#this is almost a 1:1 mirror of the notes i have on my phone so this one’s been cookin for a while

[yameoto]

SUPERNOVA CAITLYN KIRAMMAN

kpop idol caitlyn X her insatiably horny junior

"Noona is so cool!"  You mimic, voice pitching either higher or lower, depending on which of the plethora of comments you pick, at your leisure. "Caitlyn’s a CF goddess. Her talents are seriously wasted. Wah, her visuals are really otherworldly. Unnie looks so good I’m creaming my pants—" Caitlyn fixes you with a flat, unimpressed look, at that last one. “It doesn't say that.” You grin, like the effervescent angel you are. “Yeah. That was just me.”

tw; dom/sub!caitlyn, brat!reader, idolverse, girlcock, semi-public sex, sex in dance practice rooms, mirror sex, handjobs, handjobs during vlives, voyeurism, mild age-gap, age hierarchy dynamics, use of korean honorifics. idol!caitlyn x idol!reader wc; 5.1k. ao3

notes: set in modern day runeterra. ionia encompasses the entire region of asia in league which i personally find stupid but i dont make the rules. fluff/smut/humour. derivative of korean culture (kpop idol au) + pokes a lil fun at stan culture. no prior kpop knowledge is needed (though it would likely help) the sex is filthy regardless. wrote this after finding caitlyn is only a 1/4 white like hallelujah jesus

CAITLYN looks stupidly good. Like stupid, stupidly good. Her grey sweatpants are slung low on her hips, waistband of her briefs peeking out. Sweat-slickened abs glare back at you, from the floor-to-ceiling mirror. The outline of her bulge is visible. These are all observations that you latch into like an IV-drip hooked-up to your wrist, in order to stay alive—lest you die from the fatigue. And boredom.

“Please,” You grumble, head slumped on your knee as your arm drops to the floor, phone abandoned Candy Crush side, up. “Please, please, please, can we go home?” 

“No,” Caitlyn huffs, hands on her hips, looking entirely too good as she takes a momentary (and you mean, momentary) break to swig a sip of water, before she hurls herself right back into it, sweaty and stunning.

The two of you have been trapped in the practice rooms for what feels like eternity. Or, more accurately, Caitlyn has trapped you in the practice rooms for what feels like eternity. You would rather be snuggled up and content in the comfort of your dorms; rather than slogging away in the basement, like you’re still trainees clawing your way up the company ladder inch by inch—rather than the four-time daesang winners, face of Ionia’s girl-groups’, and other innumerable accolades under your belts that seemingly mean nothing to your fearless group leader. At least, at the moment.

You’ve long slunk to the floor, sleepy eyes tracing the way sweat rolls down Caitlyn’s nape as she re-runs the movements for about the zillionth time. Her shoulder-blades flex through the thin fabric of her shirt, sweat dampening into a darkened pool in a way that should be gross, but on her, it just looks sexy. The ache in your muscles has simmered to a low burn, by now. Jeez, your eyelids are slipping. Thank God you have your sweet leader to ogle. The sight of Caitlyn’s bulge peeking through those sweatpants is practically your sole motivator in keeping your eyes open.

“You know,” After what feels like a decade, you pipe up again, because time has begun to melds together. “You’ve got it. Seriously.” The swig of water that sluices down your throat is lukewarm and unsatisfactory. Fuck, you’re thirsty. “The stage is a week away. You’ll be fine.”

Caitlyn’s eyes narrow at you through the mirror, incredulous.

“When in the world has fine ever been good enough?” 

Okay, sure. Caitlyn’s right. But she’s more than fine. Almost-perfect, actually—and come seven days—her dance moves will indubitably be heaven-sent and her ending fairy will probably trend #1 on three different social media platforms, and you will most definitely tug her ear endlessly about it, like the benevolent, supportive junior you are.

Seven days prior, however—and all you are is tired, grouchy, and maybe just a little bit horny. 

“I crave the sanctity of my blankets.” You lament, hand falling over your forehead as you languish on the floor, because the sun has probably set by now and you are seriously contemplating the possibility of dying of old age in this godforsaken practice room. (Not that that would be so bad, if Caitlyn were with you).

“You can go home, you know,” Caitlyn sighs, twisting around to face you, sneakers squeaking on the glossy wooden floors. 

“How am I supposed to sleep without my favourite member as a bolster?”  You pout, snatching on the chance to act a brat, immediately. Caitlyn just rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch upwards, so negligible that if you weren't so tuned in to all-things-Caitlyn, you might’ve missed it.

“Clingy.” She mutters, like she doesn't love it. Loves being your favourite. Not that it matters, because the glimmer of hope that flickers in your chest when Caitlyn crouches down in the direction of her bag—is immediately quashed when she only taps her screen, and the speaker rewinds all the way to the start. 

You’re really starting to hate this song.

“Are you serious? That’s not enough to rouse your cold, dead, heart?” You whine, because usually Caitlyn would've caved to your grabby-hands and doe-eyes by now (especially with the way you look; lips parted and shining with spit, water trickling down your chin down the column of your throat, from the leftover rivulets of your water-bottle.) Not that Caitlyn doesn't notice. She’s just really, really determined to get this right.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

“You work yourself too hard.”

You stretch to a stand, elongated and cat-like before you slink over and sling yourself dramatically along Caitlyn’s back. Her expression contorts into exasperation. She attempts to turn her head, to face you—to no avail. Not when you’re pushing her up against the mirror and the pinning her down against glass with the power of aggressive spooning on your side. Her hand shoots out to brace against the mirror, as your fingers hook the hem of her sweats, and Caitlyn stiffens under your thumb, lips falling open against her will.

“Darling,” She inhales, in that addictive, throaty accent of hers. Caitlyn sounds almost pained, as she catches your wrists—though she neither takes them in or wrests them away. The both of you have full view of the rising tent in her groin.

“What?” You smirk, teeth grazing the shell of her ear, like the sneaky little bastard you are. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to practice with a boner, unnie. That must hurt.”

Caitlyn’s breath hitches, and her knees almost buckle, if it weren’t for the way your arms tighten around your waist and squeeze the growing problem at her crotch. Your fingers twine with the string of her trackpants, loosening them under slim, deft fingers.

“Honorifics? Really?” Her voice is tight. She’s screwed. You only ever whip those out when you want something, seeing as how you've been speaking informally to your technical senior  since your very first meeting, in trainee days, (an accident she so loves to recount on variety shows. “It’s not my fault you just looked so young and pretty, unnie.” You’d fumble in defense, eyes wide and doling out the extra sparkle for the cameras as they zoomed-in on your frantic apologies, laugh track sure to be edited in. “What was I supposed to think?”

“You’re lucky I was too kind to scold you,” Caitlyn sighs, and—in a dramatic show of theatricality—flips the inky-blue curtains of her hair behind her shoulder, much to the hosts delight. “I can be really mean, baby.” 

That had been a hit. Probably because of the way her drawl had lilted playfully and she’d cupped your jaw in the most egregious display of fan service you’d ever seen. Caitlyn’s always known how to wrap the media around her pretty fingers; and your stammer and ensuing blush had mercilessly crowded your feed for at least two weeks, afterwards.)

That’s in public, though. In private? 

Caitlyn is a puddle to the graze of your fingers along her hipbone, and the glide of your breath up her neck. Dark eyes meet hers, hooded and intent, reflected in the pane of metal in front of you. It’s certainly a sight to behold. The two of you are both dripping in sweat, Caitlyn’s cheeks flushed, bare-faced and glowing—hair tangled up in that loose ponytail that you've always found so much hotter on her, than any amount of hours in the styling chair could ever produce.

“I really need to..” Caitlyn’s protests sound weak even to her own ears. Especially when heat pools in hot, throbbing waves that rush straight to her dick, and she's cut off by her own gasp when you nuzzle in the nook between her shoulder-blades and your hands—beautiful, cunning hands—ghost over her crotch and squeeze. Her entire world lurches into a haze, body spasming upwards.

“Unnie,” You breathe, sweet and soft, like the devil in her ear, “please fuck me.”

Just like that, Caitlyn can’t take it any longer. A low, strangled noise rips from her throat, eyes fogging over and black eclipsing blue. Lithe hands coil around your wrists, and flips your positions entirely—thrusting you right up against the glass.

Her muscles are throbbing, hours of dance practice flaming up her bones; but she pins you down with the strength of a woman possessed, all the same. As far as Caitlyn’s concerned, she’s like a sleeper agent to your bedroom voice, and the fact could never shine with more clarity, than now (other than the time you’d done a Lola Shark impression in an interview and she’d gotten, to her horror, embarrassingly hard underneath the blanket thrown over her lap. She’d had to call in a bathroom break, to take care of it—much to your smug, haunting amusement).

In the mirror, you watch as Caitlyn’s breathing shallows into pants, tongue licking hot up the stretch of your neck to under your jaw. Neither of you miss the brief, smugly satisfied spark to your eyes and glowing hot between your thighs, even as both squeeze shut when you arch up against Caitlyn’s bulge. She grinds down against your ass, and you moan, so brazen she almost can’t believe it.

“Shit. You're so shameless,” Caitlyn mutters, breaths rushing harsh against your shoulder as she fumbles with the knot at your sweats, rutting hopelessly into the coil of your figure. The moment thread slips free, pants pooling to your ankles as you bend over, head thrown back—Caitlyn’s brand-name briefs soak with a splurge of pre so intense she almost thinks she’s come early.

“You want my fingers?” Caitlyn asks, just to be a bitch. Your eyes squint open to glare at her through blurry vision and through an even blurrier visage.

“Don’t joke,” You spit, voice hoarse with want. It's meant to sound demanding, but all it comes out is whiney, and Caitlyn’s laugh sends shivers down your nape.

There’s a millisecond in which your mind empties completely, and it's almost cruel how you can only see the reflection of Caitlyn’s cock curving upwards from her underwear rather than the real deal. 

Caitlyn’s grasp is like steel around your neck. She thrusts you forwards, your flushed cheeks smushing against the cool surface of the mirror as your stuttered breaths puff in grey clouds of condensation. A groan wrangles itself out of your throat from being manhandled like that, knees wobbling the moment you feel something hot, thick and so, so wet press insistently against the backs of your thighs. Arousal has already begun to drip down your legs, running down in rivulets and moistening the floor under your feet. Yours or Caitlyn’s—you don’t have the eyes to know.

“Unnie,” You breathe, shakily, voice raw. Your fingers are slippery against glass, and you whimper when the familiar stretch of two fingers sinks into your cunt. You slide open, just like that, and Caitlyn temporarily wrenches you back so that you can see your fogged-up reflection in all its full, filthy glory. 

“S’not enough,” You pant, back arching and ramming urgently against her digits she’s spreading you wide, with—so eye-wateringly slow. Maybe it’s the fact that you've been working yourself up, blatantly eyeing her down, for hours since your head checked out of training and your brain devolved into its most primitive urges in coping with your mind-numbing boredom. 

“Not enough?” She grins, sharp-toothed and devastating, adoring the upper-hand. “What? You need a third finger, baby?” The noise that tears out of you is almost like a wounded animal, and you'd be embarrassed if you weren't so overcome with need and prolonging this teasing sounds like torture.

So, you answer with the obvious, “Your cock.” You hiss through gritted teeth, because Caitlyn loves it when you beg for her dick and you’re too hare-brained and empty to do anything more than push back, impossibly deeper into her fingers. They sink to her knuckles of entirely your own volition, without her having to do so much as twitch. 

Caitlyn’s laugh is practically a goad in itself. The lush curtain of her lashes are lowered, irises swallowed up by the deep dilation of her pupils. Still, though, she takes her time in playing with you, just a little longer. Revels in the way you thrash around her fingers, fucking yourself back, desperate.

Herself is one thing. Her dick can only take so much, however. The ache becomes too much, too soon, and the second she runs her glossy head against the drenched, hot pulse of your hole—she can’t not shudder, knot in her throat, before her fingers slip out of your pussy and your consequent whimper is interrupted by the plunge of her cock.

“Hah, baby..” Caitlyn whimpers, eyes fluttering back as she fucks you against the mirror, nails dragging up your hips and digging into supple flesh. Never has Caitlyn felt so at home, submerged in the deep, velvet ocean of your cunt.

“Unnie—” You gasp. It’s the one word, echoing over and over, like an all-consuming siren song throughout your head—with each gasp that comes with every thrust of Caitlyn’s hips, motions growing sloppier as the exhaustion of hours of tireless exertion catches up to the both of you. She nips at your ear, then down the curve of your nape, to the unblemished skin of your upper back. Teeth grazing, pads of her fingers leaving scorching trails as she gropes up your body—your mind a jumbled, fuzzy mess. Her cock plunges in and out, still guided, though she never slips out more than mid-way; bodies sticking together like gum. Like she can’t bear to be apart from you for even a moment—even if it is to pummel your cunt until you can hardly take it anymore.

It’s only when the pumps and rolls begin to slow into simple, gentle rocks, to absolutely nothing but a twitch—that your mind clumsily clasps onto a semblance of clarity, hasty and brief, like you know it’ll slip away and out of reach, soon. “Wha..?” You rasp, half-slurred, even if what you really want to whinge is; What’s goin’ on? Why’d you stop? And, please, please, please. Don’t stop. Keep goin’. Fill me up. Please, don’t ever stop— and other half-baked nonsense that you’ll be glad your tongue was too thick and heavy in your mouth to spill.

“I can’t mark you,” Caitlyn grunts, and your eyes sharpen, just a little. Her tongue peeks out from her lips as her expression looks disproportionately distraught, like it’ll be the end of the world if she doesn’t stake some sort of physical claim on you, eyes darting downwards to your unblemished shoulders with a low growl of frustration.

Distantly, that part of you is still clinging onto reality, knows she’s right. That your comeback is in a week’s time and risking a hickey or a bite-mark or worse (because Caitlyn is stronger and sharper and rougher than her delicate figure should ever have been allowed to be), is a bad, bad idea.

But the larger part of you—the part of you that is currently being railed by her unnie’s cock and trying desperately not to squirt cum all over the practice room mirror—rasps out a reckless, ragged, “Who cares?”, and that’s all the permission Caitlyn needs.

Caitlyn pulls out, and slams herself in again, grip on your waist, bruising. Your hands go sliding, uselessly against the steamy surface of the mirror, long fogged-up under the slick tangle of your bodies. She’s mouthing slurred nonsense into your ear, the music speaker knocked over by one of your ankles and emitting distant sounds from where it's rolled, to the other side of the room. Neither of you could give a single fuck. 

Not the least, when Caitlyn’s hand is sliding up your throat and thumbing over your gaping lips. It feels as if a pink-hued fuzziness has descended the room and become a thick veil over everything, and when her fingers slip into the hot, wet gasp of your mouth—it's only right for you to take the digits in your tongue and suck. 

“Ahnngh—Cait—”  

“When did I say you could speak informally to me?” Caitlyn husks, fingers pressing deeper into the roof of your mouth. In your reflection, you can see the razor angle of Caitlyn’s jaw as she nuzzles into your ear. The obscene glisten of your spit, coating her fingers and coasting down your chin as her digits languish between your parted lips. You look every bit like her precious fuckdoll, right now.

“Unnie—”

“Ah-ah.”

“Sunbae.” 

“Mm. That’s better.”

Her free hand skims up your shirt, slipping up the taut lines of your body and flicking idly at one nipple. You whine, garbled around the gag of her hand, and Caitlyn lets out a moan of content when your pussy tightens around her shaft.

“Fuck,” She pants, teeth sinking down into your shoulder and you buck, even though the pain barely registers with how Caitlyn barrels her cock in you, deeper, and your eyes roll back into your skull. Your thighs are shaking. “M’gonna—hfgh—” 

Her hips draw upwards, and Caitlyn cums like a faucet. All of it, inside you. Outside of you. Dripping from your still-leaking cunt and droplets getting fucked out with each, desperate thrust as she moans, guttural. “Take it—fuck—” Caitlyn groans, harsh and insistent as she pounds, your pussy squelching—so wonderfully wet—as your fingers scramble against the glass, her fingers cramming deep inside your mouth.

“Ah-ah—fuck!”

The two of you go crashing down, sliding down against the mirror and onto the floor with a twinning, indecipherable slew of obscenities, a boneless, panting heap, still moving in tandem. 

You both slump, slippery and sticky. The song on the speakers re-starts, yet again, from the other side of the room, though it's the first time it's even pierced your ears in the past forty minutes. Caitlyn groans, pushing her nose into the crook of your neck, arms tightening around your waist. The mirror is splattered in both your cum.

“We’re gonna have to clean this up, aren’t we?”

“..Probably.” You sigh, still leaking around her cock as you angle your head, the two of you slotting together like missing puzzle pieces.

Twenty-four hours and countless Kleenex wipes later (and really, cleaning your own cum from floor-to-ceiling mirrors—with two half-guilty reflections staring right back at you—is an uniquely humbling experience); it was totally worth it to see Caitlyn appropriately red, after the crash of post-nut clarity.

It’s your one, blissfully empty day before comeback promotions launch you all into full-throttle. You intend to enjoy it while it lasts. 

“Your latest Lotte CF went viral,” You pop behind her, totally innocously if weren’t for that familiar, impish glint in your eyes. Caitlyn sighs, not even glancing up from the stove, completely nonplussed. Probably because Caitlyn could record herself taking a piss and it would chart #1 on Melon.

“The seonjiguk is simmering.” She ignores you. You ignore her right back.

“Look at those dimples,” You beam like a little shit as you wave the video in her face. “Maybe you should go into acting. The GP would go crazy.”

“No thanks,” Caitlyn snorts, hand lifting upwards to stifle a brief yawn, sleeves coming up all the way to her knuckles. “been there, done that.” 

“Oh, right. All your Piltovian film connections.” You hum, idly tracing the underneath of Caitlyn’s elbow as you lean over her shoulder to watch her cook. She’s markably improved from her humble beginnings of blackened, bubbling slag (what was once instant Buldak), or the scotchmarks that still hail the kitchen tiles, to this day.

“Mhm. I was almost poached. My mother wanted me to—what was that? Follow in her footsteps.”

“Well, I’m grateful that you didn't,” You hum, into her shoulder. You poke her side, grinning. “Then you wouldn't have met me, and wouldn't that be tragic?”

Caitlyn scoffs, but you feel her sink a little deeper into your embrace, eyes flitting to settle onto the top of your head, as you nudge into her. You both, really are grateful.

You’re pretty sure Ionia is grateful, too. 

Whatever the day, it always feels like Caitlyn’s name has taken up a permanent residence in the nation’s newsites. ICE PRINCESS. AI VISUALS. ATTITUDE PROBLEM. Her quarter Piltovian and subsequent accent injects an ‘attractive exoticism’ (or whatever management had stapled to your files, at the dawn of debut), that had made Caitlyn internationally explosive, too. 

The Kiramman surname certainly helped. Caitlyn’s debut was like, the biggest plot-twist in nepotism, ever. It was like if Nicole Kidman’s kid suddenly became Hatsune Miku. Not to mention the fact the Kirammans are the largest benefactor of Hextech, whose global rollout of leading-edge tech has gone unmatched. Of all careers for the Kiramman’s mysterious, devastatingly attractive daughter to take—this is the one that took the entire globe off-guard. Including the great and glamorous, Cassandra Kiramman.

Of course, the initial shock long lapsed underwater, with the constant roil of the media waves. Caitlyn’s fame, however, has not.

“Noona is so cool!”  You mimic, voice pitching either higher or lower, depending on which of the plethora of comments you pick, at your leisure. “Caitlyn’s a CF goddess. Ah, her talents are seriously wasted. Is she an angel? Her visuals are really otherworldly—”

“Get that away from me.” Caitlyn swats your phone away with a scowl, pretty pink flush glowing on her features.

“Don’t act all coy,” You prod her so-highly-lauded cheekbones as Caitlyn huffs in annoyance, though begrudgingly leans against the touch anyways. You squish. “We all know you’re preening inside.”

“I am not!”

“Ooh, sexy. I love it when your accent comes out like that.”

Caitlyn groans, because you’re impossible, and just twists so that she’s facing you, back against the kitchen counter. You reach behind her to switch off the stove.

She hooks her fingers into the hem of your pyjama shorts, thumbing over familiar cotton. She sighs outwardly, propping her head up on your shoulder and slumping forwards to rest the cold press of her nose into the crook of your shoulder. Her fingers skim up your shirt, absently rubbing circles into the plane of your stomach.

“You know I hate it when you read those.”

“About how you look like an eepy bunny when you’re sleepy? Or that you have moles in the shape of a giraffe on your nape.” You arch a brow, looking past her as you flick through the blurs of text in various degrees of capitalisation, on your phone. A subtle smirk lifts your lips. “Hey. Is that true? Let me check.”

She scowls, and then almost looks offended that you don’t know that already (You do. Caitlyn also has a darkened, heart-shaped birthmark indented in the crook of her inner thigh—but that’s just for you to know, thank you very much).

Your voice raises a pitch. “Unnie looks so good I’m creaming my pants!”

Caitlyn fixes you with a flat, unimpressed look. “It doesn't say that.”

You grin, like the effervescent angel you are. “Yeah. That was just me.”

Oh, now Caitlyn’s cheeks go red. You push valiantly past the triumphant flutter in your heart, in favour of continuing your teasing. Hey—there’s no schedule today, the dorms are all to yourselves—and you’re on a roll. 

“Look. They wanna steal your eyes and put them in a boba drink.”

Thoroughly fed-up with your antics, Caitlyn snatches the phone out of your hand, and you immediately squirm, to lunging for it. Caitlyn’s ridiculous height advantage has the one-up on you, though, and you puff out an aggrieved yelp of protest when she dangles it above your head, like a dickhead.

“Hey, what the fuck?” You complain, like your comeuppance wasn't exactly what you were hoping for. Except you were more aiming for a pin-you-against-the-fridge, fuck-the-insides-out-of-you type of comeuppance. Not a sordid reminder that you need a stool to reach the top of Caitlyn’s head. “Don’t lord your freakish Frankenstein genetics over me!”

Caitlyn laughs, eyes flickering down. “Are you on your tip-toes right now?” 

Your eyes narrow, because you do not appreciate having the tables turned on you. Your hand shoots up to cup her jaw, tilting it upwards. Caitlyn softens, putty in your hands, adorable furrow in her brow melting away along with her pride as she sinks into your palm with a soft sigh, arm falling to her side.

There we go.

“It’s not my fault you avoid socials like the plague. I’m just doing my duty to take care of my leader’s PR. Your fans are starving.”

Caitlyn grumbles, “Well, let them starve.” though it comes out pinched between smushed lips, cheeks squishing like a dumpling. So heartless, like she’s not the industry’s princess and probably makes up a total of 50% of the company’s annual income. You know exactly why, as you cradle her face in her palms and watch as she leans upwards because no matter how disgruntled Caitlyn acts, or how shockingly humble she is under that front of aloof, arrogance–she definitely preens under attention.

Just. Only yours. 

“Hey, you know what? We should go live right now.”

“What—?” Caitlyn stammers, flabbergasted by the sudden change in direction, “Don’t—“

Too late. Within seconds, you’ve swiped your phone back from her limp hands and flipped the vlive on. Recording. Like, now. Damn, you're speedy. 

“Ah..” Caitlyn’s expression smooths over to that charming, impeccably gorgeous grin of hers that shows off the sharp curves of her cheekbones and has won her the hearts of a nation. 

You pull her to the couch, and under the scrutiny of the camera—Caitlyn acquises with little more than a subtle elbow to your ribs, when the both of you go thudding into the cushions with a low oomph.

Then, you flop against her chest, and the stream of hearts that ensue are absolutely incredible, comments rolling in faster than you can read them. There’s a reason why the two of you are the most popular pairing in the group.

“Hm. Is it on?” You muse, faux confusion tugging on your pretty features. Knitted brows and a plush little pout always do the job, especially when you add a sneak of tongue. No doubt to be screenshotted and re-uploaded countless times, within the next hour. “Hello? Can you guys hear us?”

Which is, you know, the perfect time to grab Caitlyn’s dick through her pants.

A choked noise resounds beside you, and you don’t glance over, for you’re too busy fiddling with the phone and the settings and all other kinds of bullshit that is really just an excuse for you to focus your attention on snaking a hand down Caitlyn’s waistband, just out of view of the camera. “Oh! It’s working. Did you miss us?” You beam, as Caitlyn struggles not to either sock you in the stomach or throw her head back and moan.

If anybody notices Caitlyn’s pupils are suspiciously blown, it doesn’t come up. What does come up, is her ever traitorous cock that lilts immediately into your touch. Fuck. Fuck, fuck.

“Aw, little Caity’s missed me, too,” You croon, as your sneaky fucking fingers stroke idly along her girth, underneath the veil of her sweatpants and just over the thin fabric of her underwear. Caitlyn visibly bristles, because, 1. You’re jacking her off. 2. She hates that your coo instigates a flood of love-bombing so intense, that the hearts on the screen almost completely obscure the both of you. 3, and the most important one; you just gave her dick a nickname! 

“Cait.” You tease out, eyes glittering, not even bothering to conceal your amusement as Caitlyn’s hips buck upwards, her fingers pinching against your sides, lips completely shut mum, for fear she’ll let slip a moan on camera. “C’mon. Say something. You missed them too, right?”

