 
you bit your lip to distract yourself from the sudden rush of heat. blame it on the alcohol. definitely the alcohol. 
“i never sleep in a guy’s apartment ‘til…” you held up your hand and started counting on your fingers, lips moving as you mumbled to yourself. “like the 6th date.” 
“that so?” jaemin glanced at you, his voice raspy in a way that made something flip in your stomach. 
“mmhm,” you hummed, leaning your weight against him. “gotta have rules, y’know? safety first.” 
“you’re not wrong,” he replied, guiding you toward his door with slow, careful steps. “but that logic’s got a flaw, don’t you think?” 
you squinted up at him, skeptical. “what flaw?” 
“you’re here with me, and we’re not even on date three,” he said simply, giving you a pointed look. 
you tried to ignore the fact that he considered the elevator and that night at your apartment as dates.
“that’s different,” you countered, waving a hand like that somehow made you right. 
he glanced down at you, eyes sharp but soft in the way they flickered across your face. “how?” 
you blinked, suddenly too aware of the space between you two — or the lack of it. his arm was firm around your waist, and you could feel the rise and fall of his breathing. 
“you tell me, doc,” you muttered, avoiding his eyes. 
there was a brief silence, just the quiet hum of the hallway lights and the soft shuffle of your feet. his fingers curled slightly against your hip, the pressure grounding but gentle. when he spoke again, his tone had shifted — quieter, steadier. 
“i’d never do anything to hurt you,” he said, voice sure like a promise. his eyes met yours, serious in a way that knocked the air right out of your lungs. 
you didn’t have a quick comeback for that one. 
he held your gaze for a moment longer before clearing his throat, eyes flicking away. “anyway,” he said, his voice back to its usual steady calm, “you can sit for a bit. i’ll get you some tea and food, sober you up.” 
“huh?” you blinked, your tipsy mind still trying to catch up after that intense moment you just shared. 
“sit,” he repeated, guiding you toward the couch like you were a stubborn cat. “tea. food. you’ll thank me later.” 
you flopped onto the couch with zero grace, still buzzing from everything.
your head was throbbing, but that wasn’t half as uncomfortable as the rapid thumping of your heart against your chest. it wasn’t normal. it couldn’t be normal. you pressed a hand to your chest like that might somehow slow it down.  
“what is this…” you muttered under your breath, tilting your head back against the couch. 
you were spiraling, no doubt about it. overthinking everything. it’s just jaemin, you reminded yourself. your neighbor. your kind neighbor. of course he’d say stuff like that. he’s a good person, and good people say things like "i’d never hurt you" all the time, right? it didn’t mean anything. didn’t mean a single thing. 
calm down, y/n.
you blew out a slow breath, trying to trick your heart into believing you were unbothered. 
jaemin came back moments later, a cup of tea in one hand and a small plate of buttered toast in the other. he’d ditched his jacket, now in just a fitted black t-shirt and scrub pants. you weren’t sure what was more distracting… the way the fabric clung to his chest and arms, or the way the veins in his forearms stood out as he set the plate down. you stared a little too long, gaze following the flex of his muscles.  
he’s just a guy, you thought, just a guy with arms that look like they were carved out of marble. 
“okay, drink this,” he said, nudging the tea toward you. his voice had slipped into his "doctor tone", soft but firm, like he fully expected to be obeyed. “you’ll feel better. if you feel dizzy or like you’re gonna throw up, let me know. i’ll go shower real quick, and you can shower after.”  
he disappeared into his room before you could respond
you sat there for a second, letting the silence settle around you. without him there, you finally took a proper look at his place. it was weirdly nice for a building as old and shabby as this one. sleek, modern furniture, spotless floors, a faint scent of something woodsy and clean. candles lined the windowsill, and he had an at-home gym tucked neatly in one corner. 
of course he does, you thought, he’s probably too busy saving lives to hit a real gym. 
you bit your lip, remembering the way his arms had felt around your waist. the heat of his skin seeping through the fabric of your shirt. and now, after seeing how built he actually was, it was starting to make a lot more sense. 
“ugh, stop it,” you muttered, shaking your head. it was just the alcohol messing with you. that, and the fact that you were definitely ovulating because there was no way you’d be acting like this otherwise. the combination was lethal. 
you reached for the tea, eager for something to snap you out of your head, but the second you took a sip— 
“ah—!” you yelped, dropping the cup. hot liquid splashed onto the floor, the mug clattering after it. thankfully, it missed your legs but your tongue throbbed like you’d just bitten into molten lava. 
“shit,” you hissed, sticking your tongue out like that might cool it down. 
“what happened?” jaemin’s voice came from the bathroom, sharp with concern.  
“‘s fine!” you tried to call back, but with your tongue still stinging, it came out garbled. “ihz ohkaay!” 
the sound of the shower stopped. you barely had a second to panic before jaemin burst into the living room, dripping wet, a loose towel slung dangerously low on his hips.  
you froze. 
oh.
oh my god.
if this were an anime, you’d have shot out a nosebleed so powerful it’d blast you into another dimension.  
“what happened?” he asked, eyes darting to the mess on the floor, then back to you. he crouched beside you, eyes scanning you likely looking for injuries. water dripped from his hair, trailing down the sharp planes of his face, his chest, his abs… 
his abs.
your gaze locked on the V-line that dipped beneath the edge of his towel, and your brain short-circuited. every coherent thought you’d ever had dissolved on the spot. you didn’t even realize you’d spoken aloud until you heard your own voice. 
“oh my god.”  
jaemin blinked, eyebrows drawing together in worry. “what?” 
“n-nothing!” you stammered, face heating faster than the tea had. you slapped a hand over your eyes like that might erase the image from your mind. it did not. it was burned in.
he frowned, his puppy-dog concern on full display. “i’m sorry, i should’ve warned you the tea was hot.” his gaze shifted to your tongue, still sticking out as you tried to cool it with air. his frown deepened. 
“izzokay,” you said, or at least tried to. with your tongue swollen and numb, it sounded more like “iz okeh, iz my fauwt.”  
“hold on,” he said, his tone dropping into doctor mode. “stay put. you might cut yourself on the glass.”  
he moved with quick precision, ducking into the kitchen and coming back with a towel and some paper towels to clean up. you, unfortunately, had nothing to do but sit there and watch him. and watch him you did.  
the way his muscles shifted under his skin with every movement. the flex of his back, the dip of his hips, the subtle pull of his abs as he crouched to pick up shards of glass. you sat there like a fool, cheeks blazing, unable to look away.  
he could model for anatomy textbooks, you thought, completely mesmerized. like, imagine turning to page 47 and seeing this man labeled as "muscular system: front view."
every part of him moved with that annoying grace certain people just had. the kind of grace that was only possible when you were stupidly, unfairly attractive.  
he wiped the floor clean and tossed the paper towels aside, giving one final glance at the spot to make sure there wasn’t a single shard left behind. then he turned to you.  
“all clear,” he said, standing to his full height. the towel on his hips slipped slightly lower, and your gaze shot to the ceiling so fast you almost got whiplash.  
“thanks,” you muttered, trying to keep your eyes anywhere but there. you still saw it in your peripheral vision. 
he tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “you sure you’re okay?” 
am i okay? absolutely not. your tongue was burnt, your pride was in pieces, and your brain was playing a slow-motion highlight reel of his abs. you were the furthest thing from okay.  
“yep,” you croaked, voice cracking at the end. 
“here you go,” he said, handing you a glass of cold water. “it should help your tongue.”
“thanks,” you mumbled, cradling the glass with both hands. you refused to look directly at him, eyes darting everywhere in the room. the slow drip of condensation on the glass suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the world.
“are you hot? you’re sweating,” he asked, leaning forward, his gaze landing on you with that soft concern he wore too easily.
you nearly spat the water back out. of course you were hot. this whole situation was hot. the room was hot. he was hot.
“it’s fine,” you blurted, shaking your head a little too quickly. “i’ll just shower.”
“yeah, sure. go ahead,” he said, nodding toward the hallway. “bathroom’s the door on the left.”
he glanced down at you, eyes flickering over your dress just briefly. instinctively, you tugged at the hem like that would magically make it longer. you should’ve known minnie was setting you up when she called this look “casually dangerous.”
“your clothes…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “they don’t look super comfortable to sleep in, so if you want, i can lend you something.”
there was no reason for your heart to leap into your throat the way it did. it was a normal offer. a completely normal, helpful offer. but your brain decided to be weird about it. suddenly, you were picturing yourself in one of his shirts, fabric hanging loose on you, the scent of detergent and him faintly clinging to it. god, you needed help.
“okay,” you said, trying to sound normal, but it came out too fast.
“i’ll grab them for you,” he said, already heading toward his room.
as soon as he disappeared, you collapsed against the couch, exhaling hard like you’d just survived a boss fight. you dragged your hands down your face, letting out a muffled groan.
“pull it together,” you hissed at yourself.
walking into the bathroom didn’t help. the warmth hit you instantly, soft steam curling in the air. it smelled like aftershave and clean skin, and if there was a single coherent thought left in your brain, it got drowned out by the sensory overload.
“seriously?” you muttered under your breath, tilting your head back with a groan. “what am i, thirteen?”
the mirror was fogged up, so you wiped at it with your sleeve, only to be faced with your own reflection staring back at you like girl, really? you pressed your hands to your cheeks, feeling the warmth that had nothing to do with the steam.
“i’m normal,” you announced firmly to no one but yourself.
except you weren’t, and you knew it. it wasn’t just the alcohol making your brain short-circuit anymore. you were sober now, and this was just you being ridiculous. the neatly folded clothes on the counter didn’t help. a plain white shirt and a pair of sweatpants sat there, fresh and clean.
you eyed the sweatpants, then glanced down at your legs, already knowing how this was gonna play out. still, you gave it a shot, pulling them up your legs after taking a (very) long shower. unsurprisingly, they swallowed you whole, the cuffs dragging behind you. yeah, no. you’d trip over yourself in less than a minute. sighing, you snatched up the shirt instead and pulled it over your head. it slipped down past your hips, the sleeves flopping well past your hands, turning them into little paw-like stubs.
“this will have to do,” you decided with a sharp nod to yourself.
when you finally stepped out of the bathroom, jaemin was lounging on the couch, scrolling on his phone. his gaze flickered up at you, and for a split second, he just blinked, eyes tracking down your frame before quickly darting back to his phone.
“where are the pants?” he asked, lips quirking up just slightly at the corner.
“too big,” you said. 
“hmm” he hummed, looking up and letting his gaze drag just a little slower this time, eyes sharp with mischief. his tongue pressed against his cheek, a lopsided grin threatening to break free. “i see”
if your heart was pounding before, it was in full percussion solo mode now. but you just flopped down beside him, acting like everything was cool, like you weren’t hyperaware of every inch of bare skin peeking out from under the too-big shirt.
you glanced at the clock on the wall — 4:30 a.m. blinked back at you in dim red light. too late to be awake but too early to call it morning. your eyes shifted to jaemin, and you could see the weight of exhaustion hanging on him. his blinks were slower, his body slouched deeper into the couch cushions.  
“jaem…” the nickname slipped out without warning, soft but certain. his eyes lifted to you immediately.
“you can go to sleep. i’m fine,” you said with a small smile, hoping it was convincing. “and… thank you. for everything. you’re too nice to me.”
his gaze lingered on you, steady and unguarded, like he was committing you to memory. then, his lips curved slowly into a smile. not his usual teasing grin but something gentler, sweeter. it hit you square in the chest, and you had to physically fight the urge to lean forward and kiss him.  
you did not win that fight.
instead, you moved on instinct… leaning in and wrapping your arms around him. the moment you did, you panicked. it felt stiff, clumsy, like you’d misread the whole situation. you were just about to pull away when his arms slid around your waist, slow but sure.  
he pulled you in, pulled you all the way in, until you were practically draped over him. your breath caught in your throat, heart thudding so hard you swore he could feel it.  
his head dipped down, face tucked into the curve of your neck. the warmth of his breath hit your skin in soft bursts, and his hold on you tightened just a little more.  
“it’s my pleasure,” he murmured, voice low and raspier than it had been all night. his lips brushed against your collarbone as he spoke, “always.”
good god, you nearly let out a sound you’d never be able to live down. every nerve in your body was on high alert. it had been so long since you’d been held like this.
his nose nudged against your neck lazily. you felt the butterflies in your stomach riot, wings frantic against your ribs.  
“jaem…” you said, but it came out too soft, too breathless to sound like an actual warning.  
“you smell good,” he muttered, voice all sleep and satisfaction. “you always smell good.” he breathed you in.
lord, have mercy.
“i think we should both sleep,” you murmured, but neither of you moved. neither of you even thought about moving.  
“yeah,” he said, voice low and uneven.  
“yeah,” you echoed, but it sounded less like agreement and more like an excuse for staying right where you were.  
he pulled back just enough to look at you, but his arms stayed firmly around your waist. his eyes flickered down to your lips. on reflex, you wet them with a quick swipe of your tongue, suddenly self-conscious. his gaze darkened and you swore you felt the shift in the air.  
“stop me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.
but stopping him didn’t even cross your mind. not when he was looking at you like that. not when his face inched closer, closer…
his lips met yours softly at first, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to decide. you decided quickly. your hands slipped into his hair, pulling him in as you kissed him back with everything you’d been holding in all night.  
he responded instantly. his hand cupped the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair to hold you in place, deepening the kiss until it wasn’t soft anymore.
his other hand found your hip, gripping you firmly as he shifted you on top of him, his touch guiding you like he knew exactly where he wanted you to be. dangerous. this was so, so dangerous. 
because you were only wearing that stupidly oversized shirt and the flimsy scrap of underwear underneath it. and when you settled fully onto his lap, you felt everything.
he must’ve felt it too, because his breath stuttered, and a needy groan escaped him, muffled against your lips. you felt it vibrate through your whole body, made you shiver as if he’d pressed his mouth to your spine instead.  
his hand on your hip squeezed, fingers digging in just a little harder. 
the kiss grew messier, wetter, breaths and tongues tangled together in a way that felt far past the point of no return. it didn’t help that his other hand left your neck, sliding down, fingertips trailing along your side before slipping under the hem of the shirt.  
his hand slid up and up until…
he froze the second he realized. his palm pressed against bare skin, no bra, no barrier. you felt his breath hitch at the same moment you heard it.  
“fuck,” he groaned into your mouth, his voice rougher now, heavier. his fingers spread wide, covering as much skin as he could reach, his palm warm and steady against your ribs.  
and when his thumb brushed up, grazing just barely under the curve of your breast, the sound you made was far too needy. his gaze flicked back up to yours. like he was asking. like he was giving you one last out.  
you didn’t take it.  
his hand moved again, bolder this time. his palm slid over the curve of your breast, warm and firm, fingers curling around it as if it belonged to him. you sighed at the contact, eyes fluttering closed as your head tipped forward. it wasn’t enough. you didn’t know what “enough” would be, but it wasn’t this.  
he must’ve felt it too, because his other hand rose to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin in slow, soothing circles. he tilted your face up, and for a moment, you thought he’d kiss you again. you tilted toward him, lips parting, but he had other plans.  
instead, he leaned in and pressed his lips just beneath your ear. the warmth of his mouth sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could even process that, he was moving lower. he kissed his way along your neck, slow and steady, with the kind of patience that made your heart feel like it was on a countdown. 
and then the kisses changed. his teeth grazed your skin, his lips sealed over the spot, and he sucked hard enough to make you gasp. your hands flew up, gripping at his shoulders as he trailed love bites down to your collarbones, marking you in a way that felt possessive, the kind you’d see after he was gone.  
“jaemin,” you whispered, your fingers digging into his shirt. his name barely sounded like a name anymore.  
his only answer was a low hum against your collarbone, his hand still working under your shirt. his fingers traced lazy lines along the sensitive skin beneath your breast, and just when you thought he was going to stay gentle, he pinched your nipple between his fingers.  
you gasped sharply, hips jolting forward on reflex. “oh—”
he didn’t stop. he rolled it slowly between his fingers, feeling out every little reaction you gave him, every twitch and shiver. your body betrayed you, arching into his touch, and the way he smiled against your neck told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you.  
instinct took over before you could think it through. your hips rocked forward against his lap — once, twice — chasing relief from the ache that had been building low in your stomach for too long. you felt the slickness between your thighs, hot and damp, soaking through the thin fabric of your underwear and seeping onto his sweatpants.  
he felt it too. you knew he did from the sharp intake of breath he took, from the way his hands squeezed tighter his fingers digging into your hip, his other hand cupping your breast with just a little more pressure.  
“fuck,” he groaned, head falling forward, his forehead pressing against your shoulder. his hips shifted beneath you, his arousal impossible to miss now. he was hard, and every roll of your hips dragged against him perfectly, making him curse under his breath.  
the heat of it all was unbearable, and you had no one to blame but yourself. but at this point, did it even matter?  
he lifted his head, jaw tight, eyes half-lidded. his gaze flickered from your face to where your hips met his lap, his tongue darting out to wet his lips 
“i don't know how much longer i can hold back…” his voice was strained.  
you blinked down at him, heart thudding hard against your ribs. every nerve in your body felt like it had been lit on fire, but somehow, you still managed to smile.  
“who told you to hold back?”you said, voice soft but sure.  
“shit…” he muttered, his voice low and wrecked. his fingers dug into your hips, guiding them down against him with a deliberate pressure that had your breath hitching in your throat.  
it wasn’t just you moving anymore. he was moving you, rocking you back and forth against him faster, tired of pretending you weren’t both desperate for it.  
your head tipped back as a broken moan spilled from your lips. the friction was too good, just the right amount of pressure to have your thighs trembling. the heat between you had gone from warm to blistering, every grind making you more sensitive, more aware of the damp mess you were both making between his sweatpants and your underwear.  
his eyes locked on you, not wanting to miss a single second of it… the arch of your back, the part of your lips, the way your breath caught every time you sank down a little harder. 
“look at you,”  he breathed, voice rough and half-laughing. “getting this worked up over a little humping”
you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. “i’m clearly not the only one,” you shot back breathlessly..  
his lips were back on you in an instant,  rougher than before, all teeth and tongue. his hands slid up your back, under his shirt you were wearing, fingers dragging against bare skin. his nails scratched lightly at your spine, sending chills down your whole body, and you gasped into his mouth.  
he didn’t let you pull away. his lips chased yours, like he’d been starving for this, like now that he’d had a taste, there was no way he was stopping. he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and your body moved on instinct, hips rolling harder against him.  
“fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, head falling back against the couch as he sucked in a breath through his teeth. his hands slid down to your thighs, gripping them tight as if to ground himself, but all it did was spur you on.  
you leaned forward, trailing kisses down his jaw, his neck, biting just enough to feel him shudder beneath you. his pulse was wild under your lips, and when you grazed your teeth against it, his hips bucked up so hard it knocked the air out of your lungs.  
“you’re making it so hard to be soft right now,” he said through gritted teeth, head tipped back, neck bared for you like an invitation. his eyes flicked down to where you sat on him, where the line between you two had blurred so badly it didn’t seem to exist anymore.  
“then don’t be,” you whispered against his ear, biting down on the lobe just to hear him curse again. “nobody asked you to be soft.”
that was all it took. his grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin with purpose. his next move was fast—you were on your back before you could register it, his body hovering over you, his weight pressing you down in a way that made your heart race in your chest.  
his eyes met yours, pupils blown wide, hair falling into his face. he looked like a mess and it was perfect.
“say that again,” he said, voice nothing but gravel and breath. his hands slid up your thighs, pushing them apart, the slow drag of his touch enough to make you squirm. “say it again so i know you mean it.”
your chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, and you reached up, fingers threading through his hair.  
“nobody,” you whispered, tugging his head down just enough to make sure he heard you, “asked you to be soft.”
for a second, he didn’t move. just stared down at you like he’d never wanted anything more in his life than to eat you up.
then he leaned in, and when he kissed you this time, it wasn’t soft or tentative or testing the waters. it was raw, hungry, and so deep it knocked the air out of you. his hands moved with purpose, sliding up your thighs, pushing his shirt higher and higher until the air hit bare skin.  
everything was heat and pressure and need. he was all you could feel, all you could hear — his breath heavy and uneven, his name falling from your lips like it was the only word you knew.  
and when he finally pressed his forehead to yours, eyes squeezed shut like he was fighting to hold himself together, you knew you’d both already lost.
the next thing you know, his hands are tugging your shirt up and over your head, the fabric barely brushing past your arms before it’s gone. the cold air hits your skin for half a second before jaemin’s mouth replaces it, hot and relentless as he traces the curve of your collarbone, his lips dragging lower, slower.
when his mouth finally closes around your right breast, it’s warm and wet and just enough to have you mewling. his tongue flicks over your nipple before sucking it into his mouth, his teeth grazing it just lightly, sending a sharp jolt of heat straight down to your core.  
his free hand slides lower, fingers trailing down your stomach, over your hip, and slipping beneath the waistband of your lace underwear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. he moves without hesitation, fingers seeking out the slick mess waiting for him, and the second he finds it, he lets out a low, rough groan against your skin.  
“god, you’re so fucking wet,” he mutters, pulling off your breast with a slick pop, his breath fanning across your skin. he glances down between your legs, his gaze so heavy you feel it like a touch. his eyes darken, his tongue darting out to wet his lips like he’s hungry just looking at you.  
he hooks his fingers into the sides of your underwear, dragging them down in one slow pull, eyes locked on you like he’s scared to blink and miss it. the fabric barely makes it past your knee before he’s already looking back up at you, his pupils blown wide, lips parted with the kind of need that makes your chest feel too tight.  
“let me eat you out,” he says, and his voice is rough and desperate.
you bite your lip like you’re thinking it over, but you know you’re going to say yes. you just like seeing him like this — all unsteady and breathless, too far gone to hide it.  
“please,” he says again, this time more ragged, his voice cracking at the end like he might actually lose it if you make him wait any longer.  
“okay,” you say, and it’s all he needs.  
he’s on you in a heartbeat, sliding down your body so fast it’s dizzying. his hands are firm on your thighs, pulling them apart, spreading you wide until there’s nowhere left to hide. his gaze flicks up one last time, meeting yours like he’s checking, like he’s giving you one last chance to stop him.  
but you don’t. you won’t.
he presses his fingers to your folds, parting you slowly, exposing everything to him, and the breath he takes is deep, like he’s savoring the moment before the fall.  
then he leans in.  
his nose brushes against you first, just a soft nudge that has your hips twitching on instinct. then his tongue follows in one long, slow drag from bottom to top that has your breath stuttering in your chest. his grip on your thighs tightens, fingers digging into your skin like he’s steadying himself as much as you.  
he moans against you, a deep, satisfied sound that you feel as much as hear, and his tongue dives back in, licking at you like you’re his favorite thing to taste. the movements are slow at first, deliberate, his tongue exploring every part of you like he’s trying to figure out exactly what makes you fall apart.  
and you are falling apart.  
your head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting as you let out a shaky, breathless moan. your hips twitch up, and his hands are right there to hold you down, keeping you still as his tongue moves with more certainty, more purpose, licking you with long, messy strokes that make you gasp.  
his mouth doesn’t slow, if anything, it grows more determined. his tongue moves with precision now, circling that sensitive spot before flicking against it in quick, teasing bursts that have your hips jumping despite his firm grip.  
“fuck, jaem—” your voice breaks on his name, your hands gripping the sides of the couch, searching for something, anything to ground yourself. but there’s nothing. nothing but him, his mouth, the obscene, wet sounds filling the air, and the heat building low in your stomach.
he groans again, the vibration shooting through you, his tongue flattening against you before he drags it up,
“taste so sweet,” he murmurs into you, his voice muffled, every word spoken straight into your skin. 