Gods. Caitlyn hates you. She really, really hates you. Just—not enough to not shove your hand away when it starts to peel away the waistband of her underwear. If only because the feeling of precum soaking its seat, sticking to her skin, and not because she’s itching for the sweet relief of your hand around her cock.

“..Hi,” Caitlyn forces her winning, boxy grin, and the years of practice make it an admirably unstrained effort. Maybe she really should go into acting. “Mm. Long time no see, hm?” 

“Unnie’s being awkward, today.” You snark, all sly, and Caitlyn shoots you a glare. She’s rewarded by the sudden, fervent warmth of your hand wrapping around her dick, and then the harsh tug of your fist that has her knees jerking upwards and her dastard slit spurting out a shiny, hot glob of precum. She swallows back a low, strangled whine, like a dry pill. Oh, Gods. She’s supposed to say something.

“Ah, just..—we’ve—ah—”

In a rare show of mercy (because apparently, you’re not out to throw both your careers to the dogs), you swipe the phone back with the most cherubic, triumphant grin to adorn your face, literally ever. Catilyn lets slip a barely-audible hiss as your fingers coil, just a little tighter, stroking up and down—thumb running back over the swollen, gloatingly shiny cockhead.

“We just had a long time in the practice rooms for our comeback, yeah? So we’re pretty tired. Right, unnie?” 

Oh, you're really pushing it, now. 

“Mm. We’ve been—working. Really hard.” She has to lean out of the screen to release a silent, desperate gasp, nails digging into the back of the couch as she tries to rut up into your hand in a way that doesn't obviously send the sofa, trembling. You idly thumb over her slit, smearing the thick, embarrassingly copious amounts of pre down her length. It twitches in your palm, as you ramble on about schedules and the comeback and spoilers and other things that have long become white noise in Caitlyn’s ears. Her hips chase your touch, brazenly, now. She barely even realises when you’re calling it quits; early, too. Because obviously, this was all just to fuck with her.

“Caitlyn,” You sing-song—smirking (supremely unsubtly), at the camera. “Say bye-bye.”

She only just registers the comment. Barely. “Bye.” Caitlyn’s voice is a low croak, hips arching upwards off the couch just as you end the live. Just in time, too, because—

“Oh, fuck.” Caitlyn releases the longest moan of her life, cum spilling over your fist, and she collapses back into the couch. Your phone falls from your hand, and you’re practically shaking with laughter. 

(“Little Caitey,” Caitlyn grumbles, after the fact, with your head nestled between her thighs in apology, “That’s preposterous. What’s so little about her?” Nothing. But there’s no fun in that, is there? At the slow, sly smile spreading on your face, Caitlyn groans. “What?”

“You referred to her in third-person.”

“..Please just suck me off already.”)

[dksfml]

Love 119 [Part Two]

part of my paramedic!jungwon series. [part one] [part three] [part four (prequel)]

pairing: paramedic!jungwon x doctor!reader genre: enemies at work, lovers at home. secret dating. jungwon is hot when jealous, suggestive, fluff summary: your coworkers think that you and niki look cute together while jungwon, your boyfriend is literally standing next to you and it's driving him insane. word count: 3.5k author's note: hey everyone! as promised, i'm here to serve another paramedic jungwon brainrot because it's not fair to just devour this cutesy alone. enjoy and leave some notes <3 read part 1 first and reply if you want to get tagged for the next parts!

You’re midway through a lukewarm coffee in the hospital cafeteria when your coworker leans in, voice low and eyes gleaming with intrigue. “So…” she starts, drawing the word out slowly, “who’s the lucky guy?”

It takes you a second, but the question sinks in just as she tilts her head, nodding toward your neck with a smirk. Your hand instinctively rises to the spot Jungwon’s lips had claimed last night, right at the juncture of your neck and shoulder—a parting gift as you’d curled up together, something you didn’t think twice about until now.

A blush surges to your cheeks. “What? Oh, no, that’s… I scratched it too hard,” you say quickly, heat rising not only from the surprise but the memory of last night—Jungwon’s sleepy grin, the way he’d pulled you close, whispering in your ear as he pressed soft kisses down the curve of your neck.

“Sure you did,” she teases, crossing her arms as her smirk widens. “You’re going to need a better excuse than that. So… is it Niki?”

“What?” you laugh, the idea so out of the blue it’s almost comical. “Niki? Why would you even think that?”

She shrugs, the smugness on her face never faltering. “You always have a soft spot for him. You never scold him like the rest of us. Plus, everyone’s seen the way he hovers around you in the halls, he’s clearly smitten.”

Your eyes widen at the notion. Niki, your young, eager junior who fumbles his way through shifts and who you can’t help but look after because he’s new and a little too starry-eyed for his own good? It’s laughable. “It’s not like that,” you manage, shaking your head. “He’s just… young, that’s all.”

“Mhmm,” she says with a knowing chuckle. “Sure, if you say so.”

Before you can protest further, your phone vibrates. Glancing down, you find a message from Jungwon: a photo of his lunch, neatly arranged with a sweet message beneath it. “Eat well, ily.”

The casual intimacy of it makes your stomach flip, and you feel an involuntary smile tugging at your lips. You quickly swipe away the notification, hoping she didn’t see the smile or the faint hearts in your eyes.

The day unfolds in the usual rush of patient check-ins, chart updates, and emergency calls. You busy yourself to the point where the cafeteria conversation drifts from your mind—until you catch a glimpse of yourself in the break room mirror and spot the faint outline of that now-infamous hickey, the concealer having barely managed to mask it. You tug your collar higher, hoping to hide it through the rest of the shift.

The afternoon in the ER has been a blur of movement and urgency, leaving you barely a moment to breathe. Every time an ambulance pulls up, your heart skips a beat, half-hoping, half-dreading that it’ll be Jungwon walking through those doors.

But each time, it’s someone else, and you return to the steady rhythm of your work, instructing Niki at your side as he follows your lead. Despite the tense environment, he’s attentive and focused, learning from you as he manages each step of the patient’s treatment with remarkable ease.

Afterward, you and Niki head back to the department office, the adrenaline settling as you both chat lightly, unwinding from the chaotic pace. As you enter, you spot Jungwon down the corridor, heading the other way with a stack of documents.

It’s almost comical how, even amidst the bustling hospital, his presence stands out so starkly to you. For a split second, he glances your way, and the fleeting moment feels charged, pulling your attention and making it impossible to look away. But as soon as your eyes meet, you glance down, hoping no one notices how that brief connection leaves your pulse racing.

Once back at your desk, you feel your coworkers’ eyes on you, their curious glances flickering between you and Niki. You try to brush it off as nothing, settling into your usual seat, with Niki across from you. Just as you’re starting to sift through some files, Jungwon’s familiar stride enters the department office.

His easy confidence fills the room, and he greets everyone with that understated charm, heading to a nearby colleague to ask for specific documents. You’re not even looking at him, but his presence is impossible to ignore. You focus on your papers, hoping that looking busy might steady your nerves, but the pages blur in front of you, your mind too distracted by the fact that he’s just a few steps away.

Then, just as you’re juggling a pile of documents, you accidentally knock over your iced coffee. The mostly empty cup clatters over, spilling what’s left onto your coat. The moment the coffee splashes onto your coat, Niki and Jungwon are both at your side in an instant. Niki’s quick to pull out a box of tissues, while Jungwon silently holds out a pristine handkerchief, a touch of annoyance already flickering in his gaze.

Caught off-guard, you instinctively reach for Niki’s tissues, leaving Jungwon standing there with his handkerchief, his jaw tightening slightly as he watches you dab at the stain.

Your coworkers notice the scene and immediately latch onto it, their laughter filling the room. "Oh, come on, you two," one of them teases, grinning at the pair of you. "Why don’t you just date already?”

Another chimes in, "Yeah, it’s obvious there’s something going on. I mean, look how attentive Niki is—always ready to help you out."

You wave them off, laughing it away, but the teasing only grows louder. Someone else playfully nudges Niki. "What’s next, bringing her coffee in the morning?"

Niki laughs, scratching the back of his head, visibly flustered. "Come on, guys, we’re just… coworkers," he insists, though his blush only adds fuel to the fire.

Meanwhile, you can feel Jungwon’s gaze on you, sharper and more intense than ever. His silence speaks volumes; the usual relaxed confidence he carries seems to be tinged with something harder, a jealousy that simmers just beneath the surface. It unsettles you, tugging at something guilty inside as the teasing around you grows.

Suddenly, Jungwon steps forward to you, interrupting the chatter with a clipped tone. "Enough with the tissues,” he says, leveling his gaze at you, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Stop fussing with that coat—you’re only making it worse. Change into something clean, or the smell will stick with you all day.”

The room falls silent, your coworkers exchanging amused glances. You roll your eyes, unwilling to let him get the last word.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Practicality. I can handle a few drops of coffee,” you retort, folding your arms and meeting his gaze with a defiant tilt of your chin.

He raises an eyebrow, a slow smirk forming on his lips.

"Right, because dealing with a coffee stain is something you’re well-prepared for," he says dryly, folding his arms to match yours. "Clearly, practicality isn’t your strong suit."

You scoff, refusing to back down. "And since when did you become an expert in coffee stain management? It’s barely noticeable, and I’m perfectly fine with it."

Jungwon’s gaze doesn’t waver, the challenge sparking between you both as he leans in just a fraction, his voice lower. "Just because you’re fine with it doesn’t mean everyone else is." His eyes flick down to the stain and then back up to yours, a knowing glint in them.

Your coworkers are watching with raised brows, amused but also visibly intrigued by the tension between the two of you. "Are we interrupting something?” one of them jokes, breaking the silence. "Honestly, the way you two bicker is like a married couple."

The comment makes you blush, but Jungwon doesn’t flinch. Instead, he holds your gaze, his smirk deepening. "At least one of us knows how to handle these little emergencies,” he quips, voice steady, though there’s a hint of something raw behind his eyes—a hint of jealousy that only you can catch. The way he’s looking at you, there’s no mistaking it: he’s anything but amused by the teasing around Niki.

But before you can respond, Niki steps forward, awkwardly placing his coat over your chair. “Um, here,” he says, clearly trying to ease the tension. “You can wear mine for now if the coffee’s bothering you that much.”

The room erupts into more laughter, someone nudging Niki with a grin. "See? He’s a gentleman. Really, you two should just make it official."

Another coworker teases, "Or maybe they already have, and they’re just not telling us."

Jungwon’s expression hardens as he watches the exchange, his eyes narrowing. His gaze flickers from Niki to you, a frustration simmering beneath his calm facade.

You feel the tension growing, an almost tangible weight of jealousy in the way his jaw clenches, his fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh.

Finally, he speaks up, cutting through the laughter with a controlled but slightly irritated tone. "Enough of the matchmaking." His gaze falls pointedly on you, something possessive flickering there, though he masks it quickly. "And you should change. That coffee smell won’t just vanish."

You narrow your eyes at him, refusing to back down. "If it bothers you so much, why don’t you bring me a change of clothes yourself?"

"Thanks," he says shortly, taking the stack of paperwork with a polite nod. He turns back to you and your coworkers, offering a quick, “See you all later. Take care, everyone.” His voice is casual, but as his gaze lingers on you for a fraction of a second longer, you feel the weight of everything left unsaid.

With that, Jungwon strides toward the door, his usual self-assured calm back in place. You watch him leave, but just as he reaches the exit, your phone buzzes in your hand. You glance down, your pulse quickening as you read the message from him:

“I have something you can change into in the back of the car.”

It’s simple, yet there’s something about it that makes your stomach flip. You glance up just in time to catch Jungwon’s silhouette disappearing down the hallway, feeling the tension of the moment linger in the air long after he’s gone.

The rest of your shift rolls by with its usual demands, and you brush off the incident from earlier, deciding against getting the change of clothes Jungwon offered. By the time you finally clock out, the sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the nearly empty parking lot. Just as you step out of the hospital doors, Jungwon’s car pulls up in front of the exit.

You feel a small smile tugging at your lips as you walk over and slip into the passenger seat. “Hey,” you greet him, but his focus remains straight ahead, his hands firm on the wheel, his paramedic uniform clinging to his form. The sight of him in that navy blue uniform, complete with the badge and patches, usually makes your heart race, but today his expression is unreadable. A flicker of surprise hits you. Jungwon, who is usually quick with a playful remark, doesn’t even turn his head as you settle in, leaving you feeling a bit deflated.

You tilt your head, watching him closely, noticing the slightest crease of annoyance in his brow. With a slight pout, you try breaking the ice, “So, how was your day?”

He answers, but his tone is clipped, barely more than a few words. "Busy. The usual."

You blink, feeling a hint of tension in the air. Normally, he’d be cracking jokes or filling the car with easy chatter, but now he’s focused on the road with a seriousness that feels almost uncharacteristic.

Leaning back in your seat, you give him a sideways glance. “Is this about the clothes?” you finally ask, crossing your arms as you look at him. “Are you upset I didn’t change into them?”

A quick denial. “No,” he says, a bit too fast, but still refusing to look your way.

You can’t help but smile a little, noticing his hands gripping the wheel tighter than usual. “Uh-huh. Doesn’t sound like you’re not upset,” you tease, leaning forward to get a better look at his face.

“I’m not upset,” he repeats, but he’s biting his lip, eyes fixed stubbornly ahead as if he’s hyper-focused on the road. His brow furrows, and he lets out a soft sigh.

“Come on, Jungwon, it’s cute when you sulk,” you say, your smile widening at the way his jaw clenches ever so slightly, revealing his irritation in the most subtle way.

This finally gets a reaction. He glances at you, his eyes narrowing just a little. “I’m not sulking,” he mumbles, but the denial lacks its usual conviction.

“You look pretty sulky to me,” you murmur, enjoying the rare moment of catching him off guard.

Just then, the car comes to a stop at a red light, and you glance over to find him holding a long breath, his expression somewhere between frustration and fondness. The tension in the air shifts slightly as he turns his gaze towards you, and in that moment, you feel the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

Without breaking eye contact, he places his right hand gently on your lap, rubbing small circles with his thumb. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting that familiar spark between you two. It’s a simple gesture, yet it feels so intimate, especially with the way he’s staring at you as if he’s trying to convey everything he can’t say out loud.

He resumes driving as the light turns green, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but his voice softens, a hint of vulnerability slipping through the usual bravado. “I’m not upset,” he assures you, though the sincerity behind his words hints at something deeper, something he’s wrestling with beneath the surface.

You can’t help but smile at him, the weight of his earlier mood lifting slightly. “Then what’s with the whole silent treatment? You know you can just tell me, right?”

Jungwon shakes his head, a faint smile creeping onto his face despite his mood.

“It’s more complicated than that,” he says, his voice maintaining a lightness that’s undercut by an earnest edge. “I don’t want to be the guy who gets all worked up over people assuming you and Niki are a thing.”

You bite your lip, the realization sinking in that his jealousy is more about their perceptions than the spilled coffee earlier.

“Well, I’m definitely not dating Niki,” you reply softly, trying to ease his tension. “He’s just a good coworker. You know that.”

He glances at you briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smile as he focuses back on the road.

“Good,” he mutters, his hand still gently rubbing your thigh, sending tingles coursing through you. The intimacy of the gesture makes your heart race.

He passes another intersection and accelerates, the car moving smoothly through the streets.

“But you know,” you continue, trying to keep the mood light, “if you were just a little quicker with your offer, I wouldn’t have to deal with all this teasing.”

Jungwon lets out a soft chuckle, the tension in the car easing slightly. “I thought I was quick enough,” he says, a playful tone returning to his voice. “How was I supposed to know you’d be so stubborn?”

“Stubborn? Me? Never,” you tease, rolling your eyes dramatically.

He shakes his head with a laugh, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh, a subtle reminder of the unspoken bond between you two. As he navigates the streets, the silence stretches comfortably, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of traffic.

“Hey, you should know,” you add after a moment, “if you want to make sure I’m not wearing Niki’s clothes, maybe you should just… keep me in yours.”

Jungwon raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Is that your way of saying you want me to dress you?”

“Maybe,” you reply coyly, biting your lip again, the playful banter making you feel bold.

He laughs, shaking his head as he pulls into a quiet parking lot. “You really know how to make me feel like I’m the jealous one, huh?”

“Just speaking the truth,” you say, leaning back into the seat, enjoying the rhythm of the moment.

As he turns off the engine, the atmosphere shifts slightly, the playful banter fading into a more intimate silence. Jungwon finally meets your gaze, his expression earnest. “Just so you know, it’s not about Niki. I just…” he trails off, searching for the right words. “I want to be the one you lean on, the one you trust.”

Your heart swells at his confession, a warmth spreading through you. “You are, Jungwon. You’re the one I always want to lean on.”

He smiles, a genuine light returning to his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right.

When you arrive at your apartment, Jungwon opens the door for you, the familiar scent of your space washing over you. As soon as you step inside, he follows closely behind, and before you can even set your bag down, he closes the door and turns to face you.

In an instant, the air between you shifts. Jungwon steps forward, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you closer. You barely have time to react before he captures your lips with his in a deep, passionate kiss that takes your breath away. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you and the electric tension that crackles in the air.

His lips move against yours with a fervor that surprises you, and you feel your heart racing, responding instinctively as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He deepens the kiss, his mouth coaxing yours open as he explores the sweetness of your taste. It’s intoxicating, and you lose yourself in the moment, your worries and doubts melting away.

In the midst of the kiss, he breaks away for just a moment, breathless and looking down at you with those soft eyes. “I can still smell the coffee,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You giggle, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, the reminder of the earlier incident making you giddy. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan for that to happen,” you reply, your voice teasing but breathless.

“Maybe I should get you a proper change of clothes next time,” he quips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. But then he adds, more seriously, “You should probably take those off; the smell will cling to you.”

His suggestion sends a thrill through you, and you find yourself biting your lip in excitement. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you want me to take them off?” you tease, your heart racing as you lean closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him.

He chuckles softly, but there’s a glint of something deeper in his eyes. “Okay, maybe it’s a little selfish,” he admits, his breath ghosting over your skin as he moves in even closer.

With a playful grin, you decide to indulge him. “Fine, but only if you do too,” you say, your fingers finding the buttons of his uniform. You start to unbutton it, your hands trembling slightly with anticipation. Each button that comes undone reveals more of his toned physique, and your breath hitches as you take in the sight of him.

As your fingers glide over the fabric, Jungwon watches you, his expression a mixture of desire and admiration. “You know, this might be the best idea you’ve ever had,” he murmurs, his voice low and enticing.

You finally push the uniform off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. In that moment, the playful atmosphere shifts into something more intimate. He captures your lips again, and you feel the heat between you both intensify as you pull away the last barriers that had been keeping you apart.

Just when you think it can't get any more intense, he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air. “I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he admits, his breath mingling with yours, creating a palpable tension that thrums in the air.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask, your voice teasing yet filled with warmth.

“You know I can’t let everyone find out I’m dating the hottest doctor in the hospital, or else…” he argues, a playful grin breaking through his earlier seriousness.

“Oh, please,” you bite back with a smirk, playfully nudging him. “Like they wouldn’t notice that the ‘sexiest and charming paramedic’ is completely smitten.”

With a smile that could light up the room, you lean in for another kiss, feeling the world around you fade away once again as you get lost in him.

[part one] [part three] [part four (prequel)]

[astrcmoni]

ᯓ☆ star’s midnight caller ☆ᯓ

MASTERLIST

☆ series masterpost: I II III

pairing: billie eilish x sex-hotline-operator!fem!reader

genre: fluff, smut(kinda)

synopsis: in the quiet of the night, you answer a call that pulls you into a world of mystery and intrigue. what starts as a simple conversation with a stranger turns into a connection you never expected, leaving you craving more with each ring.

wc: 2.4k

warnings: light cussing here and there

authors note: let me know what you guys think, i really liked writing this and i want to make a part two. also there’s no smut in this part but the concept of the hotline is sexual (idk if that made sense) anyways imma stop rambling byeee ☆

phone call style story — reader is in bold italics, billie is in blue italics.

————

wednesday 12:43 am — incoming call from +1 (980) 598-7201 (charlotte, NC)

“thanks so much, babygirl,” richard says from the other side of the phone, his voice soft, tinged with something like gratitude. “you always know what i need.”

richard is one of your regulars, calling at least twice a week. he likes to imagine that you’re his long-lost girlfriend, reaching out from some parallel universe. you let him ramble, your voice smooth and coaxing, playing into his fantasy like a script you know by heart. a light laugh here, a soft hum there, the occasional breathy moan when it fits the moment.

“anytime, boo,” you reply, fingers already grazing the disconnect button. “take care of yourself, okay?”

the line clicks off, leaving a brief silence that feels heavier than it should. you exhale, stretching your arms above your head as you try to shake off the remnants of his voice. just another call. just another night.

soft light spills through the corners of your room, golden and warm against the pale lavender of your walls. the curtains billow lazily, carried by a breeze that whispers through the cracked window. outside, the city hums—a distant siren wailing, cars rolling down the street below, someone leaning on their horn too long, too loud.

at your desk, you lean forward, catching your reflection in the mirror perched precariously against a stack of books. sticky lip gloss catches the lamplight, glinting like glass. your lashes look decent—lifted enough to remind you of your own femininity. normally, you wouldn’t bother. no one can see you, after all. but it helps, this small ritual. it’s armor in a way, a mask you slip behind before stepping into this role.

“alright,” you mutter, rolling your neck to release the tension settling in your shoulders. “one more call and i’m done.”

the surface beneath your elbows is cluttered—textbooks splayed open, scribbled lab reports fighting for space with overdue bills. it’s not glamorous, but it pays. and it’s enough, for now.

you adjust your headset, letting the padded cups press comfortably against your ears, and clear your throat. the practiced warmth creeps back into your voice as the phone chimes again, flashing another number across the screen.

wednesday 12:49 am — incoming call from +1 (310) 807-3956 (los angeles, california)

“hello, and thank you for calling the pulse network. this is star speaking.” your voice drops an octave, soft and inviting, the words sliding out like honey. “who do i have the pleasure of speaking with tonight?”

there’s a pause on the other end—static filling the silence like a breath held too long. then, a voice cuts through, low, smooth, and distinctly feminine.

“uh…hi?” she sounds hesitant, her voice fraying at the edges like she’s second-guessing herself. “is this…is this a-uh…hotline for…you know?”

your brows knit for a moment before relaxing. most callers know exactly what they want, their voices heavy with intent. but her hesitation feels different. delicate, almost.

“that depends,” you say, leaning forward slightly, your tone light and playful. “what are you looking for, my love?”

she exhales sharply, and you can hear the faint sound of movement—like she’s pacing, the rhythm of her footsteps soft and uneven.

“honestly?” she says after a beat, her voice quieter now. “i don’t even know why i called. jus’ bored, i guess. curious. didn’t think this would even work.”

a smile tugs at your lips, though you bite it back. calls like these are rare, but you don’t mind them. there’s something refreshing about the uncertainty, the lack of pretense.

“well,” you murmur, letting your voice wrap around the words like a velvet ribbon, “we’re here now. go ahead, tell me whatever’s on your mind. no pressure.”

there’s a pause, long enough that you glance at the timer on the screen, wondering if she’s about to hang up. but then she sighs again, the sound softer this time, like she’s giving in.

“is it weird that i’m calling?” she asks, her voice dipping into the quiet like it’s unsure of its place.

“no judgment here, love. everyone has their reasons.” your response is soft, easy, laced with practiced charm. but something about her feels different.

“i don’t even know mine.”

the line falls into silence again, thick and heavy, broken only by the sound of her breathing—steady, almost meditative. it’s the kind of silence that feels like it’s waiting for you to fill it, but instead, you let it linger, listening.

“what’s your name?”

you blink, caught off guard. most callers don’t ask that unless it’s part of the fantasy they’re crafting. most don’t care to know.

“well, what do you want it to be?” you counter, your voice tipping into something playful.

she laughs softly, the sound low and throaty, curling through the line like smoke. “no, that’s not what i asked. i wanna know your name.”

there’s a pause as you weigh her words, the sincerity behind them.

“star,” you say finally, keeping it professional, your tone steady. “you can call me star.”

“what’s your real name?”

her question lands heavier than it should. it’s not forceful, not even intrusive. just curious. like she’s asking for a story rather than a fact.

you hesitate, fingers tracing the edge of your desk absentmindedly. something about her voice makes you want to give in, but you push the temptation aside, slipping easily into deflection.

“you know, most people don’t ask me that,” you murmur. “they usually want to know what i look like, what i’m wearing. things like that.”

“guess i’m not most people, then.”

“come on, you’re telling me you’re not even a little curious?”

she chuckles, warm and low, the kind of laugh that sticks in your chest. “okay, i’ll bite. what are you wearing, star?”

you smirk, leaning back in your chair as the city hums faintly through the open window.

“blue and black pajamas” you reply, your tone light. “lace trim. very cute, if i do say so myself.”

“where’d you get it?”

“some victoria’s secret around my city. they were having a sale.”

“cute.” her voice dips, carrying a hint of a smile. “now, back to my question.”

you roll your eyes, though there’s no edge to it. she’s persistent, you’ll give her that.

“you’re just gonna have to call me star. can’t give you my name. not tonight, sorry sweetheart.”

“no, it’s okay.” she pauses, then repeats it, like she’s trying it on. “well, star.” there’s something deliberate about the way she says it, slow and careful, testing its weight. “i’m billie.”

her name sits soft and sure in the air, settling between you like it belongs.

“you seem like a billie.”

“do i?”

“mhm,” you hum, leaning forward against the desk. “so, billie. what do you want to talk about?”

“hmm.” she draws the sound out thoughtfully, the silence stretching just long enough to make you wonder if she’ll answer. “why do you do this?”

the question hits you in a way you don’t expect, cutting through the usual rhythm of calls. most people don’t ask—don’t even think to ask.

you consider lying, giving her something easy, but the weight of her question lingers, tugging at the edges of your honesty.

“it pays the bills,” you admit finally, your voice soft. “and it’s not as bad as people think. i meet some…very…interesting people.”

“like me?”

the corner of your mouth quirks up, her words pulling at something playful in you.

“you tell me. are you interesting?”

“guess that depends.” she pauses, her voice curling with quiet amusement. “you think i’m interesting so far?”

“so far? i’ll give you a solid maybe.”

her laughter spills through the line, warm and unexpected, and it lingers in your room long after it fades.

“oh really? how long have you been doing this?”

“for about…” you pause, eyes flicking up to the ceiling like the answer might be scrawled there. “for about a little over a year now.”

“damn. that’s a long ass time.”

you chuckle, the sound warm and easy. “it is, isn’t it? i don’t know, i don’t mind it though. all i do is answer the phone. sometimes i do schoolwork, cook—small things like that. not like i necessarily have to be fully present for it, as long as i’m paying attention, you know?”

“you’re in school? just exactly how old are you?”

“wait—before we continue, you’re aware it’s a dollar seventy-five per minute, right?”

“uhh, i wasn’t, but i don’t mind it.”

“ooh, so you’re rich then?”

she laughs, a low, honeyed sound that settles in your chest. “i wouldn’t say that. i’d say i’m… comfortable.”

“only rich people say they’re comfortable. but to answer your question, i’m twenty, in my junior year. babe, you?”

“okay, not bad. i’m twenty-three. though i did think you were much older.”

you snort, rolling your eyes even though she can’t see it. “not bad? we’re practically the same age.”

“mm, i got about three years on you, so… no,” she laughs, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. “what are you majoring in?”

“criminology. mainly forensics and things like that.”

“that’s so fucking cool. so you’re like those people on tv who examine bodies and shit?”

“yeah, but doing it in real life is way different than it looks on tv.” you close your eyes, the memory of your first dissection flashing briefly. “especially lab work. but you get used to it after a while.”

“still, that’s badass. you must be super smart.”

the compliment catches you off guard, heat crawling up your neck. “i guess you could say that,” you mutter, a quiet smile tugging at your lips.

the conversation flows easier after that, like water finding its way downhill. you don’t even realize when you’ve moved to your bed, your headset cast aside as her voice fills your room through the speaker.

she asks you everything—your favorite movies, the hobbies that keep you up at night, the kind of music that makes your soul hum. the questions are simple but intimate, slipping past your usual defenses like she’s known you for years.

and you answer her. honestly, without hesitation. there’s something about her voice, warm and unhurried, that pulls the truth out of you.

you find yourself smiling, more than you have in days, fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair as you lean into the sound of her. it feels oddly intimate—like a late-night call with someone who’s already carved out a space in your life.

“so,” she asks after a lull, her voice soft but curious, “what’s your favorite movie?”

you grin, closing your eyes as you let the answer roll off your tongue. “pulp fiction. it’s a classic, don’t judge me.”

“no judgment. i respect it. but you gotta admit, it’s a little basic.”

“oh, and you’re not basic? let me guess—you’re gonna say something artsy like ‘a clockwork orange’ or whatever.”

“wrong. mine’s ‘the shining.’”

“oh, so you’re a horror girl. noted.”

she laughs, the sound warm and easy, and you realize you don’t want the conversation to end. not yet. not with her voice lingering in your room like this.

“what about you?” you murmur, breaking the soft rhythm of silence that had settled between you.

“hm? what about me?” her voice lilts, curious but guarded.

“what do you do? like for work?”

there’s a pause, long enough that you wonder if she’s going to sidestep the question entirely. but then she exhales, the sound quiet, like she’s carefully letting something go.

“i’m a musician,” she says finally, her words tentative, like they might break if handled too roughly. “or i guess i was… i teach music now.”

her admission catches you off guard, a flicker of something vulnerable passing through the connection. but you don’t press her, sensing that whatever she’s offering is enough for now. instead, you let the conversation drift, carried by the quiet ebb and flow of her voice.

the hours blur like watercolors, the world outside fading until there’s only her.

eventually, her tone softens, the edges of her words rounding with sleep. “it’s getting late. i should let you go,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

you glance at the alarm clock on the wall, the soft red digits blinking 3:35 a.m. back at you. exhaustion tugs at you, but the thought of ending the call feels heavier than it should.

“but…” her hesitation pulls you back to her. “can i call you again? i had a really good time.”

your heart stumbles over itself, a small hitch in your chest. “yeah, of course you can.” your voice dips into something softer, something closer to truth. “i had a good time too.”

“great. goodnight, star.” there’s a smile in her voice, light and unguarded, and it lingers in the air even after she’s gone.

“goodnight, billie.”

the line goes quiet, and for a moment, you sit there, the warmth of her voice still brushing against you like an afterglow.

you slip off your bed, padding into the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. the cool water shocks your skin, but it doesn’t chase away the heat curling low in your stomach.

when you return to your room, the lamp clicks off with a soft snap, plunging the space into shadows broken only by the shifting colors of your tv. you slide under the covers, the faint hum of a late-night rerun filling the silence. the images blur on the screen, but all you can think about is her voice, the way it clung to the edges of the night, soft and sure.

a ding pulls you from your thoughts. your phone glows faintly on the nightstand, and you reach for it, the sudden brightness making you blink.

new transactions — 4:03 a.m.

+1 (254) 783-0184 (dallas, TX) - $26.25

+1 (980) 598-7201 (charlotte, NC) - $43.75

+1 (310) 807-3956 (los angeles, CA) - $315.62

you smile, the corners of your lips twitching up involuntarily. it’s nothing unusual, but tonight it feels different, lighter somehow. you turn the screen off and set the phone back down, a quiet sense of contentment settling over you.

for the first time in a long time, you find yourself looking forward to your next call.

inspired by @whore-era

astrc’s tag list: @zendayasredbottoms @bilsdillldough @billiesrighthand @watercolorskyy @bilssturns ; hit my asks saying “add to taglist” if you want to be on my regular taglist for all billie content!

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 3

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy, seizures and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lizzie’s books were doorstoppers. Literally. So thick that Lando just about managed to shove all three of them into his backpack…and nearly broke the zipper while doing that.

He just hoped that him buying these books wasn’t gonna show up on social media any time soon but he didn’t have much trust in that.

He could already imagine the field day that people would have with seeing him of all people buying romance and fantasy books. (Or romantasy as Lizzie had called them…)

The cashier at the bookstore had checked him out with a slightly puzzled look, and she almost seemed to be holding back a grin.

And it wasn’t like Lando hadn’t already started listening to the dramatised audiobook version either…he just figured he should have options, y‘know? 

Especially when that Ciaran guy with the wings was voiced by some Scottish bloke with a voice like gravel. Meanwhile, Astrid had the lilting accent of Wales in her voice… and then there was the fact that some of the…scenes sounded rather… they were definitely not appropriate for…company.

Still he thought that he could probably listen to another few hours of that on the flight…or he would just like…skip…the…some of the stuff that Lizzie had apparently written and that made him think about things that he probably shouldn’t be thinking about…especially not with a Race coming up and the fact that the girl he had gone on two dates with was an ocean away. 

Still, thank god for private flights. It was just gonna be him and Oscar and Max, who would come along to Miami.

Maybe Lando should have known that it was a bad idea. He had imagined it so easily. Put on head phones, put on the audiobook and zone out for a little while…

Instead Lando managed to not actually pair his headphones with his phone… And seconds later his phone was blaring “A Spring of Secrets and Thorns” for Oscar and Max to hear, including a particular… intimate scene he had reached…

His wings spread wide as he pulled her closer, the heat of his body enveloping hers as they shared a heated kiss. Ciaran’s hand traced the curve of Astrid’s back, his wings brushing her skin as the tension between them grew unbearable…

Oscar and Max simultaneously turned their heads toward Lando, eyes wide, their expressions somewhere between shock and amusement.

Oscar's eyebrows were raised so high, they almost touched his hairline. He looked like he was barely holding back a fit of laughter. Even Max looked amused.

Lando just slumped back in his seat, feeling his face grow hot. He didn't need a mirror to know that he was turning bright red. He fumbled with his phone, desperately trying to turn it off.

“What the hell is that?” Max finally choked out.

“Are you listening to racy audiobooks now?” Oscar demanded.

Lando's fingers finally closed around the power button on his phone, cutting off the sound. He avoided their eyes, knowing he looked guilty as hell.

"It's nothing," he mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant.

Oscar just burst out laughing. "Oh yeah? Sounded like it was definitely something, mate."

Lando felt like he could melt into the seat, his face practically glowing.

“Wait,” Oscar said suddenly. “I think I know that book. Is that the Astrid and Ciaran book? Lily’s been going on about it for months. That’s her favorite series. I didn’t know you were a romance guy, Lando.”

Lando's eyes widened in horror. Of course, Oscar would know what book it was. There nearly never ended a day without Oscar being texted by his girlfriend about whatever new book Lily was currently reading. 

"I am definitely not a romance guy," he protested, trying to save what little dignity he had left.

But Max was grinning now, clearly enjoying the situation. "Oh, so you just happen to have a romance/fantasy book on your phone for... for what reason, exactly?" his best friend asked him, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“It’s Lizzie’s favourite,” he blurted out. “I just wanted to see what the fuss is about.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was..well. He wasn’t about to tell Oscar and Max that Lizzie was the actual author of that book series…he would probably neer live down the teasing for reasding her books then…though now that Lando was thinking about it, he wasn’t quite sure that telling them that he was reading her favourite books was much better. 

“Lizzie?” Oscar asked curiously.

“Hasn’t Lando told you? He finally managed to ask out the cafe girl,"Max said drily. “You know the one he has been crushing on for months.”

Max's words hung in the air for a moment, and Lando shot him a poisonous look. Max just smirked back like the cocky bastard he was, clearly enjoying throwing Lando under the bus.

Oscar looked surprised, eyes wide as he turned his gaze to Lando. "Wait, seriously? You managed to ask her out?"

Lando sighed, knowing there was no going back now. He should’ve known better than to let Max in on his relationship with Lizzie in the first place. And now, of course he would go and blurt it out in front of Oscar. “Yeah, I did, okay?” he admitted, though his tone was defensive.

“Finally,” Oscar said with a shake of his head. “It was getting depressing.”

Lando shot him a glare but didn’t argue. 

Max was, predictably, trying not laugh.  “It was kind of pathetic,” he said with a grin.

“Piss off, both of you,” Lando grumbled. “I didn’t know what to say to her, alright? It’s complicated.” Lando defended himself.

“Mate, you spent three months buying pastries you didn’t even like in a cafe so you could stare at a random girl. That’s not complicated, that’s obsessive. And then you pawned off said pastries to every poor unsuspecting McLaren engineer you could find,” Oscar said with a laugh.

“Lando, please tell me you didn’t actually do that?” Max asked, sounding like he was holding back a laugh.

Lando felt his face grow hotter. He’d hoped Oscar wouldn’t mention that particular fact.

“I mean …” he hedged, but a look from Oscar shut him up real fast.  “Okay, yeah, maybe I did,” he admitted, reluctantly. “But it’s not that big a deal, alright?”

“How did you even finally manage to ask her out?” Oscar asked with an unbelieving laugh. “You did ask her out, right? You didn’t like…stalk her and found out her favourite book some other way?”

“Of course, I asked her out, you jerk,” Lando shot back, feeling his embarrassment turn into irritation. “And no, I didn’t stalk her. I just asked her.”

Max laughed, clearly still finding this whole thing highly amusing. “Her dog finally took pity of him,” he quipped to Oscar. “She got a service dog that alerted to Lando, then he somehow managed to get her number. How was that dinner by the way?”

He could feel his cheeks heating up again as Max reminded him of that part.

“It was…nice,” he muttered, hoping they would move on from the topic.

Oscar was watching him with an amused gleam in his eyes. “And now you are trying to impress her even further by reading books you would normally never touch?” he teased.

Lando huffed. “It’s not like that,” he said defensively. “I’m just…trying new things. Broadening my horizons.”

“Reading romance books is broadening your horizons?” Max asked, clearly trying not to laugh again. “That’s a new one.”

Lando gritted his teeth, his temper flaring. He knew they were just winding him up, but it was starting to get annoying. “You know what, forget it,” he snapped.

“Fine by me,” Oscar said, still grinning like the bastard he was. “But I’ve got a feeling that you’re gonna get hooked on those books.”

Lando rolled his eyes but didn't respond. He had no intention of telling them that he was already a fourth of the way into the first book…and that actually, he really wanted to know what happened between Ciaran and Astrid. And what the heck was going on with Quinn? He didn’t trust that guy at all…

“And who knows,” Oscar continued. “Maybe reading all those romance books will help you woo your cafe girl. You know when the dog needed to help you ask her out…”

“Don’t you dare say a thing about Mara,” Lando snapped. “She’s a wonder dog! Do you know how important service dogs are for people with epilepsy?”

Oscar stared at him, blinking twice, clearly surprised by his outburst. 

“No need to be so touchy about it,” Max said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But still, you’re a world-class racing driver, and a Labrador had more game than you,” he teased, clearly enjoying Lando’s increasing irritation.

“She has epilepsy?” Oscar asked curiously. “One of my mates from boarding school has that.”

Lando nodded, his irritation easing slightly. “Yeah,” he said, trying to rein in his earlier irritation. “She can have seizures without warning. They can be really bad, so the dog is trained to let her know when one is coming...She had another seizure a day before we were supposed to go out to dinner, so we had dinner at her home instead."

Oscar grimaced in sympathy. "That sucks, man," he said sincerely. "Is she doing alright, though?"

Lando nodded. "Yeah, she's doing fine now," he said, his tone noticeably softer. "They just leave her feeling like garbage, but she's mostly fine. It's just...it freaks me out, you know," he said with a grimace. "She can't control her seizures obviously, but they leave her feeling so shitty and there is nothing that I or anybody else can do to make her feel better."

“Sounds pretty rough,” Max said, now sounding sincere as well. “But it’s nice that she has a service dog,” he added, nodding at Lando. “That’s gotta help.”

Oscar watched him with an unreadable expression on his face. "Don't bite off my head, alright?" He said carefully. "But...have you thought about what that is going to mean in your relationship going forward? She will always have epilepsy, Lando. That's not going to be an illness she will ever grow out of or get healed from. Even when they find a medication that makes her mostly seizure free...she will still always have it. Will you be able to deal with that?"

Lando tensed at the question. He had thought about it before, of course, how could he not? "It's not like I'm going to dump her because she has epilepsy," he snapped, though there was a hint of defensiveness in his voice. "I'm not an arsehole."

"That's not what I meant," Oscar said drily. "I mean, that she is probably not going to come along with you on one of your night clubs night outs, with flashing lights and plenty of alcohol. She's also not one of the random super model girlfriends that you date for three weeks and then dump and never talk to again."

Lando bristled at the mention of his "supermodel girlfriends", but he knew there was truth to what Oscar was saying. Lizzie was different, and he had known that from the start.

"I know that," he said, his tone a little bit more defensive than he intended it to be. "I'm not an idiot. I know this is different than what I'm used to. But it's not like she can't go anywhere just because of her epilepsy. She can still have fun."

"Yeah, she totally can," Max agreed. "And I'm pretty sure no one is saying that she can't, man."

Oscar nodded in agreement. "Of course she can, I'm not questioning that. But what I'm trying to say is...if this is going to become serious, do you think that you can deal with it? It's not just going to be the epilepsy, I know that. She's going to have other issues and problems and things that are going to affect both of you. Are you going to be alright with that?"

Lando exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. He knew they weren't trying to be assholes, but they were throwing a lot of hard questions at him.

"I don't know," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I've never had anything like this before. But...I like her, alright? Like, a lot. And it feels different...and like...like it's going to be worth it. Nothing that is worth fighting for is going to come to you easy," he said seriously. "I am not afraid of a challenge."

Oscar and Max were quiet for a moment, both of them looking at him with expressions of surprise and respect respectively. They clearly hadn’t expected him to express himself in that way.

“Damn, mate,” Oscar said finally. “Who are you and what have you done with Lando Norris?”

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the hint of a smile that curled at the corners of his lips. “Piss off, the both of you,” he said, though his words lacked any real heat.

Max snickered a little. “Okay, we’re going to let you continue listening to your racy audiobooks now.”

"Maybe I should actually read them too," Oscar said thoughtfully. "I mean, Lily loves them."

"Want the hardcovers?" Lando asked, rummaging through his backpack to throw them in Oscar's direction. "Knock yourself out."

Oscar caught the books and looked at them with a look of amusement. Then he gave Lando a smirk. "You sure you are not secretly a fangirl, Norris?"

Lando rolled his eyes again. "Shut up."

"It's even the special edition with sprayed edges," Oscar teased.

"The internet would just love a picture of the two of you reading romance books," Max said drily.

"Go and text Pietra and I bet you that she has heard of these books as well," Oscar said drily. "Seasons of Fate is seemingly what every women between the ages of 20 and 30 is reading right now."

[shawnxstyles]

panty stealer 2

DATE: JULY 12, 2023

summary: after the forbidden and surprising night of the ‘break-in’, you couldn’t get your mind off of peter. luckily, he couldn’t either, and finds his way back into your bedroom to invite you to a party.

requested: so many times yes!

words: 11.2k!! woah

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, slight oral, masturbation, vibrator], praise kink, degrading kink, slight exhibitionism, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, mentions of marjuana/alcohol, and fluff

note: this was the most anticipated and loved of all my writings! i’m so thankful for everyone who liked part 1, i just had to write a part 2. enjoy!!! sorry if the gif is all weird again

—

so many thoughts flew through peter’s mind as he swung through the streets of massachusetts: what homework or projects he might have, you, class, praying flash doesn’t do anything stupid while he’s gone, you, hoping ned doesn’t have a panic attack from flash’s idiocy, and you you you.

he thought of your body and the way it felt underneath him while he pushed himself deep inside of you. and the whimpers you let out as you came. and the sound of your laughter through the palm of your hand. and the smile on your face as he kissed your forehead. he wished he had kissed you longer. he wished he had stayed longer. forever.

was that dramatic? maybe.

you were a recurring thought that never seemed to cease from his brain.

peter sees you around school sometimes—only on the days you two have class together. neither of you made an effort to approach the other, almost as if you expected the other person to do it first. you both sat far apart from each other, too afraid to move seats around and make it obvious. but peter’s gaze fell heavily over your shoulder too many times for you to not feel it.

every time you shifted around to face the back of the room, you watched him avert his wandering eyes to anywhere but you. it made you smile and giggle quietly behind your hand, and of course peter’s hearing picked up on the angelic sounds, causing his heart to skip against his ribs.

and then class would begin and you’d have to wait until next class to see him again.

peter wanted to go see you—talk to you. he really did. but he was so busy with school work and being spider-man that he didn’t have a night off. mid-terms were coming up, but that also meant thanksgiving break was in the rear view mirror. after halloween of course.

in college, halloween was like any other day. you didn’t get a day off to trick-or-treat and hang out with your friends. instead, you were given a pile of tests the week before.

not much of a treat, huh?

outside of college, however, people threw the best parties that night. one of those people obviously being peter. luckily, halloween was on a saturday, so everyone would be done with mid-terms and ready to party their asses off.

flash needed everyone and their mom to come for him to be satisfied (well, maybe not their moms). he’s going to blow up everyone’s phone telling them to invite every person they know. peter didn’t care who showed up. he knows that halloween is one of the biggest parties of the year (besides fourth of july). peter only wanted—no needed—one person to be there.

—

knowing it’s been weeks since he’s seen you and the party was only in a few days, peter had to come and see you. he had to make sure you got the invite. it was difficult to fit visiting you into his schedule, but like always, he made it work.

you were becoming important to him, a priority.

he would only be in and out because who knows what would happen if peter was caught in there? last time, flash got his car hit with a baseball bat. flash was so mad that he completely forgot about peter’s dare, even though it was the whole point of sneaking into the house. it was deserved, but peter didn’t want any of that happening to him. so, peter promised himself no funny business unless you were in his room.

ugh, but peter really didn’t want you around the frat boys. they were way too much.

the sky was pitch black besides the hint of stars that were sprinkled in the sky. it was a chilly, fall night that made peter want to cozy up and pass out in his bed. but he had more important things to do first.

after a boring night of patrol, peter sneaks into his room through his opened window. without making too much noise (unlike flash), he quietly changes out of his suit and packs it into his closet in a box labeled books. peter is certain that no one, especially flash, would ever open that box. so he fixes his appearance by adjusting his shirt in the mirror, checking his teeth, and messing with his wild hair. on impulse, he throws on a cap to better hide himself. with that, he jumps out his window once again, shutting it closed on his way down with his sticky fingers.

like he’s done once before, peter sneaks across the street to the forbidden sorority house. he stares at the windows; all darkened bedrooms, except for one. peter wasn’t one hundred percent sure that that single lit bedroom was yours, but he was willing to test his luck.

for you.

peering at his surroundings, peter flips his hat backwards and slowly crawls up the side of the house. his fingers latch onto the windowsill as he very slowly lifts his head over it. he notices that it’s slightly cracked open before his gaze is seering through the glass.

you have got to be fucking joking.

your body lays sprawled across your bed as a delicate hand wanders between your parted legs and slides your infamous panties to the side. your torso is covered in the same mit t-shirt from that night, draped over your lavish figure tantalizingly. a laptop plays a pornographic scene of some sort, headphones plugged in one ear.

god, he wanted to touch you so bad.

he wondered if you were thinking of him. recalling how his fingers caressed down your body and how they touched every inch of your skin. but you couldn’t be, right? it’s been weeks and peter hasn’t made a move. you’ve probably moved on from that night like nothing happened. peter should probably go, leave you alone during such an intimate time—

“mm, peter,” your angelic voice hums a quiet moan that was only loud enough for peter’s hearing. peter feels his cock twitch needily at your noises, hissing to himself as you whimper his name. “feels so good.”

well, that’s just like a goddamn invite.

using every skill he has learned from being spider-man, peter yanks open the window and creeps inside. you were too emerged in your fantasies; eyes screwed closed as you listened attentively to the ongoing video. you failed to notice peter’s looming presence over your bed, even with only one headphone in. your noises continued, spurring peter’s next actions on.

without saying a word, peter lays his hand over yours, which is rubbing cute circles over your clit. your movements freeze and your eyes fly open. your mind doesn’t register the sight before you, so your breathing stops and your lungs get ready to scream out every millimeter of oxygen in you. but peter slips his other hand over your mouth before you could alert the entire neighborhood of his presence.

peter could sense the erratic beating of your heart as your tense muscles very gradually soften once you realize it’s him. once you’ve calmed down enough to not scream, you take your free hand and lower peter’s from your mouth.

he came back.

“p-peter, i didn't know you were coming,” you weren't sure what to say. your mind was still spinning like a top toy and your heart was beating like a galloping horse. your skin was burning underneath him, full of embarrassment and immense desire. “a head’s up would have been nice…”

“i’m sorry for the interruption…” peter says, eyes dragging down your body. his hand moves above yours gradually. you inhale sharply as peter guides your hand.

“you don’t seem sorry,” you retaliate as the friction from your hand with the help of peter’s begins to rile your body up again. you feel the wetness seep from your cunt, aching and needy for more. for more of him.

“how come you’re so wet?” peter completely ignores you, and removes your hand from your pussy with a gentle toss. peter didn’t expect anything tonight, but he especially didn’t expect to find his little angel with her hands between her legs. you gasp when his fingers are directly touching you, instantly clenching around nothing. his fingers are a bit chilly, in contrast to your flamy skin. “is it from the video?”

“n-no,” you stutter between needy pants as his fingers threaten to sink into your pulsing hole. your legs spread wider for him, inviting him closer to you. you slam the laptop down with shaky fingers to show him that you no longer need it.

“then what’s got you so wet?” two fingers dip into your cunt to persuade you to talk, but it’s doing the opposite. you bite your lip to hide the traitorous moan that threatens to escape. heavy arousal coats your labia while he pumps in and out of you easily, waiting for an answer.

“i was thinking of you,” you admit, hips rolling into his touch greedily. “wondering if you’d ever come back.”

peter’s heart saddens at the thought of you waiting for him. this whole time peter assumed you forgot about him, when in reality, it was the exact opposite. and there was sticky evidence to prove it.

“i’m right here, angel. what were you thinking about?” his body leans down hovering over yours, causing your body to sink into the mattress.

“thought about you climbing through the window, just like you did. imagined you’d fuck me, like you promised,” you moan quietly between words, trying to sound cohesive. hearing you say such vulgar words has peter’s cock twitching in his pants. with peter, you weren’t afraid to be straight to the point and tell him what you want. peter admired that, and would probably do anything you asked him to.