“could stay here all night.”
the heat in your belly twists tighter at that, something about the way he says it, like he means it, like he’d ruin himself for this… for you. you’re already too close, and he knows it. he can feel it in the way your thighs tense, in the way your breath catches and your hips press up into him like you’re chasing something you can’t quite reach.  
he hums in satisfaction, his lips wrapping around that sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking just once, just enough to make your whole body jolt.
“god, jaem, i’m—” you don’t even finish the sentence before it hits you, crashing over you in waves so intense you forget how to breathe. you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth falling open on a silent cry as the pleasure hits you all at once, white-hot and overwhelming. he doesn’t let up, his tongue flicking against you through it, coaxing every last tremor from your body.  
your fingers find his hair, tugging hard, half to ground yourself and half to make him stop because it’s all too much. he groans at the pull, but it only seems to spur him on, his hands tightening on your hips, keeping you pressed against his mouth.
“jaemin,” you say it firmer this time, tugging again, and finally, finally he pulls back, his lips and chin shiny with evidence of what he’s done.
“couldn’t help myself,” he says, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth like he’s savoring every last bit of you. his eyes are wild, pupils blown wide, his hair a mess from where you tugged at it.  
“you look so pretty when you cum,” he says, voice low and husky, and you hate the way your heart lurches in your chest as if he’s just said something sweet.  
“you’re crazy,” you mutter, still catching your breath, wiping the sweat from your forehead.  
“crazy for you,” he fires back, grin widening like he knows how corny it is and says it anyway.  
and for some reason, it makes you laugh. a soft, breathy thing you can’t hold back. 
in one smooth motion, he’s crawling back up your body, his hands framing your face as he settles his weight over you. his lips press to yours, soft at first, then deeper, hungrier. reminding you exactly where that mouth has just been. you taste yourself on him, and it sends a fresh wave of heat through you.  
“not done with you yet,”  he says against your lips, his hips pressing down against yours, and fuck, you feel how hard he is, the thick, solid pressure pressing right where you need it.  
“then don’t stop,” your fingers slide down his back, nails scraping lightly.
he flashed a wicked grin, and before you could process it, you let out a startled squeal as he hoisted you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. his arms were firm around your legs, his shoulder pressing into your stomach, and you could feel the strength in every stride as he carried you from the living room to his bedroom. 
"jaemin!" you protested, your fists lightly tapping his back, but it only made him chuckle.
"keep squirming, baby. see where that gets you," he teased.  
he laid you down on the bed with surprising gentleness. the cool, fresh scent of his sheets surrounded you, soft fabric meeting warm skin. it was a fleeting comfort, though. you both knew they wouldn’t stay this neat for long. 
jaemin peeled off his shirt with one smooth motion, revealing the sharp lines of his chest and the taut muscles of his stomach. you bit your lip as he kicked off his sweatpants, leaving him in just his boxers. his gaze was locked on you, dark eyes brimming with heat and amusement, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.  
you watched mesmerized as he pulled open the drawer of his nightstand, fingers searching until they found a small foil packet. he ripped it open with practiced ease, and when the condom rolled out into his palm, your eyes widened. 
"that’s not the right size," you blurted out, half-laughing. "no way."  
his eyebrows lifted, a challenge sparking in his eyes. "oh? wanna bet?" 
then his boxers hit the floor.  
oh.  
your breath caught in your throat as your eyes dropped, taking in the sight of his dick. heat flooded your face. what the hell.
“close your mouth, baby,” he said, smirking. “unless you’re planning to put it to use.”  
"shut up," you muttered, glancing away, cheeks blazing. "are you gonna do it or not?"  
“do what?” he asked innocently, even as he climbed onto the bed, caging you in with his body. he hovered just above you, his grin infuriatingly smug.  
“you know what.”  
“hmm. don’t think i do,” he murmured, eyes dropping to your lips. “wanna say it for me, pretty girl?”  
you pressed your lips together, heart thudding in your chest harder every second. you could feel the weight of him, his warmth, the tension that hung in the air like a live wire.  
“fuck… me, jaem,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper.  
he tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “louder, baby. i know you can be louder.”  
he wasn’t wrong. flashes of earlier moments filled your mind, the way you were moaning and whimpering definitely wasn’t quiet. you swallowed the last bit of your hesitation.  
“fuck me. please.”  
he hummed, satisfied, his grin softening as he hooked his hands behind your knees and tugged you down toward him. you let out a quiet gasp, suddenly flat on your back, with him positioned directly above you. his body hovered just close enough that every shift of movement made you feel him.  
your eyes flickered up to his face, and for a second, he wasn’t teasing anymore. his gaze was steady, searching, his eyes dark but kind. he reached out, fingertips tracing your jawline with such tenderness it made you ache in a different way.  
“you okay, baby?” he asked softly, letting you know he’d stop everything if you said no.  
your heart swelled at the care in his voice.  
you nodded, fingers curling around his shoulders.  
he leaned in, close enough for his breath to fan across your face. “need words, love.”  
“i’m okay, jaem,” you said more firmly, gazing up at him. 
his eyes lingered on yours a moment longer before he nodded. he took a pillow and carefully placed it behind your lower back 
"good girl," he murmured.  
he shifted, his hands steady on your hips, grounding you as he lined himself up. the anticipation coiled tightly in your stomach, a nervous, thrilling buzz. you felt him prodding at your entrance, he swiped his tip up and down, the action made you clench in anticipation. he eased in, inch by inch, the stretch stealing every ounce of air from your lungs.  
his head dropped, forehead pressed against yours, jaw tense as his eyes squeezed shut. a soft curse left his lips. “fuck, so… so tight,” he groaned, his voice wrecked. his fingers dug into your hips, holding you still.
the moans spilling from your lips mixed with his name, coming out soft and unrestrained. every inch of him felt like too much, the kind of stretch that made your breath catch and your nails press into his shoulders. it had been so long since you'd had sex that you'd almost forgotten what it felt like, and even back then, no one had ever filled you like this. jaemin was thicker, longer, and the difference was impossible to ignore. 
"baby, if you keep squeezing me like that…" he laughed breathlessly, his fingers drawing slow, steady circles on your hip like he was trying to soothe you. “i might not make it all the way in.” 
“s’rry, you’re… just too big,” you muttered, voice coming out more wrecked than you intended. 
he bit down on his lip, eyes flicking down to where you were connected. the sight alone was about to undo him. "yeah?" he breathed, a little too satisfied with himself. his hand slid up, fingers pressing into your waist just a bit harder, grounding you in place as he pushed in deeper. 
the pressure was overwhelming, every slow inch making you feel like you might fall apart right there beneath him. and the deeper he went, the more you swore you wouldn’t last long. the tight, aching pull in your stomach was already coiling up, twisting tighter with every second.  
“you okay?” his voice was softer this time, the restraint obvious in how still he stayed once he’d finally bottomed out. his forehead pressed lightly to yours, lips hovering just close enough to brush your skin.  
“mhm,” you nodded quickly, legs shaking around him. 
“words, baby,” he said, and his fingers tilted your chin so you’d look at him. 
“i’m okay, jaem. just…just move, please,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.  
"since you asked so nicely," he said with a grin that was all teeth and trouble. his hands gripped your thighs, pulling them higher against his sides. his hips pulled back, just enough for you to feel every inch of him drag out slowly, before he pushed back in.
the breath punched out of you. you didn’t even have time to recover before he was doing it again, sharper, testing just how much you could handle. 
"god, you’re taking me so well, princess," he groaned, eyes flicking down to where your bodies connected. his hands slid up your sides, the warmth of his touch a sharp contrast to the way he was slamming into you. "like you were made for me." 
“jaem-” his name was the only thing you could manage, high-pitched and broken. your head tipped back against the pillows, eyes squeezing shut, but that only made everything feel sharper. 
“what's that?” he asked, voice rough as he leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over the corner of your mouth. "love it this much, huh?" 
you didn’t answer, didn’t need to. he could hear it in every shaky breath, feel it in the way your body reacted to him. 
his mouth was on yours a second later, messy and hot, his teeth dragging over your bottom lip before his tongue slid past it. he didn’t kiss you so much as claim you, taking everything you gave and then some. your fingers knotted in his hair, desperate for something to hold on to. the sounds between you were wet, frantic, each one making the coil in your stomach twist tighter. 
you were close… so, so close.
 but then he pulled away again, leaving you gasping at the sudden loss. before you could even think to complain, he grabbed your hips, flipping you over like it was nothing. your cheek pressed into the pillow, hips lifted, and you barely had a second to brace yourself before he was back inside you.
the first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs. it was deeper now, sharper, because he’d found a whole new spot to ruin you from. your fingers dug into the pillow, muffling the sounds spilling from your mouth, but even that wasn’t enough. the angle had you seeing stars, the kind of pressure that made your legs shake with every thrust. 
“feel that?” his voice was right at your ear, low and rough. “feels different, doesn’t it?” 
you nodded frantically, too gone to answer, but that wasn’t good enough for him. his hand slipped up, tangling in your hair, gently tugging you up just enough so he could hear you.  
“talk to me, baby.” his voice was a rasp now, barely hanging on. "tell me how it feels." 
“s’good…so good, jaem,” you gasped, words rushed and jumbled but still clear enough. "i’m- i’m gonna…”  
“go ahead, baby," he said, lips brushing against your ear before he bit down softly on your earlobe, making you jolt. "want you to cum for me." 
your whole body shuddered as the release crashed into you, slow and unrelenting, like a wave that just wouldn’t let up. it didn’t hit and fade away like usual — it lingered, making your muscles seize and tremble with every pulse. you felt boneless, your limbs heavy as you sagged against the bed, head turned to the side, cheek pressed into the pillow. jaemin stayed inside you, his grip on your hips loosening just slightly but his eyes stayed locked on you, dark and intent. you could feel him watching every little twitch of your body. 
“look at you,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “so pretty like this.” 
he eased out of you slowly, and the emptiness that followed had you sucking in a sharp breath. your thighs shook as you tried to press them together, but his were still on you, thumb brushing softly along your inner thighs admiring how your cum slid down your dripping core. 
you glanced down, lips parting at the sight. his cock was flushed, standing firm against his stomach, the condom showing nothing but a hint of precum mixed with the mess you’d left behind. a slow heat pooled in your belly again, your body already responding before your mind could catch up.  
“you didn’t—” you started, but the words dissolved in your throat, eyes flickering back up to meet his.  
you didn’t wait for him to say anything. your hand shot out, fingers curling around his wrist, and you tugged him forward. he followed easily, letting you pull him in close, his lips already parting like he was expecting a kiss. but just as he leaned in, you braced a hand on his chest and shoved him down flat on his back. 
“oh?” he breathed out a soft, surprised laugh, his eyes widening as his head hit the pillow. “what’s this, huh?”  
“shh,” you muttered, climbing over him, one leg swinging over his hips until you were straddling him. your palms flattened on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your hands. 
“bossy now, are we?” his grin stretched wider, his hands sliding up your thighs with a slow, deliberate touch. he squeezed just above your knees, fingertips pressing into your skin.  
“quiet,” you said leaning forward, your breath warm against his ear. “thought you’d like a girl who takes charge.” 
his head tipped back with a breathy laugh. “oh, i do,” he said, voice trailing off into a low hum as his eyes dipped to where your hips hovered just above him. “but i like it even more when she can keep up.” 
the corner of your mouth tugged up into a grin. “we’ll see,” you muttered, reaching between your bodies to wrap your hand around him. he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his whole body going rigid beneath you. even with just the faintest pressure of your hand, you could feel him twitch, his hips bucking up slightly. 
“s-sensitive,” he hissed, jaw tightening as he pressed his head back into the pillow. but he didn’t stop you, didn’t even try. if anything, his fingers dug harder into your thighs, holding you steady like he was afraid you’d pull away. 
“thought you could keep up,” you shot back, glancing up at him. his brows furrowed, his eyes squeezing shut for a second before they flickered back open. the teasing look on his face was gone now, replaced with something hungrier, more focused.  
you lined him up with you, heart thudding hard against your ribs. you’d done this before, but it felt different now… the weight of his eyes on you, the way his hands gripped you just a little tighter as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. the stretch was slow, inch by inch until you felt him fill you completely. 
“f-f—” his curse broke off into a low groan, his chest rising sharply as his hands slid up to your waist. “god, you’re—” he didn’t finish. couldn’t finish. his eyes screwed shut, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip so hard you thought he might draw blood.  
you braced your hands on his chest, fingers curling just slightly as you adjusted to the feeling. the heat in your core burned brighter, the ache of it twisting into something sharper, more desperate. you shifted your hips just a little, testing it, and the friction hit you so perfectly you gasped, nails digging into his chest.  
“you okay?” his voice was strained, barely more than a whisper, but there was a thread of concern woven through it. his eyes cracked open, heavy-lidded but focused on you.  
“mhm,” you nodded, breathless as you lifted your hips slowly, feeling every inch of him slide out before sinking back down just as slow. his head tipped back, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard, a low groan rattling from his chest. 
“yeah, just like that,” he muttered, his grip on you loosening as he let you set the pace. “take your time, pretty girl.” his words slurred just a little, as if he wasn’t fully in control of them anymore. “feels so…” his breath hitched, head tilting back against the pillow. 
his hands never stopped moving, though. they roamed up your waist, across your ribs until they found your boobs, they played there for a minute before sliding down to grip your thighs again. every time you dropped your hips, you watched the way his face twisted — brows pulling together, lips parting, his eyes half-lidded and glassy. his fingers twitched, his grip faltering like he wanted to touch you everywhere at once. 
“harder,” he breathed, his voice so quiet you almost missed it. his eyes flicked up to yours, gaze locked, lips parted and shiny with spit. “don’t hold back.”  
you bit your lip, grinning through the burn in your legs as you shifted your pace and started going faster. the sound of it echoed in the room and you felt the warmth building low in your belly again, tighter and tighter with every roll of your hips. 
“y-yeah, just like that,” he gasped, voice cracking, his eyes fluttering shut again. he pressed his head back, the veins on his neck on full display, and you watched the way his adam’s apple bobbed with every uneven breath. his hands slid to your hips, guiding you in sync with his shallow thrusts upward. the movement was messy, desperate, his body seeking more even as he tried to hold on.  
“gonna—” he bit out, breath hitching sharply. his eyes flew open, wild and unfocused as he stared at you like he wasn’t even sure what he was about to say. “gonna— oh, fuck—” 
“yeah?” you gasped, leaning forward, your hands braced against his chest, fingers curling into his skin. “feels good, hm?” 
he didn’t answer with words. he answered with his body, hips snapping up to meet yours, his fingers dragging down your back, hard enough to leave little streaks of heat in their wake. his breathing grew choppy, his body locking up beneath you as his grip on your waist turned bruising. 
“don’t stop,” he panted, his voice rough, broken. “don’t— oh, fuck.” 
you didn’t. not until you felt every last bit of him give in. his whole body went taut, muscles straining beneath you, his grip locking you in place as he let himself go. he groaned so deeply it sounded more like a growl, his breath hot against your neck as he pulled you down to him, holding you close.
“what’s the verdict, doctor?” you asked, tracing circles on his chest, still sat on top of him.  
“hm,” he hummed with his eyes still closed, lips tugging up at the corners as if he was fighting off a grin. “patient shows signs of extreme confidence. possible cause: being too good at driving me crazy.”  
you snorted, tilting your head to look at him. “is that your professional diagnosis?”  
“oh, absolutely,” he said, cracking one eye open to meet yours. “might need to run some more tests, though. you know, for accuracy.”  
“yeah?” you leaned in, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “what kind of tests, doctor?”  
his hands slid up your back, fingers splayed wide as they pressed you closer. “thorough ones,” he muttered, his voice rasping against your ear. “real hands-on approach.”  
“sounds serious,” you teased, letting your nails drag lightly down his chest. “hope your credentials check out.”  
“i’m overqualified, baby,” he breathed, tipping his head back against the pillow with a lazy grin. “let me show you.”
my inbox is always open for any comments about the fic!! thank you<3
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inkdrinkerworld · 5 months ago
Note
Heyy!! I absolutely love your work and was wondering if I could make a request?
I read your Logan x Scott’s sister blurb a little bit ago and adored it and was wondering if I could request another one?
Maybe reader is crying in her room over a book or show or something and Logan comes in to soothe her but then Scott comes in and sees his sister crying and thinks that Logan did something to her? He gets all defensive and protective.
If not, obviously no worries but lots of love and hope you’re doing well!! 💗💗
“Bub? Where are you sweet girl?” Logan comes into your room, looking around for you. “I need a hug kid.” He had a fucking horrible day- some of the kids were more shits than he remembered.
Logan finds you in the bathroom crying on the toilet. You’re in your towel, and your hair is dripping down your back with suds following them.
“What’s wrong?” Immediately, Logan’s on his knees in front of you.
You sniffle and wipe at your nose, eyes all red as you look up at him.
“I hurt my wrist when I went on that thing with Jean and Ororo and I thought the pain would go away but when I was washing my hair I think I fucked it up some more.” He pouts, reaching for your wrist.
“Let me take a look, princess.”
You set your wrist in his hand carefully.
It looks more than sprained. Maybe a little twisted and a touch out of place.
“I can set it for you. Wanna bite down on my belt?” He teases and you giggle wetly while shaking your head.
“Will you count me down?” Logan coos, your words are soft and a bit insecure. He gives you a kiss on your cheek and then your wrist.
“I’ll count you down bub,” he rubs a little pressure on your forearm. “Look the other way f’me.”
You turn your head and Logan gives you a count from three to one, and twists your wrist making you cry out. “Fuck that’s rough.”
Just then, the bathroom door bangs open and Scott glares at Logan.
“What the fuck did you do to her? Why’s she been crying? And what the fuck happened to her wrist?”
You roll your eyes, Logan just stares at Scott like he can’t believe he’s in the bathroom right now. He really can’t. He also can’t believe Scott thinks he’d hurt you.
“I’ve been crying because I fucked up my wrist and Logan set it back for me while I was being a baby.”
Logan pinches your thigh, “You were hurt, not being a baby.”
Scott can’t help but soften his stance a bit. Logan treats you well, even if he gives him shit everyday. Sue him for not liking that you’re dating.
“You mind getting out so I can finish washing my girlfriend’s hair, Cyclops?”
Scott’s scowl is back. “When you’re finished can we go get lunch? I miss you.”
Logan gags, “I’m in love with your sister, Scott. Not you.”
You laugh and Scott glares harder. “I was talking to her, dumbass! Why would I miss you? I see you just about eleven hours a fucking day.”
“Yeah, we can grab a bite after Scotty. Give me thirty minutes?”
He nods and walks out, shutting the door behind him.
“What about me, hm?” Logan teases as he helps you out of your towel. “Gonna leave me to sleep in that cold ass bed all alone?”
“I’ll be back in an hour Lo, I swear.” You cup his cheek with your good hand and kiss his bottom lip.
“Yeah yeah,” he keeps you in place for a second kiss. “Did you factor me into those thirty minutes?”
You laugh against his mouth, “Not this time baby, come wash my hair please my love?”
Logan rolls his eyes playfully. You always know the right thing to call him. “You’re not leaving this room the second you come back; fucking missed you today.” He pats your butt as you step into the shower, your laugh making his chest swell.
God he loves you.
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hgfictionwriter · 4 months ago
Text
Jackpot
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: You and Jessie place a bet - neither of you think the other can survive a month without sex. Winner gets to have their way with the other.
Warnings: G!P smut. Edging/teasing, masturbation, cunnilingus, marathon sex, unprotected/risky sex, breeding/preg kink.
A/N: I combined a few requests to write this fic. It's LONG. Hopefully still good though. Hope you enjoy.
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“You are so handsy tonight,” you laughed as Jessie wrapped her arms around your waist while you cleaned up after dinner.
“I can’t help it if you’re attractive,” Jessie reasoned, unbothered.
You pushed your hips back into her, giving a purposeful roll of them and bit back a smug smirk at the low groan that came from her.
“And you do things like that,” she complained before giving you a slow, teasing kiss at the nape of your neck, causing a shiver to go down your spine.
You tucked your head down, raising your shoulder and pulling away slightly, snickering at how she let out a noise of disappointment.
“I have to finish cleaning up. And I have to finish some work tonight. I can’t get,” you paused to give her an amused, but pointed look, “distracted.”
Jessie grumbled furthermore, resting her head heavily on your shoulder.
You turned in her arms, wrapping yours around the back of her neck now and not able to help yourself from smiling as her pout slowly transformed into a small smile. You gently rolled yourself against her and bit the inside of your lip at how her eyes drifted shut at the action. You loved even more how you could feel her starting to grow hard against you.
“Don’t get me wrong,” you said, a slight lilt in your voice, “I love how hot we are for each other.” You smirked, reaching between your bodies and gently rubbing her through her pants. “And how hard you get for me.”
“But?” Jessie asked, forcing herself to open her eyes and look at you as you teased her.
“But nothing,” you shrugged. A thought crossed your mind and you couldn’t entirely hold back your laugh. She frowned at you in question.
“[Y/friend] was talking about ‘No nut November’ and,” you looked her up and down rather smugly, “I’m not sure you’d be able to make it.”
Jessie’s jaw dropped, blatantly affronted by the accusation.
“Are you serious?” She asked, holding her hands up in defense. You leaned in, trying to give her an appeasing kiss on the check but she dodged it. “No. No, you don’t get any kisses after that.” You laughed and gave her an apologetic look.
“I was just teasing,” you said.
“No,” Jessie said, folding her arms across her chest though a smirk now crossed her lips. “You weren’t kidding. You think I’m just horned up and can’t behave myself? We’ll see about that,” she went on rather haughtily. “You’re just as bad as me.”
You narrowed your eyes at her playfully. “Really now.”
“Really. I bet that you can’t go a month without us having sex,” Jessie challenged, head held high.
“Oh my god,” you said, rolling your eyes before mimicking her body language. “I bet you can’t either. One month, no sex.” You tapped your chin in contemplation. “We can masturbate once a week; we’ll just have to do that on the honour system.”
Jessie chuckled. “And what does the winner get?”
“Whatever kind of sex they want,” you said as you cocked your head. You held up a hand, “Within reason. It has to be consensual, of course, but you get the idea.”
“I do,” Jessie said before holding out her hand. “Deal.” You took her hand and gave it a shake.
“Deal.”
—————
To say the following weeks were a challenge would be a massive understatement. You’d gone in rather confident, thinking of all the ways you’d tease Jessie, but you didn’t anticipate how she’d tease you back.
There were many close calls. For both of you. And if it was anyone other than Jessie, you probably would’ve laughed off the bet, but as with anything else in her life, she was taking it very seriously.
You learned the night the bet was made, in fact, how seriously she was taking it. You’d gotten into bed after her and scooched up against her, your ass on her hips and nestled in. Immediately, she grunted and shifted back, a totally foreign reaction to you. You complained and pulled her arm around your waist to spoon you.
“I just want to cuddle,” you said. But that was quickly disproved when you began to grind back against her. She’d jerked away and grumbled something about you not playing nice and went to sleep on the other side of the bed.
The next morning, Jessie went out for a run and when she came back she put on a bit of a show, though she’d never admit it, but she knew damn well it would drive you wild.
She came into the bedroom, you still lying in bed, and lifted up her shirt to wipe the sweat off her face. She was well aware of your eyes on her sweat covered abs.
When she took off her shirt, she let down her hair and pushed it back, her biceps flexing as she did so and she turned to speak to you, arms still flexed. She made up some excuse to reach for something across the bed, reaching over you, her sweaty, sexy body brushing against you.
She nonchalantly went about her routine, closing out with coming to speak to you fresh from her shower, a towel held precariously in front of her cock, but the rest of her body on display.
“That’s your one for the week,” she said pointedly with a knowing smirk at the end of your conversation. She turned to leave, your cheeks reddening as she walked away. Guess you weren’t as quiet and discrete as you thought you were when she was in the shower.
The days carried on like that. Some flirtations subtle, like a hand brushing against a thigh or a waist. You wearing sexy underwear and make sure she got a glimpse. Some less subtle. Like when she not so subtly came out to the couch and sat down in boxers and a sports bra, legs spread and hands behind her head as you watched a show.
You reciprocated by turning to her, kissing her on the shoulder and down her chest, pulling an unfiltered glare from her. Undeterred, you looked down at the subtle bulge that was beginning to form in her boxers and sat back up and began to pull your hair back into a ponytail.
You forced yourself to not react as she watched you steadily, almost a sense of disbelief on her face before you sat back and returned to watching your show. You snickered at the frustrated exhale she released.
The worst of all was when you’d been out with friends one night and your hand wandered as Jessie drove you back home. She’d complained about how that wasn’t fair and was a borderline violation. You stopped, but you didn’t recall rules around words.
“God, baby. I’m dripping wet for you. My panties are soaked because I want your hard cock inside of me so badly. I want to feel you stretching me out, my needy pussy wrapping tightly around you. I want your hips slamming into me as you fill me up so good again and again.”
“Oh my fucking god,” Jessie said chastising, though by the look of the growing tent in her pants, in arousal as well. “That’s not allowed.”
“Dirty talk wasn’t included in the rules,” you argued.
“It’s simulating sex though, so it’s against the rules,” Jessie argued.
“What are you going to do, baby?” You asked as you eyed her. “I know you already got yourself off earlier this week. Want me to take care of you?”
“No,” Jessie said curtly, her grip tightening on the steering wheel while she pulled into your parkade.
She got out of the car in a huff and you stifled a laugh as she rounded the car, her erection obvious as her pants stretched tightly across her.
You were about to make a smart remark when she pushed you against the car and ground herself into you as she met you in a heated, hard kiss. Though surprised, a moan worked its way up your throat as she bent her knees and pushed her hips up and into you, the firmness in her pants pressing against your heat and causing an immediate reaction in you.
You made out, shamelessly grinding against one another.
“You can take me upstairs, you know,” you offered.
“Are you asking me to?” Jessie asked between kisses.
“No,” you forced yourself to say. “I’m just saying you can if you like.”
“No can do, babe,” she said with a crooked grin. “As much as I want to, that’d be admitting defeat. Not going to happen. But if you want me to carry you upstairs and pound you until you’re screaming my name, your legs shaking as you cum all over my cock, I’d love to.”
You whined, your knees almost growing weak at the visual, but you found your resolve and turned her down.
The challenges escalated that night until you mutually decided to call a truce and stop teasing each other. It was an uncomfortable time for both of you coming down off of your arousal without any real relief, but stubbornness won out.
You were about a week away from the month being over when Jessie and you were on the couch watching a show together, you cuddled in next to her with her hand on your thigh. Her hand gently caressed you, very slowly moving higher until you shot her a look of warning.
“No?” She asked, a glint in her eye. “Is it getting you worked up?” You grumbled.
“You know it is,” you said as you nudged her.
“That’s too bad,” she said lightly. “I like touching you, knowing how you’re getting wet as you start thinking about my fingers or my cock or tongue in you.”
“Babe,” you scolded.
“And too bad you already used up your one pass for the week already,” she said with a fake look of apology. “I, however, have not. And, what can I say, thinking about you gets me worked up, too.”
She glanced down, drawing attention to the bulge starting to form in her pants. Before you could think of what to do or say, she undid her pants, shimmying them down her legs until she was clad in her boxers.
Your jaw dropped. Was she going to do what you thought she was? Jessie had never masturbated in front of you. By the time you looked up at her she had a faint blush on her face, but it was overshadowed by a smug smirk as she reached into her boxers and pulled out her swelling cock.
You let out a small exhale and she nipped at your neck.
“What’s wrong, baby?” She asked.
“This can’t be fair,” you told her.
“There’s no rule against it,” she countered as she licked her hand and began to stroke herself up and down. She locked eyes with you. “See what you do to me?”
“Oh God,” you said as your hand came to the back of your neck and rubbed agitatedly.
“How is it making you feel, baby?” She asked. “You seem restless,” she went on as she grew to full length and slowly pumped herself up and down. “I wish this was your hand. Or your mouth,” she said with a look to your lips.
She circled the thick head of her cock with her thumb. “And of course even better if I was slipping inside of your heat. I can practically feel your walls gripping me, pulling me in and massaging me.”
“I thought you said this kind of talk was against the rules,” you said as you squeezed your legs together in a vain attempt to find some relief.
A faint laugh escaped Jessie’s mouth as she nodded towards your lap.
“I know you’re thinking about how good it would feel - me filling you up, so deep inside of you. God,” she picked up her pace, letting her head fall back against the couch, “I can practically hear it. How wet it sounds every time I thrust in and out of you. I love the way you drip down my cock; knowing I made you that wet.”
You watched her, her hips thrusting up into her fist, the visual she painted for you, all the while a cute frown on her face as her cheeks reddened.
This whole bet was ridiculous.
You reached out, placing your hand over hers. She stopped the second you touched and looked over at you in surprise.
“I give up,” you told her. “I don’t care anymore. I want you. I’m so desperate for you.”
She seemed to process your words for a moment before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she smiled.
“Thank god,” she said in blatant relief. Her smile grew as you stood up and began taking your clothes off in a rush. She reached up now and then to help you and took off her clothes fully as well.
"God, you're gorgeous," she breathed as you pushed her back against the couch and were about to straddle her. You let out a small squeal of surprise when she flipped you so you were sitting and she was on top, swiftly dropping to her knees in front of you. She locked eyes with you and pushed your legs apart.
"Oh fuck yeah," she said appreciatively as her eyes fell to your dripping wet entrance. "God, I've missed you so much," she said, her shoulders falling as she spoke.
She reached under your legs, her arms hooking under your thighs and she pulled you to the edge of the couch. Not bothering with her typical teasing or foreplay, she buried her face in your slick folds right away and lapped hungrily at you, drawing a cry from you immediately. You clawed desperately at the couch moments in, the feel of her tongue and mouth on you something you'd been craving for weeks and been denied.
"Oh my God, Jess," you panted. "That feels so good," you breathed as she rocked her face into you and sucked on your clit.
You bucked your hips up into her as she tended to you with a determination and drive that had you peaking within a few short minutes. She licked and sucked and it sounded messy and wet, and it felt so incredibly good.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum already," you said, your face tensing up as your impending orgasm approached. She simply moaned and continued to care for you, her attention not wavering in the least.
Inevitably, your orgasm came crashing down on you. Your thighs flexed around her head and your hips jerked erratically up into her. It was so intense that any moan was caught in your throat and came out a strangled whimper instead.
When Jessie came up for air, she wiped her face with a shirt off the floor, rest her arms across your thighs and leaned up to kiss you. You languidly kissed her back, still finding your way through your post-bliss haze.
"I won the bet, right?" You heard her say as she settled back onto her heels. You slowly opened your eyes to see her looking at you curiously. You gave a nod.
“Yeah, I hate to admit it, but you did,” you said with a wry chuckle. You gave her a small smirk. “Which means,” you sat up, cupping her face and kissing her slowly, “you get to have your way with me.”
You watched as Jessie immediately grew flushed, her gaze flicking away momentarily. You cocked your head at her and couldn’t help but chuckle.
“What? Isn’t it a good thing?”
“It’s not necessary. It was just a fun bet. There’s no need. I didn’t have anything in mind,” Jessie went in to kiss you and you allowed it, but pulled back shortly.
“Wait. That can’t be true. You held on for that long, that determinedly, with nothing in mind?” You asked skeptically.
“Yeah, I'm competitive,” Jessie reiterated though the deeper shade of her cheeks and nervous smile told you there was more to it. You narrowed your eyes at her.
“Babe. Just tell me. I want to know,” you insisted. She didn’t immediately reject your request, but shied away still. You implored further. “Come on. Please. I want to know. And who knows? Maybe I wanted the same!”
“I doubt that,” Jessie returned with no hesitation. Now you were really curious.
“Well now you definitely have to tell me,” you said.
She looked away and chewed the inside of her cheek before huffing quietly and running a hand through her hair. She eventually looked back at you, holding your gaze but remaining wordless.
“Please tell me,” you urged softly as you cupped her face and thumbed her cheeks gently with one hand, but grasped her length with the other and stroked slowly. Her eyes closed momentarily before she held your gaze for a few long seconds and spoke.
“You can say ‘no’. Please know that. I 100% won’t mind. I only want to do it if you’re into it, too.” She waited for you to acknowledge her and you gave a nod. “I want to be inside of you, but…” her gaze flit about, “no condom.”
“Oh,” you said, many tones in one. She immediately looked concerned and you head her off. “That’s all?”
She frowned. “Yeah? I mean. It’s risky - you’re not on birth control. And I mean, I could pull out! But I know that’s still risky, so I totally get it if you aren’t comfortable."
“That sounds hot to me,” you responded, not needing long to think and she looked suspicious.
“Seriously?”
“Mmhmm,” you voice as you scooted to the edge of the cushion. You grabbed her hand and placed it between your legs, ensuring her fingers came into contact with the wetness that was already starting to form again.
“In case you need convincing,” you whispered in her ear. She groaned and her fingers began to massage you.
Her cock twitched when she felt how wet you were. She rose up onto her knees, grasping your ass and pulling you even further off the cushion. You let out a small yelp, but laughed as she smirked at you and began rubbing her cock up and down the length of your slit.
“Fuck, baby. I’ve missed you so much,” she said as she watched the way your lips parted as she pushed through your folds and over your clit. You spied the bead of precum that had formed at the tip of her cock over the past few minutes. You moaned.
“I need you inside of me,” you told her. She glanced up at you, pausing for a second before lining up the head of her length at your entrance. She watched intently as she shifted her hips forward ever so slowly, biting her lip as she watched the way you gradually stretched out around her, accommodating her width.
“God, you look so amazing taking me like this,” she said as she remained focused on the visual before her. Her mouth fell into an ‘O’ as she pushed inside and felt your walls surround her.
“Oh god,” she said, her forehead creasing in a frown, “you feel so incredible. I missed being inside of you. And you feel beyond amazing like this. Even better than I imagined. Holy fuck.”
It didn’t necessarily feel different to you, but just the thought and understanding that she was in you bare brought things to a whole other level. You pushed your head back into the couch and pulled her by the waist further into you.
“Fuck, babe,” she said with a light chuckle as you caused her to bottom out. “Jesus, slow down or I’m going to bust right away.”
You grinned and pulled her down into a kiss and rolled your hips against her.
Soon, Jessie had you half reclined on the couch, your legs wrapped around her waist as she pumped into you. The room was soon filled with whimpers and cries from you coupled with moans and grunts from her. The sounds of her hips bouncing off of you along with the sounds that came each time she thrust in and out of your wet tunnel were intoxicating.
“Hear how much I missed you? How much I need you?”
“Jesus Christ,” she grunted as she gripped your hips. “Fuck, I’m close already,” she said as she screwed her eyes shut.
She let out a quick exhale and wrapped her arms around you, one under you and another up along your back as she hoisted you off the couch and carried you into the kitchen, remaining inside of you. She kissed you as she set you down on the counter.
She held herself still as she played with your clit and kissed your neck. You flexed around her subconsciously and she groaned against your skin.
“Fuck, just being inside you is too good.”
When you were getting close she began to pull her hips back, drawing out to the tip before thrusting to the hilt once more.
“Baby, I’m so close,” you told her as you clutched her to you.
“Me too,” she panted as she pumped into you, having to pull you back towards her on the counter now and then from the force of her thrusts. She pumped into you a few times more before speaking again. “I can pull out.”
You dug your nails into her skin.
“Or not,” you said. Her pace faltered and she leaned back to look at you. You went on. “I want you to cum inside of me.”
“Oh fuck, babe,” she said, eyes shutting as she spoke. “Don’t tease.”
“I’m not. I want you to finish in me,” you told her.
She grunted, her fingers gripping your hips. “And…what if something, you know, happens?”
“Then, we can cross that bridge when we get there.” She watched you wordlessly and you smiled. “Honestly? It’s even hotter knowing that it’s all being left up to chance. That you’re so hot for me right now that you want nothing more than to spill yourself inside of me.”
“Jesus,” she said, her eyes rolling into her head before she screwed them shut. “That’s so sexy. God, I want to cum as deep inside of you as I can.”
“Then do it,” you said as you pulled her in for a kiss. The kiss broke off a few moments later as Jessie’s body tensed up as she pushed up into you, her hips rutting into you as a few short groans fell from her lips. She held herself tight against you as she pumped her cum into you.
Eventually, she drew her hips back and gave a few slow thrusts. She looked down at where your bodies were joined and her mouth fell agape in wonder.
“Holy,” she said as she saw a mixture of her cum and yours pooled around the base of her cock and the edge of your lips. The strings of cum stretched along her cock with every stroke. “This looks so fucking amazing, babe.”
She continued to slowly pump in and out of you, mesmerized by what she was seeing until she softened and fell out of you.
You spread your legs further, inviting her to watch as you reached down and rubbed her cum through your lips and circled your clit. You dipped two fingers inside of you. When you withdrew them they were coated in cum and you locked eyes with her as you brought them to your mouth and sucked them clean.
“Jesus Christ,” Jessie breathed with a laugh of appreciation. She ran a hand through her hair before rushing in to kiss you hard. You wrapped your legs around her once more and she began to grind herself against your core again. It wasn’t long before you felt her start to grow hard against you.
“God, I need you again,” she moaned into your heated kiss.
“So take me,” you said. Her chest rumbled as she lifted you off the counter and carried you over to the wall, pinning you against it before filling you in one swift motion.
A cry fell from your lips and she chuckled smugly into your neck as she began to rock herself in and out of you.
“I want to cum inside you again. Make you mine. Claim you all over this apartment,” she panted.
“Fuck, Jess,” you said as you clawed at her back. “You feel incredible inside of me. Make me yours.”
Soon, she had you bouncing up and down on her cock, your back rubbing roughly against the wall as she fucked you silly. Her fingers dug into the underside of your thighs and you knew she’d leave bruises but it turned you on even more.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to take you like this? No barrier - just you and me,” she said. “And God, it’s been impossible not fucking you these past few weeks. I’ve never wanted someone so badly. You’re so perfect.”
You moaned needily, each thrust causing your moan to stutter as her hips slammed into you.
“I can feel our cum dripping down my leg, baby. God, it’s so messy and I love it.”
“Fuck,” you hissed as you started cumming over her cock again. You tore up her back, which she’d give you heck for once you were both out of your lust-filled frenzy.
She grunted and clutched you tighter as she started to cum in you once more, her cock pulsing as she spilled rope after rope of cum in you.
She pressed you into the wall as she drained herself into you before gently lowering you both to the floor.
Your chest heaved as you fought to catch your breath and Jessie did the same. She eventually rolled off of you, a soft popping noise coming as she withdrew from you. You heard her chuckle softly.
“We are making an absolute mess,” she said, her smugness thinly veiled as you glanced down to see a small pool of cum beneath you where she’d just pulled out. You slapped her shoulder playfully and she laughed further as she laid on her back.
“I know how clean you like the apartment to be, so this really speaks to how horny you are,” you chuckled.
A couple of minutes passed and you sat up, looking down at her as she laid there with her arms behind her head. You straddled her and a crooked grin crossed her face. You kissed your way along her shoulder, up her neck and nipped at her ear before whispering.
“Did I mention that you’re the first person I’ve ever let cum inside me?”
“Oh shit,” Jessie said as her fingers gripped you. “That is so freakin hot. You don’t even know.” She kneaded the juncture between your hips and thighs and looked down at your core. “And I hope it stays that way.”
“Mmm, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want that,” you said.
“Yeah? You like me enough to stay?” She teased.
“You like me enough to keep me?” You countered.
“You know I do,” she said. “Sex aside and all. I love you and you know it,” she went on before rolling her hips against you. “And the fact that you get me hard back to back so quickly should tell you something too.”
“Mm,” you voiced as you rocked against her hardening member. “I do love having that effect on you.”
You rose up enough that the tip of her erection jutted against your entrance. You held her gaze as you sat down on it, arching your back at the sensation of her filling you up again.
Soon, you were riding her in the entry way of your apartment, her hands on your breasts as you bounced up and down on her thick cock. Your knees would be red and bruised after, but you really didn’t care in this moment.
At one point she grabbed your hips and started hammering into you from below and you moaned shamelessly at the feel of her stretching you out repeatedly.
“Fuck,” you cursed, eyes shut, your head falling back as she sent jolts of pleasure through your body.
When your legs began to shake from the effort combined with back to back orgasms. She held you in place for a second before nodding for you to get off. You wordlessly obliged, having trouble processing much of anything right now and she got up and carried you to the bedroom.
She shot you a salacious grin as she tossed you onto the bed. She grabbed you by the hips, flipped you over and tugged you up onto your knees as she climbed up behind you. She slapped your ass, the sound erupting across the room before she stroked your clit and lips several times, loving the way you fell onto your forearms with a whimper, ass angled up at her.
Another wanton moan tumbled out your mouth as she mounted you, her cock hitting your g-spot as she filled you.
She reached around and continued to circle your clit as she began to pump in and out of you.
You rolled your head back and forth across your arm as pulse after pulse of pleasure coursed through you as her hips bounced off of you.
She held you up as your legs shook. You felt a different type of pressure and heat building between within your core with every stroke. Your mouth opened several times and you stammered your bliss before it crested and you felt yourself gush against her.
“Fuck,” you managed to say as you squirted, your legs spreading wider as your juices ran down her legs and onto the bed.
“Oh my God, you’re so amazing,” Jessie said in awe, pausing inadvertently as she processed what was happening.
As she saw the pool of arousal on the sheets from you squirting, your heat stretching tightly around her cock, cum from your various rounds coating you both, her mind was in a total haze. She wrapped an arm underneath you and pulled you sharply against her, grabbing your shoulder with her other hand and started fucking you with abandon.
You felt pleasure and tension building again already as she railed you from behind. You were going to be so sore the next day, but it felt incredible.
“I’m going to pump you so full,” Jessie panted. “Fucking you so good you won’t ever want another cock.”
You wanted to respond, but you couldn’t formulate any words. All you could do was moan as you buried your face into the bed and bundled up the sheets in your fists.
“I love you so much,” she said, voice shuddering in exertion. “I’m only ever going to fuck you like this again. My cum leaking out of you as I keep fucking you raw. So if you don’t want to have my baby, we better get you some birth control.”
She grunted as her hips continued to slap into you, causing your body to jostle further into the mattress.
“I would offer to get snipped, but I want you to have my baby someday. So…”
You whined and you white knuckled the sheets even more. Her pace picked up and her whimpers rose in pitch.
“Here it comes,” she said before letting out a short yell as she doubled over you, pressing you into the mattress as she came impossibly hard inside of you, despite it being her third orgasm of the night.
She grunted a couple more times as her cock twitched inside of you. She laid heavy on top of you as you both lay there sweaty and spent.
“Oh fuck,” she eventually said as she rolled off of you. “Best bet I ever won,” she breathed.
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vroomvro0mferrari · 3 months ago
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LN4 | Vexing Vacation – Part 2
Summary: When you agreed to join your brother on his vacation, sharing a room with his best friend wasn’t part of the plan. Now, that you’re constantly stuck with Lando and his relentless teasing, you’re not sure whether you want to strangle him or kiss him.
Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader, one-bed trope, a lot of banter and a hint of forced proximity :)
WC: 3.6K
Warnings: mentions of sex/sexual insinuations, and curse words
Part 1 | Masterlist | Part 3
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She didn’t know how, but Y/N had eventually managed to fall asleep in that freezing cold room. It actually didn’t even feel that cold anymore when she woke up in the morning. Nevertheless, she tugged the blanket up higher and buried her head further into the pillow. That’s when she noticed it –  the heavy weight that was tightly gripping her waist, and the source of warmth against her. How had this happened? She was not even five centimetres away from the edge of the bed.
That little fucker.
Poor Lando wasn’t even properly awake when he was basically flung across the bed. He blinked groggily, rubbing his sleepy eyes. He looked up at her in confusion. “What the hell?” he grumbled, still trying to shake off the sleepiness.
Y/N, fuming, sat up and glared at him. “You were practically spooning me, Lando! What the hell’s wrong with you?”
Lando, rubbing his eyes, mumbled defensively, “I didn’t mean to! I must have just… rolled over in my sleep.”
She narrowed his eyes at him, pointing a finger in his face. “I warned you about this, Lando! I told you if you would cross over to my side I’d get Max to take care of you!”
Lando, now more awake, sat up and looked at her, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “I believe there was a promise of choking involved, too?”
Y/N’s jaw was slack in shock at his boldness. “Don’t be smart!”
“Come on, you were pretty cosy with me, too—”
“Cosy with you? I was on the edge of the bed! I literally would’ve fallen off if I moved any closer to the edge,” Y/N protested.
“You didn’t seem to mind the extra warmth,” Lando shrugged.
She glared at him. “Oh, please. It’s not like I had much of a choice with you clinging to me.”
Lando shook his head at her fiery temper; it was far too early for this. “Well, it’s not like you tried to push me away. I think you’re just too scared to admit you liked it,” he said, his smirk widening.
“Are you kidding me? I was practically falling off the bed. That was not enjoyment, that was survival. If you think that’s what enjoyment looks like, you’re obviously not very good in bed,” Y/N huffed, getting out of bed to collect her stuff.
“Wow, okay. I’ll have you know I’m very skilled, I get compliments all the time.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “Overcompensating much?”
Lando smiled suggestively, “If you want, you could find out for yourself.”
“Ugh, gross. Absolutely not. One night of accidental cuddling is more than enough.”
“If you change your mind, I’ll be more than happy to provide a demonstration,” Lando smirked.
“Dream on,” she concluded, stalking into the bathroom.
– – – – –
Half an hour later Lando and Y/N had joined Max and Pietra downstairs for breakfast, the intense discussion long forgotten. The soft sound of clattering plates and cutlery filled the hotel restaurant when they sat down. The group slowly ate their breakfast while they talked about possible activities for the day. After a vote, the plan was set: a morning hike, followed by an afternoon of exploring the town – especially the cute stores they spotted on their way.
And so, soon after they finished up their breakfast, they set out for their hike before it got too hot. The scenery was stunning; different types of trees and plants lined the pathway they followed, the sun shining through the leaves above them and every now and then, through the heavy bush, they could see the beautiful view of a lake nearby with tall mountains in the back. Unfortunately, the gorgeous sight was marred by Lando’s presence. Of course, he had to walk right behind Y/N, and couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.
“Careful there, don’t trip,” Lando told her as she manoeuvred over a large rock with little grip.
Y/N shot him a glare over her shoulder, mistaking the sincere concern in his voice for teasing. “I’ll take you down with me.”
Lando was surprised at the sharp response – he didn’t mean to insult or mock her. Y/N had always been witty; she always had a comeback ready for whatever Lando said, but she had never been good at noticing when Lando was genuine instead of taunting. She usually took all his comments as banter, even his attempts at flirting. Her consistent rejections made him play along; turning it into a joke instead of a true effort at pursuing his best friend’s sister. Maybe it was for the best; the dynamic worked, and Max would never allow anything more than friendship between them anyway. 
When the group reached the edge of the lake, they decided to take a break. They climbed down the rocks carefully and perched themselves on large stones scattered at the waterfront. Max searched through his backpack for the snacks Pietra had made them bring and offered everyone some. They drank water, ate something, and took a few pictures of the gorgeous view before continuing their hike.