“with time, i’m a man of my word, baby.”

close and personal, peter interlocks his lips with yours. your frolicking hands drift to his warm neck, caressing the nape as you melt into him. peter inserts a third finger into you, eliciting a muffled moan against his lips. the action opens up your mouth and allows peter to effortlessly glide his tongue inside.

his fingers ram into you at a deliriously fast pace, causing your mind to haze into a euphoric state. it was impressive how peter could be kissing you unforgettably, but also skillfully pleasuring you with his hands. peter seemed like a man full of secrets and skills that you were dying to know.

who is peter parker?

fogging up your mind, your muscles tense and your back continues to arch until your stomach is touching his. your legs threaten to close from the overwhelming pleasure from his fingers, but you battle to keep them wide. his mouth trails down your neck and attacks the sensitive skin below your ear. teeth digging into your lip, you withhold all of your noises that peter so desperately wants to hear.

“if we were alone, you wouldn’t be allowed to be quiet,” he husks in your ear before trailing further down your neck. his voice was every level of attractive, pushing you closer to the edge. peter continued to check off all of your invisible boxes of turn ons.

“i know,” your voice was delicate and strained, and peter could tell you were close.

your walls gripped his fingers eagerly, and your stomach tightened up. it was embarrassing that you were so close so fast, but you couldn’t hold it any longer. once his fingers curled one last time inside of you, you were a goner.

“come for me, baby,” he demanded quietly, so you did.

your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, drenched in blissful euphoria. peter worked you through your high by softly rubbing your legs and coaxing every last drop out of you until you were sensitive to the touch.

without having to ask, peter lowers himself to your mound and yanks your panties down and off your legs. he then cleans up your mess with his skillful tongue, licking and slurping all of your juices. your sensitivity causes you to be squirmy, but he’s done before you know it and then you’re left reminiscing.

although he was right in front of you, you missed his touch already. you missed him inside of you because it made you feel connected, intertwined. you didn’t want him to leave you again for weeks and come back on a random week day. or even worse, never again at all. you hoped that it didn’t become a pattern because you were getting attached to him, whether you liked it or not (you did), and that wasn’t a healthy pattern to be attached to.

peter’s body hovers over yours once again, held up by his muscular arms. your eyes attach to every detail on his face, admiring and memorizing his features in fear that he’ll leave again. he gazes at you like a living daydream, ethereal underneath him. one of his hands caresses your supple cheek, lightly swiping away your frisky hair. you practically purr into his touch, melting at his gentleness.

“peter,” you start, voice as fragile as thin glass.

“y/n.”

“please, don’t leave,” you insist in a whisper, hoping he’d stay. but you know he can’t.

“you know i can’t,” he says as you begin to sit up. see?

“when will i see you again? you can’t just… show up at any time,” you huff, sitting up straight as peter takes a seat beside you.

“i know i know…” peter thinks for a moment before reaching into his pocket. “here. you can put your number in my phone.”

your heart skips a simple beat. you extend your arm to snatch your phone on your nightstand before hesitatingly grabbing peter’s. you switch devices and enter your numbers. you label your name as ‘y/n :)’ and then you trade back phones, but don’t look at them.

“c’mere,” peter says and you curl your body into his. his warmth was addicting and cozy, and could easily make a great pillow for the future. “i’m sorry for not coming back sooner. i’ve been pretty busy with… everything i guess. i should’ve told you.” with your head cradled in his chest, he kisses your rumpled hair genuinely.

a sweet apology. could he get any better? is he just a figment of my imagination?

you lift up your head so you could see him looking down on you. “apology accepted, parker. but i feel like i’m being manipulated with your kisses.”

“how was i supposed to know you’re a sucker for forehead kisses?”

“everyone is a sucker for forehead kisses!” you whisper yell causing him to laugh wholeheartedly as quiet as possible. he kisses your head a few more times, making your heart full of affection and care.

how did you get lucky enough for peter parker to fall into your life? or more specifically, break into your house on two accounts?

“you never fulfilled your promise,” you said, referring to him having sex with you. don’t misunderstand, you were very grateful for what he gave you, but to be direct… you were greedy, needy, and missed his dick.

no time for beating around the bush.

“like i said, with time, i’m a man of my word,” which, in other words, means he’s not having sex with you. tonight, at least. you can’t help the small frown that appears on your lips.

“how much time? a girl has needs, you know,” you rose your eyebrows and pointed towards the closed laptop. peter puffed under his breath, causing you to smirk.

“there is a party this saturday… at my place. you should come,” peter informs.

“should i come or do you want me to come?” it was a test.

“if this is some sexual innuendo, yes—”

“jeez, get your mind out of the gutter, peter!” you roll your eyes and softly shove his chest, but a smile never ceases from your face. that only causes him to wrap his arms around you and squeeze you harder against his firm body.

he must live at the gym.

“you started talking about sex first!”

he’s not wrong.

“of course, i want you to come to the party, y/n,” peter smiles as his eyes wandering over every inch of your face. in any other scenario, gorging eyes would’ve made you feel insecure, but peter’s made you feel all flushed and tingly. “you’re the only person i want to be there.”

your smile enlarges even more and a rush of heat crawls up your neck. instead of kissing his lips for being such a romantic goofball, you decide to pull off his backward cap and kiss his forehead. the rosy blush that cascades his pale cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed.

“see! everyone likes forehead kisses!”

just as you say those words, peter hears footsteps padding across the hallway. he really didn’t want to leave you again, but he also really didn’t want to get caught. he sighs and you notice his change of demeanor, causing another frown to arise on your lips.

“you have to go, don’t you?”

“i’m sorry—”

“it’s okay. i’m glad you came. i’ll see you on saturday,” you smile genuinely and kiss his forehead again. he smiles, but catches your luscious lips instead. peter almost forgot about the footsteps, always lost in the moment with you.

he is obsessed with kissing you.

however, the moment is too short for both of your liking. peter struggles to pull himself away from you, but does because each footstep in the hallway is like a warning. with a finally kiss to your forehead, peter smiles endearingly before approaching your window, ready to jump out.

“oh, and peter?” as his hands are on the window, he turns around to look at you. “don’t forget these.”

you fling your panties at him and his quick reflexes have no problem catching them. you take his hat that he left on your bed and lay it on top of your head. peter cannot describe the fond feeling that bubbles up in his chest at the sight of you in his apparel. he’s sure he would die seeing you in his clothes if he’s starstruck from you in his cap.

a familiar heated flush blossoms on his cheeks as he lightly shakes his head with a few chuckles.

“you’re ridiculously cute,” is the last thing he says before he slides out the window and jumps down onto the ground.

ridiculously cute. you’ve never been called that before. are you surprised that you like it a lot? nope.

you still don’t understand how he doesn’t break a few limbs from jumping out of a two-story house, but again, that’s just one of the many things he’s skillful at. you wondered what else he was capable of. like you said, he seemed like a man full of secrets. some people thought of curiosity as a curse, but you saw it as a pathway to unknown opportunities.

not even a minute after peter left, there’s a knock at your bedroom door. you answer, skeptical, and one of your friends walks in.

“i know we’re not allowed to have any guys here, so you get kind of lonely, but when you’re watching porn at midnight can you please turn it down? i could hear it at the end of the hall,” she rubs her eyes and elicits a yawn. your eyes widen and you swallow thickly at the idea of the entire house hearing you.

you really thought you did a good job at being quiet…

“uh, yeah, sure thing,” you half smile as you apologize and wish her a better goodnight. you flick your lamp off and shift comfortably on your bed.

you gaze at the ceiling and imagine peter’s face above yours. you envisioned his lips, his cute nose, and each precious beauty mark on his face. it was easier to fall asleep knowing what his phone number was, and that saturday was only three days away.

—

those three days could not have been longer. the party was your motivation to wake up every day and go to class, eager as ever. you only saw peter once at school and that was not enough to satisfy the yearning you had inside of you. that yearning was also like an alarm clock that sprung you out of bed at eight a.m. on saturday.

you knew you had hours to waste, so you did all the things you had been procrastinating on: laundry, tidying up, few assignments due next week, and you even dusted parts of the house. yeah, you were that bored.

you weren’t sure what time the party started, but you would probably be able to tell from your window. you had no idea what you were going to wear even though you were thinking about it since wednesday. you believed you had a good sense of style, at least to your liking, but you don’t have all the clothes that you wish you had. living on a college budget wasn’t easy, but you made do.

at this point, it was only two in the afternoon, and you were about to run into the wall until your head was bleeding just to waste more time. this was the downside to having a ridiculously big crush on someone; the inescapable waiting. when crushing, time seems prolonged when you’re without them. but when you’re with them, the world seems to stop completely. it’s like nothing matters but just you two.

you remembered back to wednesday when peter was sitting on your bed and holding you snug against his body while you talked about such a mundane thing like a party invite. you could never erase the feeling of his kiss, his lips forever etched onto yours. the kiss felt like hours, but it was merely a minute before he had to pull away. you imagined what it would be like to just be with him without worrying about anything else. these daydreams cause the yearning in your chest to expand like a balloon, which is never going to satisfyingly explode until you’re in his arms again.

without making a big deal out of it, you needed a good outfit. so, you knocked on one of your “sister’s” doors. you weren’t a fan of the term “sorority sisters,” especially because none of these girls felt like sisters to you. yes, you were all decent friends who went to parties and went out to eat once a month together. but you weren’t as close to them as you were with your friends back at home. you missed them, but you’ve all moved on with your lives.

violet answers with a cheery come in and you walk into her room. you hint that you’re looking for a nice dress for the party tonight.

“i’m glad you came to me first,” she smiles as she stands up from her bed. she heads toward her closet, which is practically pouring out clothes that would laugh at yours. she had so many colors and choices, it was almost overwhelming and you weren’t even the one really choosing. “so. who’s the guy?”

“what? who said anything about a guy?”

“the fact that you want a nice dress for a frat party. you’ve never cared before, so it has to be a guy. so who is it?”

“it’s no one in particular,” you lie easily as you sit on her bed. she sifts through each dress in deep thought.

“so, you want a nice dress to catch any guy’s attention? i don’t buy it,” violet shakes her head, causing her long, black hair to wave.

not that you really care if she believes you, but what’s a believable lie? you know she’ll probably nag you about it the entire night if you don’t give her a valid excuse.

“if i’m being honest, i’m trying to, you know,” you raise your eyebrows high, motioning your hands as she whips around to face you. she nods as a knowing smirk grows on her lips. you weren’t technically lying–you did want to get laid, but you only had one person in mind that could do the job.

“i see. that’s all you needed to say,” she flips through more dresses before pulling out a short red one that makes your eyes widen. it looked nice, too nice, and you didn’t want to ruin anything she had because you’d probably spend the next few months paying to replace it. “let’s get you ready.”

“but the party is in–”

“nuh uh, we’re getting ready now. also, we’re making it into a costume.”

–

for once, you’re glad you listened to violet about getting ready early because it was already six o’clock by the time you guys were both finished. you somehow gave in to the idea of her dolling you up into some kind of sexy spider woman? you didn’t really know. she thought the red and blue accented your skin nicely. violet did what she wanted. you didn’t even plan on wearing a costume in the first place, so you didn’t really mind.

your hair was down and wavy. you had her short red dress on and white fishnet tights. she also gave you royal blue heels. she painted black webs on your eyes with eyeliner while you wore a matching red lipstick. it was a lot more than you expected to see on yourself when you looked in her vanity mirror. hopefully, the look is as attractive and alluring as violet says it is. meanwhile, violet dressed as “slutty catwoman” (her words, not yours).

and yes, violet was going. everyone at mit would be going. it was one of those annual parties that's been going on for years, even before your class was there.

you enjoyed that; traditions and routines. they created memories and showed the change through each generation. thinking back, you bet your ancestors would die of a heart attack if they saw the way you were dressed and the things people did at these parties. but none of those thoughts stopped you from leaving the sorority house and walking across the street to the frat party.

you hadn’t even walked in yet, and the music was booming throughout the neighborhood. through the blinds that failed to close, you could see the technicolor lights flashing in redirection. cars of every shade were parked for probably miles down the street, and you knew as the night went on the number of people would only increase.

violet walked in front of you, strutting through the door like she owned the place. you followed behind her almost cowardly, but you weren’t really looking for everyone’s attention anyway. just one.

however, you forgot that the whole reason violet believed you were wearing this dress in the first place was for that exact reason. so, when she realized your shyness, she turned around and shook all your nerves out of you. literally. she shook your shoulders until you were woozy and nearly stumbling over your heels (you are now wishing you wore sneakers). it was like you were already tipsy by the time she was done.

she dragged you towards the kitchen without any words, seeming as though you wouldn’t be able to hear them over the blaring music and loud chatter. bottles of liquor decorated the marble countertop along with blue and red solo cups, trashed like a 90’s high school movie. violet grabbed the first bottle she saw, pouring the dark liquid into a cup she somehow snagged.

“your turn,” she shoves the bottle and cup towards your body as a stranger bumps into you from the back. the place was getting packed, making it hard to find anywhere to breathe. “some liquid courage.”

“i’m okay. i will later, though,” you rejected, not liking the idea of being drunk when you had a goal in mind. by the end of the night, you really wanted to be in peter’s bed. but you hated the idea of being drunk while having sex, especially when you wanted to enjoy it. you only indulged in drunk sex when you really needed to get off and one; didn’t want to remember what happened, or second; didn’t want it to last longer than that night. mostly the latter.

you know what it feels like to be with peter, and you craved to feel like that again. just thinking about him made you feel a thousand different kinds of wonderful; heart racing, stomach swirling, core burning. you knew the second you found him it would be hard to keep your hands away.

–

peter finally decides to shuffle down his stairs for the first time tonight. when the roaring music began an hour ago, he knew the party had, too, but he didn’t feel like going down yet. he couldn’t help but peek out his blinds in his bedroom, waiting to see you crossing the street.

he swears he was in his bedroom for at least an hour, occasionally peeking out the window, impatiently waiting for your arrival. with a slight frown on his face, he realizes that you might not be coming.

why would you?

peter assumed that you just now noticed how creepy it was for him to sneak into your bedroom. twice. maybe all your smiles and kisses were just silent pleads to make him leave the room faster. but your laugh seemed so genuine, and the sweet, little noises that you muffled under your palms were from real pleasure. right?

you were moaning his name.

he imagined you strutting across the street in a jaw-dropping dress, one that would send him into a frenzy. but you would be too humble and would shrug it off like you were the most average person on earth. peter would scoff and take you into his arms and drag you up into his room. then he would admire you until you believed you were the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen.

open mouth kisses etched on your naked body. bites and pinches of tease. your sweet hums and delicately broken moans. nails clawing into his tough skin greedily. his voice guiding and praising you while yours is disheveled in pleasure.

god, he’s so in his head. he’s so far gone. and he barely knows you.

like a daydreaming idiot, he slaps the side of his head a few times to get his brain back into reality. he stares at his appearance in the mirror, silently motivating himself to have a good night whether or not you show up.

taking a deep breath, he finally exits his bedroom. of course, the music is booming and the place is already as crowded as a concert. peter trails down the stairs, but stops midway when he sees the top of your head.

is that you? how did he miss you?

moving swiftly down the steps, he weaves his way through the crowd, his fake glasses nearly slipping down his face. multiple people try to stop and chat with him, but he doesn’t indulge for long, having a clear destination in mind.

but, just when he reaches the kitchen, you’re gone.

he swears he just saw you. maybe he’s going crazy.

releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, peter pushes through a few more bodies before reaching the sliding glass door. he squeezed himself outside and inhales. when you’re in a house full of sweaty, drunk people smoking weed, you become more grateful for the fresh air.

he removes his glasses and tucks them into his neckline. his eyes gaze at the backyard’s minuscule decorations, and then to the sky. he stares at the stars as they wink at him, reassuring that everything will be alright. he wishes that the town won’t need saving tonight and that everyone will be on their best behavior. he hopes that you’ll come to the party, even if it doesn’t end with you in his arms.

even though that’s all he really wants.

“peter?” a voice speaks, and the sound was so elegant and soft that he thought the stars themselves were talking to him. he forces himself to blink a few times before spinning around to face you.

he nearly faints when he sees your costume.

short red dress, white tights, blue heels, black webs. you were dressed as spider-man, or spider girl, and you looked absolutely fucking stunning. you would be the death of peter. seriously, he thinks he might pass out from lust and admiration looking at you. you were just so drop-dead gorgeous, he couldn’t believe it.

maybe the stars were on his side tonight. unless they wanted to kill him…

“are you okay?” your soft voice of concern walks straight up to him, delicate hand resting on his shoulder.

“y-yeah,” peter stutters before coughing. is it surprising that he’s already half hard? a small blush cascades his pale cheeks. “you look… really fucking good.”

there’s no dancing around it.

now, familiar heat warms your neck, cheeks, and ears at his compliment. his voice was low, so only you could hear it over the screaming music, and it was laced with a small growl that had your stomach flipping. your hand fell from his shoulder.

“thanks,” you couldn’t think of what else to say, but then you looked at his outfit, which was little to none. actually, he was wearing normal clothes. peter was probably the only person at the party without a costume. “i guess i had to go all out since you decided not to wear anything. it’s your party and you didn’t think to dress up?”

peter laughs, breaking any invisible tension that might have been there. god, you loved his laugh. it was so childlike and full of joy, that you couldn’t help but smile.

“i have a costume. hold on,” peter puts on his glasses.

“if you say you’re a hot nerd—”

“nuh uh, i’m a super hot nerd,” he then rips the buttons off half of his flannel, presenting the superman symbol on his chest. rolling your eyes, it was your turn to laugh. your hand covers your face at his silliness as you lean against the nearby wall for support.

“you’re such an idiot.”

“i can’t be a nerd and an idiot, angel.”

“somehow, you make it work,” you both chuckle with huge smiles on your faces, unable to look away from each other.

“hey, dickwad,” flash abruptly appears from the sliding glass door that you two were standing by. he was dressed as spider-man, which nearly made peter cry laughing out of irony when he first found out this morning, but he kept that to himself. “—oh, hey, y/n. nice costume! at least someone has taste.”

“superman is a great superhero—”

“whatever, dude. at least spiderman is real!” flash shouts before parading away, repeating the statement to his next victims that will hear him.

“what do you have against spider-man?” you ask, leaning against the rough wall by just your arm. you were too afraid to have the dress touch it, in fear of ripping or ruining it.

“nothing,” peter shrugs.

“oh, c’mon,” you shove at his shoulder playfully. “just say you don’t believe in him. it’s okay.”

“what! of course, i believe in him, he’s not santa claus.”

“oh my god, santa isn’t real?!” you pretend to be shocked, hands slapping your cheeks. peter lightly chuckles and rolls his eyes before nonchalantly grabbing your hand. your heart speeds up in your chest at his simple movement while your breathing halters.

and just like that he’s in control.

“do you want to get a drink?” peter’s thumb plays with the skin of your knuckles while he waits for your answer. but you can’t think of anything right now besides the soft caress being tattooed onto you.

“no, i’m not in the mood to drink tonight,” you replied, hoping that gave peter a hint at how you wanted the night to go. peter wasn’t as stupid as most guys, so you have high hopes that he understood the foreshadow.

“well, what are you in the mood for?” his voice was low again, speckles of lust wavering in it. he takes a step closer to you, and you can’t help but lay flat against the wall. you weren’t even thinking about the condition of the dress anymore. you swallowed as your stomach burned in anticipation.

“somewhere quiet,” your eyes flickered between his darkening eyes and his pink lips.

“it won’t stay quiet as long as you’re there,” a cheeky smile rises up on his lips as heat floods through your body. you hit his shoulder lightly, embarrassment flushing your cheeks.

following him and his contagious smile, peter drags you through the crowds of people. there were more people in the house than when you arrived, but you’re not surprised. the upstairs section of the frat was basically off-limits to most people, unless you really had to go to the bathroom and the downstairs one was taken. you’ve been to the house a few times, but you’ve never stayed long enough to go upstairs.

but tonight everything is different.

unlike your wooden floors, peter’s are carpeted, so you’re walking very carefully on your heels. when you reach the top step, your calves are slightly burning from the exercise.

looking both ways, peter leads you towards his bedroom at the end of the hallway, hands intertwined. it felt secretive, and a part of you liked it. he closes the door right when you got inside, locking it quickly. but while he’s doing so, your hands release from his to explore his room. he rushes to clean his messes books.

peter had a gray and black color scheme that was alluring. his dark gray sheets looked soft and plush, and you could imagine yourself sleeping in them every night. were you getting ahead of yourself? maybe. you barely knew him, but you felt like you’ve known him forever. you glance around his room some more, trying to get to know him.

he had two band posters; led zeppelin and guns n’ roses. you didn’t expect the second one, but it impressed you. his desk was scattered with textbooks and papers like he had just been studying. turning around you see his two-mirror closet. it was slightly ajar, letting you see a few boxes.

“what’s in the boxes?” you ask, slowly creeping your way towards them. you don’t miss peter’s eyes widening slightly and his cheeks heating up. now you have to know.

“n-nothing important,” peter scratches the back of his neck, and if he’s trying to hide something, he’s doing a horrible job at it. on the sides of each box were black handwriting.

“trophies and medals,” you read aloud, inching your way towards the door, “books—”

“y/n, don’t!” peter exclaimed nervously with a hand reaching out to stop you, causing you to turn around and eye his expression. he swallowed thickly, praying you didn’t open the box. his anxiety was at an all time high. “there’s… personal stuff in there.”

“okay, okay. you don’t want anyone to know you have sexy magazines,” you rolled your eyes and huffed out a chuckle. “i get it. i’m not jealous.”

“yeah…” peter’s cheeks don’t cool down, still red and warm. for some reason, he senses the awkward tension arising in the atmosphere around you both, and he doesn’t know how to tame it. you both know what you want now, but it’s hard to bring it up without being so forward.

“did i tell you that you look good in glasses?” you speak after the few seconds of silence. you get yourself comfortable on the edge of his bed, unstrapping your heels from your already sore feet. you groan. “feels so much better.”

“thanks,” peter joins with a never-ending blush, sitting next to you. he’s itching to touch you.

why was it so much easier when he broke in?

he turns to face you and stares at your eye makeup. you had little black webs on the corner of your eyes. for some strange reason, the idea of you dressing up as him really turned him on. even if you didn’t know it was him.

“peter,” you said a bit breathlessly. your heart was racing with anticipation and lust. he hadn’t even noticed you were staring right back at him. you could look at each other for hours, but you really wanted more. needed it. subconsciously, you were both leaning forward towards your lips.

“yeah?” peter’s gaze never faltered. his honey brown eyes darkened to black.

“i brought something for you,” his eyes shifted from your lips to your eyes, curious.

“it’s not even christmas yet,” he smiles, “and what’s that?” you leaned closer to him, your lips hovering over his ear.

“it’s a surprise,” you whispered seductively, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh. he doesn’t hesitate to rub the supple skin covered by fishnet, warm and smooth.

when you pull away just the slightest, peter crashes his lips to yours. the kiss was as passionate as your feelings for him, erupting your anticipation and nerves in small gasps. he shifts you over to his lap, so you’re straddling him. instantly, you buck your hips into his crotch, desperate for more than a heated kiss.

your heart is thrashing in your chest and there’s a familiar burn in the lower part of your stomach. your hands roam his brown hair, exploring his locks like it’s new territory. except it’s not. you’ve never felt like you’ve known someone so well without even knowing them that well. the chasing, the waiting, the wanting, the needing, the wondering—it was the strangest feeling, and you were addicted to it.

you pop your lips off of peter, puffy and pink. you both take a second to breathe before you start kissing down his neck. you’re not shy with your teeth, leaving marks on his tough skin that’s shielding layers of muscle.

when you get to his collarbone, you nearly whine because he still has his flannel and shirt on. you swear you’ve never been more horny or desperate in your life.

“relax, sweet girl,” peter reassures, petting your hair while you look up at him. “we have all night.”

just tonight? you thought. what about the other nights? and days?

after a soft sigh, you nod and begin unbuttoning his flannel. your hands are a bit shaky from all the anticipation and the rapid beat of your heart. of course peter notices.

“are you alright?” he questions softly, being the caring guy he is.

“yeah, just nervous, i guess,” you answer honestly because he makes it easy to. he’s comforting and he cares.

so why are you nervous?

but instead of asking you why, he says, “me too.”

after you undo the last button and gently remove his flannel, you delicately smile at him. it was so pretty, peter couldn’t help but smile too. you tug on the end of his superman t-shirt, and he yanks it off. and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his immaculate figure. it was sculpted to perfection, as if he was given his body from some drug. or maybe even the gods.

his hand raises to caress your supple cheek, causing you to stare at his face before he’s kissing you again. it started off sweet and gentle, like how peter saw you. but it didn’t take long for it to be rougher and full of lust. peter could feel his jeans tightening underneath you, and he wasn’t stupid enough to confuse the scent of your arousal with perfume or something.

trying again, your lips go to trail down peter’s neck again. his breath is wavering our sighs of pleasure as you lick and nibble his skin.

“gonna tell me that surprise?” peter asks, hands crawling up to the back of your dress. he’s sure to be careful as he drapes the straps down, the top slowly sliding down as you make out with his chest. you push peter’s body down so he’s laying flat on the bed, not answering him. “not gonna answer?”

you weren’t. you didn’t have time for all the things you wanted to do with him. all the things you wanted him to do to you. maybe you were too far gone to think it would take more than a night to be fulfilled by peter. more than two. more than a week? maybe a month. you’d keep going until you’re sick and tired, but you don’t think you could ever get sick or tired of peter parker.

lost within the feeling of his body, you barely comprehend when he flips you dramatically over. his hard body hovers above yours, your dress barely hiding your peaked nipples.