Lando was the first to climb up the steep rocks back to the trail. He looked down while he waited for the rest, watching as Y/N struggled to find solid footing for the rather difficult climb. 
“Let me help you,” Lando offered, holding out his hand for her to take.
She glanced up at him. “I’m fine,” she said dismissively, right as her foot slipped. Before she knew it, she was reaching out for his hand, grasping it tightly while he steadied her. His grip was strong and he knelt closer to offer his other hand in case she should need it, gently pointing out where she should step next. His unwanted help annoyed her; she could do it herself, she just needed to regain her balance first. Regardless, she followed Lando’s advice, his casual yet firm guidance impossible to refuse. 
Once back on solid ground, Y/N felt a flush creep up her neck, embarrassed by her misstep and flustered by how unusually kind Lando had been. She avoided his gaze, brushing off her clothes as if that would somehow dismiss the moment. "Thanks," she muttered quickly, hoping to move on.
"No problem," Lando replied, his voice softer than usual. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart for making her uncomfortable; his only intention had been to help. As he watched her avoid his gaze, he couldn’t help but think she looked cute – adorable, even, all flustered and embarrassed. The way her cheeks flushed slightly warmed his heart. Normally, she would only show him her strong and independent side, always refusing to accept his help or express her true emotions when he was near. She didn’t want him to see her in a vulnerable state, but sometimes it couldn’t be avoided. And whenever Lando managed to catch a glimpse of that softer side, like now, all he felt was the overwhelming urge to protect her.
Lando shook his thoughts away, and continued his way, not straying from the trail this time. He walked next to Max, while Pietra followed Y/N closely, letting a distance grow between them and the boys further ahead.
“What was that?” Pietra asked her.
“What?”
“You know, Lando helping you, and then you blushing like crazy,” she clarified.
Y/N laughed nervously, “What? It was nothing!”
“Mhm, sure. You guys already seemed weird at breakfast. Did something happen last night?”
Y/N sighed, checking how far ahead the boys were. She deemed them far enough to be unable to eavesdrop. “Lando cuddled me tonight,” she admitted hesitantly.
“What?” Pietra nearly screeched.
“Yes. I don’t know how it happened. I was as close to the edge as possible, like five more centimetres and I would’ve fallen off,” she told Pietra, looking at her over her shoulder, “I even threatened that I would choke him in his sleep if he crossed to my half of the bed, but it made no difference…”
“So Lando cuddled you in his sleep, and now he helped you up the rocks? I have a feeling he’s got a crush on you, babes,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
Y/N laughed, “Oh, please, P. That’s not true, he’s been bothering me for five years now.”
She merely shrugged, a knowing smile on her face. Y/N rolled her eyes – she knew better than that.
They finished the hike half an hour later, not counting the brief stop at the viewpoint. Once back at the hotel, they quickly freshened up and wasted no time heading out again, eager to explore the nearby boutiques and picturesque streets lined with quaint houses. After grabbing coffee and a pastry at a small cafe, they began exploring the local shops.
The group split up as they wandered off to different stores. Y/N found herself drifting toward a small bookstore tucked away on a quiet street. She’d forgotten to pack a book for the trip – not that it would have fit in her overstuffed suitcase anyway. She picked up several books from the English section, reading the backs one by one, trying to decide which one she should read this vacation.
“Now that seems like a good literary piece,” Lando said from behind her, startling her.
“Jesus, Lando. Why would you do that?” She said, grabbing her chest with her free hand, nearly dropping the heavy books in the other.
Lando grinned. “You’re too easy to scare,” he teased, casually leaning against one of the shelves. “What are you looking at anyway?”
Y/N handed him one of the books. “Hm, a romance novel?” He said curiously and she flushed at the implication. 
“Not just a romance novel, it—”
“Anything where the main characters kiss is automatically romance, isn’t it?”
She sighed; Lando grinned.
“Why are you here? For as far as I know, you don’t read,” Y/N told him, taking the book from his hands, weighing her options.
“Thought I’d check on you. Make sure you didn’t get lost,”
Rolling her eyes, she put all books but one back in their places. “More like make sure you had another chance to annoy me,” she huffed, grabbing another book off the shelf.
Lando watched in amusement as she flipped through a few of the pages before putting it back.
“Okay, I’m buying this one. Do you want to look at a book for yourself, or can we leave?”
“I’m good,” he responded with that annoying smug smile of his tugging at his lips.
“Alright, then.” She nodded before heading to the register and paying for the book. Lando followed her out of the store and led them to a different one where Pietra and Max were waiting. They visited more stores until they felt it was time for dinner. As they were already in the town centre, they just walked around a bit until they found a restaurant that seemed to please everyone.
Y/N sat down at the table they were directed to, hanging her bag with the book on the chair. When she looked up again she saw that Lando had already claimed the seat next to her. She shot a questioning look at Pietra, who was sitting across from her, subtly signing with her eyes, ‘What is up with him?’ Pietra’s lips quirked into a knowing smile, her eyes glinting with amusement. She gave a small shrug as if to say, ‘You tell me’.
Dinner went much smoother this time around, especially since Lando couldn’t constantly stare at her face from her side. They had enough to talk about after all they had seen and decided to discuss their plans for tomorrow ahead of time. It would be a beach day, so the timing of buying the book was perfect. 
Halfway through the meal, Y/N felt the light pressure of Lando’s arm casually resting on the back of her chair. It wasn’t touching her exactly, but it was close enough to make her aware of his presence. She froze for a second, her fork hovering in midair as her body tensed.
Lando didn’t say anything, just continued eating as if nothing had happened.
Y/N glanced across the table at Pietra, widening her eyes slightly, slightly nudging her head to Lando’s arm. Pietra took a sip of her drink, suppressing a smirk as she met Y/N’s gaze.
She looked at Lando in annoyance before shifting in her seat, leaning slightly to the other side to put more distance between them.
Lando, of course, noticed. He turned to face her straight away with a confused look.
“Get your arm off my chair,” Y/N said harshly.
Lando raised an eyebrow, his expression mockingly innocent. “What? I’m not even touching you.”
Y/N glared at him, her voice firm. “You’re close enough.”
Lando chuckled under his breath, clearly amused by her irritation. “Oh, come on. I’m just being friendly.”
“Friendly would be keeping your hands to yourself,” she shot back, trying to ignore how much his teasing actually made her pulse race.
Lando raised his hands in surrender, but his eyes gleamed with amusement. “No need to get all worked up.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop the warmth creeping up her neck. “You wish I’d get worked up over you. I’d just prefer if you didn’t touch me.”
Lando shrugged. “For not wanting to touch me, you seemed to hold onto my hand pretty tightly earlier,” he teased, leaning closer while Max eyed you in surprise.
Y/N’s eyes widened slightly as she recalled the moment he helped her up, a blush once again covering her face at the memory. “I was trying not to fall, I wasn’t touching you voluntarily.”
Lando chuckled softly, the sound annoyingly charming. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
Y/N gaped at Pietra, who was still staring at her with a knowing smirk. She groaned in frustration before the conversation continued. Only a second later realising Lando still hadn’t removed his arm, she sent him another glare but didn’t bother asking him again.
The rest of the dinner passed relatively smoothly. Lando didn’t provoke Y/N much while they all chatted about tomorrow’s beach day and laughed about Max’s story of how he got stung by a jellyfish a few years back. By the end of the meal, Y/N had only needed to throw in a few comebacks and thought she kept her temper pretty well.
They paid the bill and left the restaurant, where the cool evening air greeted them. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, the lingering warmth of the meal dissipating quickly in the cool night breeze. The four of them strolled back towards the hotel, the streetlights casting shadows on the pavement.
In the elevator, Max and Pietra talked about what time they’d set out for the beach tomorrow, while Y/N leant against the wall, tired from the day’s activities, trying to ignore the fact that she and Lando would be alone again once they got back to their shared room.
When they finally reached their floor, Y/N said a quick goodbye to her brother and his girlfriend before trailing after Lando. She kicked off her shoes as soon as she entered the room and went in search of her toiletries. Once she’d gathered everything she needed, she made a beeline to the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower,” she announced, before promptly closing the door behind her. 
The clattering sound of the running water was a welcome distraction from her busy mind which, for some reason, kept replaying the moment in the forest. She could feel Lando’s calloused hand holding hers tightly every time the image reappeared in her head, the same tingling feeling emerging along with it, too. She could see the gentle look on his face, and feel her embarrassment at nearly falling on her face – it was like she was there again. The repeating memory was just as annoying as the man prominently featured in it. The man who seemed to always find a way to irritate her, even when she was alone, in the shower. 
She banished the recollection to the back of her mind and finished up her shower. She quickly dried herself off and put her underwear and top on before she reached for her shorts, only to realise they weren’t there. She sighed deeply, mumbling to herself, “Of course, I forgot my shorts. Why would anything go my way for once.” 
She groaned, running her hands over her face when another realisation came, “God, why did I only bring thongs?” 
She squealed into the towel, a loud high-pitched sound, at her own stupidity. 
”It’s all Max’s fault. If he hadn’t screwed up and gotten me my own room, everything would have been fine, but no!” She grumbled leaning her elbows on the counter, burying her face in her hands. “I’m going to kill him one of these days.”
Meanwhile, Lando had settled onto the bed, leisurely lying back, hands behind his head while he watched a random movie. Unbeknownst to Y/N, he could hear her frustrated mumbling coming from the bathroom, but he chose to remain silent until he heard her voice calling out louder.
“Lando?”
“Hm?” He responded uninterestedly.
“Could you please hand me my pyjamas? I forgot them…”
“Nah, I’m comfy. You’ll have to get them yourself.”
Y/N poked her head out the door. “Are you serious, Lando? I literally only have my underwear in here.”
Lando shrugged, not looking away from the TV, causing Y/N to sigh.
“Lando,” she warned, “if you don’t hand them to me, I swear—”
“I won’t look, promise,” he said, and she could hear the amusement in his voice.
With a deep sigh, Y/N tightened the short towel around her before she carefully stepped out of the bathroom, scanning the room to make sure Lando was keeping his word. He was lying in bed, hands behind his head, eyes lazily watching the TV playing some rerun of an old movie.
She tiptoed to the chair, where she thought her pyjamas were, but they weren’t there. Her eyes narrowed. Of course, they’d gone missing.
Muttering under her breath, she began searching through the drawers, still holding the towel tightly around her body. She bent down, checking the bottom drawer when she heard a low, barely audible curse behind her.
“Fuck,” Lando muttered, breaking the silence.
Y/N froze for a second before whirling around, catching his eyes very clearly locked on her. “What the hell, Lando! You promised you wouldn’t look!”
“Well, you said you only brought thongs. That’s not exactly encouraging me to look away.” 
“You heard that? You know what, never mind. Fuck off, Lando. Where’s your decency?”
“Non-existent,” he replied with a smirk.
“Look away, Lando.”
“I don’t see the appeal,” he said, his smirk growing.
“I swear to God, I’m going to kill you someday.”
“Have you thought yet about how? ‘Cause I’ve got a suggestion.”
She glared at him from across the room. “Do I even want to hear it?”
A playful grin spread across his face at her frustration, “Having you sit on my face seems like a pretty good way to go…”
“God, Lando. Get your head out of the gutter!” She exclaimed, mortified at his blunt response.
Y/N huffed in exasperation, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she turned her back to him, tightened the towel, and continued searching for her shorts. “You’re impossible,” she muttered under her breath, rummaging through the drawers with a little more force than necessary. Did he have no shame?
Y/N’s eyes scanned the room in growing frustration, her shorts nowhere to be found. She groaned softly, starting to doubt herself. Maybe she hadn’t packed them at all? No, that couldn’t be right, she wore them last night. They had to be around somewhere.
Lando, who had been watching her search in mild amusement, raised an eyebrow when she turned back to him with an accusing look. "You didn’t take my shorts, did you?"
He sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why do you always assume the worst of me?”
“Because the worst is usually true!” she snapped back, still glaring as if that would somehow force him to confess.
Lando chuckled. “I swear, I didn’t touch them,” he paused, a mischievous smile on his face,  “but you might want to check under the closet.”
Y/N narrowed her eyes but reluctantly looked under the closet, this time turning her back away from Lando – he had seen enough of her. Sure enough, her shorts were hidden underneath the closet, all the way to the back.
“Of course,” she muttered under her breath, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her.
Lando shot her a smug grin. “See? Sometimes the problem isn’t me – sometimes it’s you.”
She ignored his comment and grabbed the shorts, quickly making her way back to the bathroom to change. She let out a deep breath as she slipped into her pyjamas, mentally cursing herself.
Once she was dressed and ready for bed, she walked out, trying to keep her expression neutral. Lando was now walking around the room, collecting his toiletries and making a big deal of grabbing his pyjamas before disappearing into the bathroom while she settled into her side of the bed. She busied herself with her phone as she waited for Lando to come back before she turned off the light.
She pulled the blanket up high and immediately turned on her side. “Goodnight,” she mumbled, “you better stay on your side tonight.” 
“Goodnight, Y/N,” Lando replied overly sweet, as if mocking her warning.
She felt Lando shift in the bed as he lay down, but it stayed at that. Maybe she would have a peaceful night tonight.
– – – – –
Part 3
@dripostsstuff @willowsnook @f1fantasys @sarx164 @watermelonslut @diorsummer @zzfhcp @spideylovin @harrysdimple05 @pattydel @mayusaatma @leonie404 @mywritersmind @weekendlusting
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softspiderling · 9 months ago
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illicit affairs - part one | r.c.
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summary:
“I’ll be upstairs with Monique, a’ight?” he said, muttering in your ear. “Are you okay getting the drinks to the boys?”
“Yeah yeah,” you huffed with a wave. “Go on. Be safe.”
Rafe smirked at you, ignoring how Monique was staring daggers at you. “Come get me if anything’s wrong, you hear me precious?”
OR; Topper gets duped by a pretty “bartender”, Rafe (almost) has another hook up, and you're trying to tell yourself that this is enough.
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
warnings: mention of drugs and alcohol (weed!), this chapter has no smut, but the later parts will so 18+ MDNI!
word count: 2,5k
author's note: wait... is this finally the first chapter of illicit affairs?🤭 yes it is!!! ik i've been teasing it for so long but it's finally hereee!!! inspired by my own tom holland fic (don't talk to me pls) and it has evolved into a series... i hope you love it so much!!!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
part one: "don't call me kid"
Women and men can’t be “just friends”.
You had always hated that saying. Like, why the hell couldn’t men and women be friends? All three of your best friends were guys, and you didn’t even remotely want to be anything more than friends with any of them.
Okay, maybe you wouldn’t mind being more than friends with one of them.
Bane of your existence.
Pain in the ass.
Annoying as hell.
Your best friend, Rafe Cameron.
You tried so hard to not be in love with him, to only be his friend. Mostly because it would make your life so much less complicated, but also because you hated proving that saying right by being in love with your guy best friend.
“Hey, you still with us?”
“What?”
Rafe stared at you with a frown, before he plucked the joint from your lips.
“You nearly smoked the entire thing by yourself. What’s got you thinking so hard?”
He raised an eyebrow at you while taking a hit from the joint, barely pulling it from his lips before Kelce snagged it from him.
“Greedy bitch,” Rafe huffed before he turned his attention back to you. “You tired, precious? Want to leave?”
You rolled your eyes at the nickname - despite the long tradition of it - and shook your head. “Nah. It’s not even one. And Topper hasn’t made a fool of himself yet.”
“Fuck you,” Topper shot back immediately, moving his cup out of the way when you reached for it. “No, no drinks for mean girls.”
“Come on, don’t be such an asshole,” you whined, smacking your mouth a little to get rid of the dryness the joint has left. Making grabby hands at the cup, you annoyed Topper until he finally gave in, handing you his cup. You took a big gulp, before you pulled a face, pushing the cup back into his hands, barely able to swallow whatever the hell he was drinking.
“Ew, what is that?”
“Some girl in the kitchen made it for him,” Rafe told you, snickering. “I don’t think he was even watching what she was pouring into his cup. Too entranced by her pretty eyes.”
“She said she’s a bartender,” Topper said defensively and you only snorted. He made it far too easy for girls to mess with him.
“Top, I love you,” you said, getting to your feet and straightening your clothes in the process. “But please, you can’t keep falling in love with every pretty girl who pays attention to you.”
“But I’ve been in love with you for six years precious,” Topper proclaimed as he clutched his chest melodramatically, “When will you give me a chance?”
You only scoffed at his antics, twisting your hair up before putting a hair clip in it. “You wish,” you said, slapping his hands away. “I’ll get us some new drinks.”
“I’ll come with,” Rafe offered.
“Can you get me one too?” Kelce piped up and you pinched his cheek, making him wince.
“Vodka soda?”
Kelce gave you a dirty look, rubbing his cheek before he nodded petulantly. You gave him a thumbs up, grabbing Rafe by the wrist to drag him inside.
It was incredibly packed as soon as you entered the house from the backyard, the body heat from about 50 drunk people raising the temperature indoors and it smelled like the inside of a beer keg. Rafe kept his hand on your lower back, to not lose track of you as you carefully weaved between the people on your way to the kitchen. You tried not to get distracted by how his hand occasionally brushed over your exposed skin whenever your top rode up. He had always been this way. Running a hand through Topper’s hair to annoy him, clasping Kelce’s shoulder whenever he drank too much and was hanging over the toilet, squeezing Wheezie’s arm in a quick hug, and keeping his hand on your lower back whenever the two of you were walking somewhere crowded. He liked to show affection the way his father failed to do. So you refused to overthink it when his hands splayed over your skin, despite your heart racing whenever it happened.
Losing yourself to your thoughts for a second, you didn’t pay any attention when some guy walked into you, too busy talking with his friend to watch where he was going. You nearly went flying face down on the ground, but Rafe’s hand quickly found your waist, steadying you.
“Hey, watch it!” Rafe snapped at the guy, who only raised his hands in defense.
“I’m fine,” you insisted, gently pushing his hands off of you. “We’re nearly there, don’t start a fight.”
Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Rafe giving the guy a stink eye before you reached the kitchen, where it luckily wasn’t as cramped, with only a handful of people mingling and talking. Grabbing four cups off of the stack on the kitchen island, you pursed your lips as you let your eyes roam over the options, rows, and rows of alcohol.
“Do you want a beer or something harder?”
“Beer, I think I might have to drive us home,” Rafe replied, grabbing the vodka bottle that was on his left, and handing it to you.
You unstacked the cups on the counter and poured vodka into three of them. Rafe reappeared by your side - not that you had noticed him leaving, you were too focused on making sure there was an equal amount of vodka in all the cups - sipping on a beer, a jug of cranberry juice in his other hand. You grabbed the jug out of his hand, wordlessly, filling your cup to the brim.
“Where’s the club soda?” you asked, glancing at him over your shoulder. Rafe only shrugged.
“Couldn’t find it.”
“Here’s club soda, Rafe,” a flirty voice suddenly said, and Monique Colver batted her long, fake eyelashes at Rafe.
“Thanks Monique,” Rafe replied with a smirk, taking the bottle to give it to you, which you accepted wordlessly.
Here we go.
“Call me Moni.”
“Moany?” you muttered under your breath while you filled the other two cups, barely wincing when Rafe gave you a side eye, acting like he was listening to every word that left Monique’s lips.
“- but I told my dad I really wanted to travel a bit so he got a me a trip to Europe.”
“Oh yeah? What countries you tryna see?”
Ugh.
You downed your entire cup in one go, already refilling it when you heard “show you” and “upstairs” and you rolled your eyes. You lifted your cup to your lips, basically putting your entire face in it, really, anything to remove yourself from this conversation, only pausing with drowning yourself when you felt Rafe’s hand on your lower back. Again.
“I’ll be upstairs with Monique, a’ight?” he said, muttering in your ear. “Are you okay getting the drinks to the boys?”
“Yeah yeah,” you huffed with a wave. “Go on. Be safe.”
Rafe smirked at you, ignoring how Monique was staring daggers at you. “Come get me if anything’s wrong, you hear me precious?”
You flipped him off and he took that as a sign to leave, following Monique as she dragged him upstairs.
“Bitch,” you muttered to yourself, grabbing the three cups on the counter and heading back outside to the boys.
It was a miracle that not a single drop was spilled on the way, probably because you were too busy trying not to imagine what was going on upstairs.
“There she is!” Kelce greeted you. “Almost died of thirst. What took you so long?”
“Don’t ask,” you muttered, handing them the drinks and Topper eyed you suspiciously. Acting like you didn’t notice it, you plopped yourself into the empty seat next to them, taking a big gulp from your drink.
“Where’s Rafe?”
“Where do you think?” you said with a sigh, giving him a look.
You weren’t jealous.
Okay, you were.
But it wasn’t the main reason why you were so annoyed.
You just hated it when the girls Rafe hooked up with always treated you like you were their competition, like you would take him away from them.
Which, fair, you could if you wanted. If you faked an injury or being sick, Rafe would immediately drop them to get you home.
But he’d never want you the way he wanted them. Yes, you knew he loved you, and yes he was your best friend, but you couldn’t help but want more. Maybe that was selfish. You let out a small sigh, leaning your head on Kelce’s shoulder, missing the way he glanced at Topper. Lucky for you, they decided against pushing it. Taking a sip from your drink, you tried not to think about Monique and Rafe. It didn’t help that the vodka and the joint were starting to work, spreading into your system, making you feel all warm and woozy, your head cloudy.
Your eyebrows shot up when Rafe suddenly appeared, squeezing himself between you and the armrest, his hair disheveled. You were still stewing, looking at him with a crease on your forehead.
“That was quick,” you noted. “Where did you leave Moany?” You couldn’t help but ask, putting emphasis on her nickname.
Rafe only shook his head, plucking your cup out of your hand to take a big gulp.
“That man is traumatized,” Kelce pointed out, nodding in understanding like he didn’t need any further explanation.
“Wait, Monique Colver?” Topper asked. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
Rafe held up his hand, stopping him. “Yes, but that wasn’t the problem.”
You rolled your eyes, already knowing what was coming. He was such a drama queen sometimes.
“What did she do?”
Rafe didn’t answer, taking another sip of the drink, before he winced. “She told me to call her precious.”
“What?!”
“HUH??”
“Ew!”
“You know what’s the worst?” Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I didn’t even get off.”
“That’s your biggest problem??”
He rolled his eyes at you, shifting on the sofa. “Pretty big, yeah.”
“Ugh.”
“Can we get back to Monique wanting you to call her precious?” Kelce interjected. “Did Rafe call you precious in front of her?”
“Yes, very clearly. There’s no way she didn’t hear,” you replied.
“Maybe she hates your guts and she wanted to roleplay being you while Rafe abuses her in a sex-way.”
“Kelce, literally never open your mouth again,” you groaned, covering your ears with your hands, while Topper cracked up, Rafe only pulled a face.
“It makes sense,” Topper insisted. “Like, precious is the only girl who’s been around us, or well, Rafe, constantly. You know, apart from Sarah and Wheezie. Maybe that was Monique’s way of telling you she wants to be your girlfriend.”
“What?” Rafe asked, his forehead creased.
You snorted, shaking your head. “You’re giving her way too much credit, I think she’s just weird.”
“You’re biased,” Topper pointed out, reaching behind Kelce’s to boop you on the head. “I don’t think you’ve ever liked any of the girls Rafe hooked up with.”
“Ugh, what’s there to like? They either act like I’m invisible or are passive aggressive bitches,” you huffed, smacking his hand away. Rafe snickered, throwing an arm around your shoulder to pull you close, pressing a kiss on your head.
“They’re jus’ jealous, cuz you’re the only girl I keep around.”
“Get off me,” you grumbled, your cheeks warming regardless. Rafe knew how to make you feel special.
Kelce yawned, stretching his arms, laying one of them on top of Rafe’s arm around your shoulder. “This party sucks. And I’m starving.”
“I’m so down for tacos right now, do you think Mateo’s still open?” Topper asked, sitting up straight because if there was one thing he took seriously, it was tacos.
“It’s two am on a Saturday,” you pointed out, and his shoulders sagged. You exchanged looks with Rafe, a grin growing on your face. “His truck is definitely still open.”
“Alright!” Topper cheered, jumping up. “Let’s go then!”
He dragged the rest of you off of the couch, herding you through the backyard and to the car, all the while laughing and joking around. You ignored the dirty looks you received from others as you got into the passenger seat, Rafe getting into the driver’s seat of his truck.
It didn’t take long until Rafe pulled up into the parking lot where Mateo’s food truck was parked, the four of you tumbling out of the car, Topper nearly falling flat on his face as he sprinted to the food truck. The light was still on, with faint Spanish music playing in the background.
“If it isn’t my four favorite Kooks,” Mate said, wiping the counter with a towel, before throwing it over his shoulder, eyeing you expectantly as you stood in a row in front of him. “Can I help you?”
“Do you have any carne asada tacos?” Kelce asked, peering over the display.
“Even four would be enough,” Topper added, wringing his hands nervously.
Mateo sighed and you’d already come to terms with having to go to bed with a taco craving, before he grinned at you, shaking his head fondly.
“Grab some drinks and have some patience, I’ll feed you in a second.”
Ten minutes later, the four of you were chowing down on some tacos, washing it down with ice-cold cans of coke.
“Fuck, I so needed this,” Topper moaned, biting into his third taco and you rolled your eyes at him, dabbing at your mouth with a napkin.
“Get it together Top.”
Rafe nudged you with his knee, giving you a look. “Give him a break, I know you’ve been craving some tacos as well,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, which made you pull a face.
“Eurgh, please use a napkin you slob.”
You pushed the stack of napkins in his direction and he only grinned at you, picking up some off the stack to wipe his mouth.
“What would I do without you?” he teased, but you only rolled your eyes fondly, picking up some nachos.
“Whatever, eat your damn taco.”
Rafe squeezed your wrist with his clean hand, and you only leaned your head on his shoulder, starting to zone out when they started talking about some new boat, just enjoying their company. Honestly, you were glad you had them. Even if they were boys, incredibly dumb, and lacked a little tact sometimes, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You glanced down, where your legs were pressed against Rafe’s as you sat next to each other on the picnic bench, just like always.
Maybe, you thought to yourself, maybe this was enough.
“You good?” Rafe asked, raising a brow at you, taco halfway into his mouth.
“Yep, ‘m perfect.”
It had to be.
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author's note: tell me what you think pls!!!
🏷️list: @maybankslover
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webslingingslasher · 2 years ago
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hey, i loveee your writings! i was wondering if you could write a fic or one shot of peter parker and reader getting into an argument based off of peter parker saying something to his friends behind readers back about reader that hurts her feelings? ending is up to you! thanks!
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii dunno how i feel about this
You were many things. 
Beautiful, talented, smart, caring, affectionate, loyal, honest, needy. 
Needy. 
Needy, needy, needy. 
Needy, he called you needy. 
Were you needy? You didn’t think so, but then again, would you be aware if you were? 
Maybe he didn’t mean it, it was a private conversation. He could’ve been just venting, ranting about small things. You’ve done it before with your friends, it could be harmless. 
But, god it hurt. It was so casual coming from his mouth, like it’s a common thought passing through his mind. 
“Hi petey,” you said with a hum, he had just left yours to hang out with his friends when he called. 
Silence drifted on the line. 
“Petey?” 
Shuffles, maybe a cough? Murmured voices, nothing too solid. 
“Peter, you there?” 
Laughs break through, you understand it was a buttdial. 
You were about to hang up but Peter moved around, suddenly the voices were crystal clear. 
“So, how is it with your girl, parker?” 
You think it’s Mark. 
It’s wrong to eavesdrop but if your partner accidentally called while they were about to talk about you, wouldn’t you listen, just for a second? 
Notes from future self, don’t. 
“Eh,” you imagine him rubbing at the back of his head, “good, good. It’s good.” 
Good? 
Good, that’s it? 
Good? 
You thought everything was great, wonderful in fact. When your friends ask about Peter you take your time on the soapbox preaching, he wants to end the conversation immediately. 
Is that a good sign or a really bad sign? 
“Just good? Don’t tell me she stopped putting out, I know how chicks are.” 
“Don’t talk about her like that, Logan.” 
Peter came to your defense, point one for parker. 
On the other side of the line Logan holds his hands up in surrender, “didn’t mean to poke the bear there, parker. Get your girl to suck your dick, you’ll be fine.” 
Next time you see Logan you’ll clobber him. 
Peter grunts, he’s never liked Logan and neither did the friend group. But every group needed that one person that was mutually hated so there was always something to joke and talk about. 
“She sucks my dick just fine, you sound jealous. I’m sure she’s got a friend that’ll pity fuck you.” 
Your eyebrows furrow, Peter doesn’t talk like that. At least not around you, is this what the ‘saturday’s are for the boys’ boys mean when they say locker room talk? 
Mark cuts back in, he lights up a joint. 
“I’m sure parker is just fine, he can barely rip himself away from Y/N.” He coughs on the smoke between laughs, Peter stays quiet. He’s wondering if he should tell his friends this, it’s nothing serious and it didn’t really bother him, and he didn’t want to say anything to you because he knows you’d take offense and stop it; and he’d miss it way too much. 
“Yeah, that’s kinda the problem.” 
He mumbled it, but he said it and what the fuck did that mean? 
You couldn’t stop now, you pray he doesn’t see you’re connected to the call. 
“Trouble in paradise? Do tell.” Mark offers the joint to Peter, he accepts it and passes it to Logan. 
“Sometimes I feel like she’s all over me and needs me for everything, I dunno.” 
Peter tugs at his hair, he’s not saying it right. 
“I think I feel like no matter how much I’m there it’s not enough, she’s so needy.” 
Gut punch. You took such a sharp inhale you have to stop breathing to make sure Peter didn’t pick up on it. You’re reeling trying to look at it from his side, you didn’t seem needy, but everyone’s idea of needy must be different. 
Sure, you do try to extend his visits for as long as possible but that’s because some weeks you feel like you don’t see him but for a few hours and you’re willing to scrape up as much time as possible. And because you love him. And sure, there have been times you ask him to do things or help you but you love watching him fix things around your apartment and have him take extra time to dote on you. And because you love him. 
You want to hang up, you don’t want to know why he thinks you’re needy. If you do then you’ll spiral and question everything you do from here on out. 
On Peter’s end he pulled his phone out to check to see the time, and if you’ve texted. His eyes widen at the screen, he feels like he stopped breathing before he whispered a “fuck” under his breath, he looked at the screen and tried to pretend it wasn’t real. 
It was. Bold and in his face, your saved name and small lettering below it, ‘call connected’ you’ve been on the line for six minutes. You heard absolutely everything, in a panic he hung up the call which was the worst thing he could’ve done, because now you know he knows, and suddenly you realized that if he thought you were needy you’d show him you weren’t. 
—----------------------------------
There is no surprise your boyfriend is pounding on the door. 
Not loudly, but constant and quickly, demanding to not be ignored. 
Like his four missed calls. 
After two straight minutes of his rapping you finally swung the door open, waiting for him to bombard you with reason and apologies. He looked surprised. Peter opens and closes his mouth, he doesn’t know what to say exactly.
Your eyebrow raises at his silence, “you had forty minutes, four missed calls, seven ignored texts, banged on my door for two minutes, and in all that time you didn’t think of one thing to say?” 
“I’m sorry?” He looks sheepish, he gave a tiny shrug. Hoping you’ll find him cute enough to be let off the hook, like a kid with cookie crumbs around his mouth claiming he didn’t know who ate them. 
You run your tongue over your teeth and click them, “yeah, no.” You try to swing the door shut and he foot catches it. 
“Baby,” he catches your eyes, his own look wet and sad. He looked remorseful for his words but didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.” 
You know what you want to say, you want to tell him that it hurt your feelings, that you didn’t know you were being that way, why he didn’t tell you, why he felt that way, a million things ran through your mind. 
But that would make him right. Needy about answers, about why he would think that. That would prove him right, and you weren’t needy, you didn’t think you were but anything he might deem as needy wouldn’t be done anymore. 
“It’s okay.” 
Peter pulls his head back, he’s unsure if you know what you said. 
“It’s…okay?” 
You nod, “yeah, sure, I understand, you were just venting, and I shouldn’t have been listening.” 
“But that doesn’t make it okay, because if you did that to me I’d be hurt.” 
But I wouldn’t do that, I only praise you around my friends.  
“Yeah, well, fuck around and find out, you know.” 
It feels off, this is why Peter didn’t want to tell you anything. He knew you’d pull away from him, you already are. 
“Wanna watch a movie? I heard there’s -” he tries to move around your shoulder to come in but you move to block him entirely. He looks at you half confused, half offended. 
You didn’t need him. He had plans with his friends and you weren’t about to prove them all right and have Peter come running back to you, like he always does, and try to fix things. 
This time Peter wouldn’t fix things, you were. It was clear what he didn’t like, so you’ll stop doing it. 
“Don’t you have plans tonight?” 
Peter snorts, “since when do you care? You always beg me to stay with you anyways.” 
Is that one? One of the things that made him think you were needy? 
Not tonight. 
“I won’t beg tonight then, go have fun.” 
Peter regrets everything about the past two hours, he should’ve stayed when you asked the first time. 
“I have more fun with you, lemme in.” Peter tried to push past but you were adamant he leaves. 
“Go smoke some weed with Mark, come back when you have the munchies. I’ll make cookies.” 
Peter shakes his head, “I don’t wanna hang out with them right now, I want to hang out with you.” He tries to move past you for the third time, you put a hand on his chest to push him back.
“No you don’t. You feel guilty and want to prove something to me or yourself or whatever, and I don’t need Logan thinking if you don’t grovel at my feet then I’ll stop sucking your dick.” 
Peter jumps in immediately, “that was fucked up, and I know I said some shitty things too but I didn’t want him thinking I wasn’t getting laid.” His eyes blow up, he moves his hands around, “not that that matters! Cause I’d love you no matter how much we had sex, but we are having sex and he-” 
You hold up a hand to stop him, “I don’t know where you think that’s going but it’s nowhere good. You’re just digging a deeper hole.” 
Peter’s voice is panicked, “there’s a hole?” 
You sigh and clasp your hands, you point them at his chest. 
“I’m not mad and I don’t need you here, I also don’t need you trying to make a point about not meaning it. You said it and you meant it, don’t lie to my face. Either man up or go back to your friends.” 
You were right, this is going nowhere good and Peter knows it. 
“This shouldn’t be a fight, right?” 
You shrug, “I dunno.” 
Peter pleads with you, he wants anything, something he can work off of. 
“I’m sorry, I really am.” He reaches for your hands and you let him hold them, he rubs his thumbs over the back of your hands. 
“Are you sorry you said it or sorry you got caught?” 
Peter doesn’t know how to respond yet, he doesn’t know how to be honest without offending you and he doesn’t want one thing to change. 
“I just….” He groans and tilts his head back, “can I please come inside?” 
You take him in and decide it’s okay for him to enter, your head looks at your roommates door to make sure it’s still closed. 
Peter flops on the couch and slaps the coffee table, you take a seat where he called and waited. 
“You’re not needy. Not at all, and don’t think I’m just saying that because I think that’s what you want to hear. Needy is the wrong word, it makes you seem annoying or unbearable and I promise you’re my most favorite person in the world, so it’s not that.” 
You whisper your words, your thumbnail being nibbled on. 
“So what did you mean?” 
“I don’t even know!” Peter stresses his point, you can see how upset he is, that he not only said it, but couldn’t place it. 
“I just think maybe,” he groans, he doesn’t like being vulnerable. He’s the strong one in the relationship, it wasn’t very manly to cry over loving your girlfriend too much. 
Peter rubs at his cheek and shrugs, “I don’t know.” 
Your eyes narrow, “liar.” 
Peter folds his cards, the only thing he has to lose here is you, and he will if he doesn’t be honest. But it’s a whole new level to him, a layer he’s about to peel back, one that isn’t so light and happy. It’s a side very few people have seen, he’s scared to show it to you. 
“Can we talk?” 
You look at him oddly, “we are?” 
“Private.” 
You’re confused but lead him to your bedroom. Peter didn’t know how to tell you he was about to cry, but when he did he didn’t want your roommate seeing it. 
You wait for Peter’s lead when you reach your room, he pushes you towards your bed for you to take a seat, he stands between your legs and cups your face. Peter tilts your head up until he’s looking down into your eyes, he looks troubled. A small tired grin hugged his lips, “hi baby.” 
“Hi, peter.” you whispered soft, his thumb brushed your bottom lip. 
He takes in a deep breath like he’s remembered the task at hand. 
“I’m about to tell you something I haven’t told anyone else, and it’s a different Peter than you’re used to.” Peter presses a kiss to your forehead and steps back, this time he takes a seat at your desk chair. 
“I don’t think you're needy. I don’t even know what to say, cause like, fuck… I don’t, look, spider-man has a lot of people that need him, right? And he works hard all day and has no one to share it with, but I do. I get to tell you about my shit days, and you’ll patch me up and I’ll pretend to leave just so you can ask me to stay over, and honestly? It feels nice to have someone who needs Peter and not spider-man for once.” 
You try to speak but he stops you, he looks like he’s about to cry. 
“I look forward to it too much. I fucking sit here and play pretend, like it’s a chore to spend time with you, and you always ask me how I do it so good and I’m just so used to hiding it. I’m so used to hiding this lonely feeling, like nothing is enough, and then I had you.” 
Peter shakes his head slowly, he wipes at his nose. Tears drop casually with every few blinks as he speaks, you want to hold him to you forever. 
“I didn’t have to do anything because you did, you made all the decisions I wanted to in the first place. I love when you ask me to fix things, and when you want me to spend every second with you, when you want me to skip a night out, when you get me to stay over for the third night in a row.” 
Peter wipes his eyes, he sniffs and breathes out shakily, this is what it’s about, right? 
“Baby, you aren’t needy. I am.”
“And you projected that on me.” It wasn’t a question. 
He laughs, a tear drips down his nose, he wipes it away.
“I’ve never felt so needed and wanted in my life, and I am so terrified I’ll fuck it up and lose it all.” 
You’d never do that, if the relationship ends it won’t be on your terms.
Finally you stand and sit on his lap, he welcomes you and for the first time you notice how tight he’s always wanted to hold you, forever stuck in his grasp. You straighten the collar on his shirt and fix his hair, his eyes shiny from his tears. 
“You could, you could fuck it all up and lose it.” 
You press your forehead against his, “but I need you too much.” 
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marauder-misprint · 1 month ago
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Hii!! I just wanna say, ur writing is genuinely AMAZING. Like, actually tear inducing, feet-kicking, giggling-in-bed kind of amazing. This is my first ever request so bear with me 😔: for your 200 followers celebration (congrats by the way), I was wondering if you could do the prompt 10: “Too good for you? Don’t be ridiculous—they don’t deserve you.” Where reader is in a kinda toxic relationship and Remus, her bestie makes her realize this while also realizing her feelings for him?? Idk if this makes sense I’m sryyy 😭. Totally fine if u don’t feel comfortable doing it, or are to busy! Ignore my ineligible ranting, I for ur I hope ur doing well! Have a good rest of ur day/night!! :)
- 🌅
Thank you!!! This was so much fun to write ♡ Hope you enjoy it
Fireside Conversations
Remus Lupin x fem!Gryffindor!reader
2k words
cw: fluff, toxic relationship
The Gryffindor Common Room was quieter than usual. Which is why everyone there heard your disgruntled groan followed by you basically yelling, “Would you just listen!” as the portrait opened and closed. Peter was shaking his head as he approached the rest of the Marauders where they gathered on the couches by the fire. 
“They are fighting again,” he says as he sits down next to James. He didn’t need to say who. They knew. 
“That’s, what, third time this week?” James asks.
“At least,” Peter responds.
Remus stands up, looking at the portrait hole concerned.
“Moony, don’t,” Sirius says with a warning tone. “She doesn’t want us meddling, remember?”
“I’m not going to meddle,” he says unconvincingly. He wasn’t planning on meddling, rather eavesdropping, which in his defense, you never said he couldn’t do. He found it was easier to comfort you when he knew exactly what the bastard you called your boyfriend did this time. That was why he was going to listen… and to step in or meddle if things got out of hand. 
Remus walks over to the portrait and cracks it open the tiniest bit. He cast a muffling charm behind him so that your voice wouldn’t carry too far into the common room and then hoped you and your boyfriend would be oblivious to the ever-so-slightly open portrait.
“You need to stay away from them,” Remus hears your boyfriend tell you. “They’re using you to get into your pants.”
You scoff. “You’re being ridiculous! I’ve been friends with them since first year, and that’s all we are! We’re friends. Totally platonic. It’s you I like and that’s all that matters!”
“I know you like me. It’s them I don’t trust. So you need to stay away from them.”
“But I trust them. Isn’t that enough?”
“No, it’s really not. I think you’re blinded by them being in Gryffindor with you. You can’t trust everyone in your house, darling.”
“But they’ve earned it.”
“Listen, listen, I’m just worried for you. You spend so much time with them that it feels like you’re putting space between us. I think they’re trying to break us up.”
“They wouldn’t!” you protest. “And even if they were, I wouldn’t let that happen.” 
“Baby, just listen to me, okay? I wouldn’t steer you wrong, would I?”
You sigh and say in a mumble, “No, you wouldn’t.”
Remus lets the painting close quietly and he returns to the couches looking more grumpy than usual. 
“What’s birdbrain up to now?” Sirius asks. 
“Apparently the four of us are trying to seduce her.”
The three boys burst out laughing, a tiny snippet of the rambunctious noise that usually filled the common room. The grumpy look did not leave Remus’ face. It remains as you enter the common room, still looking upset and rubbing your eyes. You give the boys the briefest of glances before looking away and beelining it to the girls’ dorms. 
“Of course he made her cry,” Remus scowls. 
---
He loves me. I love him. He loves me. I love him. 
You kept repeating that in your head. Your boyfriend just cared for you, that’s all. He just cared so, so much. Almost too much. Was that something to fault him over? Goodness, you didn’t want to.
He loves me. I love him. 
Maybe if you said it enough, it would soothe your uneasiness. You’re laying in bed. Sleep was refusing to take you so you toss and turn, trying to make the least amount of noise with your rustling sheets. You really didn’t want to wake Lily or Marlene or Mary and have to have a heart-to-heart about why you can’t sleep. 
He loves me. I love him. 
Eventually, enough is enough. You climb out of bed, grab your robe and go to the common room. You almost laugh when you see Remus already sitting by the fire. From the way he’s sitting, he most definitely has a book in his lap. You stand quietly next to an armchair near him.
“Mind if I join you?” you ask softly. 
He jumps slightly but smiles as soon as he recognizes your voice and looks up. 
“Please,” he breathes, gesturing to the chair you’re standing by. “Couldn’t sleep?”
You nod as you tuck your legs underneath you.
“What’s eating your mind, love?”
“Nothing. Just couldn’t sleep.”
“Don’t lie to me.” His voice was so knowing yet gentle. And he always could tell when you lied and he refused to tell you what your tell was. 
You sigh. “Can you love someone too much?”
Remus doesn’t respond right away; he doesn’t know how to. Did you love your boyfriend too much? Did he love you too much? Was it a good thing or a bad thing to love too much? 
You look at the fire, waiting for Remus to answer. You don’t mind that he isn’t answering right away. You like that he’s thinking about it, choosing his words carefully. It was one of the things you loved about him.
“I… I don’t think you can love the right person too much. Your love won’t be too much or too little when it’s right.”
When you look at Remus, he’s already looking at you with so much concern and love in his eyes. You rest your head on your hands.
“When did you get to be so wise, Lupin?”
He shrugs. “One of the perks of being an old man, I guess.”
You sigh. You think Remus looks very cozy in his sweater and pyjama bottoms. There was something about him that always seemed cozy and comfortable. Being with him was one of the places you felt most at ease. 
You need to stay away from them. 
Your boyfriend’s words echo in your mind. It makes you want to cry. You want him to be the right person, but you couldn’t stay away from the Marauders, most of all Remus. He was your best friend. What if your boyfriend was the right person for you but you weren’t his?
“I… I don’t think I’m enough for him,” you mumble. “He’s too good for me.”
Remus stares at you dumbfounded. 
“Too good for you? Don’t be ridiculous — he doesn’t deserve you.”
“Remus-” you start to say. 
“No, darling, listen. I know it’s not my place and I’m not trying to meddle, but he’s not right for you. He told you you couldn’t cheer for your own house’s Quidditch when we played Ravenclaw and he’s not even on the team.”
“He just really wanted us to be cheering for the same team.”
“He told you to stay away from us.”
Your face hardens and your lips form a thin line.
“You heard that?”
He nods and says, “Your boyfriend shouldn’t be so insecure in your relationship. He should trust you to be around other people, around your friends. Especially around your friends who you’ve known for years.”
“I know,” you sigh. “But-”
Remus cuts you off again. “No buts, darling. Have you ever given him a reason to doubt your feelings for him?”
“No.”
“You give him all your love and that’s how he responds? You don’t deserve that kind of treatment. We’re not dumb, we know how much you’ve been fighting. If he can’t see how lovely, strong, loyal, smart, perfect you are, how devoted you can be when you care for someone, that’s on him. It’s on him for not trusting you, not seeing how you are more than capable of handling yourself and able to come back to the ones who care for you most.”
You close your eyes. Tears are building and you really don’t want them to fall. You know if you start crying, you won’t be able to stop. Something about Remus being right struck a nerve. You should be enough for your boyfriend. If Remus was able to see all of this in you, why couldn’t he? 
You feel a hand on the side of your face. You open your eyes to Remus crouching in front of you, one hand holding your face and the other placed next to your leg, helping him maintain his balance. 
“I know you said not to meddle, but that’s truly what I think, sweetheart. I think that relationship isn’t worth the arguing. I think it’s run its course.”
You feel the tears beginning to fall as you nod. “I-I, I think so too.”
“Oh, darling,” he coos as he pulled you into a hug.
You let the tears fall more freely as Remus holds you tight to his chest. He doesn’t shush you. He just holds you, softly rubbing your back. You could always be vulnerable with him. He understood in a way that you felt no one else did. He never judged you. He was your safe place. 
“Rem?” you ask, looking up at him.
“Mhmm?”
“Will you be there when I end things?”
“You want me there?”
You nod. “I won’t back down if you’re there.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
---
He was there for you. He was there for you when you broke up with your boyfriend. He was there for you when he tried to convince you that breaking up was a mistake. Remus was there for you when you broke down crying later. He never left your side. And you liked it. You had your own traveling safe place in Remus. 
With each passing day, being without your now-ex was easier. Being with Remus was easy. 
But you weren’t with Remus. The more you considered it, the more you wished you were. He already treated you better than your ex did. He never made you feel like you were too much or not enough. You knew he trusted you more than life itself. You didn’t dare say anything though. What if you ruined the friendship? What if you said something and lost your four best friends in one swoop? 
It really hits you one night, a few weeks after the breakup. Today had been nothing special. Just classes and studying in the library with Remus. But it had felt so special and every time your hands accidentally touched, you swear you felt fireworks. 
I love him. … Does he love me?
Why did you always think about things when you were in bed? Once again, you’re tossing and turning. You groan quietly as you get up. You know you won’t get sleep. 
This time, you do laugh when you see Remus already in the common room, sitting by the fire with a book as usual.