“i ask you a question, baby,” he husks, breath fanning over your skin and traveling toward your ear. a shiver scatters up your spine and a spark of lust fires in your clit.

“you have to wait and see,” you answered breathlessly, a smirk rising on your face.

a dark color covers his eyes. peter doesn’t like not knowing something, so he’s desperate to figure out your little “surprise.”

with little to no effort, violet’s dress is tugged all the way down your body. he tosses it gracefully onto his bedroom floor, but doesn’t pay any mind to it as he gazes over your body. he hasn’t seen you since wednesday and he was craving you like crazy. he thought he was going to go insane. but as he stares down at your figure adorning white fishnets sexily, he finally knows what it’s like to go crazy.

“is this my surprise? because, fuck, you look like a prize.”

you giggle as his rough fingertips trail down your torso. your nipples ache from neglect and the chilly october air that somehow breezes through the room. your body arches up into his touch, needing him badly. maybe you should just tell him the surprise.

but wouldn’t it be so much better if he just found it himself?

“can i unwrap my present?” peter teases with a cheeky smile, nudging at the waistline of your fishnets. you know that the second you open your legs he’s going to see your wetness leaking from the fabric.

“yes, peter,” you can’t help but laugh.

“do you care if i rip them?”

“what?”

“can i rip them?”

“i don’t—” the quiet sound of stretching and ripping cuts you off. he tore your fishnets. well, violet’s fishnets. “peter!”

“too late. i’ve never been good at unwrapping gifts,” he quickly kisses your cheek in a sweet apology, “luckily, i’m pretty good at taking care of them.”

you roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but can’t help but smile like a little kid. as he makes his way down your body again, he widens your legs and sees his surprise. your heart throbs just like your aching cunt.

“ah, so that’s my surprise,” he grumbles. it’s hard for him to keep it together right now.

peter stares darkly at the small purple toy peeking out from your bare pussy. you had no panties on, which in peter’s eyes, seemed ironic. from the top of his eyes, he sees the tiny smirk creeping up onto your lips.

his hand crawls up your leg until it reaches the soaking folds of your throbbing cunt. he pets your slit delicately, like you’d break if he fully touched you. you might. even from that simple touch, you were squirming underneath him, silently begging for more.

“how long has this been keeping you full?” he questions, curious, “is this what you’ve been using while i was gone?”

“mhm,” you hum when his fingers find your puffy clit, throbbing with desire. you leaked all around the purple toy, wetness gushing from you.

“look at you. fucking soaked. what made you this wet? was it the toy?” peter circles your clit faster, making your breath falter. you try to keep your eyes strained on him, but the feeling is just too incredible to focus on anything else. “answer me.”

“n-not the toy,” you stutter with breathlessness. a wavering moan elicits from you.

“then why are you so wet?” he taunts, and the low level of his voice floods over your body just right. you clench needily around the toy right in front of him, causing him to growl.

“you! nothing makes me wet like you do,” you admit head falling back on the pillow as his rough pace gives in. he’s satisfied with your answer, so he goes to a full, fast rhythm.

you’re so dazed with your orgasmic chase that your body rumbles as it nears. to make matters more intense, peter testingly pushes the small button on the bottom of the toy. it springs to life, vibrating your entire insides electrifingly. a broken moan escapes your swollen lips, and you just pray it’s hidden behind the heavy beat of the party music.

your legs shake in his hands as his head lowers. you’re so close to your high and then he does even more? you swear you were going to explode.

his challenging mouth sucks harshly on your clit, devouring you like you were his last meal on earth. instead of the bed sheets, your hands find their way to his soft hair, tucking the roots with triumph.

you’re breathless and you’re close. so, so close. you can see your orgasm in front of you like a sunset and you’re riding straight into it on a horse.

“peter!” you cry when he nibbles on your clit, a smirk pressed against you. it was nice to release your moans without having to muffle them down. your core tenses like never before, overwhelmed by the extreme pleasure. “i’m coming—oh, fuck, please let me come!”

“go ahead, sweet girl,” he pops off of you and replaces his mouth with his thick fingers. “give it all to me.”

so you do. you release every tension within you that was holding you back. with eyes screwed closed, your back arches from the high. the wetness squeezes out of you while peter eases you through it. he switches off the vibrator and puts it somewhere besides you on the bed.

he lowers his head to clean up the mess with delight. when he comes back up, the grin on his face is toothy and contagious. you reflect it back, wondering how you got so lucky. how were you lucky enough for your intruder to be peter parker?

“you okay, angel?” peter asks, thumb caressing your heated cheek bone with concern. you’re melting into his touch, hoping to be a part of him forever. you wouldn’t mind.

“yeah, just… thinking.”

“good or bad?”

“i’ll tell you later,” you smile as you recall all the small thoughts you have of peter. peter rolls his eyes dramatically as your hands rub down his chest.

“but… i was wondering if i could be on top? just wanna try it. i need it,” you stare into his eyes and patiently wait for an answer. you’ve never been on top before, but with peter it seems like it would be really fun.

“i don’t know. do you want me to die?”

you laugh, forcing you to look away from his brown eyes. you push peter off the bed until he’s standing and ask him to take off his pants. when he’s completely naked, he goes to lean against his headboard, ready for you to sit on him. you crawl over to him as he puts on a condom from his bedside table.

“ready, baby?” he massages your upper arms.

“you’re being too nice, peter,” you note as you throw your legs over his hips. you didn’t actually know what you were doing, but confidence is key. if you just pretended like you knew, it would look like it, right?

“what? do you want me to be mean, baby? ‘cause i can be mean.”

“don’t think you’re really capable.”

“we’ll see then, doll,” peter says deeply as his hand grips your hip tightly.

as you slowly lower your body with peter’s guidance, you feel his tip enter you. it was a different feeling than being on the bottom. you had more control, but you had to do more work. you’re not sure if you cared to have so much free reign. you kind of preferred when peter took the wheel.

you rocked your hips forward, feeling his hard cock fully inside of you. it was stretching you completely out. you couldn’t get up if you tried. there was a pain mixed with pleasure that filled you up so good.

“c’mon, y/n. fuck yourself on my cock,” he growled in encouragement as you attempted to lift your hips up. you barely move because you’re squeezing around his cock so tight, like if you let go you’ll die. peter lightly moans as you squeeze him, wondering if he’ll die right here inside of you.

“i-i can’t,” you whine.

“you can’t? thought you needed it?” he taunts. peter can be mean if he really wanted to,

“it’s too hard.”

“you’re not even trying. good girls at least try. don’t you want to be a good girl?”

peter thrusts up into you once to make you moan, which works successfully. you spit out your broken moan with your hands clawing his biceps.

“barely moved and you’re already moaning. pathetic, really. you asked me to be on top and you can’t even take it.”

you clench around his prick at his degrading words. you didn’t think he could be mean, but you were wrong. his words were just the right amount of degrading that made you weak and so, so wet.

“look at that. my girl’s getting off on words like pathetic,” my girl. the two words nearly cause you to come right then and there. then peter thrusts up into you with purpose in each movement. as one hand grips your hip, the other floats up to your breast and fingers your nipple. he flicks and tweaks at it, causing you to arch into his touch. “what about slut? do like when i call you my slut?”

“fuck, peter,” you groan at his dirty talking. with each pump, you would feel every inch of him inside of you, filling you up completely. although you’re so full, you needed it harder and faster, and it was going to be difficult to get it from this angle when you’re not being much help.

before the begging words even slip from your mouth, peter is flipping you both over with ease. he doesn’t waste a second to slide back into you, causing your body to erupt in flames.

he begins with hard pumps, slowly gaining speed. but once he’s going fast, you could barely focus on your senses. you swear you could hear colors.

the sounds of your moans, shrieks, and screams echo throughout his bedroom. you don’t care if people could hear you. you hoped they could. you hoped they knew how good peter was destroying you, so they knew you were his.

peter hoped the same thing.

“so, so good, peter,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head in ecstasy.

“yeah? such a slut for my cock, huh?” he teases, voice low and lustful. “so cockdumb that you couldn’t even ride me.”

“i-i can do it,” a breathless moan escaped you, but you were too floaty to understand what you were really saying.

“oh, now you can do it? well, it’s too late, sweetheart.”

peter’s pace doesn’t falter. he makes sure to make every thrust count as he hits every angle. you cry out in bliss, chasing your orgasm like your life depends on it.

“i’m close,” the whine that elicits from you is groggy and strained from how sore it feels. you can’t even imagine how raw it would be from taking him down your throat…

for another time.

his rough hand trails down between you until he’s pressing his hand down on your stomach. with every shift of his cock he can feel himself moving through you. as he puts more pressure, you both collectively moan at the feeling.

“can you feel me? can you feel me deep inside of your little cunt? do you feel me right here?” peter drags your trembling hand to place it on your lower torso, right where he’s nonstop thrusting into you.

“yes, peter! fuck, you’re so big. i feel you in my tummy,” you clamp around his cock, your orgasm right around the corner. “please, please let me come. i’ve been good.”

“have you? you couldn’t even ride me even when i let you.”

“i’m sorry, peter–please. need to so bad,” your eyes are squeezed shut as you beg peter. his hand that was on top of yours drifts down to your clit. he stimulates it by rubbing in tight circles that have you seeing stars. every muscle is in your body is screaming and pleading for release while he overstimulates you more. “want to be good!”

“yeah? want to be a good girl?” a needy moan elicits from you. “then come for me. right now while you’re squeezing me.”

the air surrounding you turned wistful and cloudy. your body rumbled and erupted as you orgasmed, shaking with desire as it poured out of you. you thought the first time that you and peter fucked was the best sex you’ve ever had, but after tonight, you’ve never been more wrong. maybe it’s because you two are a little more comfortable with each other. maybe it’s because you told him to be a little mean. whatever it was, it was the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. because it was more than sex. it felt like more.

peter’s orgasm trails yours, making sure that you come first. his thrusts were slowier and sloppier as he pants out heavy breaths. before exiting you, his hand reaches up to caress your face.

“okay?” his voice was a bit raspy as he came down from his high. his arms were on either side of your head, and you felt safe and protected.

“more than,” you smiled dopily at peter, whose eyes were twinkling. reflecting a smile, peter begins to pull out of you. “do we have to?”

“have to what?” he stops his movements, half-way out of you. you hated the empty feeling that started to flood over you because you knew he’d leave soon. well, you would leave soon.

“leave. can’t we just stay in here all night?” you question. a part inside of you was scared for his rejection, that he was going to kick you out and then that was it. but the other half of you had the courage to ask because you knew it would all be fine.

“i would–”

“oh, there’s a but coming.”

“but i need to eat. and so do you,” he pulls out of you and rids out the condom within a few seconds. you don’t move from your flat position on the bed, feeling the cold waves of loneliness flooding over you already. peter had a tingle that you wanted more. you wanted to stay, but you were too nervous to ask. you were good at giving him big hints, though.

he loves the idea of you staying. laying with you and hearing your soft breaths as you sleep. cuddling close to be warm from the cold air. peter’s heart lurches at the wonderful thought.

peter reaches for his clothes and dresses. you bend over and slip on the dress, without the fishnets. your hair was probably a mess, but you didn’t care because the only person you cared about seeing tonight was peter.

once you’re dressed with shaky hands, peter stands in front of you and rests his hands on your shoulders. delicately, he caresses your neck as you practically pur into his warm touch. you felt your heart rate pick up, even though he was just inside of you.

“and then, if you’d like, we can come back up here,” he presses his chest against yours as his voice softens, “and we can lay in bed, watch a movie, and not worry about being caught because we don’t have rules like you do.”

although your heart was beating fast already, you’ve never felt more comfortable. he made you feel reassured, and you couldn’t ask for more. with a smile rising to your lips, peter’s heart skips a beat at the wistfulness cascading throughout his body. your lips were soft and kissable, your skin was glowing with an orgasmic shine, and your makeup was a bit smudged, but you still looked like peter’s perfect girl.

his girl.

“wait, before we eat, i have to get some stuff at the sorority.”

“okay,” he says, “put this on. it’s freezing and your wearing practically nothing.”

he throws a hoodie at you and you catch it with blinking eyes. it as a small gesture, but your heart was melting. you slip it over your head without any question. and then he’s dragging you out of the extremely loud and crowded house. no one says or questions anything, and you’ve never been more glad to be so invisible.

–

“what are you doing? come on!”

“what if they see me?”

“there’s no one home!” you whisper-shouted at peter as you walked through the door. there was a key under the flower pot that worked great when you forgot your key.

it’s kind of ironic that you are both sneaking into your sorority. it’s a full circle moment.

you both tiptoe through the clean, white house. peter nearly takes his shoes off because he’s scared he’ll leave dirt footprints in his trail. he really does not want to be seen in this house knowing what happened to flash the last time they snuck in. but it’s peter’s job to be stealthy, so he hopes he could keep up the good work.

you make it up the stairs and head straight for your room. peter remembered exactly which one was yours, now that he’s been in it two times somehow. once you’re both inside, he shuts the door behind him quietly like someone would hear him.

“why did we just tiptoe all the way up here? there’s no one even here!” you say in a normal level voice as a chuckle follows after. peter laughs with you as you search your drawers for some clothes.

“i feel it’s only right to bring the mit one, right?”

“definitely.”

“wait, did you leave the vibrator on your bed?”

“uh… yeah. sorry.”

“peter!” your skin grows warm with the idea that someone might stumble into his bedroom and find it just lying there. you cringe at yourself.

you pack a small overnight bag with your most needed essentials. peter sits patiently on your bed, practically swinging his feet as he analyzes your bedroom. it was simple with a few picture frames of family and friends. your room was basically plain white with a few pink and blue items scattered around the place. in all, it was you. he couldn’t think of a better sorority room to fit your vibe, your personality better than this room. it was naturally gorgeous, like you.

even though peter was looking around your room, he was still watching you pack. he observed when you folded a pair of night shorts with the mit t-shirt and even threw in an outfit for the next day just in case you two went out. but you were missing something.

“okay, let me grab my toothbrush,” you quickly left the room and in no-time were back. “let’s go. i’m hungry now.”

“but you’re forgetting something,” peter says. you blink, wondering what you might be forgetting.

“but i grabbed everything–” you watch as peter glides towards your dresser drawers. he opens the top left and immediately finds your colorful panties and underwear. your eyes widen in embarrassment, even though he’s seen you naked multiple times. something about him staring at your undergarments was just a little more… vulnerable?

peter snatches two different colors, a royal blue one and a vibrant red one, similar to the first one he saw you in. of course, he picked these colors purposely.

“which one? i’m thinking the blu–”

“what are you doing! that’s my underwear!” you tried to reach for them dangling in his hands, but he was way quicker than you. it’s like he knew before you even moved.

“well, i think at this point it’s kind of a tradition for me to take one, no? i couldn’t take them earlier because you weren’t wearing any!”

your neck and cheeks flush with embarrassment. yeah, you may have been confident when in the moment, but talking about it just made your face hot. peter always knew how to get you going. to get quickly out of this situation, you grumble, “blue.”

and with that, you were on your way back to the frat house. the party was still going strong and surprisingly, no one asked where either of you were. when you and peter walked through the door, people just acted like you’ve been there the whole time. but they were also drunk and high, so was it really that shocking?

within the first few minutes of you and peter being in the congested house, you both look at each other with a knowing look. there was no way you two could eat in this populous, mess of a place.

“diner?” peter shouts over the blaring music. he swore flash turned it up to full volume, even when peter told him specifically not to do that.

“exactly what i was thinking,” you reply loudly as you squeeze your bodies through the crowd. peter slides his hand into yours as you shift through everybody. a spark of electricity nearly shocks you.

when you approach his car, you throw your bag at the bottom of your feet before dropping into his passenger seat. you both inhale and exhale the refreshing night time air. the house smelt like marjuana and sweat, but his car was scented with pine and fresh leather.

as he started the car, you two didn’t say anything. and it was perfect. it was comfortable. it was safe. you turn your head to look at peter, whose eyes were fighting between the road and you. your heart skips a beat that’s getting familiar as you smile softly. gently, your hands intertwine as you ride on to the diner.

your journey with peter started… differently than most. but you liked the idea of having a tradition with peter. sure, it may not be traditional, but it was yours. you would both have to create a fundraiser for all these panties he will be stealing because they’re not cheap!

is it really stealing if you know he’s taking them? whatever.

when people ask how you guys met, it’s going to be a funny story. how many people break into someone’s house as a dare and then fall in love with them? not many.

wait… love?

–

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. i could not be more grateful for the love on panty stealer. i never thought any of my writing would get this much notice, so thank you (times three) for all the likes, comments, and reblogs.

note: i won’t be making anymore full parts, however, i will do blurbs/drabbles of these two if requested!

taglist: @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @sylum @harrys-humble-housewife @blurazbabe @introverbatim @piperparker7 @graceberman3 @tommy-braccoli @fioooweeooweeeoo @conrad4life13

crossed out= not able to tag

[ahsokaismyqueen]

Idiotic Decisions Pairing - Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Summary - Working on a project with douchebag Steve Harrington was not something you were looking forward to doing. However, you're surprised to find that maybe he's just a little less of a jerk than you thought. Word Count - 2.2k Warnings - Language and season 1 Steve, but that's it! Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Masterlist

Of all the things that you thought you might have to do in high school, partnering with Steve Harrington on a project was the one you probably wanted to do the least. Even less so did you want him to know where you lived and be in your house, but one, you had to be there when your brother got home, and two, you wanted the home field advantage. 

“I still don’t see why you don’t just blow him off. You can come over and help me work on my new campaign. I had this great idea -”

You rolled your eyes. “Eddie, I’m not blowing off this project. It’s like twenty-five percent of my grade, and if I leave it all to Harrington I’m sure to fail.” 

Eddie snorted over the phone. “Don’t you have like a 98 in that class?” 

A sigh left your lips. “Yes, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. I need all the help I can get for scholarships. We’re gonna run like hell outta here remember? I can’t do that without some help.” After a moment, a thought struck you though. “Wait, don’t you have your own project to do? For Ms. O’Donnell?” 

“What’s that? Oh, sorry, my Uncle’s calling me to do some stuff around the trailer. I’m going to have to let you go.” He rattled off. 

But you knew he was lying. “I know damn well Wayne’s at work, Eddie.” 

“Bye!” Then there was nothing on the other end but a dial tone. 

Glancing at the clock in the kitchen, you let out a groan, knowing that Steve would be here any minute, and started cleaning off the table so you two would have some space to work. By 5, the time Steve had agreed to be there, everything was clean and your notes were laying out on the table for the two of you to use since you were sure he didn’t have any. 

Then it was 5:30, and he still wasn’t there. 

6:00

7:00 

7:30 and there was still no sign of Steve Harrington. 

By that point, you had grabbed a beer from where you had hidden them in the back of the fridge, and had taken up a spot on the couch with your new book, The Gunslinger. You almost didn’t answer when the knock sounded at your door, but you were curious as to what his excuse might be. 

Steve Harrington stood on your doorstep with what you were sure was supposed to be a charming grin. “Hey, Henderson.” When you stared at him without saying a word, the grin started to fade, and he fidgeted around. “You gonna let me in or?” 

You brought your beer to your lips and took a sip, continuing to stare him down for a moment, and then you took a step back, shutting the door in his face. Turns out you didn’t care what his excuse was. You sat back down on the couch and opened your book once again. 

Steve started trying to talk to you through the door. “Come on, Henderson, basketball practice ran late, and then I had to call Nancy-” 

You let out a snort and flipped the page. 

“Just let me in. I promise I’ll do whatever you say, all the grunt work, hell, I’ll even write, ‘I will not be late.’ Like a hundred times if that’ll make you feel better.” He pleaded. 

Hmmm . . . That would be amusing. 

“Henderson, seriously, what’s it going to take? I can’t fail this class-”

“What are you doing here?” 

You leapt out of your seat and ran to the door, opening it with a big grin. “How did it go?” You asked Dustin. 

Your little brother mirrored your grin. “It was awesome! We didn’t get finished though.” 

You nodded, expecting that. “Campaigns take forever sometimes, but it’s worth it in the end.” 

“Will was trying to attack the demogorgon, and when he rolled the dice, it flew off the table, then it took forever to find it.” 

“Was it a thirteen?” You asked. 

Dustin shook his head. “It was a seven, but Mike didn’t see it, so it didn’t count.” 

Letting out a laugh, you lifted Dustin’s hat to ruffle his hair. “Sneaky. I like it.” 

“Are you two speaking English?” 

You had forgotten Steve was there until he spoke. You shot him a scowl, but didn’t respond to him. “Come on, as awesome as that sounds, you’ve got to get to bed.” You told your little brother, wrapping your arm around his shoulder and bringing him inside. You tried to shut the door behind you, but Steve snuck in before you could. 

“What is he doing here anyway?” Dustin asked again, glancing back at Steve as you tugged him to his room. 

“Being inconsiderate and disrespectful of my time. Which is what I should have expected.” You replied without looking at Steve who was following behind the two of you. “Brush your teeth, lights out in ten.” You told him. 

Dustin groaned. “Fine.” 

“Are you having to babysit your brother tonight or something?” Steve asked. 

You didn’t want to respond, but you got the feeling that he was going to keep pestering you until you did. “No. My mom’s just asleep already.” 

Steve glanced down at his wrist, and then at you. “At 8:00?” 

Something about his tone made you snap. “Not that it’s any of your damn business, but her medication makes it hard for her to stay awake.” 

Steve seemed to recognize the defensiveness in your tone, holding up his hands in front of himself. “Sorry, I’m not used to a quiet house by 8:00. My dad’s usually three beers in, yelling at my mom about how shitty and stupid I am at that point.” 

You paused for a moment, then narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m not going to feel sorry for you when you show up three hours late to work on a project that’s like a fourth of our grade.” You shoved past him, bumping into his shoulder as you did. 

He still followed you. “I’m not trying to make you feel sorry for me - shit, Henderson- ” you froze as Steve’s stupidly large hand wrapped around your wrist. “I’m really sorry, okay? You’re right, I wasn’t respecting you like I should’ve been. It was shitty of me to show up so late.” 

It surprised you. His apology sounded sincere. You turned around to face him, and Steve let go of you. “Well . . . I’m glad you’re self aware enough to know that was shitty.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Other girls may let you treat them like that, but I’m not Harrington. I’m not going to do all the work because you . . . Flutter your eyelashes at me or something.” 

Steve grinned, raising an eyebrow at you. “Flutter my eyelashes?” 

You felt heat rush to your face, but tried to brush it off. “I’m serious.” 

“Right. Right. Sorry.” He said. “No fluttering of eyelashes, got it.” 

Taking a deep breath, you decided to lay down the rules. “I know we don’t get along, but for the sake of this project we need to work together. Which means I won’t call out all the ways you’re a douchebag, and you’ve got to give me at least a little respect.” 

Steve stared at you, and you couldn’t help but move restlessly underneath his gaze. There was something about his eyes that was just . . . Intense. “That sounds fair.” He said, leaning against the doorframe. “Do you still want to work tonight, or do you want me to leave?” 

Honestly, you were kind of surprised he was asking. It was almost . . . Considerate. “I - uh, I guess we can go ahead and work tonight. It’s not like I’d be going to bed any time soon anyway.” 

His smile was back now as he spoke. “All right boss, lead the way.” 

You rolled your eyes, but there was a small smile on your face as you led him to the kitchen. 

————————

“Can I be honest with you Harrington?” 

Papers were scattered around the table in every direction, no longer a neat stack like how you guys had started, but you found yourself not minding. Steve was bent over a sheet of construction paper, drawing lines with a ruler, biting his bottom lip in concentration as he tried to get the line perfect. At your words though, he looked up at you, raising his eyebrows. “You mean that’s not what you’ve been doing the entire time?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t expect you to actually try. I’ve seen how you are in class.” For years you had watched Steve show up late, eat snacks, and flirt with girls instead of paying attention. You hadn’t expected it to be any different this time. 

He bent back over the paper again, starting a new line. “Yeah, well, maybe I just wanted to prove to you I’m not the idiot you think I am.” 

It wasn’t often that you regretted words that you said, but that might have been one of the times. You thought back to what he said earlier about his dad. How many people did Steve Harrington have in his life that thought he was stupid? It made you uncomfortable that you were now on that list. “Maybe, ‘makes idiotic choices’ is what I should have said instead. You know, like, being friends with Tommy and Carol.” 

Steve didn’t say anything for a moment, and you thought you might’ve hit a nerve. “Aren’t you the one who’s friends with the drug dealer? How long before you think Munson’s locked up?” 

Yep. You had hit a nerve, and now he had to. “Yeah, well at least Eddie’s not fucking miserable like those two.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. “He cares about people. He took me in when I had no one because everyone thought I was weird for reading fantasy books and not talking to anyone. That sound like something Tommy and Carol would do?” 

Steve slammed down the pencil and ruler. “People don’t think you’re weird because you read. People think you’re a bitch who goes around sleeping with people all the time because someone caught you coming out of a room at a party right before Jason Carver.” 

“Jason Carver cornered me in that room while I was waiting on Eddie, tried to get me to make out with him, got pissed when I wouldn’t, then went outside and spread the rumor that I was a whore.” You hissed. You didn’t know why the words left your lips. The only person who knew about that night was Eddie, and now for some reason Steve Harrington. Oh well. It wasn’t as if you could take them back. “And everyone believed him without a second thought, didn’t they?” You said, leaning back in your chair. “Including you.” 