“Do you ever sleep?” you ask with a laugh as you join him on the couch.
You rest your head on his shoulder and look at the pages of his book.
“Usually during History of Magic and from three to seven.”
You giggle and Remus turns his head to look at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. 
“What’s on your mind tonight, sweetheart?”
You don’t respond right away, the worry of ruining a perfectly good friendship festering inside of you. 
“Do you fancy anyone?” you ask quietly.
His eyes go wide and he chuckles awkwardly. He looks away. 
Oh, he so does.
“Erm, yeah. I do…”
There’s a beat of silence. 
“Do you think she’s the one? The right one, I mean.”
“I’d like to think so. Only been in love with her since third year.”
“How do you know?”
“She’s my safe place. More than James, more than Sirius, more than Peter. She’s the loveliest person I know. She’s brilliant. Beautiful. Loyal. Perfect.” He pauses. “She has her flaws but doesn’t everyone? I mean, I got my furry little problem.”
Without thinking, you say, “You’re my safe place.” 
He looks back at you, the softest look in his eyes.
“I am?” he whispers. 
“You are.”
“So we’re each other’s safe place, huh.”
She’s my safe place. 
The realization hits you. Your face heats as you stare into those warm brown eyes. 
“You think I’m beautiful?”
He hums in response. There’s a silent conversation happening between you as you maintain eye contact. You nod. He places his hand underneath your chin and lifts your face. He leans in slowly, giving you time to pull away in case he misunderstood you. You don’t. You lean in too, meeting his lips with your own. The fireworks you felt when your hands accidentally brushed paled in comparison to when he kissed you. The hands were barely a spark and this was a firework show's finale. 
Maybe Remus really was your right person. 
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kooktrash · 6 months ago
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where loyalty lies ➢ kim taehyung TEASER
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summary: when it comes to the bond that ties people together, it can come in many different forms. maybe you were out of luck choosing who you wanted to be with and who you wanted to love but now you’re stuck choosing one of two brothers. between morals, loyalty, and lies, meeting kim taehyung had to be the biggest test you’ve ever taken.
➢ genre/au: boyfriend’s brother!taehyung x reader [she/her. afab] smut. angst.
➢ 1.1k words
warnings: TBD
“You’re too good for him,” Taehyung’s voice caught you by surprise in the pitch black. It was well past midnight at this point and with your tired haze, you didn’t care to turn the light on when you left Taewon’s bedroom looking for a glass of water.
You could barely make out the sound of his approaching steps and it wasn’t until he flickered on the stove light, that you could see more of him clearly. The small light was easier to adjust your eyes to but for some reason, the warmth of the light made the kitchen feel much smaller now that he was in front of you. You blinked speechlessly, watching as he moved around you to reach for the tea kettle that sat on the counter.
Do you respond?
“I think it’s the other way around,” you said awkwardly, stuck between knowing if this was real or not. How did he expect you to respond? He’s your boyfriend’s brother and still a stranger to you.
“Really?” Taehyung asked, filling the kettle with water as if this was just a regular thing, “How so?”
Your eyes met his and for a moment you couldn’t think straight. He was confusing you in ways you can’t understand at this ungodly hour. You were exhausted and now you were being told and asked things by Taehyung that have you in a whirlwind.
“Y/n!”
Taehyung watched as you wordlessly left him, carrying the glass of water right to Taewon’s room where he couldn’t make out a thing of what was being said. He was well aware of the irony of the situation considering this was his younger brother he was talking about. He should appreciate the fact that his reckless brother was so well taken care of by his partner but he couldn’t. He couldn’t help but let his loyalty fall to you instead.
And he just knew you could do better.
“Y/n,” the call of your name was much more gentle falling from Taehyung’s lips than your boyfriend’s and yet you still jumped, startled by the soft knock on the door.
The door was slightly parted and light seeped out into the hall where he stood giving him a chance to look in. Taewon was currently face down in an empty trash bin, completely out of it as you sat at his side, rubbing his back. You looked at him with a hardened expression, “What?”
You should’ve remained seated and ignored him but you found yourself getting up, leaving Taewon behind as you stepped into the hall, closing the door. Taehyung licked his lips nervously, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything earlier. Your relationship with him has nothing to do with me, but…”
“But?” You pushed him to respond, crossing your arms over your chest in a stance. Taehyung stayed silent, looking at you unsure what to say that would make things better but he couldn’t think. All he could think about is stalling your departure back to Taewon’s bedroom, “Are you spending the night?”
“No,” you said with a sigh, checking the time on your phone.
“At this hour? No, stay, or…” Taehyung cleared his throat, “I’ll take you home.”
“It’s alright, I’ll just call a cab,” you told him, turning back to Taewon’s room. Taehyung didn’t say anything as he watched you leave, he couldn’t push too hard, it wasn’t right. He was telling himself he just offered for your sake but in reality he just wants a moment with you.
He’s well aware how wrong it is to harbor any sort of feeling toward you considering you were dating his brother but he can’t help it. It’s like, knowing he can’t have you just makes him want you more. In his defense, he really doesn’t think Taewon deserves someone like you. You’re better than any girl he’s ever been with and he doesn’t prioritize you how Taehyung knows he would. How is it fair that his reckless, immature brother gets someone like you while Taehyung has no one?
Taewon’s bedroom reeked of a mixture of alcohol and spit up that had you wanting to gag when you stepped in. You’re not sure what happened tonight that made him drink past his limit or why he hadn’t bothered telling you at all. You don’t care if he goes out with his friends, he can do whatever he wants but the least he could do is let you know. Instead you’re at home trying to sleep when he calls you up at midnight, drunk out of his mind, and begging you to pick him up. Honestly, it was kind of bullshit because you knew he wouldn’t leave his place in the middle of the night to go take care of you. He wouldn’t have bothered to answer your calls either.
You blamed it on the fact that he was clearly regretting whatever decisions he made, you were annoyed he had no considerations for you. All week you’ve been talking about the project you have to prepare for and yet he still decided to call you the night of and beg you to go get him. Now it’s nearly 2:00am, and not a single Uber was around your area on a Sunday night.
With a defeated sigh, you ran your fingers through your hair trying to push the thought of sleep out of mind while you thought of what to do. You could easily just sleep over but you didn’t have any of your things for tomorrow and you would have to stop home either way. That meant you would still have to wake up earlier, go to your apartment, get ready, and get to work.
Taewon didn’t seem to think about you at all and that you could so easily tell by the way he snored loudly, completely knocked out and sleeping off the alcohol. You didn’t want to sleep next to him right now even if that was your only choice, so you hesitantly got up from his bed, gathered what little you brought with you and left his room.
The apartment had gone back to black once Taehyung was out of the kitchen and even the crack under his door failed to give sign of any light and it had you stopping, debating if you should take him up on his offer. It was better than having to find a cab or worse, walk, but it was still awkward for you.
He wasn’t asleep, he had given up on that a while ago and he had been able to make out the sound of your light footsteps quite easily so when you knocked against his door, he was right there waiting. It was hard to see you in the darkness but your soft scent of lavender told him just how close you stood before him and he’s ashamed at the way his heart quickened.
“Is your offer to take me home still on the table?” You sounded nervous [uncomfortable maybe?] and yet he was sighing in relief. You couldn’t see the soft smile he gave you as he said, “Let me get shoes on.”
::.
soooooo yall won the poll and got the teaser 🙄now I fr gotta finish this soon lol. I swear it’s coming I haven’t written a Taehyung in so long but I’ve been in a Tae mood like crazyyyyy
this will be an infidelity fic !!!! and no oc slander bc I’ll fight u
permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @saweetspoiled @babycandy111 @jeonninja @skzthinker @lilliankoo @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @whoa-jo @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @maryy1300 @annabtsangels @hyunjinswifeee @bangtans-momma @butterymin @kaiparkerwifes @junggukjeonfreakinwife @tridha345 @ily4jknity @ivygguk @ryuzakiswife-blog @futuristicenemychaos @honeybunnykoo @eunhee-jk @aindrila @cherrymoonlightt @parkinglot-nights @llallaaa @crooked-haven @butterflykpop @sakuragongju @ackward-maknae @investedreader @junggukjeonfreakinwife
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bambisworlds · 3 months ago
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the freak and the new girl (1)
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part two, part three
eddie munson is the freak of hawkins high. y/n is the new girl. like eleven, she was taken in by hopper after getting rescued from the lab. y/n has been in bad relationship after bad relationship since attending public school and was starting to give up on finding a healthy, loving relationship until eddie munson changed everything (1,623 word count)
content warnings, mdni 18+
f!reader, hopper!reader, bisexual!reader, telekinetic!reader, no physical reader description, reader grew up in the lab like eleven, reader can sing, slow burn, friends to lovers, fluff fluff fluff, jason carver and billy hargrove are readers exes, reader has a female ex named amelie, this follows the season 2 plot but the party are freshmen instead cause it makes things easier, eleven is in public school for the season 2 plot, let me know if i forgot anything x
my masterlist
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There’s always been some unspoken understanding between Eddie Munson and I. Whenever my ex-boyfriend Jason Carver got into it with Eddie, I came to Eddie’s defense. Sure, it was a soft comment about Jason backing off, but it was something. Eddie would nod his head in acknowledgment or say something like “Thanks sweetheart”. It was mainly to get to Jason but also to show his genuine thanks to me. 
Jason was an ass, I was not. Eddie knew this. That’s why he spent many an hour wondering why the fuck I was dating Jason. The simple answer was Jason was the first boy to show an interest in me at Hawkins High and I was lonely. I was desperate for attention. I didn’t know that Jason was a bad boyfriend per se. I didn’t know what a good boyfriend should behave like. The only other relationship I had was when I was at the lab. That relationship consisted of stolen glances, hidden touches, and love notes slipped under doors. When we were around other people we acted as if we were strangers.
I’d never been in a so-called public relationship like this. The conclusion I came to is that no matter what kind of relationship you’re in your boyfriend ignores you. That’s just how it is. When I was in my, I guess you could call my relationship, with Amelie it was the same thing. Treat me like a lover behind closed doors then like a stranger in public.
With Billy though… that was when I started to get the idea this wasn’t what a relationship should be like. Billy wasn’t ever nice, not even behind closed doors. I wasn’t even sure if he liked me or just the idea of me. He liked to rub it to the other popular kids, especially Jason, that he could date the new girl too.
The first time I experienced what a good boyfriend could be like was with Eddie Munson. The moment was fleeting in the hall in between classes but it shocked me down to my core.
Eddie was walking past me when he suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop, “Woah… you like Motley Crue? You?” he asked me in disbelief, motioning to the Motley Crue t-shirt I was wearing.
“Yeah?” I answered, feeling unsure.
“Jesus, why the hell are you dating Carver? You’re like my dream girl.” he joked before patting my arm and starting back down the hallway like nothing happened. 
Jason and Billy never complimented me.
Eddie told me that I was his dream girl in 1983. Now it’s nearing 1985 and I still think about it. I’m not sure why it took me so long to see Eddie as someone I could date. I think it was all of Hopper’s complaining about Eddie’s parents. He called them low-life wastes of space. I kinda assumed Eddie would be the same way. I was so unbelievably wrong.
I sat alone next to the concession stand in the arcade sipping a Coke. My seat was away from everyone else but I still had a clear view of my sister Eleven, Mike, her boyfriend, Will, Lucas, and Dustin. They were all circled around a machine, yelling and laughing at the same time.
Will’s mom, Joyce, gave me the task of keeping a close eye on Will. His PTSD had been flaring up while we got closer to the anniversary of his disappearance. I’m all too familiar with PTSD so I took this task seriously, but I didn’t want to be the overbearing older sister to Eleven.
“Y/n?” A voice spoke up from beside me. I stopped sipping on my drink, the straw still sitting between my lips.
“Hey, Eddie.” I greeted with a soft smile. He wore his typical leather jacket and D&D jean vest. It made his back look hot. 
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked with a smile, plopping on the bench across from me at the table.
“Babysitting.” I motioned to where Eleven and her pals were standing.
“And you’re just gonna sit there instead of playing games?” he teases.
“I don’t know how to play any.” I shrug. Eddie’s mouth dropped open dramatically and I laughed. “What? I don’t think Jane does either, to be honest.” I say, using El’s legal name instead of her chosen name.
“Get up, get up.” he motions at me as he stands up. I do as he says, “C’mon I’ll show you.” he insists as I throw my half-drunk coke in a trash bin. He walks with some pep in his step as he leads me over to a machine, “Ever play this one?” he motions to the machine in front of us and I shake my head, “You’ve never played Galaga?” he gapes, “Jesus you’ve never lived!” he gasps and I laugh again. No one could ever make me laugh this easily. He ushered me to stand closer to him so he could explain how to play it. I could smell cigarette smoke, the smell clinging to his hair that would probably stick to mine. 
After a good 5 minutes of instruction, he coached me through my first try, cheering me on and giving me advice in my ear. We stood at that machine together for 30 minutes, our laughter radiating around us until a timid voice spoke up behind me.
“Y/n? It’s 8:45. We should probably head home.” Will says and I finally separate myself from the Galaga machine. “Hey, Eddie.” Will greeted his fellow Hellfire Club member.
“Byers.” Eddie nodded his head in greeting, “Well, this was fun Hopper. We should do it again sometime.” Eddie smiles and I nod.
“It was. Now when I beat Dustin’s ass I’ll have you to thank.” I tell Eddie goodnight, leading Will, Mike and Eleven out to my car.
“Since when are you and Eddie friends?” Mike asks me, sitting beside El in the backseat as I drive to his house.
“Since today I guess.” I shrug, “We’re not not friends. We say hi and stuff to each other in the hall.” 
“Well, Eddie’s cool. A lot cooler than the jerks you used to hang out with.” Will says, alluding to Jason and the nauseating popular kids that he would hang out with, therefore I hung out with.
“Yeah.” I agree softly. After dropping off Mike, then Will and listening while Joyce thanked me profusely, I headed to Hop’s cabin.
“Is Eddie your boyfriend?” El asks, looking out the car window as we drive.
“No.” I chuckle, “Although that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”
“Eddie’s nice,” El notes as we pull into the driveway. I twirled my keys in my hand and unlocked the door from the inside out with my mind. 
“We’re home,” I announce, Hopper coming out of the bathroom, clearly fresh out of the shower.
“Have fun?” he asks and I nod.
“Y/n was with a boy,” El tells him as if it was the most casual thing in the world.
“Another one? Give your old man a break.” he sighs dramatically, sitting down in the recliner.
“I wasn’t with him. He was there and so was I so he showed me how to play one of the games.” I insist, heading towards my room.
“Who was he?” Hopper asks, stopping me in my tracks.
“Eddie Munson,” I answered nervously.
“Munson? That kid’s a dipshit.” Hop answers without missing a beat.
“Dad, have you even met him?” I ask. Silence. “Exactly,” I argued, heading into my room.
The next day at school, for the first time ever, Eddie sat beside me in class. That same day he invited me to sit with him and the Hellfire Club at lunch. I hesitated but with El's encouragement, I did.
At some point, the group got to the topic of Will’s drawing abilities and for some reason, he threw me under the bus, “Y/n can sing.” 
Eddie’s head whipped towards me so quickly I was scared his neck would break, “You sing?”
“Kind of.”
“She is really good.” El insists, nodding at me encouragingly.
“Don’t you write music and stuff?” Mike asks from beside El, “I’ve seen your guitar and sheet music in the dining room like a billion times.”
“You play the guitar?” Eddie’s eyes widened even more if that was possible.
“Yeah,” I confirm with a soft smile.
Eddie grabs his chest dramatically, “God you really are my dream girl.” he sighs. 
The time he said that to me in the hall last school year came to mind. I smiled.
“Show him your songs.” El encourages, motioning to the journal next to my food tray.
“Are you telling me that journal right there that you’re always writing in is filled with songs that came out of that pretty little head?” Eddie asks me and I nod. “Can I read some? Pretty please.” he sticks his bottom lip out and gives me puppy dog eyes.
“If I let you, you have to promise to not read any others. They’re personal.” I tell him, giving him the most ‘no bullshit’ face I could muster.
“Okay, okay,” he mutters, holding his hands up in defense. I bite my lip nervously, flipping through the pages.
“That one.” Eleven stops my flipping, pointing at one of the pages. I let out a breath and handed it to Eddie.
“Dark…” he notes as he continues to read. I tap my leg nervously, “I love it.” he smiles widely before closing the journal and handing it back to me.
“Thanks.” I smile. 
“Anytime you wanna show off your writing skills to someone I’m here,” he says with a wink and I unwillingly blush.
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if you have any requests including the people on my masterlist please comment them below any of my posts or in my submissions!! (check here: about my blog  to see what things i'm not comfortable with in regards to requests <3)
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littlemissclandestine · 24 days ago
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Soft!Adler Headcanons: (Girl)Dad! Edition Part 2
⭐ A continuation of this post
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He'd try his best to be there for any award ceremonies at school, sneaking in at the back just in time to see his daughter on stage. As soon as she makes eye contact, he'll give her a thumbs up and a wink, mouthing 'I love you'
I wanna say he'd be that dad who stands up and claps loudly, telling everyone that that's his daughter on stage. He's so supportive bless.
Oh and photos where he stands behind her and has his hands on her shoulders and smiles for the camera. Yup, quite a few of those stashed away.
When she'd have a presentation to give on her biggest inspiration and/or hero in her life, it would be about her dad. It would end up in tears for her as he'd be away...or would he? Adler would come in, standing off to the side, watching her recite from a piece of paper saying how much she looks up to her father, how she misses him etc. It almost brings a tear to his own eyes. Everyone's heads would turn and his daughter would run up to him, Russell scooping her up and hugging her. Missed you my lil spaghetti
During downtime, his priority would always be his daughter. No ifs and no buts. Even if he hated the idea she proposed.
One of those was testing makeup. Russell would always straight up say no, asking her to call her mother for that but when he saw how upset it made her, he'd sigh and grumpily sit down in a chair by her dresser and let her do whatever she wanted. -> "Jesus, kid, watch it, you always this rough with your friends too?" He'd ask with a chuckle as she blends the foundation. He could sit there all day and listen to her explain how to use each product and proceed to yap about whatever crosses her mind
When she'd put on eyeliner and apply it to his waterline, he was genuinely scared -> "Don't poke my eyes out, the only thing I got going for me. God, can't believe I'm letting you do this, missy." He'd pinch her side and tickle her.
As soon as he's allowed to look in the mirror, he does a double take, wondering how the hell he looks like such a diva but he downplays it. -> "Good job, kid...good job indeed."
When she hurts herself, he can't help but kneel down and help her. He knows he should stop and that she needs to develop her independence but it's hard for him. -> "Got a boo boo, sweetheart? Let me see. Aww on the knee, huh? Come here, let's get you cleaned up and get a plaster on it, yeah? Shhhh you're okay."
Baking with his daughter? YES. They'd make a mess of the kitchen for sure, not really tidying up as they go. Every time his daughter would come to him with a new recipe, he's out the front door with her in an instant, ticking off their checklist of ingredients in the store and thinking of ways he could add their twist on it
Her drawings would be on display with personalised fridge magnets that spell her name etc
There's a wall or archway where he measures her height every year and marks it on with pencil. -> "Heh, you've had a hell of a growth spurt, sweetheart. Would you look at that."
If his daughter was a trouble maker, he'd be that parent that would refuse to see what was wrong. It was self defense as far as he's concerned. He doesn't really need to do much of the talking. He's genuinely surprised seeing her stand up for herself, the corner of his mouth curving into a smile as he watches her rant to the principal. Did he teach her that? To not play by the rules? Guess he's rubbing off on her. A little worrying but eh -> "Put that in your pipe and smoke it." High fives as soon as they get back into the car after the meeting with the principal is over is a given.
If there's something you should know about Russell Adler, it's that he loves being spontaneous. One day, he might take his daughter out fishing, teaching her the ropes, the next they're at a painting class together, his daughter being impressed by his hidden talent or cycling in the summer during the sunset, Russell asking her what her goals are in life and telling her how proud he is of her and that he wishes he could be around more. Bonding time is so important to him.
There are certainly times where he struggles. Apart from the emotional side of things and his job getting in the way i mean. Possibly control. Like we know he has strong leadership skills he's developed over his career. I'd like to think that seeps into his parenting a little too much. He tends to ramble and tell his daughter how to do something and talking her through it, hovering over her even though she knows already and has been doing said thing for years.
Maybe it's just a part of him wanting to feel useful and needed. Still wanting her to rely on him even in her 20s or 30s, partly in denial that she's not that young girl who'd sit on his lap anymore. It really hits him when he's walking her down the aisle.
And maybe he'd be over-critical of himself as a parent and her as a daughter, especially since he sees the cost of mistakes in the world of espionage and the military
The only people that have seen his daughter from work are Sims, Woods and Mason and maybe Park but it isn't a regular thing, wanting to keep her as far away from the CIA as possible. Park had a shock when she saw him like that for the first time. -> "Never thought i'd see the day, Adler. You, a family man? Rather ghastly I must say but you do look happy."
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xomakara · 5 months ago
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The Man Next Door
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(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)
SUMMARY | San is your brother’s friend and your next door neighbor. Despite the constant bickering, you can’t deny the attraction between you both.
PAIRING | San/Reader
GENRE | non-idol!San, smut with no plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, vaginal sex
RATING | Mature
LENGTH | 4602 words
AUTHOR’S NOTE | Hi and hello. Enjoy~
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"Can you stop that infernal noise?!" You pounded on your neighbor's door as you heard the sound of power tools once again. The banging went on and on. "Damn it, I've asked you a dozen times to turn down your shi..."
The door burst open, your angry glare landing on a grinning face. "You know, Y/N, I don't say shit about the noises you make when you're working on your remo..."
You cut him off before he could finish. "I want it quiet! And I mean really quiet!"
"Well, damn." He crossed his arms in front of himself and leaned against the doorframe, obviously amused. "And here I thought you were going to storm into my place and grab my tools."
You let out a groan and ran a hand through your hair. "You're so annoying San. If I wasn't so pissed off at that loud ass thing over there I would kick your fucking ass."
He burst out laughing. "See? You like me after all. What if I said no?"
"Can we not?" You let out a sigh. "Please, can I have some quiet?"
"Why? You have a guy over or something?" He raised an eyebrow, knowing you didn't get a date often enough for anything like that to be true.
"What's it to you, huh? Jealous?" Your mouth twitched up slightly as you tried to hold back a smile.
"Hell no, I'm just curious, is all." He held up his hands defensively. "So who is he? Your boyfriend?"
"Fuck off, San." You rolled your eyes. "But if you wanted to know, my parents are visiting me and I would appreciate it if you kept the noise to a minimum. Once my parents leave, then we can start our bickering like usual."
"Is that a promise?" His eyes glinted mischievously.
"Fine."
He gave you one last leer before turning around and closing the door behind him. You made your way back to your condo next door, your parents curiously giving you looks from the living room where they sat watching TV.
"Is everything alright with your neighbors?" Your mom inquired as she took a sip of her tea.
"Sorry about that. San is remodeling his place right now." You replied, your cheeks growing hot as your dad snorted softly.
"How romantic." Your mother commented wryly.
"Mom, please." You rolled your eyes and waved your hands at them. "He's like the most irritating person ever and-"
"You're still arguing with him, Y/N?" Your brother walked out of the bathroom. Seonghwa gave you a strange look before taking a seat next to your mom.
"Seonghwa, I swear I am going to kill that man." You mumbled angrily as you rubbed the bridge of your nose. "Of all people, how did your friend end up being my neighbor?"
"It's destiny." Your brother replied cheerfully, causing both of your parents to laugh. "It was meant to be. You two should go out together. There's nothing wrong with trying."