Steve sat in stunned silence, his eyes never leaving your face. You thought you might have broken him when he finally spoke. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

You shrugged. “He didn’t actually do anything. He scared me for a second by grabbing my arm then I kicked him in the balls so hard he passed out. I guess wounding his ego and dick at the same time must have been too much.” 

“You should’ve kicked him harder.” 

“Probably.” 

Silence filled the room again, neither one of you quite knowing what to say after your confession. You didn’t regret saying it. It was almost a relief to know that someone else knew you weren’t what everyone thought, even if it was Steve Harrington. He was still looking at you, his eyes tracing over your face as if seeing you in a new light. Then he glanced down at the paper in front of you and smirked. “That’s the shittiest flower I’ve ever seen.” 

“What?” You glanced down at your own paper, a frown appearing on your face. Okay, so maybe your circles were a little lopsided, and your stems kinda thick, but it wasn’t that bad. “No it isn’t!” 

“Oh, it is. I’m just glad to find something you can’t do.” 

You let out a laugh that turned into a snort. Your eyes widened, and you covered your mouth as heat rushed to your face. 

Steve’s smile grew in delight. “What the hell was that? Do you have pigs in here somewhere?”

“You’re never to repeat that you heard that, do you hear me Harrington?” You threatened. 

“Will it make up for me making the idiotic decision to believe those rumors about you?” He asked. 

Your heart did a funny thing then. Almost gave a jump, and for some stupid reason you felt your eyes get a little watery. “It’s a start.” 

————————

The next morning at school, you met Eddie by your locker. “So how was it?” He asked as soon as you saw him. 

How could you possibly answer him? “It was . . . Not as bad as it could have been I guess?” You said, starting to unlock your locker. “How about you? I hope Wayne didn’t keep you up so late you didn’t get finished with O’Donnell’s project.” You said, calling him out on his bullshit. 

Eddie grinned sheepishly at you. “Yeah well - What the hell is all that?” 

As soon as you opened your locker, at least ten sheets of folded up paper had fallen out. You bent to pick one up and read what it said. It turned out they all said the same thing. 

I will not be late. 

You looked up and spotted him a little ways down the hallway, waiting by Nancy Wheeler’s locker. When he saw you watching him, he gave you a salute. 

You smiled.

[jhyoos]

Dreams Come True

Chapter 1: Breaking The Ice

modern au! hockey star! vi x idol! reader

inspo: @shouyuus

summary : reader, a weary trainee chasing fading dreams the more she is held back from debuting, finds their worlds colliding with vi, a rising star on a college hockey team. but as vi’s successes shine brighter and their paths diverge, the weight of mismatched futures becomes unbearable. vi “takes it upon herself” to end their relationship.

warnings: cocky!vi (only for this chapter), modern au!, little of college au!, and lots of angst for this chapter.

notes: im still editing this! but please enjoy!

chapters: one, two, christmas special, three, four, five

The mirrored walls of the practice room reflected every imperfect detail—the smudge of sweat on your forehead, the slight tremor in your legs as you held your final pose, and the hollow look in your eyes you tried to ignore. The beat of the music faded, leaving only the sound of your labored breathing and the dull ache in your muscles.

“Again,” your dance instructor said, clapping their hands sharply. No sympathy, no reprieve. Just endless push to perfection.

You wiped your brow with the back of your hand, your eyes darting to the clock. It was late.

Vi’s hockey game had probably ended hours ago, but you hadn’t checked your phone. You couldn’t afford distraction. Not now.

As the music restarted, you pushed yourself through the choreography, your movements robotic, devoid of the passion you once had. You stumbled on a turn, your ankle wobbling slightly, and your dance instructor’s glare could cut through the mirror she was staring at you through.

“Focus or you’ll never make it.”

The words stung, but they weren’t untrue. You bit your lip, swallowing the lump in your throat. You couldn’t afford falter. Not when the dream you had chased for years was so close, yet so far out of reach.

When practice ended, you sank onto the floor, your back against the cold wall. Your chest heaved, and your hands trembled as you reached for your phone.

No new messages

You stared at the blank screen for a moment longer than you should have. It wasn’t like Vi to go silent, but maybe that was just another sign of how things were unraveling.

With a shaky breath, you typed out a message: “Hey are you okay? Haven’t heard from you. I miss you.”

Your finger hovered over the send button, but before you could press it, a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“You’re still here?”

You looked up to see one of your fellow trainees, Mel, already in a coat and standing by the door.

“Yeah, just…catching my breath,” you lied.

Mel bid her farewells to you and left without saying another word, the sound of the door clicking shut leaving her alone in the room.

You sent the message before you could overthink it and stood, grabbing your bag. The night outside was cold, and you already feel the soreness settling into your body. But what hurt more was the absence of Vi—the one person who had always been your escape from the endless cycle of training and exhaustion.

You needed her.

The rink was silent, the cold biting at her skin as she stepped inside. Vi was on the ice, skating back and forth in a sharp, aggressive movements, her stick slamming the puck against the boards with a hollow thud. It wasn’t practice—it was something else, something restless and angry.

“Vi,” you called softly, standing at the edge of the rink. Your voice echoed, but Vi didn’t stop. She kept skating, kept hitting the puck as if trying to drown out the sound of her name.

Finally, the reader stepped closer, her sneakers crushing against frost. “Vi stop.”

With a frustrated groan, Vi came to a halt, her skates screeching against the ice. She turned to face you, her expression hard, almost unrecognizable. “What are you doing here?”

“I came because you didn’t answer me. Again,” you said, crossing your arms against the cold. “You’ve been avoiding me lately and I wanna know why…I deserve to know why.”

Vi leaned her stick against the boards, running a hand through her hair “I’ve been busy.”

“Busy?” You repeated, your voice rising. “You’ve think that’s an excuse? I’ve stayed up with you until three in the morning when you couldn’t sleep because of a bad game. I’ve massaged your shoulders after every practice when you were too sore to move. I’ve made sure you ate when you forgot, Vi. But now you’re too ‘busy’ to answer my text?”

Vi’s jaw tightened, her eyes flickering with something unreadable. “I’ve never asked you to do any of that.”

The words hit you like a slap. You couldn’t help but let out of a chuckle, stunned. “What?”

“I’ve never asked you to stay up, or to take care of me, or drop everything for me,” Vi says coldly. “That was your choice.”

Your chest tightened, anger and hurt bubbling to the surface. “My choice? You didn’t seem to mind when I was helping you through every breakdown, every bad practice, every injury. But now that things are hard for me, you can’t be bothered to check in?”

Vi’s gaze hardened, and she stepped off the ice, her skates crunching against the rubber mats. “This isn’t about you. It’s about us. And us doesn’t work…”

“Why?” You demanded, your voice trembling. “Because I’m not as successful as you yet? Because I’m not shining as bright as your hockey career?”

“Because we are on different paths,” Vi snapped, her tone sharp. “You’re barely holding it together, and I can’t be the one to carry you through it.”

Your eyes filled with tears, but you refused to let them fall. “Carry me? I’ve done nothing but support you, Vi. Every step of the way. And you want to act like I’m the one that’s dragging you down?”

Vi shrugged, her face mask of indifference. “Maybe you are.”

The words cut deeper than any slap or any ache that you felt on your body. “You don’t mean that,” you whispered.

“Don’t I?” Vi said, her voice devoid of emotion. “This is exhausting. You are exhausting. And I think it’s better if both of us stop pretending this will work.”

Your breath hitched, your hands shaking. “I loved you,” you say quietly, the words trembling with pain. “I gave you everything, and this is what I get in return?”

Vi didn’t reply, her silence colder than the air around them.

You scoffed “Cool.”

With that, you turned and walked away, your footsteps echoing in the empty rink. Behind her, Vi stayed silent, unmoving as if she’d decided already there was nothing left to fight for.

The outside cold stung your face, but it wasn’t nearly as sharp as the ache in your chest.

The morning was quiet, but not in a peaceful way. You had to skip your classes after an emergency meeting at your company. All of the trainees were scattered throughout the room, discussing amongst each other.

You sat in the corner of the studio, your knees drawn to your chest. Your phone buzzed on the floor beside you but you didn’t bother picking it up. You already knew it wasn’t Vi.

You hadn’t slept much, not that it was new. But this time, it wasn’t the pressure of training or fear of failing—it was the look on Vi’s face, the cold finality of her words

“I never asked you to do anything of that”

You repeated those words in your head so many times it felt like they’d been etched into you. Each time they came back, they stung a little less, leaving behind a dull, empty ache.

“Hey”

You looked up to see one of your close friends, Mel standing over you with a water bottle in her hands and her usual casual smirk softened into something more thoughtful. “You look like hell…”

You let out a humorless laugh “Thanks…that’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

Mel sat down beside you, sliding the water bottle into your lap. “Drink that. You’ll feel less like death.”

You took it without arguing, twisting it off the cap and taking a sip. Mel leaned back on her hands, watching her movement before speaking again “Let me guess, Vi?”

You froze, your fingers tightening around the water bottle. You didn’t answer, but the silence was enough.

“I saw her before I left this morning,” Mel said her voice careful. “She looked like hell too. I mean, hides it well, but you can tell when you’ve been around her enough.”

“Good,” you muttered, staring down at the water bottle. “She should feel like hell after what she said.”

Mel let out a low whistle “Shit girl…”

The instructor walked into the room, silence falling instantly. He scanned the group, a stern look on his face. “Alright,” he said, his voice cutting through the tension. “We’ve seen what you’re all capable of. Today, we’re announcing the new members of the upcoming girl group AURORA. Listen carefully.”

Your heart raced as you sat up straighter , trying to calm the pounding of your chest. You’ve been training under this company for over 3 years now. You just knew your time would soon come.

The instructor called out a 3 girls names. None of them were yours and honestly you were starting to lose hope.

“Mel Merdarda.”

Mel’s name was called, and the room filled with automatic claps and cheers. You turned to your friend with a wide grin, though she noticed a flash of concern in your eyes when Mel caught your gaze.

Who were you gonna talk shit with now?

And then the instructor paused, scanning the room once more. There was a slight hesitation before he said the words that would change everything.

“(Y/N) (L/N)”

Your chest tightened. You barely registered the sound of applause as you stood frozen for a beat longer than you should have. Your name.

You had finally made it. 

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡

♱ ━━━ PAIRING: BANG CHAN X READER ♱ ━━━ CW: CNC, SEX FANTASY, ROLEPLAY (INTRUDER & VICTIM), SEXTING, DEGRADING, PRAISE, ORAL (M. REC), FACIAL, PUSSY SLAP, MIRROR SEX, DYCRYPHILIA, HAIR PULLING, MIRROR SEX, RECORDING, FINGERING, MANHANDLING, CHOKING, SPANKING, UNPROTECTED SEX, FEAR PLAY, “NO” IS SAID BUT IS NOT A SAFEWORD, CLIT PLAY, MULTIPLE ROUNDS, CREAMPIES (2), AFTERCARE ♱ ━━━ WC: 2.6K ♱ ━━━ NOTE: ♱ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Chan sighed as he looked at the text message. He truly did spoil his girlfriend, but he loved doing it. He always gave in to what she wanted since she knew she’d only ask if she really wanted it. If his princess wanted him to fuck her dressed like a serial killer, he would. 

     He worked for another hour before packing up and heading home to his girlfriend. Almost forgetting about the conversation till he walked through the door to their apartment. Being greeted by his very happy girlfriend wrapping her arms around him. “Hi, handsome.”

     “Hi princess,” Chan greeted as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pecked her lips. 

     “When’s the mask coming?” She asked, bouncing a little in her place as he slipped his shoes off and set his bag down

     “End of the week.”

     “And you’re off this weekend?” 

     Chan saw the little light in her eyes as he trapped her in his arms and walked her back to the couch, “Depends.”

     “Chris,” Y/n whined before he laid her on the couch and laid on top of her.

     The Aussie chuckled and leaned up to peck her lips. “How about you tell me how you imagine me fucking you in the mask would go and then I’ll decide if I go in and work this weekend.”

     Y/n smiled at the mischievous look in his eyes.

     Chan did go into the studio. Briefly mentioned to his girlfriend that Changbin and Han needed his help for a track. Promising to be back as soon as he could. Y/n pouted as he kissed her in the kitchen before he headed out the door. She knew damn well he’d be getting home late, knowing how those three always getting sidetracked when they were working together.

     But it couldn’t be helped. She went on about her day, checking in on her boyfriend every so often and reminding him— and the other two— to eat at meal times. Y/n did some chores she had to do around the house and ran a couple of errands she had to do. Getting home before it got dark. Making dinner and an extra plate for Chan for whenever he came home. 

     Y/n wound up in bed not long after, the TV in their bedroom playing as she waited for him to come home and cuddle. Y/n checked her phone. No messages about coming home yet. Probably deep in his work, normal. 

     11:48 pm

     He’d worked late but not this late. She sat up in bed and unlocked her phone. Opening up their messages and texting him. 

Y/n: Coming Home soon? 🥺 Channie💕: sorry Princess. This track is a lot more work than we thought. We’re trying to fix a few things. I’ll let you know when I leave. You don't have to wait for me, baby. Get some sleep. I’ll be there when you wake up 💕 Y/n: Mmmm want to fall asleep in your arms though

     Y/n sighed as she looked up from her phone and caught a glance in their free-standing mirror. She smiled and got out of bed. Tossing off her sleep shorts and underwear before sitting in front of the mirror in one of his zip-up hoodies. Unzipping it almost all the way down, just covering her lower half  

Channie💕: I know Princess 😖 I’m sorry but you know I won't be able to sleep if we don't fix this Y/n: But I won't be able to sleep without you        [1 photo]       Please, baby 🥺 Channie💕: Princess                   My baby looks so good in just my sweater Y/n: think I’d look better under you, getting split open on your cock.  Channie💕: Yeah?                    Can you show Daddy that pretty pussy?

     Y/n smiled and leaned back, taking her legs out from under her, and planting her feet on the floor. She unzipped the sweater fully so her wet folds were in perfect view of the mirror and camera. The sweater fell off her shoulder as well, exposing one of her boobs as well. 

Y/n: [1 photo] Channie💕: Been touching yourself, Princess? Your soaked Y/n: No Daddy. Just thinking of you Channie💕: Maybe Daddy should come home and help you out then Y/n: Please🥺🥺 Channie💕: Give me an hour and I’ll be home princess😉 Y/n: Channnnniiiieee

     Y/n waited for a response but nothing. She sighed and locked her phone, finally looking up in their mirror just for her mouth to get covered by a black gloved hand, white scream mask behind her. Their purple LED lights reflected off the mask. 

     Y/n squirmed in his hold and closed her legs, trying to save some dignity as she grabbed the arm that was covering her mouth dropping her phone on the floor. The masked man behind her pulled her legs open, “Don't want to keep ‘em open? Didn't have a problem showing off earlier.” he chuckled, gloved hand slapping her clit a few times.

     Y/n tried arching away but he had a tight grip on her jaw. Making her look straight ahead in the mirror. Y/n closed her eyes as he massaged her clit, trying not to moan. 

     “Open your eyes,” the man growled and slapped the inside of her thigh.

     Y/n screamed into his hand and opened her eyes, tears pricking her lash line. “Good girl,” He cooed, covered fingers running between her wet folds. 

     Y/n clenched as his fingers teased her hole, hoping she could keep him out if she clenched hard enough. She heard him tsk before he pulled his hand away and stood up behind her, letting go of her jaw. She turned her body to crawl past him and escape but he was quick to grab the hair on top of her head and kept her in place. The white mask looked down at her as he pressed her mouth against his clothed crotch. Y/n grabbed the ripped fabric of his jeans as his hard cock was pressed against her mouth. 

     She could feel him smiling under the mask and use his free hand to unbutton his jeans. Pulling her away to unzip and pull his hard dick out. Y/n tried pulling away from him but he had a tight grip on her hair. “Open up.” He tapped the red leaky tip against them.

     Y/n pressed her lips in a tight line in protest  He yanked her head back, Y/n letting out a pained moan as her jaw fell open in the process. Giving him the perfect chance to shove himself down her throat. Y/n gagged as his tip quickly hit the back of her throat, the built-up tears falling down her cheeks. 

     “See? Not that hard, is it?” He chuckled behind his masks, hand keeping her pressed down on him

     Y/n hummed to disagree but that did get across. Rather, the man moaned as her throat vibrated against his tip. Pulling his hips back and thrusting back into her mouth. Y/n gripped the frayed fabric of his jeans as he held her still for him to use. A tight grip on her hair that wouldn't let her pull away. 

     Forcing her to look up at him as he used her mouth. His free hand reached behind him and pulled a phone out. Her eyes went wide as she tried to protest. Whines went unheard as he pointed the camera at her. Switching to moving her head up and down rather than thrusting into her mouth. 

     Y/n whined as she tried to push against him only for his whole shaft to be shoved down her throat. Watching his head tilt back before he pulled her off him. Y/n coughed as she caught her breath just for him to laugh at her. Pulling her back down and fucking her throat again. Y/n whined in protest which made him moan. 

     Pulling out of her as he felt himself starting to cum. Some of the semen caught in her mouth while the rest landed on her face. Y/n’s jaw hung open as she closed her eyes, waiting for him to finish

     “Good slut,” He said as he put the phone away and all but pushed her back onto the ground. Getting down on his knees between her legs. Y/n tried backing up but she should’ve known better now. 

     He grabbed her legs and turned her on her stomach. A harsh smack landed on her ass and made her jump before her lower half was lifted. 

     “Look at this pretty cunt,” he said behind her. Y/n felt him spread her folds then two fingers pushing into her. “All nice and warm.”

     Y/n whined and covered her mouth with her boyfriend's sweater sleeves as he quickly pushed his fingers in and out of her. Whining into the cloth as more tears rolled down her face. Thumb moving to rub her clit. Trying her best to ignore his fingers spreading her out. Walls clenched around them as he worked her clit. Gloved fingers curled into her walls as she felt him lean over her back. 

     Grabbing her hands away from her mouth and pinning them in front of her on the floor. “Don't need to hide how good it feels. Having someone fuck your tight cunt open.”

     “It doesn't,” Y/n whined

     “No? Maybe another finger will help.” 

     A third finger entered her before she could protest. A moan left her as her walls spread to accommodate the additional girth. Biting her bottom lip, resting her head against the bedroom floor. The knot in her stomach tightened the more the little bud between her legs was stimulated. Small broken pleas went unheard as they were said into the floor. 

     Her walls clenched around his fingers more and more. Her hips bucked as she was getting closer. Trying not to let the pleasure take over and beg to cum. Not wanting to give that satisfaction. He got it anyway as she let out a loud moan into the carpet and came around his fingers.

     “Feel better now?” He chuckled as his fingers left her. Y/n felt his hand leave her wrist and she daringly looked up a her mirror while she was barely coming out of her high. She saw him up higher on his knees and spreading her cheeks. Feeling his tip sink into her had her trying to get away again, begging him not to. 

     “Take it out, please! I don’t—“

     “Who said you could make orders?” he barked and yanked her head up. Cock sank into her in one thrust. 

     “Cock sleeves don’t talk,” He growled as he watched her jaw fall open. Walls made way for his thick length. 

     “‘M not—“

     Y/n cried as another slap landed on her ass. Effectively cutting her off. 

     “Don’t act all innocent. You were whoring yourself out earlier. All wet and desperate for a dick inside you.”

    The masked man pushed her back on the floor and held her down. Hand on the back of her throat as he started pistoning himself in and out of her. 

     Y/n caught a glimpse of him leaning over her as he pounded into her. Whining with each hit. Still, uselessly, trying to get away from his grip. Each time she attempted she was met with a hard spank that made her jump. 

     “Maybe we should send that little video out. Let your boyfriend know he’s dating a whore.” 

     “No!”

     “Then stop squirming.”

     Y/n whimpered as she lay on the ground, seeing a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. Then he moved his hand from the back of her neck to the front and lifted her head. Making her look in the mirror again. 

     Warm tears ran down her cheeks as his thrusting grew more erratic. Phone camera pointed at the mirror, capturing every movement and reaction. 

     “Gonna fill this little cunt up,” He groaned behind her

     “Please, pull out!” Y/n cried 

     “Mhm? Want me to fill you up?” He questioned, not hearing the last part. 

     “No! Pull out please!” 

     He buried himself in her and filled her sensitive cunt up. Cries left her lips as he dropped her head back to the floor. Y/n looked at him through the mirror. Hips pressed against her ass as he emptied himself inside her. 

     He pulled out after he was for sure finished and spread her folds apart. The camera captured his cum dripping out of her before he flipped her over onto her back. Pulling her legs over his hips as she tried to cover herself. 

     “Haven’t learned yet, slut?” he asked, slapping her thigh and tearing her hand away from her cunt, and running his thumb over her clit. 

     “No more!” Y/n whined, grabbing his wrist 

     “You can handle it,” He answered as he dropped the phone and slid back into her. 

     Y/n moaned as he filled her up again. The masked man chuckled as he rubbed her clit again, feeling her clench around him from the stimulation. Y/n could feel him getting harder inside her while she tried to push him away. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them down against her chest. Adjusting himself to thrust into her again. Her whines turned into moans as she tried to pull her hands away.

     The man hummed as he pressed harder on her clit. Watching her body jerk through the eyes of the mask. No longer trying to squirm away or protest. “There we go,” he chuckled, “Poor slut just needed her clit touched again.”

     “Not… a slut,” Y/n said through her tears. 

     “Sure feels like you are.”

     His speed picked up again, leaning over her body. More moans fell out of her mouth as he rubbed the little bud faster. Feeling her walls contract around his length again, her body jolting ever so slightly. Soon enough she was covering him in her orgasm, arching off the ground and crashing back down. The masked man let go of her wrists but kept his thumb on her clit. Working himself inside of her to another orgasm. Dick twitched inside her as all her words died in her throat from the overstimulation.

     A groan left his throat as he came inside her again. Pushing a second load deep inside her. Stopping his movement on her clit and laying both his hands next to her head, leaning over her body. 

     After a moment, Chan took off the movie mask and set it to the side. Tossing the gloves off next before running a hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. 

     “You okay baby girl?” He asked 

     “Mhmm,” Y/n nodded, a smile on her face.

     “Sleepy now?” Chan asked as he pressed a kiss to her neck

     “Yeah,” Y/n answered

     “Stay awake for me long enough to get you cleaned up? Then we can go to sleep, have a lazy day tomorrow?” Chan suggested 

     “Sounds nice,” Y/n said

     “Okay, princess. I’m gonna pull out then we're gonna take a bath.”

     Y/n nodded as Chan gently pulled out of her. Y/n made a small whine before he sat her up and pulled his jacket off her. Helping her into their bathroom and setting her on the toilet while he started the bath. 

     Leaving momentarily to grab her clothes and coming back. Filling up the tub before gently placing her in the warm water and getting behind her. Washing her body and leaving little kisses and praise in her skin. 

     “Feel okay princess?”

     “Just tired,” She grumbled

     “Hmm. Can you turn around so I can wash your face?”

     Y/n slowly turned around to face him as Chan cleaned her skin and rinsed it off before letting her fall against his chest.

♱ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[rootedinrevisions]

Such a Tease

SUMMARY: Jake is stuck at base for a mind-numbing training session, while you’re home enjoying a much-needed day off. Bored and missing him, you decide to have a little fun by slipping into his favorite lacy lingerie and sending him a few teasing photos. What starts as playful fun turns into a tantalizing game of anticipation as Jake struggles to focus on anything other than getting home to you—and making you pay for being such a tease.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I'm a little late getting this one posted. Work and life got the best of me today! But here is Day 1 of the Kinktober prompts!

PROMPT: "Damn, you're such a tease."

KINK: Sexting/Sending NSFW Pictures.

WARNINGS: Sexting/Sending NSFW Pictures.

WORD COUNT: 562

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

It was one of those rare days off, the kind where you could lounge around the apartment, free from any obligations or stress. You had the place to yourself, and although it was peaceful, something was missing: Jake.

Jake was stuck at base, caught up in yet another training session. You could practically hear his groans when he left this morning, muttering about how he could fly his aircraft blindfolded and still ace this review. You’d been texting back and forth with him all morning, and from the sound of it, he was bored out of his mind.

You’d been missing him too—his presence, his touch, the playful banter you shared. And then an idea popped into your head. You glanced toward your dresser, your lips curling into a mischievous smile as you remembered Jake's favorite lacy lingerie set tucked inside.

A little fun wouldn’t hurt, right?

Grinning, you slipped into the soft, delicate fabric, adjusting the lace until it fit perfectly against your skin. The deep, sultry red contrasted beautifully with your complexion, and you couldn’t help but admire the way it hugged your curves. You knew this set drove Jake crazy—he’d told you so more than once.

You grabbed your phone and posed in front of the mirror, snapping a few playful shots. One with you standing straight, one where you tugged the hem of the lace teasingly, and one of you sitting on the edge of the bed, just enough skin showing to keep it innocent… yet tempting.

With a smirk, you sent the first picture to Jake, captioning it with a simple, “Miss you.”

You barely had to wait a minute before your phone buzzed. Jake’s name lit up the screen, and you opened the message to see his reply: “Damn, you’re such a tease.”

You giggled, feeling a rush of satisfaction. It was good to know you could get to him, even when he was stuck in a stuffy classroom. But you weren’t done yet.