"Mom! Tell Seonghwa to stop it." You glared at your mother.
She giggled as she continued talking to Seonghwa. "Yes, love. Your sister and San should get together. How many times has he looked at her?"
"A lot." Seonghwa smiled as he watched your face grow redder.
You groaned as you got out of your chair and headed towards the kitchen. "I hate my life sometimes."
"Oh come on. If you hate the thought of going out with San, then why don't you just find an actual boyfriend?" Seonghwa pulled you back by the waistband of your pants. Your mouth fell open as your gaze landed on your brother. He gave you a smirk as he started pulling you back towards the couch. "I think Yeosang is single..."
You turned to your parents. "Mom, Dad. Please tell your precious son to stop hooking me up with his friends. It's getting old and I swear I will hit him if he tries this again."
Your parents chuckled as they shook their heads at you. They knew that your brother was just doing it because he loved you. He didn't care if you ended up liking them or not. All he cared about was that you found someone special to spend time with and make memories with.
They weren't stupid though. After all, you hadn't dated anyone seriously since breaking up with your first serious boyfriend. If he wanted you to settle down soon, then it only made sense that he'd try to set you up with a good looking guy with good family values. One that wouldn't cheat on you or be too needy. That's what your brother had always told you.
San.
Despite him irritating you to no end, he was a good guy. A kind-hearted person that would never intentionally hurt another person. You knew that because even when he was teasing you mercilessly, you couldn't help but see the soft side of him. It was impossible not to, especially when he was being sweet. And sure, you couldn't deny being insanely attracted to him either. His voice, those ridiculously perfect lips, his gorgeous eyes... Everything about him screamed sexy, and the way he treated you when you were alone with him made you weak in the knees.
"Y/N? Are you okay?" Seonghwa placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.
"Yeah. Just give me a second." You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Opening your eyes again, you looked up at your brother. "Do you think it's a bad idea to ask him out?"
"Oh? Do you perhaps like San?" He raised an eyebrow, and then started to laugh as he saw the look of horror cross your face. "Kidding, Y/N! Of course you do. I don't think he'll mind the fact that you've been crushing on him since high school."
"I have not been crushing on him since high school!" You exclaimed defensively.
"Uh huh. Tell yourself that. Because I'm pretty sure he noticed." Seonghwa chuckled. "Do you have dreams about him too?"
"Stop it." You groaned.
"No really. I won't stop until you admit it." Seonghwa smirked.
"I'm going to punch you in the face when Mom and Dad aren't around." You grumbled, glaring at your brother.
"So...?" He grinned mischievously. "What are you going to do?"
You groaned as you got out of the couch. "Mom, Dad. Don't stop me when I throttle my own brother. Seriously."
They laughed as you stalked towards the door. Grabbing your phone off the counter, you slammed the door behind you and headed towards San's place next door. San was outside washing his car when you walked out. His head shot up when he saw you standing there, and you immediately felt your face heat up. God, it was hard not to blush every time he caught your eye. As much as you hated admitting it, San was incredibly attractive. But even more than his appearance, it was his personality that got you. His humor, his kindness, and the way he teased you constantly...
God, you wished you were less awkward around him. You spent so much time daydreaming about what it would be like to kiss him and spend the night in bed with him, that it had become difficult to function normally around him, hence the bickering with him over the years.
"You okay there, Y/N?" He spoke softly as he came closer to you.
You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. "It's nothing. Just Seonghwa being annoying as always."
"Ah, Seonghwa." San let out a laugh. "Trying to matchmake yet again?"
"Shut up." You muttered under your breath.
His smile grew wider as he moved in front of you. "Who was it this time? Jongho? Mingi?"
You shook your head. "Yeosang."
"Really?" He raised an eyebrow, surprised.
"Really, really." You sighed. "I told Seonghwa that I'll beat him up the next time he tries to butt into my love life. So that means I owe him a beating."
San cocked his head to the side as he studied you. "Hmm... A chance to hit Seonghwa for you. That does sound fun."
"Feel free to beat him up. He is your friend after all." You shrugged and shook your head. "Anyway, I came here for something else. Seonghwa won't leave me alone unless I ask you this...Do you...Uhm...Think it's a bad idea to ask you out?"
His smile grew bigger as he pulled you close to him. "Oh my god, I can't believe I have to hear you asking me this question already. We've been friends for years, what makes you think it's a bad idea?"
You frowned and bit your lip. "I just feel like it might cause problems between us... Ugh." You huffed and looked away from him. "Nevermind. Forget I asked."
"It's fine. Really." He placed a gentle finger under your chin and gently tilted your head upwards. "It's perfectly normal to want to ask a friend out. And I know you like to look at me when you think no one's around. Even if you pretend you don't, I know you do."
"I swear one of these days I'm going to beat you up instead of Seonghwa." You mumbled as you stared into his eyes.
He let out a laugh. "Are you going to start fighting everyone you meet now? It's cute. Kinda."
You blushed slightly and quickly looked away. "Stop flirting with me. You're making me lose focus."
"I wouldn't dream of it." He winked at you before releasing your chin and stepping away.
You crossed your arms and glared at him. "So... Will you go out with me?"
"Maybe." He smiled cheekily.
Your jaw dropped and you widen your eyes. Was that a yes? "W-what?!"
"Shh. Be patient." He winked at you. "Just wait for my answer."
"But-"
"One. More. Minute." He smiled. "And then you can say whatever you want."
"Seriously, you guys need to just make out already." An annoyed voice called from inside the house. "You two drive me crazy sometimes."
"Oh, dear God." You mumbled under your breath. "Seonghwa is coming out now."
"Hello, loverboy." Seonghwa laughed as he walked out of your condo. He patted San on the back. "I take it that my crazy, violent sister asked you out?"
"Yeah. She kinda did." San chuckled, reaching for your hand and intertwining your fingers with his.
"Well, I suppose it's better late than never." Seonghwa smirked. "Still though, it's about time you guys went out."
You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face. Seonghwa wasn't exactly wrong. In fact, he was right. You had gone out with your friends and tried dating other people without success. But honestly, there was something missing in those relationships. Something that you felt only with San. Sure, he was a huge flirt, and he was usually joking around whenever he saw you. But it was more than that. You could always tell how genuinely happy he was to see you. How excited he was when he saw you smile. And his caring nature... He put you first in everything. Always putting you before himself. He always wanted to make sure you were safe and taken care of, before thinking of his own needs.
The fact that he was super hot didn't hurt either.
You squeezed San's fingers tightly, wanting to convey to him how much you cared about him. You also wanted to show him how happy you were that he agreed to go out with you. For some reason, you felt nervous that he might say no, despite the fact that you both knew you wanted each other. You knew he liked you. Hell, you liked him too. He was the only person who seemed to understand you, who knew how to push your buttons and get under your skin.
"Y/N, why are you squeezing my hand so tight?" San laughed.
"I'm not." You mumbled, slowly letting go of his hand.
Seonghwa burst out laughing. "Sure you are."
"Ha ha." You smirked. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with this very handsome man." You turned to San and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
"I'm going to show you how to properly kiss later." San laughed, his arms snaking around your waist.
You grinned and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Can't wait."
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It was a Saturday afternoon and you were relaxing on the couch while watching a movie with San. You had to admit that you felt a bit nervous being wrapped in his arms, but you couldn't deny the butterflies flying around in your stomach every time he touched you.
"Are you feeling alright?" San asked you softly. You hummed in response and looked away. "Is there anything wrong?"
"Do you really want to know?" You rolled your eyes playfully. "It's like I've lost my mind or something."
"Losing your mind doesn't mean that you've lost your ability to speak." He lightly poked you in the nose.
"And yet you still manage to insult me, Choi San." You snorted. "Fine. I'm just freaking out."
"Why?" He asked, concerned.
"Because..." You sighed and ran your hands through your hair. "There are so many things I'd like to do with you...Things I've fantasized about doing since high school."
"Oh? What kind of things?" He smirked.
You bit your lip nervously. "Like...kissing you senseless. And sleeping in your arms all night. And waking up next to you... You get the picture."
He leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours. "Okay, okay. I'll make all of those things come true."
Your heart started racing as he pulled back and held your gaze. For a second, you thought he was going to kiss you, but he quickly moved away, giving you a smile instead. You couldn't help but frown a bit. Ever since you agreed to go with San, he had yet to really kiss you and you weren't sure why. Sure you, kissed. A peck here and there but it wasn't nearly enough. You longed for the moment when he finally did kiss you, fully and passionately. But so far, he had refrained from even trying. Maybe you were expecting too much. Perhaps you should just go with the flow. Let things happen naturally.
Right?
Later that night, you found yourself in bed, staring at the ceiling.
This is stupid. I should stop thinking about him and just sleep.
You scolded yourself. You've been doing it for years and nothing bad happened, so what's stopping you now?
Sleep. You need to sleep.
Closing your eyes, you tried to ignore the fact that San's face kept flashing before your eyes. You attempted to block out the memory of his soft lips touching yours, your hands running through his silky hair and the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch.
Focus. Sleep.
Nope.
You sat up in bed and grabbed your phone from your nightstand.
If I can't fall asleep, I may as well text him and try to talk to him. At least it will occupy my mind for a while. Right?
It only took you a couple of minutes to compose a message to San. You closed your phone and tossed it onto the bed next to you. Not two minutes later, your phone vibrated and you jumped at the unexpected sound. Picking up your phone, you read San's reply.
San: What did you want to talk about? Can't sleep? I'll hold your hand until you doze off.
A goofy grin spread across your face as you read his reply. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his name and it was difficult to suppress the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Before you realized it, you were typing another message to him:
You: Hard to sleep when all I could think about is kissing you senseless. Tried to count sheep. Didn't work.
Minutes passed and you got a notification telling you that San replied. You hurriedly unlocked your phone and opened his message.
San: What else were you thinking about? Want to share them with me?
You reread his message and a wide smile appeared on your face. It only took you seconds to type it out.
You: Weird thoughts of you.
San's reply came almost instantly. Your cheeks flushed red as you stared at the screen.
San: What kind of thoughts? Sexy ones?
Before you knew it, you typed out another message.
You: Want to know what they were about?
San immediately replied. His response made you blush again. Your breathing picked up as you stared at your phone, waiting for his response.
San: Give me details. Now.
Slowly moving your thumbs, you typed out your reply.
You: Thoughts of your fingers running down my body. Fingers that would eventually find their way inside me.
A few minutes passed before you received a reply. You peeked at your phone anxiously, wondering if he was done responding. When the message alert popped up, you couldn't hide your surprise.
San: And in these thoughts of yours, did you like my fingers? Because I would love to use them...All over you.
Wow. Just wow. That sent chills down your spine and it took everything you had to remain focused on the topic at hand. Thinking about how good his fingers felt made you imagine how it would feel to be underneath him, feeling his strong arms wrap around you as he pinned you down. Oh god, you couldn't stop thinking about it. In fact, the thought alone sent shivers down your spine. You barely noticed when San responded again.
San: Yes. You liked them. More than you ever imagined possible. I'd like to make those thoughts become reality. One day. Soon. Please?
You bit your lip, before responding.
You: Kiss me first and then I'll let you do whatever you want.
San replied a minute later.
San: Whatever I want?
And you proceeded to write the next part.
You: Whatever you want. From the way you touch me to the way you taste me.
Several moments passed and San's reply came through. Your eyes widened as you read his words.
San: Why don't we make our fantasies come true? Tonight. Come over here. Now.
Letting out a small laugh, you pushed yourself up and headed towards his place. It took you but seconds to reach his condo, but you didn't waste any time once you arrived. You knocked on the door loudly, anxious to see him. A moment later, he opened the door and you felt your heart rate pick up. Without saying a word, you flung yourself into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing your body firmly against his. He returned the hug fiercely and placed his hands gently on your hips, deepening the kiss.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours. You pulled away and looked into his eyes. The intense look in his eyes was making you feel slightly dizzy and nervous.
"Is this okay?" You whispered softly.
He brushed your lips with a thumb. "Never knew that you wanted me this bad."
You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck. "I do. I've wanted you forever."
His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he kissed you again. You moaned in pleasure as he deepened the kiss. After several minutes, he pulled away from you and smiled. "Come in."
With one last lingering kiss, you reluctantly pulled away and entered his home. After closing the door and taking your shoes off, San pushed you gently against the wall, holding you firmly by the hips. His mouth hovered above yours as he watched you, trying to take in every little detail. Finally, he lowered his head and planted another soft kiss on your lips.
The kiss was brief, but it left you panting. You brought your hands up and pressed them against his chest, enjoying the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat. Slowly moving your hands up his back and around his neck, you pulled him closer to you.
"I want to do a lot more than just kiss tonight, Y/N." San said huskily.
"Yes." You whispered back. "I want to do more than just kiss too."
San's lips left yours and trailed down your jawline, leaving wet kisses along the way. Finally, he stopped at the base of your throat and slowly nipped your skin, causing you to moan softly. Leaning in, he kissed the spot where he bit you and you whimpered. "Don't make me wait anymore, Y/N."
You reached up and grabbed his shoulders, keeping him in place as he continued to tease you. Slowly licking up your neck, he lingered on your pulse point and teased you with feather light kisses. "San... Please..."
As if reading your mind, he gripped your chin tightly and lifted your head. His eyes met yours and you saw desire blazing behind them. Gently brushing his lips against yours, he lifted you up and carried you to the bedroom, leaving a trail of kisses behind him. Once in the bedroom, he kicked the door shut and began undressing you as soon as he set you down on the bed. Your shirt flew across the room and landed somewhere on the floor, followed by your shorts, bra and panties. His lips pressed against your skin, eliciting soft gasps of pleasure from you. You squirmed under his touch, desperately wanting more.
Suddenly, San pulled away and his hands grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it up. His eyes remained fixed on yours as he revealed his bare chest. With one swift motion, he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it aside. You could feel your breath catch in your throat as you gazed at his muscular torso. You reached out and caressed his abs lightly, enjoying the soft feel of his skin beneath your fingertips. You pulled at the waistband of his sweats and soon had them off of him, tossing them to the side.
You didn't have to ask twice; San immediately rolled over on top of you and pressed his lips against yours. He pinned your wrists above your head, covering your body with his own as he kissed you passionately. Moans escaped from your lips as his tongue slid past your lips, plunging into your mouth. After a few moments, he pulled away and stared at you with hooded eyes.
"Do you want me, Y/N?"
"Yes." You whispered softly.
"Tell me how badly you want me."
"Very badly."
San leaned forward and sucked on your bottom lip, gently biting it before letting it go. "Good girl." He said, kissing you again.
Again, his lips left yours and moved down your jawline, leaving wet kisses on the way. He trailed his kisses lower, stopping at the hollow of your throat. His hot breath fanned across your skin as he licked your skin. His fingers suddenly clasped your breasts, squeezing them roughly. Your nipples hardened under his touch and a low moan escaped your lips. You arched your back, pushing your breasts further into his hands, craving more.
San's hands dropped from your breasts and trailed down your sides, coming to rest on your hips. One hand trailed slowly down your thigh and pressed against your pussy, making you gasp. "You're wet, Y/N." He said in a husky voice. "You're so wet for me."
Unable to form coherent sentences, you simply nodded your head.
"Touch yourself." He commanded. Sitting up, you placed your palms on your thighs and used them to spread your legs wider. You glanced up at San and found him staring at you with lust filled eyes. "Touch yourself, baby."
With shaky hands, you tentatively touched yourself, moaning softly as you ran your fingers along your clit. You gasped at the sudden rush of pleasure that coursed through your body as you began to finger yourself. The pleasurable tingling quickly turned into a throbbing ache between your legs. When you felt the telltale sign of your orgasm approaching, you slipped two fingers inside yourself, stretching your pussy wider.
"Fuck, baby." San let out a moan as he watched you pleasure yourself. "Tell me how you're feeling."
"So fucking close." You managed to say. "Please, San... I need you inside me."
"I'm not gonna make you wait much longer." San groaned. His gaze softened as he gave you a slow smile. "But for now... Let me watch you finish yourself off."
Normally when you touched yourself, it never felt like this. But the combination of watching San's eyes glaze over with desire and having him watch you touch yourself, intensified the pleasure tenfold. The pulsating ache became even stronger and before long, you felt yourself begin to tense up.
"San...I can't hold back..." You moaned, pulling your hand away from your wet pussy. You felt a burst of heat rush through your body as your orgasm ripped through your body, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body. The force of your climax caused your knees to buckle and San instantly rolled over, supporting you with his arms. His gaze fell upon your flushed face, a content grin plastered on his face.
"That was beautiful, baby." San said, kissing your forehead. "God, I've been waiting all night to hear you call out my name."
"San, I need you now." You pleaded softly. "Please."
"Yeah, baby." He breathed heavily. "I know."
In an instant, he sunk into you, filling you completely. As soon as he did, your eyes fluttered closed and you held onto him tightly. The overwhelming sensation of him finally being inside you sent tremors of ecstasy coursing through your body. You cried out as he slowly thrust himself into you, setting a steady pace. Each movement was a reminder of how perfect this man was for you and how lucky you were to have him.
"Fuck, San..." You let out a moan.
He gently stroked your hair as you clung to him, murmuring loving words in your ear. Together, you rode the waves of pleasure as your bodies intertwined. Your hands grasped onto his back, relishing in the gentle contact of his skin. Every touch made your heart race faster and soon you were reaching the peak again. You moaned his name as your orgasm crashed over you, causing you to squeeze him tighter. As you neared your release, you felt San begin to shudder beneath you. You opened your eyes to find his gaze locked on yours.
Slowly, he buried his face into your neck and let out a loud groan. "Y/N... Fuck... Baby... I'm gonna cum."
You tighten your grip around him, urging him on as he poured everything he had into you. For a moment, nothing else existed but you and him as your bodies clung together, relishing in the blissful afterglow. After several moments, you released his back and lay there in silence, trying to catch your breath. As your breathing slowed, you felt San's weight shift slightly, rolling over onto his side. With a smile on your face, you turned your head and nestled into his warm embrace. He pulled you closer to him and placed a soft kiss on your temple.
After several moments, he spoke softly in your ear. "Did all your thoughts and fantasies come true, Y/N?"
You laughed quietly. "Every single one."
He grinned and kissed your cheek. "Mine too."
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ametrictonofaudacity · 1 year ago
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Gaps 5
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Yandere! Platonic! Batfam x Mentally il/Forgetful Reader
Warnings: exploitation of mental illness, depression and self-neglect, forcing the use of medication, manipulation,arguing, implied threats of violence against an animal (DW MOMO IS IN NO DANGER), and captivity and general yandere themes.
Despite what you thought, they don’t hound you twenty-four seven. They are not constantly at your side, are not as close as they normally are. Dick comes around, because it’s Dick and you were normally attached to the hip. Or you had been. Things were different now.
And of course the peace wouldn’t last. Of course the Wayne’s wouldn’t be content to allow you some much needed time to adjust, of course things went wrong. When there’s a quiet knock at the door of your room, you’d stiffened, Momo in your arms.
Tim pushes the door open. It was always Tim, or Damian, or Jason. Dick didn’t really come to see you in the mornings. Not after you’d refused to even touch the food he’s laid out, not after you had ignored his existence the entire time he’d been in your room. As far as you were concerned, Dick was to blame for all of this. He’d had the initial idea to kidnap you, he’d introduced you to his family, he’d been the one to cause your pain.
You shift, fingers clenching your blanket tightly, letting Momo slip out of your arms. She prances up to Tim, rubbing her face against his pant leg, and it makes your heart race in your chest. None of the Wayne’s had hurt her, sure, but she was so little and friendly that it worried you that they would. Tim, thankfully, barely even acknowledges her. He gently nudged her out of the way with his foot, setting down the tray he had been carrying on the bedside table.
“Alfred mentioned that you hadn’t touched your plate. Is the new medication interfering with your appetite?” He asks, and you swallow. You really didn’t want to have your meds changed again. They had just put you back on the prazosin for fucks sake, and you would prefer if you didn’t go back to those stupid drugs.
“Did Alfred mention it or were you just stalking me again?” You mutter, drawing your knees up to your chest. Tim frowns.
“It’s not my fault you keep trying to do something stupid!” He snaps, and it’s defensive. Angry. Maybe it’s because he knows he shouldn’t be doing this. Maybe it’s because he knows he’s in the wrong.
“You barely take care of yourself, (Y/N).” He starts, and he angrily sorts your meds as he does so, fingers flicking through the pills to lay them out. You noticed he did that. Compulsively sorted or organized thing when he was thinking, lips pulled into an angry frown.He continues, ruthless.
“We’ve tried doing it your way. We gave you space, like you asked, and you haven’t eaten. You barely interact with anyone, you haven’t brushed your hair since after dinner three nights ago, and not only that, you’ve barely gotten out of bed. You only get up if one of us make you or if it’s to feed Momo or use the restroom.”
His voice starts to rise in anger, getting loudly and louder as he yells in your face.
Your ears ring. You can’t tell the cotton in your mouth is from disassociation, anger, or sheer, unadulterated indignation. How dare he.
“And who’s fault is that?!” You snarl, pushing yourself up. Tim wouldn’t hit you, you knew. He argued with you, and he was clingy as fuck during the rare occasions you let him touch you or got caught off guard enough to not protest when he initiated it, but never did he hit you.
“You all- I can’t even leave the HOUSE! I can’t do anything without a fucking escort! You watch me through the fuckin cameras, you creeper, don’t think I haven’t heard Jason fucking teasing you for it! You all might not be at my hip all the time, but I’m not stupid enough to let myself even THINK for a second that you aren’t aware of everything in my life!”
You scream.
“You’re so fucking convinced that I am incompetent and stupid, you’re so fucking convinced I can’t take care of myself, that you ruined my life for it! That- I can’t even leave the house, I can’t do anything by myself, don’t think I didn’t notice how literally anytime I walk past the kitchen, someone’s always watching me, this isn’t fucking fair or right, and fuck you for doing it!”
You snarl, and Tim just… stands there. Takes it. He doesn’t argue, which you expect, but he doesn’t apologize, either. You hate that you used to trust him. You hate that you used to look up to him, admiring his wits and intelligence when he had been using those very same attributes to rip apart your life so he and his family of snakes could pick up the pieces and put them back together again.
“I trusted you and all you did was throw my trust in my fucking face!” You snarl. “I told you, how I struggled to remember things! How I felt like I was going insane because my stuff kept vanishing! You offered- you offered to help me search my apartment! Was that just- just another opportunity to stalk me?! To manipulate me?”
Your voice cracks. You weren’t even screaming anymore, no matter how much the anger burns.
“You were right to trust us.” Tim finally says. “I know you don’t like it, I really do, and that it’s not fair, but we’re doing this to help you. You-“
He sighs, running his hand through his hair.
“You haven’t eaten. Haven’t brushed your hair, or your teeth. You’re lethargic. You fight us every step of the way on taking your meds. What if we weren’t around taking care of you? What if-“
He wrings his hands slightly, and you feel a trickle of doubt seep in. He seems to genuinely believe what he was saying. That you needed him, needed them, to keep yourself alive. To keep yourself sane. You don’t know if it’s delusion or paranoia or some other, crippling thing, but it makes your stomach twist with guilt and what might be sorrow.
“Tim.” You cut in, grabbing his hands in your own. His eyes widen, and you worry your grip is too tight from your anger and your desperation to be heard, so you loosen it, slightly. He tightens his grip.
“Tim, I took care of myself for years. And I-“ You swallow, there’s this faint pressure in your eyes that might be the beginnings of tears, but it was something. “- I get I didn’t always do the best job, okay? I get that. But you need to just- you need to trust me. Please.”