Biting your lip, you snapped another picture—this time lying on the bed, your body half-covered by the sheets. The lacy set peeked out just enough to leave plenty to the imagination, but still give Jake something to think about.

“Thought you could use a distraction. How’s that training going?” you typed, hitting send.

His response came back almost instantly: “Training? What training? All I’m thinking about now is how fast I can get home.”

You could practically picture him shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to focus on anything but the images you’d sent.

Feeling playful, you teased him again. “Aw, don’t you still have a few hours left? Guess you’ll just have to be patient.”

Another message buzzed in: “You’re killing me, sweetheart. Wait ‘til I get home. We’ll see who’s teasing who.”

You felt a warm shiver run down your spine at his words, knowing full well what was waiting for you once Jake finally got back. But for now, you enjoyed the thought of him struggling through his training session, knowing you had him wrapped around your finger.

Leaning back against the pillows, you smiled to yourself, imagining how this little game would play out once Jake was home. His frustration would build throughout the day, and by the time he walked through that door, he’d be ready to turn the tables on you in the best possible way.

[nyuoqi]

            — SO I MARRIED MY ANTI-FAN     ౨ৎ     SES

O2O.    eunseok vs seunghan

✸ SYNOPSIS !  : congratulations! you have been invited to korea's #1 romance reality show 'We Got Married' where you will be living with your co-star like a married couple. but what will you do when you find out that your husband is actually your anti-fan?

author's note 𐬹 ۫ ۪  feels so good to be back :)

(1.98k words, not proofread)

YOU WANDER AROUND THE APARTMENT in search of any entertainment, bored out of your mind. Today is a day-off for you, Eunseok and the production team. Which means that there are no cameras filming you for today, giving you the freedom of doing whatever it is you want to do.

The day went by quickly as you spent it on nothing but your phone; texting Seunghan who has somewhat become your new friend and scrolling through your social media.

It is during near your bedtime when you realise how unproductive you have been today. So you decide to put your phone away and wander around the apartment in search of anything to entertain you.

The sight of Eunseok setting up his phone in the living room stops you in your tracks when suddenly an idea comes up in your mind. Grinning to yourself, you walk up towards Eunseok on your tippy toes to surprise him.

Eunseok on the other hand isn't exactly cluless to your plan. He has his back facing you as he struggles to find a good angle where he can balance his phone while simultaneously move his hands freely. His front camera mirroring him. 

At the corner of the screen, Eunseok catches the sight of you creeping up on him, the mischievous glint in your eyes couldn't have been more obvious. Eunseok struggles to hold back a grin the more he sees you, finding you absolutely adorable.

"I can see you, you know? " He says with a laugh, his back still facing you.

You visibly stiffen for a few seconds, your lips falling into a soft pout and your eyes looking defeated. Eunseok observes you from the screen of his phone, the grin he is holding back now displayed in a toothy way.

"Do you want me to pretend I didn't see you the first time so that you can surprise me? " He suggests with a playful tone. Your pout deepen and it seems as if you don't appreciate his suggestion.

Eunseok's grin grows bigger if possible, finding you absolutely adorable when sulking.

"Come here, sit beside me. Don't think I haven't realised how you were basically pacing around the apartment for the past 15 minutes. " He says as he taps the empty spot beside him.

You don't hesitate to head over towards him and occupy both the spot beside him and his personal space as you lean forward on his arms. You then grab one of his arms and drapes it on your stomach, cocooning yourself into his warmth.

The small intimate act makes Eunseok lightheaded as butterflies erupt in his stomach. That must've been due to the amount of chocolate he has consumed today, mustn't it? 

Eunseok fail to even believe his own words the moment the tip of ears turns pink, making him slowly lose focus.

"What are you doing? " You ask your husband who has been fixing the position of his phone for the past few minutes, seemingly trying to find the perfect angle. You tilt your head up to meet Eunseok's gaze, unconsciously snuggling closer to him. "Are you trying to take a picture? Could've just asked me you know, I'm pretty good at taking pictures. "

Eunseok almost laugh at your assumption. If only you know the real reason he's setting up the camera, you would probably be frowning and asking him why. You probably will also have your eyebrows meet from an adorable frown.

"I'm gonna have a video call with my members, why? " He says softly, finally getting the angle he's looking for. He leans back on the couch and pulls you along with him. He's cautious though, fearing that you are able to hear his loud heartbeat if he pulls you in closer.

You say nothing as you scroll on your phone, giggling to yourself at a silly cat video on your TikTok For You page. You lightly tap on Eunseok's arm to show him the video, your giggles only getting louder as you keep on rewatching the video.

After the video replays for three times, you finally lift your head up to take a look at Eunseok's reaction. Surprise overtakes your body when you catch Eunseok staring into your eyes.

He doesn't stop— no, he continues to stare at you even when he gets caught in the headlights.

Your cheeks grow warm. You want to look away and bury your face in the pillow beside you, maybe you might even pretend he wasn't just staring at you. However, you somehow just cannot take your eyes off of him.

The same thing goes for Eunseok.

A vibration from your phone causes you to look away from him. You fish put the small device from your back pocket and check the notification. Seunghan has sent you a message.

hannie ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

eunseok is about to beat my ass via discord Pls help me. 🙏

Your eyes narrow at the text message, a confused hum escaping your mouth. Eunseok takes note of the sound and glances at your phone. He immediately sees the text message sent from Seunghan.

You know Eunseok is watching your screen so you simply turn to look at him. "What does he mean by this? " You tilt your head, confused. 

Eunseok opens his mouth to answer but he struggles to find the right words for it that won't make him sound insane. You tilt your head further and Eunseok finds himself getting distracted by your beauty.

You look so adorable from this angle, he thinks. The position is perfect. He has your back pressed against his chest as his right arm rests on your shoulders. Your rounded eyes looking straight into his. The smell of your sweet body lotion invades his nose and he loves it so much. Most importantly, the warmth of your body provides comfort to him— like a soft blanket on a chilly autumn evening.

A loud ringing sound coming from Eunseok's phone causes the both of you to break the eye contact. Eunseok hesitates but the sound is too loud to his liking.

He looks at the phone he has just set up snd see an upcoming discord video call from 'RIZZLERSSS 😏🔥'. He sighs deeply, reaching out to decline the call. However you stop him, asking him if it's Riize's discord server.

"Are your members in there? " Your eyes sparkles when you turn to look at Eunseok again. He hesitates a bit but eventually mutters a small yes. You gasp, your body turning around to face his as your left hand touches his right shoulder. "Can I talk to them, please? "

Eunseok wants to decline, knowing the true nature of the video call. However the sparkles in your eyes are just too captivating. Actually, it might be your touch on his shoulder because he swears he can feel himself getting hypnotised. He can't say no to you anymore.

"Of course. " His smile crooks as the words leave his mouth, yet he presses on the accept call button, putting both of you in the call.

"No we can't cancel this, how else am I supposed to see you guys e-fighting? " Sungchan says to Seunghan who is trying to convince everyone to leave the call.

They continue to bicker for a little while until Wonbin points out the small screen with you and Eunseok inside. "Is that Eunseok— and Y/n? " He says, confused.

You give him a little wave along with a smile. Unmuting the mic, you greet them excitedly. "Hi everyone. Hi Seunghan! " You wave a little more enthusiastically at Seunghan, missing the way Eunseok's eyes narrows at it. The rest of the members looking uneasy, especially Seunghan.

"Where's Sohee? " Anton asks, trying to break the ice. Everyone only realising then that one of their maknaes are missing. Shotaro shrugs, "Probably blowing up the toilet. I saw him eating the 2x spicy buldak for dinner. "

The call is silent for a few seconds. No one knowing what to say. Normally, their call has never been silent. However, the presence of you makes a few of them shuffle in their seats awkwardly.

"You know what fuck this. " Sungchan says before clapping his hands. "Welcome everyone— and Y/n— to the fight of Eunseok and Seunghan! "

You frown in confusion, your body turning back around to face Eunseok. "What do you mean fight? You're gonna fight Seunghan? How, virtually? " 

Eunseok's body tenses for a moment, his eyes not meeting yours. Instead, he looks over to his members over the call and sends a help signal through his eyes.

Sungchan chuckles awkwardly, his hand rubbing his nape. "Well Y/n, Eunseok here is super jealous of Seunghan for getting your attention so we, as per his request, set up this call for them to fight! " He ends his speech with a toothy grin.

"Is this what this is about Eunseok, you're jealous? " Your tone unbelievable at the newly found information. "Is this why you were grumpy this morning? " A chuckle leaving your lips this time.

Eunseok finally looks down on you and nods sheepishly, his lips pursed together. "I mean, I'm your husband and this is supposed to be our honeymoon yet you're giving Seunghan all the attention. "

You laugh louder this time, the sound of it resonating within the four walls of your living room. "So you're telling me you did all this just because you were upset I didn't give you my attention? Oh Eunseok... " 

Your eyes look at him with sympathy but your lips are teasing him with a smile. "You're so cute when you're jealous. Now tell me, what do I have to do for you to stop jumping on Seunghan? " Your hands reach up to pinch on his naturally flushed cheeks.

"Follow me on twitter. " Eunseok mumbles quietly, embarrassed at his own request. You tilt your head, not catching his words. "What did you say? "

Eunseok turns his head away from you, refusing to look into your eyes as he repeats his words louder, "Follow me on twitter. "

Did you hear that right? There's no way Eunseok is telling you to follow him on Twitter only because he's jealous with Seunghan. You must've been hearing things wrong and it seems as if everyone else are thinking the same.

"Eunseok be so fucking for real. " Seunghan is the first one to break the awkward silence. One nasty look from Eunseok is enough to shut him up.

"Okay guys, not too much on Eunseok, he's just jealous. " You defend, surpassing a smile. Eunseok opens his mouth in protest but gets cut off by you, "Now if you guys don't mind, we will be leaving the call because apparently my super jealous husband wants me to follow him on Twitter. Bye! "

The small screen that belongs to you and Eunseok disappears the moment you leave the call. You laugh and pinch Eunseok's cheek after you press the 'follow' button on his account. 

"You're so silly sometimes. " You say, your nose scrunching as a result of you smiling a little bit too hard. Eunseok can't help himself from grinning like an idiot, shamelessly admiring how pretty you look like when you smile.

"Yeah, I guess I kinda am. " He replies with flushed cheeks.

On the other side, a beat of silence passes by after you leave the meeting. The members look at each other in confusion until Shotaro speaks up for the first time that night, "What the fuck. "

Sohee, who joins the meeting late as a result of him blowing up the toilet looks at everyone in confusion. "Where's Eunseok? Why are you guys so quiet? " He asks.

Sumgchan shakes his head, still stunned, "I don't know either man. "

yn's new priv's layout btw:

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[bluesidez]

Bless Your Heart | 1. HELLO, MY OLD FRIEND

You're nervous, wary of your new environment, but you're excited to take on the challenge of becoming a ranch hand. Meeting the O'Hara brothers is sure to stray you one way or another.

tread lightly ⋆⋆⋆ humor, Miguel is...difficult, mentions of food, animals, animal manure, I think that's it!

word count ⋆⋆⋆ 5.6k (shoutout to the beta, DA WIFE!! @slushycoookie 💚)

note on the fridge ⋆⋆⋆ Special shoutouts to @opaloharas @monarchberrysblog @miguelhugger2099 @hysterical-reblogging as well as the Miggy server for guiding me with this story! It would still be in the drafts without y'all. Huge thanks to my beta Cookie! 🥺 I can't begin to say how much you've helped me. It would literally take up 20+ pages. JUST KNOW! THAT YOU ROCK!

last | next ℧ masrterlist ℧ AO3

JULY

You didn’t know you’d be back in the south so soon. A part of you wanted to laugh at yourself for crawling back to the place that you swore you’d leave behind.

Growing up here can be rewarding, but the itch to escape the fear that others placed on the outside world to make your own decisions rushed through your body every year.

So, you did just that.

You broke free of the grasps of superstitious aunts, traditional geezers, and terrified grandparents. You spread your wings to the city. You traveled the world. You got to know family that knew the ins-and-outs of various transportation systems better than you ever could.

And yet in those small, almost insignificant, moments, you found yourself yearning for the South.

You missed the way the air smelt before it rained. The expanse of land as far as the eye could see. The warmth of your closest family who never quite understood your ambitions, but urged you to chase after them anyway. The taste of grease and hot food, no one else in the world could match those down-to-earth flavors.

You missed home.

Subconsciously, you found the South in the things you did.

In the way you added packets of sugar to any tea you had because apparently no one knows what sweet tea is.

In the way you called people “ma’am” and “sir” when you weren’t really thinking about it.

In the way you had a little saying for every circumstance.

In the way you suddenly started to crave butter pecan ice cream as if you were in your 40s.

Still, home didn’t exactly mean back under your parents’ roof. You didn’t miss home that much, enough to have a curfew at your big age. You figured that if you were going to move back, it would be to an area where you could at least catch the nearest flight to some far off land.

The advertisement to be a ranch hand was a bit obscure, but the doodle of the big family on the corner of it was enough to sell it to you. It probably wasn’t the best idea to pack everything up so soon, but the pay was so unbelievable that you decided to test fate.

Your own family would have a heart attack. First, you were going to be almost in the middle of nowhere and second, you were going to be doing hard labor. Definitely not the little girl they watched grow up anymore.

It all felt surreal.

The sun was beating down on your legs through the windshield of a taxi-van. No tint was a match for this heat. You could hear your suitcases and bags rattling in the back with the one box of things you just couldn’t sell. You weren’t throwing away pots and pans, and no one wanted to buy your old dragonfly lamp.

The driver was a nice old man who spoke to you like you were a long lost relative, but he was starting to get way too quiet for your liking, and, like an idiot, you didn’t put the address in your phone. The service was spotty and all you could see was miles and miles of tall trees and power lines.

You leaned back and hugged your purse close to your body, letting out a quiet huff.

“You nervous?” the man asks.

You panned your eyes from a “Honey For Sale” sign to look at the rearview mirror.

“A little. But, you gotta jump in with both feet, you know?”

Such a light answer for what could be a walk right into your untimely disappearance.

Or budding success. You weren’t sure yet.

“That’s right. Wish I could get you to say that to my daughter. All she wanna do is lay around and watch TV all day.”

“Well,” your heart picks up as he takes a turn. The land was huge, red gates covering acres of green land and a few buildings spread across it. “I’m sure she has her reasons. Just give her time.”

He laughed as he pulled up to the gate, “Ain’t that much time in the world. Do you need me to drive further?”

“No, right here is fine, I’ll just drag everything through.”

You were quick to get out and get your things, body running on adrenaline. The cash you handed him was some of the last bit you had left. You're tense, wary of the new environment, but more than anything, you were excited for something new.

“Sure you don’t want me to drive a little closer? Those houses are far.”

“I think here is good. Don’t want to startle anybody.”

“Alright,” he slams the trunk and gets back to the driver’s seat. “You be safe now.”

With a quiet thanks and a wave, you watch his van back out of the rocky path. The dust under the tires makes you cough.

Roughed up combat boots scratch against the rocks in the path as you move to open the gate. It creaks loudly as you push past and the wooden sign burned with an H-marked spider jolts against it.

The person you were contacting said to just come on in once you got here. No number to call, no person to look for, no dress code.

Out in the open, you could hear cows talking to each other and birds singing their tunes. The wheels of your suitcase against the trail become the back beat of their song.

The land was truly beautiful, the few homes standing tall and proud against the plains. A small pond was at your right, ducks and mosquitoes floating over the top.

Following the path, you walked until you reached the first person you could find, the blurry image of reds, blues, and browns coming to form him.

A tall glass of water, taller than any other man you’ve ever met. You were sure if he ever fell off of a horse, it would be a hard flight to the ground.

The hair peeking from under his hat was as brown and curly as the chocolate shavings you’d see on grocery store cakes. The skin you could see was a rich caramel, hidden in the shade of dark felt.

You scanned the expanse of his back, wondering how he worked in clothes that made you feel hot just looking at them. Even with the shadow of the rim, sweat was still beating down his neck and soaking up the collar of his plaid button down.

A thick belt was snug around his waist and his jeans were mighty tight. Dirt caked the hem of them and walking your eyes up, every white stitch was accounted for. A name was on his back pocket, but it was too thin, too scrambled to see.

Dragging a hefty suitcase across the rocky path, you got closer to him, and with an extended hand and a polite smile, you introduce yourself.

“You needed a ranch hand?”

He turns his head to the side, barely acknowledging you, and turns back with a grumble, “Of course, this is the person I end up with.”

Your brows furrow, “What was that?”

“Nothing. You can put your stuff in the guest house. Join me at the barn in five minutes.”

“Do you have a name or were you never taught any manners?”

He stopped fiddling with the broken buckle of a saddle and turned completely towards you, “You talk back to all your bosses on the first day?”

Thick eyebrows lowered as he squinted at you and your breath hitched. If his hair was chocolate shavings, then his eyes were the mocha cake topped with swirls of coffee icing.

No man needed eyelashes that pretty nor lips that perfect and full. His arms were crossed as he stood there, body barely contained in his clothes. No man deserved to be that big with a striking face to match.

It was dangerous.

“Most bosses give me their names,” you drop your stretched hand, and the air lulls between you two. The purse across your body felt like it was digging in your skin. “Or at least a greeting.”

“Well, you’ll learn pretty quickly that I’m not most bosses.”

You bite your tongue, watching as he goes back to what he’s doing. That southern drawl in his voice was lingering in your mind as you realized that he truly meant what he said.

There was no proper introduction, no tour, no beginner’s manual.

Breathing deep you try again, “Can you point me in the right direction?”

His head flicks to the right, stance unmoving like a pillar. The three houses were all that were left and the barn was in another direction.

Gripping the handle again, you made your way back to the trail.

With a hand over your eyes to block the sun, you wonder if the guy from earlier would care if you passed out in the middle of the road. The distance between the houses and the animals feels further than it needed to be.

“Hey, hey, hey! Where ya heading?”

You slow your pace, unsure if the man sitting on a swinging bench was talking to you or someone else.

“Well, don’t just stand there. C’mon!” he waves over with the excitement of a little kid. “I don’t bite.”

Getting closer, the guy grunts as he stands and wipes his hands on his jeans. He’s just as tall as the first man you met, but he looks lighter, happier.

He smiles as you pull your bag to the porch, brown lips stretching to show pretty teeth. He tips his felt hat off, and when he steps into the light, the sun dances across his eyes, bits of brown tapping along a hazel base.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he sticks out a hand and places his hat back, something you expected the first man to do. “I’m Gabriel O’Hara. Welcome to The Huntsman Farms! ‘Where the stallions roam free.’”

You shake his hand with no hesitation, noting the strength in his grip, the roughness of his fingertips, “Thank you, I’m glad to be here. Although, I’m not sure if your buddy was informed?”

Gabriel pauses, then looks over to the paddock with a grimace, “Uh, he’s not too fond of visitors. A little bit of a stick in the mud. Sorry about that. I promise he’s all hat and no cattle. Figuratively.”

“That hat is pretty tall, then. He did mention a guest house in this general direction.”

“And to that guest house, I will guide you.”

He grabs your case and lifts it up with ease, turning to go behind one of the most stark-white houses you’ve ever seen.

There was a slight limp in his stride, noticeable enough for you to want to grab everything back, but watching him walk in front of you was entrancing.

Another pair of thighs and calves that fill denim cuts just before they make room to cover his boots. The brown belt hugged his waist nicely and the expanse of his back rooted itself in his t-shirt.

Sweat was building on your scalp.

Were all the men on this farm that built?

“So, is it your first time in this neck of the woods?”

You blink, “In Texas?”

“In the countryside, hun.”

“Oh, no! Born and raised in the South. I have plenty of family that lived in the country. I wouldn’t call myself a connoisseur of all things country, though.”

“As long as you can stand the heat, I think you’ll be alright. Had a guy sign up for the job and he passed out on the first day. Poor thing couldn’t tell a calf from a kid.”

“Well, Mr. O’Hara, I can assure you that I know that much. And a little heat never hurt anybody.”

“Glad to hear it,” he laughs. “And please, call me Gabriel. It’s a heap of O’hara’s on this land alone. Gotta keep track.”

You hum in understanding, thinking back to the family name on the advertisement.

Looking to the backyard next to the path, you notice a wooden playset with hot pink spray paint fading away to green on the slide. There’s a giant tree with a lone tire swing and a red wagon piled with lantanas and pink ladies under it.

The guest house matches the atmosphere of the playful area: pale teal wood with a chocolate brown door and window shutters. Three rocky steps lead to a welcome mat shaped like a cloud, and a few shrubs run along the edge of the house.

Gabriel steps on the stones, body stiff as he places your suitcase right by the door.

“Are you the owner?” you find yourself asking, steering your mind away from its earlier spiral.

He straightens up as he unlocks the door, grin prominent even though he wasn’t facing you.

“You could say that. I pride myself on taking care of the critters when I can,” the door creaks and he finally uses the handle of your bag to pull it in. “No unhappy chickens. No angry bulls. Unless I’m on one.”

“You’re a bull rider? Are you pulling my leg, Gabriel?”

“Oh, I wish someone was pulling mine. This last sucker got me good. I didn’t stretch that well before I got on ‘em and my bullfighters were scattered. Next thing I know, I’m in the air with three seconds left and my fingers slipping from the rope. Then, boom! Landed on the gate with one ankle in between the bars and a pull so deep, I’m on fire.”

Gritting your teeth and breathing in air through the gaps, your muscles tense like you were there.

“God, are you ok?”

“Well, you’re still staring at this pretty face, ain’t you?”

A laugh you didn’t know you had in you finds its way out. Gabriel’s smile grows, shining just under the rim of his hat. He switched the light on as he joined you, hands on his hips as he looked around the room.

It was cozy and compact with the kitchen mere steps away from the living room you walked into. Sunlight coated the room with stripes through the barely open blinds and a “Home Is Where The Heart Is” sign stood out on the wall next to the entrance.

The colors were similar to the exterior, blues and browns with a splash of white.

“I do hope you can come to love it here. I know it’s not much, but whatever you need, I’ll do what I can to help you out.”

“Thank you so much. This was actually a lot more than I was expecting, honestly. The ad was a little ambiguous.”

“What’s life without a little fun?”

“A boring one according to you. I do have more stuff all the way back at the gate that I should get to before it’s seen as garbage.”

“Oh, you stop that,” Gabriel says, blocking your exit. “I’ll get my guys to bring it in later. You go ahead and get settled and I’ll check out your ACs before I leave you. You’ll need it.”

He stomped his shoes a bit then switched on the living room box. The stuffiness of the air lifted and the cool breeze and hum of the AC unit took over. He turns the corner and you open the blinds next to the couch, opening up the room even more.

Ten seconds and a blink later you hear a scream so high, you think one of the goats may have found its way into the home.

Running after the sound, you park behind Gabriel to see what caused the commotion.

In the bedroom with the light skirting around the curtains stood a tall creature with a head of flying fur. It had antennas that moved at a steady rhythm and a bend that felt irregular, strange to the eye.

Gabriel was leaning on the doorway, hands slapping against the wallpaper with short breath.

When he flipped the lights you gasp as the biggest, sleekest cat you’ve ever seen stands on its hind legs and kneads the air. Its eyes are a bright green, standing out against its jet-black fur as it stares at you unamused.

“Gabbie!” Gabriel shouts, moving to bend and breathe a sigh of relief. “Baby girl, don’t do that. You know my heart can’t take it.”

A little girl ducks out from behind the cat’s head with a toothy smile and a pocket of giggles in her chest. She lets her cat down who only weaves between her legs, nearly knocking her over. Her hair is wild, thick dark brown fly-aways escaping what you think is a ponytail.

“Daddy said when you say that, it only means that you’re actually scared!”

“Your daddy don’t know whether to scratch his watch or check his ass. Don’t listen to him.”

“Are you here to help on the farm?” she asks you.

“Why yes I am-”

“Baby girl, you know that’s not how you greet people. Get it right,” Gabriel chides.

She huffs, hair bouncing as she looks down at her feet. Her hands go behind her back, embarrassed.

“‘M sorry, ma’am,” she mumbles, thick eyebrows furrowed.

Her cat sits in front of her and meows low, body stretching up to place its paws on her shoulders. It started to rub against her face, purring loud and content.

Your heart tugged at the scene. It reminded you of yourself, getting fussed at for the smallest things.

Walking next to her, you squat to match her level.

“It’s ok, sweetie. You didn’t mean me any harm,” you place your hands in your lap as you look at her.

Her cheeks are full and her eyelashes are long. There’s a bandaid on her chin and from here you can see that her hair is stretched and curly, barely contained in a scrunchie trying to hold it all together. If she hadn’t confirmed it already, you would think she’s Gabriel’s daughter, a mole under her bottom lip matching the one on his jaw, but those eyebrows were reminiscent of the man from before.

“Tell you what, I’ll tell you my name, and you can tell me you and your kitty’s names. Deal?”

“Deal!”

You learn that her name is Gabriella and her cat is a Maine Coon named Jade, like the Bratz doll.

“Because his eyes are green like her’s! And he’s a cool cat. Did you know that ‘Kool Kat’ is Jade’s nickname?”

“I wouldn’t be a girl with a passion for fashion if I didn’t.”

She giggles, sienna eyes sparkling as she claps her hands.