You plead, and his face softens, cracks. The anger drains and you feel guilt. What you’re doing, it feels like manipulation even though you know it’s not, and you wonder how the Wayne’s have gotten you so twisted up into knots that even asking for your autonomy as an adult and a person felt like some forbidden thing. You hadn’t even been with them that long. Certainly not long enough for Stockholm Syndrome to occur, and the conditions for Stockholm weren’t even really being met, you were pretty sure.
“I do trust you.” He insists. “We all trust you. But- you need help. Help that you won’t get for yourself and won’t let others get for you. Can’t you just trust us back?” He asks like it’s simple. Like you would want to trust the people who hurt you so totally, so completely, you thought you would never recover. The Wayne’s had been the few people in your life you had sought out, the few people who had been a part of your life, who hadn’t minded your quirks and oddities. They had fit into your life so seamlessly you had nearly forgotten a time they weren’t there, and it had scared you, so you’d pushed them away.
You should have pushed them away sooner.
Your hands go lax, and you slide them from Tim’s grip. There’s a moment where he seems reluctant to let go, before he releases his grip, and you place your hands in your lap.
You were already tired of arguing. The righteous anger had burnt itself out in the face of how sincere he was being.
“Why don’t we get you ready for the day and you’ll feel better?” Tim offers suddenly, like you hadn’t just nearly broken down in front him about being treated as incapable, being treated like a child.
You hold out your hand. He places the pills in them, and you glance down. You consider throwing them across the room again, but last time you had, you had simply gotten the same medication forced down your throat. You take the pills with a grimace, and Tim passes you a glass of water. This, you also resist throwing.
You eat mechanically, the food tasting like ash in your mouth even though you know it probably tasted delicious. Alfred’s cooking always did. When you’re done, you set the plate to the side, and Tim takes it.
“Why don’t you get dressed, yeah?” He asks softly, like you have a choice, and you narrow your eyes at him, silently communicating you wanted him out of the room. He doesn’t budge.
“Hey, Tim, where’s the-“ You jump slightly when Duke pokes his head in the empty doorframe, surprised.
“Oh! Hey, you’re up! Tim said you were having trouble with your hair, yeah? Want some help?” He lifts the comb and strangling brush, a myriad of other things in his arms.
You pause, considering. Part of it was spite, part of it was the fact Duke was asking, and not telling, but you nod, and he beams. He looks absolutely delighted, and he steps into the room after a moment.
“Awesome! Grab a pillow to sit on and let’s get started, yeah?” He beams, setting down his supplies on your bedside table. He doesn’t mention your meds, or the food, or anything else. It’s refreshing.
“Sure.”
Momo hops into your lap, the little opportunist, and you stroke her fur softly as Duke gets everything situated. Tim looks horribly jealous, and the thought makes you a little smug. It didn’t even feel all that petty, given how he had just been practically demanding you listen to him, and Duke had come in, offering you help but not demanding you take it.
Duke’s hands are gentle as he does your hair, carefully working out the tangles, and you hum, leaning back into it. You were still.. wary, you’d be an idiot not to be, but it was a little better with his fingers in your hair and you wanting them to be there.
“Duke?” You say slowly, Momo in your lap.
“Yeah?”
“Why’re you okay with.. all of this?” You start, fingers tapping on your thigh as he works out the knots.
“What do you mean?” He asks, and you wonder if he’s going to play stupid.
“All of it. The kidnapping, the tampering with my medication, the…” You trail off.
Duke sighs. He sounds so much older than he is, and it makes your heart ache.
“I’m not.” He says lowly, glancing at the now closed door Tim had left through. “I understand where they’re coming from, don’t get me wrong but.. it’s not fair to you.” He finished. “Figured I may as well give you some normally.”
You nod, and sigh, leaning against him.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago
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Unexpected 54
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Warnings: non/dubcon, child endangerment, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, Andy is nasty in this, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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Days pass. Weeks, maybe. There is no dawn or dusk to track the time. You are trapped in this basement, just you and Luna against the monster who took you.
Your only defense is to placate. You keep Andy happy so you can take care of your daughter. You don’t argue with his demands, you don’t push him away as he touches you, you don’t even cry when he fucks you any more. You just close your eyes and let him do what he wants. When you think about it, it’s not too much different than before.
There is no light at the end of this tunnel. If you were to get out of here, your haven is just another prison. Lloyd is only a warden with a different set of rules. For you it doesn’t matter but for Luna, she deserves better than this basement.
Andy snores next to you. It’s time like these you have the urge to hurt him. Your head is filled with violent thoughts. Not just towards your current keeper but to all the men who’ve wronged you. It’s the only strength you can find beneath the crushing weight of futility. Being angry means you still have something left.
A subtle buzz thrums through the mattress. You lean back on your shoulder and peek back at him. His phone vibrates him awake from under his pillow. You remember him tucking it under before he dozed off, likely noticing your straying eyes.
If you could just get it, you could call someone, anyone. But just like everything else, it's unreachable. The door's always locked and the conversation is already decided. He makes the rules and you follow them. It's the only way to keep Luna safe. If it was just you...
You roll onto your back as he grumbles, sliding his hand under the pillow to fumble away the notification. You glimpse the small letters before they swipe away, 'motion detected'. The screen lights up as he rubs his eyes and sits up. He bends over his lap, shrugging as he tries to loosen up his shoulders. 'Doorbell activated', the message pops up as the phone continues to jitter.
"Mmm," he searches around the floor as you sit up, your heart in your throat. Someone's here... "Better see who that is."
He grabs his grey tee shirt and swipes it over his head. You try not to show your eagerness, staying in bed as you watch him on alert. He pulls on his pants and puts the phone in his back pocket before zipping them up. Luna fusses and begins to babble. You move towards the crib and he raises a palm to wave you back.
"I got her," he goes to her as you stand, tense as he reaches in to pick her up, "shh, sweetie, daddy's got you--"
"Andy, please, answer the door," you approach him and he turns his back to you, keeping your daughter out of your reach.
"They can wait," he says as he bounces her, only for her to erupt into sobs. "Sweetie, shhh, shhh," he hushes as he rocks her, "be good for daddy, okay?"
He continues his efforts as you watch helplessly, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you try to get around him but he continues to block you out. You ball your hands, about to tear your hair out as she wails louder and louder.
"Please, let me take her--"
"Why won't she stop?" He growls, "little brat."
"Andy," you whimper as you grab for her and he elbows you away.
"I'll deal with her," he says, "can't have her making all this racket."
He stomps away from you. You're right behind him as he goes over the kitchenette and opens the lower cupboard with his free hand. He pulls out a chest under there, numbers on dials below the clasp. A lock box. He flips it open and cradles her over it.
"Andy, don't! You can't--"
"She's too loud," he bats you away, "the sooner I get up there, the sooner she can come out."
"Please don't lock my baby up," you beg shrilly, "please, let me take her. I'll get her quiet."
Your skin razes with fire and your lungs fill with acid. You try again to take her and he shoves you away so you stagger and hit the table. It jars your bad hip but you barely notice the pain as Luna's cries drive you to desperation.
"Andy!"
"Shut up!" He snarls as he forces her squirming form into the chest, "she's got about ten minutes of air..."
"Please--"
"I don't need either of you drawing attention. Got it," he braces the lid, "anything happens to me, you won't get her out in time."
Tears swell over and spill hotly as he shuts the lid and spins the dials with his thumbs. You race forward and fall to your knees, clutching at the box.
"Andy, please, I can make her quiet. We'll both be quiet!"
"Shhhhh," he pulls out his phone again, "I know you'll be quiet, honey. If you want to see our daughter again."
You nearly collapse as he spins away. You can only watch him go to the stairs and leave you to your panic. You put your ear to the top of the chest and try to hear her. It's too thick. She's going to suffocate in there. You try to pry the edge open with your nails then stagger to your feet, searching the drawers for anything to get the lid up.
Nothing, there's nothing. Your baby, your baby. You can only think of Luna and the terror of that box. You freeze only as a familiar timber rumbles from above. The walls are padded enough to dampen their words but you know that voice. Harlan...
You wait and listen. Is he looking for you? Down here, I'm down here! You want to run up and bang on the door. Even if they know you're there, they won't know the code and they won't have the time to get her out. So you have to be quiet. You have to wait.
There footsteps pass overhead like a clock counting down. You cling to the chest. Please go. Please, please, please....
You collapse over the chest and hug it. You shake as you listen to the voices above drone through the walls. Your heart beats faster and faster as the second pass. Then, it's silent.
You tremble as you stare up at the ceiling. The door opens and the footsteps come down the stairs. Andy appears, nonchalant and unbothered.
"See, that didn't take very long, did it?"
"Open it," you hiss, "please, my baby, open it!"
"Our baby," he nears and puts his hands on his hips, "don't be so dramatic."
"Please, please," you get up on your knees and grab the front of his shirt, "I'll do whatever you want, honey, please, just take her out."
He huffs and shakes his head. He rolls his eyes as he bends over the box and slowly rolls the dials.
"That jackass and his father," he scoffs as the clasp pops. He stands straight, unconcerned. "Sent them off. He... he never appreciated you. Not like I do."
You flip the lid up and scoop Luna out. She's babbling quieter than before, dazed as you touch her all over, checking her pulse and her temperature. You coo at her and rock her, quaking as your adrenaline recedes. A new wave washes for you, something hotter, something more vibrant. Anger. Hatred. Deep and pure.
You look up at Andy as you embrace your daughter. You will kill this man.
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yamamasjumpercables · 9 months ago
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Not Our Time
Cheater!Chris!Sturniolo x Fem!Reader
Warning: Wrist grabbing, cussing and that’s it
a/n: this took a while, hope you guys enjoy it
You were tired of it. The lying, sneaking, yelling, arguing. Everything. You found out Chris has been cheating on you 2 weeks ago. You loved Chris so much that you tried your best to see it through, pretending that it wasn’t true. Last week after you found out You went to confront Chris about the whole situation but, he kept brushing it off. Telling you that it was before you guys knew each other and there was nothing to worry about. You knew better than to trust what he said. Chris knew he couldn’t have his cake and eat it too, but he never felt the need to quit his ways.
Right now You and Chris were currently in his room trying to figure out what went wrong in the relationship. Chris’s phone was in your hand, the messages between Chris and some girl displayed on the screen. Tears were threatening to roll down your face, but you needed to be stern to get through to Chris. “Y/n it’s not what you think” Chris said running his fingers through his hair. “Then what the fuck is it Chris, cause it looks like you cheating on me” You said putting your hands up in defense. “I’m not cheating on you that was a long time ago you are just being delusional” Chris says annoyed. “CHRIS DONT FUCKING LIE TO ME, THIS WAS 10 FUCKING MINUTES AGO ” You say yelling. “YOU ARE DOING TO FUCKING MUCH SHES JUST A FRIEND” Chris says yelling back. “Oh she’s just a friend, I didn’t know friends sends nudes to each other” You said sarcastically. “YOU ARE FUCKING CRAZY Y/N” Chris says yelling at you. “IM CRAZY, YO BITCH ASS CHEATING ON ME WITH A REJECTED VICTORIA SECRET MODEL AND IM CRAZY” You say yelling while getting in Chris’s face. “First of all watch your tone with me, I’m not one of your delusional ass friends who you can talk to like that” Chris says grabbing your wrist. “You are a fucking joke Chris” You say yanking your wrist back from his grip. “So what now you’re gonna break up with me” Chris says crossing his arms. “Yes exactly what I’m gonna do” You say laughing a little. “Wait wait you can’t be seriously willing to end this relationship over this” Chris scoffs getting worried. “Well no it’s not just that, you treat me like shit and act like I don’t mean anything to you so why stay” You say passionately. “Baby, don’t leave me I’ll change” Chris says walking towards you grabbing your hand. “That’s what they all say Chris” You scoff. “I mean it I won’t do it again, I’ll cut everyone off, I’ll treat you better, I’ll give you anything you want, I’ll give you more attention just don’t leave me Y/n” Chris says, voice breaking. “Chris I will always love you, but I can’t sit here and let you treat me like this anymore” You say, a tear rolling down your face. “I can do better I can change for you, I just need time” Chris says putting your hand to his face for your to hold. “I can’t sit and wait for you to be a better person Chris that’s something you have to do on your own, we were right for each other once hopefully we can be right for each other again someday, but it’s just not our time” You say crying. “Y/n please give me another chance” Chris says grabbing your waist pulling you closer to him. “I can’t Chris we have to be apart for a while, until you learn how to respect Me and Yourself” You say rubbing Chris’s face with the pad of your thumb. “I love you Y/n” Chris says as his voice breaks. “I love you too” You say before giving Chris a long passionate kiss. “See you around Chris” You say giving him a final kiss on the cheek and walking out of his room, on your way to start a new life without him. Leaving Chris with his regrets
I haven’t posted anything in a while plus I want to start posting more Chris fics 🧎🏾‍♀️
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 6 months ago
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The Same Page Part 9
Sherlock and Mycroft & little sister!reader
A/N: you guys have been the epitome of patient, and I’m so sorry it took so long to update it. I got so caught up in my requests (which were all supernatural, which I also love btw) that I didn’t even realize that it’s been months. Updates are not gonna take this long in the future, I do love this series too. Thank you guys for being so patient
Warnings: angst, Sherlock’s kinda mean in this one
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“I’m asking you not to declare war.”
Mycroft’s words struck a nerve in Sherlock. He wasn’t the one who threatened a custody battle, and he wasn’t the one always trying to take you away.
“It’s not about declaring war,” Sherlock argued. “It’s about you going against our agreement. You agreed that she should stay here for a few days, and it’s only been one night.”
“Yes, and she’s already had a panic attack,” Mycroft shot back as he led the argument into the kitchen so that they wouldn’t wake you up. “My agreement was made when I thought that you would actually stay here with her, not run off on a case. And I assume that that case is yet to be solved?”
“I’m getting close,” Sherlock said, feeling defensive.
“Which means that you’ll leave again. She can’t be alone Sherlock, she just can’t. You may disagree with me on that, but as her legal guardian I’m putting my foot down; if she’s in this house, she won’t be alone. Ever.”
“How is she ever going to go back to normal if you keep treating her like she can’t do anything on her own?” Sherlock challenged.
“That’s the problem with you, Sherlock! All you can think about is getting her back to normal. Why don’t you stop and try to think about what she needs, instead of just what you want.”
“You think she doesn’t want to go back to normal?” Sherlock scoffed. “You think she wants to be like this?”
“Like what?” Mycroft challenged. “No, don’t turn away,” he continued when Sherlock started to turn, shaking his head. “Like what, Sherlock? Are you going to stand here and tell me that because she’s hurting and she needs help, there’s something wrong with her?” When Sherlock didn’t speak, Mycroft persisted. “Like. What. Sherlock?”
“Like an invalid!” Sherlock snapped. “Like she can’t spend a couple of hours alone, like she can’t eat unless you’re hovering over her, like she can’t do anything by hersel—“ Sherlock’s voice cracked as he stopped, and the blood draining from his face instantly alerted Mycroft. He turned around to see where Sherlock was staring…
“Myc?” Your voice came out in a whimper as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “Myc, I want—I wanna go home now.” You kept your head down, not looking at Sherlock even as he started to protest.
“N/N, I didn’t mean it like—“
“Of course,” Mycroft cut him off. “Of course I’ll take you home now.”
“Mycroft.” Sherlock glared at his brother. “Let me talk to her.”
“Myc, I want to go home,” you repeated, your voice a little more desperate now. The meaning was clear, even if you didn’t say it—you didn’t want to talk to Sherlock.
Mycroft turned on his heel and led you towards the door without responding to Sherlock.
“We haven’t finished discussing this!” Sherlock argued.
The only answer he got was a slamming door.
“I can do it,” you insisted, ignoring Mycroft’s outstretched hand as you reached the stairs leading down 221B.
“Please let me help you.” Mycroft was already reaching for your hand as he spoke, but you snatched your hand away.
“I can do it!” You repeated.
Mycroft pulled his hand back, but remained close as you made your way down the stairs.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled after a moment.
“It’s alright,” Mycroft assured you, and the two of you remained silent after that.
Mycroft was too preoccupied thinking about Sherlock to speak anyway. As much as his little brother had been out of line, he hadn’t been completely wrong. Surely you wanted to go back to the way things had been, at least a little. What was Mycroft going to do if you stopped needing him around? Of course he wanted you to go back to school, to start sleeping regularly again, to eat right, all of that…
But what if you went back to Sherlock? Mycroft realized suddenly that he didn’t want that, even if you completely recovered mentally. He liked you living with him, and he was pretty sure you liked it, too.
But it wouldn’t be fair to you if that wasn’t what you wanted. But Mycroft could no longer tell what you wanted. He was trying to give you what you needed, and it was clear that you weren’t ready for the level of independence that Sherlock was pushing for, but…but what if one day you were? Would you stay with Mycroft, or go to Sherlock?
Mycroft was starting to realize that he needed you to need him too much, and he wasn’t sure what he would do once you didn’t need him. Would no longer needing him mean that you no longer wanted him?
“Is everything ok?” John’s voice interrupted Mycroft’s thoughts as the two Holmes’ passed him in the stairwell.
“Not really,” Mycroft sighed. “We’re going home.”
“What? I’m sure you and Sherlock can—“
“Not now, Dr. Watson,” Mycroft insisted. “We’re going home.”
You were quiet the whole way home, and when Mycroft asked if you wanted to sleep you just nodded silently.
As Mycroft got you settled in your bed, he talked quietly to you.
“I don’t want you to worry about today, alright? Any of it. Sherlock and I are going to figure out our custody arrangement, you’re not going to be left alone again, and…and Sherlock didn’t mean what he said, alright? There’s nothing wrong with you, so don’t think about it.”
You blinked up at your brother for a moment before turning on your side and closing your eyes. Mycroft sighed, turning to sit in his chair by your bed. You hadn’t gone this silent in months.
This could be harder than Mycroft had thought.
Mycroft stirred at the sound of sniffling. He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep—he was usually able to keep himself awake until you fell asleep, but he must’ve dozed off.
He squinted in the dim light to see your short hair, sticking out at a few angles as you cried face-down in your pillow.
“Y/N…” Mycroft was at your side in an instant, but when he pulled you away from your pillow you started to shake your head and push at him. “It’s ok,” he insisted. “It’s ok, it’s just me.”
You continued to shake your head, but Mycroft noticed that your fingers had a vice grip on the front of his shirt.
“It’s alright…I’m right here.” Mycroft pulled you into his arms, and you stopped fighting him. You still didn’t speak, and Mycroft just held you in his arms until you cried yourself to sleep.
“Sherlock, what have you done?” Mycroft muttered to himself.
You had barely managed to hold in your tears until Mycroft fell asleep in his chair, but it didn’t matter, because you’d woken him up anyway. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak as you tried to fight Mycroft off, or even as he held you close. You didn’t actually want him to go away, but after what Sherlock had said…
“She can’t do anything for herself!”
Even if Mycroft claimed it wasn’t true, you couldn’t get that voice out of your head. You’d barely said a word since then, and you weren’t ready to change that yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, it was more like the weight in your chest was so great, that even if you wanted to speak, you didn’t feel able anymore. Your anxiety clawed its way up your throat, choking even the idea of speech.
So instead of speaking, you just let your big brother hold you in his arms until your exhaustion won the fight with your anxiety, and you finally drifted off to sleep.
Mycroft was concerned almost as soon as he woke up. After you’d gone back to sleep, he’d returned to his chair but stayed in your room, just in case. But when he woke up, he saw that you were already awake—your eyes were open, but you hadn’t moved.
“Are you ready to get up?” Mycroft asked softly, and your eyes flickered to him at the sound of his voice. You pushed yourself up wordlessly, and Mycroft began to wonder just how long you’d remain silent. “Let’s go downstairs and get some breakfast,” Mycroft added, being careful not to phrase it like a question; he knew your answer would be no—you never felt like eating when you got like this—but Mycroft wanted (more like needed) to keep you on your eating schedule.
You didn’t protest as Mycroft helped you down the stairs, or when he put a plate of toast in front of you. But you didn’t eat it, either. Mycroft sighed, exhausted.
“I need you to eat. Just a little bit, for me?”
You blinked up at him before returning your gaze to your lap.
“Just a bite or two,” Mycroft added. When you didn’t move, he sighed and pushed the plate aside. “Alright, we can try that again later. Do you want to play our game? Tell me what you see.” Mycroft was desperate for any kind of interaction with you, but you remained unmoving and silent. “C’mon, you can’t—I can’t do this again, please. I can’t. I need you to—“
Mycroft cut himself off when your hand reached out and grabbed his in a death grip, your breath suddenly coming in gasps.
“I can’t do this again, please. I can’t. I need you to—“
Panic gripped your heart as Mycroft struggled to speak.
“I can’t do this again.”
This. You.
Would Mycroft get tired of trying to cater to you, the way Sherlock seemed to? Would he get sick of the way you “couldn’t do anything for yourself”?
You’d sought out Mycroft’s hand without even meaning to as your fear forced itself up your throat, restricting your breath.
What would you do if Mycroft got sick of taking care of you? Where would you go?
You remembered the earlier days of living with Mycroft—when CPS workers came over to “keep an eye” on your custody switch. They’d taken one look at you and tried to convince Mycroft to bring you to some care facility. If Mycroft didn’t want you, was that where you’d go? You wouldn’t last a week there, you just knew it—not without your brothers.
“Y/N! Y/N!” You’d been so lost in your own head that you didn’t hear Mycroft calling out your name until he was shaking your shoulders and yelling in your face. “Yes, good, look at me.” Mycroft breathed in relief when your eyes finally met his.
“I’m sorry.”
Mycroft couldn’t even take a moment to be relieved that you were speaking again as you sobbed in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” you repeated. “Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t—“
“Hey, hey now,” Mycroft cradled your face in his hands, trying to get your attention back. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here Y/N, I promise.” You finally seemed to focus on him, so Mycroft just repeated “I’m right here,” again and again as he wracked his brain for a reason behind your sudden change to hysteria. He’d been speaking just before you started to panic—what had he said?
“I can’t do this again…”
Oh no. You hadn’t understood him; worse, he hadn’t made himself clear to you. Now you thought…
“Hey.” Mycroft made sure he had your full attention before he spoke. “I need you to listen to me now. I…I didn’t mean that I can’t—or won’t—take care of you, ok? I didn’t mean that I’ll leave you. I’ll never leave you, never. You understand me?” At your hesitant nod, he continued. “Good, good. I never meant to make you think that, I just…I just meant that I don’t want to see you in so much pain again. You didn’t talk for so long, and…and I know how much you were hurting. I don’t want you to hurt like that anymore.”
“I’m sor—“
“No, no don’t.” Mycroft wouldn’t let you apologize again. “Don’t ever apologize for being in pain, that’s not what I wanted. I just…I really want you to forget about what Sherlock said. He didn’t mean it, he didn’t. There’s nothing wrong with you, ok?” You didn’t nod this time, but Mycroft didn’t push it. “But it doesn’t matter. Because no matter what happens—with Sherlock, with wherever you decide to live, with all of it—I will never leave you, alright? I’ll be here whenever you need me. I’ll always be here for you.”
Mycroft willingly let you pull him into a hug, and when you all but collapses your weight into his embrace, he held you up without wavering.
“Please tell me you know that. Tell me you believe me. Because I promise it’s true.”
“Ok,” you sniffled. “I-I believe you.”
“Ok,” Mycroft sighed. “Ok.”
Mycroft eventually led you over to the couch where you dropped in exhaustion, and soon enough you were fast asleep, remnants of tears still staining your cheeks.
Once he was sure that you were asleep, Mycroft reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, pressing a number and placing the phone to his ear.
“Sherlock? Yes, it’s me. I need you here, now. You’ve got a mess to fix.”
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