“Want to see my dolls? We can play dress-up. And have a party! Oh, oh! I have tiaras for me and my cats. You can borrow one!”

“Gabbie.”

“I can push you on the swing and introduce you to the baby cows and ride the four-wheeler.”

“Baby girl.”

“And we can do parties! My birthday already passed, though. I’m 8! How old are you?”

“Gabriella,” Gabriel says louder. His hands are on his hips as he gives her a knowing look. “I know you hear me calling you. And you never ask a lady her age. That’s rude, baby girl.”

She pouts again and nods, picking up her cat from under its armpits. Jade sticks his tongue out and starts kneading once more.

“Now go run off and play. She needs to start her work, ok? If you do right, maybe she’ll play with you later.”

“Ok, Tío.”

Gabriel turns and leaves the room but before Gabriella can get too far, you tap her shoulder and urge her back with a finger. You cup your hands over your mouth and that glow is back in her eyes.

“28,” you whisper in her ear.

She leans back and smiles against the top of her cat’s head.

“You really are a princess,” she whispers back. She shuffles off before Gabriel can fuss again and you follow.

He guides her through the entryway, watching through the screen door as she and Jade run back to the main house.

“Sorry about that. I think she snuck in here while we were getting it ready.”

“It’s fine. She’s a cutie pie. I don’t mind at all.”

“Yeah, that she is,” he sighed. “One look at that face and you’re a goner.”

Looking at him, you could tell that those words were accurate. He couldn’t even hold his authority for too long.

“Did Miguel have something for you to do? I wanted to get Gabbie out of your hair, but there’s no telling what he has planned. He’s been running all over the ranch like a chicken with his head cut off.”

“Who?”

Gabriel snickered and looked to the side.

“I know it’s hot but don’t go forgetting stuff on me so soon, honey.”

“No, I, I really don’t know who Miguel is. Was that the first man I saw? Tall? Long hair? Wouldn’t look me in the eye?”

Gabriel’s head dipped as he slumped against the door.

“O’Hara’s. A line full of knuckleheads, I tell you,” he mumbles. “C’mon.”

“Even without a watch, I’m sure that you know it’s been more than five minutes.”

You rub a wrist over your temple, swiping away sweat. Gabriel clicks his teeth next to you.

“Look, if this is how you’re going to act with basic tasks, you won’t make it far here.”

“Really?” Gabriel answers for you.

Miguel turns, letting go of the stall he was unlocking.

“Thought you had business to tend to.”

“And I expected you to show some respect, so I guess we’re both up the creek without a paddle.”

“What do you want, Gabriel?”

“For starters, you should apologize to this lovely woman.”

“Apologize for what?”

“For being a jackass. We finally get some help around here and you can’t even muster up a smile on that square head of yours.”

“The same square head that your mama blessed you with?”

“The same one that I’m about to knock up against the barrels if you don’t quit it.”

Miguel smirked and started to roll up his sleeves. Your eyes zero in on his thick, sturdy arms decorated with hair. His muscles flex as his fingers fiddle with a button on his cuff.

“I’d like to see you try. You can barely stand straight right now.”

Gabriel takes his hat off and places it over a lasso hook, then cracks his neck. Your stomach lurches and you can’t tell if it’s because your brain has deluded you into thinking that they’re fighting over you, or if you’re actually nervous about two men well over six feet about to roll around in dirt.

As Miguel loses his hat and his hair falls to frame his face, you think the first option sounds more pleasing.

You back up as quietly as you can, the two of them shouting curses at each other so loudly that they don’t even notice your movements.

“I can’t believe you want this nice lady to see you on your ass.”

“And I can’t believe you still don’t know when to mind your own.”

“Your own is my own,” Gabriel bites back.

A crunch behind you grabs your attention.

Jade looks up at you, one eye scrunched as he munches on a bug. A tiny, sparkly pink cowboy hat adorns his head. Looking further, Gabriella looks up at you with big brown eyes.

The boys were only getting louder.

“Excuse me,” you interrupt them. “As much as this is entertaining me, little ears are listening.”

You point to the entrance where Gabriella is doing the worst job of hiding. Her fingers stand out against the white opening and Jade’s tail stands tall and curved. He makes a stunted meow as the attention falls on him.

In a heartbeat, their demeanors change. Balled up fists loosen and shirts unravel. They both drop to the ground, Gabriel struggling, and beckon her closer.

For once, Miguel looks softer, at ease.

“Hey, sunshine,”

Gabriella walks fast to get to him, hands fiddling together. Once she’s in his arms, he cradles her, kissing her cheek softly.

“Were you and Tío Gabri fighting?”

“No, no baby girl. We weren’t fighting.”

“Yeah, we were just talking,” Gabriel agrees, smoothing back her hair that shoots right back up afterward. “Just some brotherly love, is all.”

“Then why is your shirt all messed up?”

She points to Gabriel’s stretched collar and picks at a loose button on Miguel’s.

“One of the horses might have gotten a hold of it.”

“Yeah, Tío’s right, Bubba was a little late with feeding time today. Magenta might have gotten hungry.”

Gabriella twists her lip.

“Tío, you know Magenta doesn’t like boys! What if she ate you up?”

Gabriel laughs before he can even think of a response, eyes warm as he takes in the seriousness of his niece’s face. With her eyebrows pinched like that, she was the spitting image of her father, scowl and all.

“Well, thank God you’re here to rescue me. Your daddy was no help at all.”

“If Magenta can’t stand you, what makes you think she wants to see me?”

Gabriel sneered at Miguel who only shrugged back.

“What were you hiding for anyway, Gabbie? I thought I told you to go play.”

She stares at her fingers, chin tucked away into her chest. Miguel rubs her arm, silently encouraging her, while Gabriel tilts his head and waits.

“I,” her eyes glance at you then back down. “I just wanted to see her again.”

When Gabriella says your name, it’s like everything sparkles around her. Like there’s bubbles and glitter in the air.

Miguel rolled your name on his tongue. He took you in and looked at you with more than just disdain underlining his skin.

Getting up without letting his daughter go, then helping Gabriel off the ground, he acknowledges you.

“Can you ride a horse?”

Your tongue slides over your teeth in your mouth. It’s not missed on you the way he watches you shift your weight, eyes calculating and stern.

“No. No, I can’t.”

Miguel looks at Gabriel out of the corner of his eye.

“That’s completely fine. Not nothing none of us can’t teach you,” Gabriel supplies.

“I could teach you!” Gabriella perks up, body jerking in her father’s hold, but his body remains still.

You smile at her in thanks as Gabriel continues.

“Have you ever milked a cow? A goat?”

“Once,” Gabriel looks hopeful and Miguel’s eyebrow raises. “At a museum. It was a simulation.”

“Hear that Gabri? They’re doing simulations for cows now.”

“Can you,” Gabriel ignored his brother completely, “plant something in the soil?”

“Absolutely. My mama has a garden and I planted things with my grandma before.”

Gabriel lights up as he turns and hits Miguel on the shoulder with glee.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your last plant died. Nor that the last time you were helping your grandma was when you were three years old and completely in her way.

“So you can operate a shovel?”

“Yes, I can do that much.”

“Great,” Miguel says. “I know the perfect task for you.”

Excited, you thought nothing of the calmness in Miguel’s voice. His tone and drawl mixed with Gabriel’s sweetness were like a lullaby sinking you slowly to the ground.

Right about now, you’d say the wrong ground got a hold of you.

Grunting, you stick a scoop shovel under the pile of shit in the corner of the stall.

It was gunky and rancid. For such a tiny area, there was so much of it piled high. You mourned the complete loss of your trusty shoes as you practically slid over it to gather up more.

“You know, cow manure is actually something that we farmers just can’t get enough of,” Gabriel stands by what you deemed the shit-truck. “It helps us so much. Keeps those crops coming.”

“So why isn’t said Farmer One and Two shoveling it with me?”

Surprisingly, nothing splashes out with the way you bang your shovel against the truck bedding.

Miguel was off somewhere. Probably thinking you weren’t cut out for this.

“Oh honey, this is looking like the same shit I picked up yesterday morning. This truck hadn’t even hit the road yet. ”

You stick your shovel in the ground and cross your forearms over the handle. Gabriel looks at you apologetically, but the chuckle in him doesn’t stay contained.

Miguel was a jackass.

“The cows don’t even mess up where they sleep this bad no way,” he continued. “I was so busy getting your house ready and fixing up things for the rodeo, I was able to move this out the way for composting.”

There was a rodeo to prepare for and yet Miguel still found time to give useless, stinky, busy work.

Not only was he a jackass, he was a dickhead, too.

You get back to work, choosing to imagine that you were throwing manure across Miguel’s face rather than getting mad at the flies whose home you were destroying.

Gabriel stays. Whether it’s for moral support or to laugh at your agony, you’re not sure, but his commentary cools you down.

As the last school of gunk hits the large pile in the bed, you really think you could muster up enough energy to strangle your boss. You could barely see through to the front of the truck.

“Thank you kindly,” Gabriel taps the bunk. “I don’t really like Miguel’s methods of…”

“Hazing? Torture? Deceit?”

“…testing,” he finishes. “But, if anything, you showed me you’re willing and ready to work. It’s a lot more than this last, what, ten? Twelve or so ‘ranch hands’ have done in the first weeks.”

You relax a bit, “So, I’ve got the job?”

“Had it when you told Miguel off at the paddock.”

He pats your shoulder as he shuffles to the driver’s seat.

“Go rest up. We got a busy day tomorrow and you start to smell like you’re the one that dealt it whenever you deal with manure.”

Grimacing, you nod in agreement. Your blouse would be better off in a garbage chute at this point.

Gabriel hikes himself in the driver’s seat and yells out before he leaves.

“Be out here at 7 AM sharp tomorrow! Don’t be late or it’ll be worse things to do than this. Left you some dinner on the table and some food in the fridge. We’ll handle shopping later.”

The truck moves and you panic, watching the pile fall into itself. Gabriel is driving far too fast.

Once he becomes more of a pebble in the distance and the sun is starting to hide behind he trees, you take a sniff at your clothes and gag.

You’re not sure if the world's strongest detergent and chlorine gas could get the smell out, but you know that from today, you were going to either prove Miguel wrong or die trying not to kill him.

After a shower, a deep cleanse to your scalp, a refresh to your braids, and a face mask, you finally go to the kitchen to see what Gabriel left you.

Thank you for signing up for this job! I know it’s hard labor, but the beauty of the result and the countryside make it all worth it.

I knew you’d make a great addition to The Huntsman Farms from our emails and I was happy to see that my gut was right.

For your hard work:

Fresh hot tamales made by my wife!

There’s a steamer on the stove to heat them up, but in case you’re prone to fires like me, just pop em in the microwave.

Enjoy and see you bright and early tomorrow!

P.S. - There’s some lemonade in the fridge too!

“A wife?”

You were too busy gawking at his face, you didn’t even think to check his hand. Of course, a man like that would be tied down.

Sighing, you open the microwave and start to wrap two tamales in damp paper towels. Your eyes were heavy and you might actually start a fire somehow if you turned the stove on.

While your food heats up, you pour a glass of lemonade and take a sip. It’s not too sweet, not too tart, and probably fresh.

When everything was ready, you sat at the small dining room table and unwrapped the husk.

One bite had you scrunching your face in anger and flipping Gabriel’s letter, searching for a description.

Fragrant tomatillo and green peppers, chicken bursting with flavor, and it was only just one bite.

You think there was another with pork and red sauce calling your name.

“She can cook and she has a great man, how lucky.”

You catch some scribbles on the back of the notebook paper and you straighten it out.

Smiling at her princess greeting for you and her best attempt at spelling your name, you read her words.

Welcome to the farm! I hope we can play together soon!

And I’ll teach you how to ride a horse! You can ride my horse! Her name is Flora! Like the fairy!

And I like your hair! It’s so pretty!

♡ Gabriella ♡

You pout your lip taking in her sweet message. Such a darling came from Miguel, a complete menace.

A tall, dark, and handsome one, sure. And strong. Hefty. It all falls through once your brain registers his words and not his drawl. He’s rude as all get out with the attitude of a donkey.

Despite that, as the night winds down and your head hits the pillow you wondered if you had made the right choice.

It was hot. It was stressful. It was far away from most things.

But, your thoughts kept running back to the little girl with wild hair and adorable smile.

For her, you think you’ll stay a while.

dividers by ⋆⋆⋆ saradika + rookthornesartistry 💚

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Altered State: Part Two

This is the next part of the saga. Part One is available to read here. Part Three should be posted in a week. I love reading the comments so feel free to post any feedback or predictions.

Leon felt as if his flesh was melting. Furiously he scrolled through his notifications trying to determine the source of the intense pain wracking his body. 

There was the normal notification about stats that Leon expected at this point.

“You have reached level five. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Strength, +1 Charisma, +0.3 Intelligence.” 

Leon imagined if he wasn’t in so much pain he would feel the typical shifts in his body as his strength increased. 

There was another notification, a new one although not one that explained the pain either. 

“Juggernaut is an embodied class, as such at level five you gain a class ability.”

“Inner strength: At will, once every 115 seconds you can tap into your inner strength to gain a brief burst of, power, reflex, and athletic ability. Note: the cooldown of the ability equals 120 minus class level. Note: the potency of this ability scales with strength.”

The ability seemed amazing though Leon hardly had the mental facilities to think about the potential, or what exactly a embodied class was. Finally, the last notification explained the source of the all-consuming ache in his body.

“You have gained a class perk.”

“Metabolizer: your metabolisms is heightened to superhuman levels. Calories will no longer be stored as fat but instead burned for super-kinetic energy.” 

Tentatively Leon lifted his shirt. His mouth dropped open as he physically saw the flab on his stomach move and shift, slowly shrinking to reveal his abs. His body was eating its own fat stores like a yeast colony to sugar. His arms, his neck, his butt, he felt every part of his body acutely as the fat he had carried for so long was stripped away.

He pulled up his stats screen and watched his weight number slowly fall, past the 200-pound mark, past 190, then 180, then 170 until Leon’s weight came to rest at a puny 160 pounds, all in a matter of minutes.

Leon sat there dazed not sure what to feel about the rapid reformation of his body. Once the pain was gone he tentatively left the stall and approached the mirror above the sink. He had to do a double-take to make sure it was really him. He looked different, gaunt, like a bean pole. Veins were visible on his forearms, and the small abs and pecs he had built from his five levels of strength stood in stark relief on his fat-free torso. He flexed his arm and watched the bicep rise. He looked sort of like Cal, like he could be a runner or a skinny swimmer. The only indications that he had never been fat were the stretch marks and loose skin that dangled from various parts of his body. 

Leon brought his face close to the mirror to examine it fully. It was amazing how much fat obscured his features. Without it his face seemed solid, almost handsome, his jaw had a somewhat square cast to it, and his cheekbones were arched and pronounced. He wondered if the four points added to his charisma could have anything to do with the altered appearance of his face as well.

Leon let himself smile and admired the deep dimples that formed. Let Hunter try to call him a fatty now that his body fat percentage was probably lower than that frat douchbag’s. 

Ding

For a moment Leon looked around for the notification on his display, and then he realized the sound had come from a text on his phone. 

“DID YOU TOUCH MY FUCKING PLAYDIA?” Avlis texted Edward and Leon in their roommate text threat.

“Get a life looser” Leon texted back. He imagined Alvis’ face when he saw the hunk Leon was becoming. That red-faced creep was going to explode. 

A second later Edward texted back “No need to get upset. We can discuss it tonight.” Leon found the response strangely diplomatic for his famously awkward friend. He wondered how Edward was doing if he was undergoing as rapid changes as Leon was. Thinking of his friend made him think of their contest and how little he wanted to lose. He turned his mind back to the new quests that had appeared with the next level, feeling fresh and energized thanks to his high metabolism and animal endurance.

“Run a mile.”

The task proved easier than he thought. As a fat kid, the mile had been hell on earth for Leon, he regularly finished last with times in the late teen early twenty-minute mark. Without the fat and with his added strength, however, Leon felt like he was running on air. Without pushing himself he ran the mile on the attached track in 7:00 minutes and hardly even felt winded in the end. On his last lap, Leon tried activating his new ability “inner strength”. All he had to do was think about it and suddenly the ability activated. All at once his body was flushed with strength. His steps became powerful bounds and he flew through the air at outrageous speeds for a moment before the ability ended and Leon not so gracefully stumbled back to his regular pace. A timer of 115 seconds appeared in the corner of his vision, counting down the seconds until he could use the ability again. 

The completion of the quest got Leon a little over a fourth of the way to level six. 

“Play a sport with others” 

Was the next quest he selected to do. Leon wondered around his school's massive gymnasium looking for a pick-up basketball game he could join or a tennis player looking for a doubles partner. Instead, as he looked out the window at the grassy field below he saw a different sort of athletic endeavor. 

Students wielding foam swords, shields, axes, and even bows charged at each other. As Leon left the health center and approached he could hear war cries and calls of who was out from various participants. It ended within a minute as a girl with short hair blocked a sword thrust from her opponent with her shield and then slashed at his legs with her own foam weapon. A winner was declared and the participants helped each other to their feet from where they had “died” and rearmed themselves to go again.

The girl who had won saw Leon watching and approached. “Want to join” she asked somewhat skeptically. While his height and build made him look like a jock his Superman shirt seemed to communicate that Leon was one of them. In truth, Leon would normally scoff at the idea of role-playing, especially in such a public area, but his new penchant for athletics plus his need to complete the quest made him amicable to her offer.

The girl who introduced herself as Ruth and the sport as Dagorhir. She showed him the various foam weapons that he could choose from, though Leon ended up sticking with the same foam sword and shield she used. She told him because he was new he would be on her team and that he should stick with her and just try to stay alive. 

He did what she said at first, staying back and only blocking with his shield when a stray attacker came at him. He was amazed by how quickly he could move, how fast his reflexes were becoming. He blocked another thrust then retaliated with his sword down onto the guy's back, reveling in the way his perfect form perk allowed him to effortlessly perform the precise motions. Behind him, Ruth went down to a foam-tipped arrow shot by an archer who Leon sprinted over to and tagged with a thrust, killing him. Leon was surprised to find he was the only one left from his team facing down two attackers, one wielding two swords with the other a ball of spiky foam tied to a rope he swung about to attack.

Leon knew he had only one chance to win. Activating his inner strength ability he flew through the air, feet clearing the low sweep of his opponent's flail. As he came back down, he brought his sword down hard onto the other opponent who blocked with both his swords. They cracked like twigs under the force of his slam. 

Even Leon was surprised by his own strength. He felt instantly grateful the guy had blocked his attack, or else it may have been his arms instead of his swords that broke like glass. While both his opponents were stunned by Leon's maneuver Leon swept low with his sword taking both out and winning the game. His team rushed around him all shouting his praise. 

“How the fuck did you do that,” Ruth asked amazed! The feeling of admiration, of victory on the basis of his athletic ability was so foreign to Leon that he wasn’t sure what to do, especially when they started chanting his name. Leon glanced to see his progress bar was almost full thanks to the physical exertion of the activity and the completion of the quest.

“Play again,” Ruth asked.

“Maybe later, I really have to go, but I had fun,” Leon said smiling. He wasn’t lying, despite his misgivings about the lameness of the sport he really had enjoyed it. He gave her his number and she promised to update him on when the club met. 

Leon felt on top of the world especially because his next quest to “consume an exercise supplement” would be a piece of cake. He jogged back to the athletic center, using his inner strength ability whenever it came off cooldown to increase his pace and to try to get used to the burst of supernatural athleticism it gave him. He really needed to understand the limits of his ability before someone got hurt.

As soon as Leon entered the gym he felt a wave of comfort wash over him, a sense of belonging. He walked confidently into the small store attached to the gym and perused the various protein supplements, pre-workout powders, and energy drinks.

“Need help finding anything” The young athlete behind the counter asked.

“Just something for the gains” Leon joked, though with his new body the joke was lost on the cashier who thought he was serious. Leon supposed he sort of was. The cashier pointed out a few pre and post-workout supplements to Leon and feeling reckless Leon bought them all along with a water bottle.

Leon realized he hadn’t drank water or eaten anything in hours yet he didn't feel hungry or thirsty. He wasn’t sure if that was a perk of his Animal Endurance or had something to do with the “super kinetic energy” he now supposedly burned his fat into. Either way, he supposed it would still would be good for him to get some protein and liquids into his system. He scooped the proper amount of each supplement into the bottle before shaking it well.

“Ding” 

Leon reached level six right as he finished the bottle. He let out a sigh and felt his body expand.

“You have reached level six. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Strength, +1 Charisma +0.3 Intelligence.”

Leon felt the familiar telltale signs of the boost to his strength, his muscles swelled, his pecs became more pronounced, thighs beefed up. The network of veins on his skinny forearms became even more pronounced and the loose skin from his rapid weight gain refilled now with muscle instead of fat, becoming less noticeable as Leon’s body became more buff. 

This level-up felt different from the others though. Leon felt himself continue to grow, his shoulders widening even more, and his arms bulging. He wondered at the reason until he saw his latest perk. 

“You have gained a class perk.”

“Rapid Returns: The effects of any workout or body-enhancing substance are applied immediately, and to the fullest.”

This had to be one of the best perks yet. No more would he have to wait weeks to see gains, instead he would experience them instantly. The added growth he reasoned was the retroactive payments of the exercise he had already completed that day plus the supplements he had just drank. 

Leon wasn’t one for patience so he was more than glad for the instant gratification, plus with his perfect form perk, he could be sure that any exercise he did would be rewarded fully and instantly.

Three more quests appeared.

Leon's smile disappeared, replaced by a scoff when he saw what they were. These had to be jokes, no way in hell was he going to be caught dead doing something like that. Who the fuck did this game think he was? 

-

Edward let out a cry of pain as he stumbled back, face and body on fire. Thankfully the golden lines that had materialized around quickly faded but his yelp still caught the attention of a few groups of students who all looked in his direction with concern. “Hey, you ok” a guy asked getting up from the grass to walk towards him. 

Edward put both hands over his face, which felt as if it was being ripped apart, and backed away from the approaching student. 

“I’m fine” he managed through the pain. He brushed past the guy, body hunched forward unable to stand straight. The students looked at each other confused but let him pass. Edward stumbled blindly into an ally between two buildings that were normally filled with smoking students but was thankfully empty. 

Edward sunk down to the ground wrapping his arms around his knees tightly as the pain continued. It felt as if his bones were made of clay that some invisible, and not too gentle, hand was sculpting. After a minute the pain began to lessen and Edward could think again. He couldn’t tell exactly what had happened but he suspected the answer lay somewhere in the notifications he had just received.

“You have reached level five. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Charisma, +1 Intelligence, +0.3 Strength.”

“You have gained a class perk.”

“Golden Ratio: You are a dream of any Renaissance artist. Along with being perfectly symmetrical your face and body ascribe exactly to the golden ratio. You are now 1.618 down to your DNA.”

The Golden Ratio perk explained the pain. Edward recognized the phrase from the art history class he had taken freshman year. It had something to do with proportions and beauty. He got out his phone to look it up but stopped when he saw his reflection on the darkened screen. He sat there staring at his reflection, startled every time that it blinked when he did. 

Beauty wasn’t an objective thing, Edward knew that. But he had been ugly, the type of ugly only a mother could love, and even she is on the fence about. It wasn’t just his bad skin, or thin hair, or beady eyes, or misshapen nose, though none of those helped, it was in the fundamental construction of his features. Unsymmetrical ill-proportioned, and downright unpleasant to look at. Now that had all changed. 

Edward wouldn’t call his reflection sexy or hot, rather he was more striking. His face was masculine but not overly so. His features all looked as if they were pieces in part of the same puzzle, each perfectly proportioned and symmetrical, fitting on his face as if they were sculpted by the hand of an angle or the brain of an artistic AI. His eyes were flawlessly spaced, in exact harmony with his forehead. His lips sat perfectly under his nose which had been resized and reshaped to the exact dimensions to flatter his face. His entire head had taken on a different shape, elongating and narrowing and contouring. He was in a word beautiful. 

Under his sweater, Edward could see his body had shifted as well. He hadn’t gained or lost mass but rather his proportions had changed, shoulder broadening, waste slimming, hands and feet growing bigger. Edward couldn’t check in public but he also had felt some pain in his groin. He was pretty sure his dick and balls had been growing a bit with every level but he suspected the latest perk had done made some big shifts to the region. In someone as insecure and unattractive as Edward having a small penis had only been the cherry on top of his ugly sundae. Edward had assumed no one would ever see under his pants and he had spent much more time wishing for a pretty face or clear skin then a big dick. Now however it seemed plausible almost even likely Edward would get laid eventually and he was glad he was gaining a proper dick to do it with. It all felt so exhilarating and made Edward not a small bit horny.

Edward finally composed himself enough to do some rudimentary research on the golden ratio he was now supposedly modeled off. As the perk suggested the golden ratio was all about 1.618. It seemed this was a number that appeared in nearly all beautiful things in nature and was used by artists in their work, especially in the Renaissance, to replicate the scale of that natural beauty that is so pleasing to the human eye. According to the articles Edward quickly skimmed those faces deemed most attractive were in proportion with this ratio. There was a complex set of formulas involved, face height should be 1.618 times longer than width, brows should be 1.618 longer then the distance between the eyes, etc. Edward didn't have a ruler but he bet if he measured if face it would be in line with that down to the millimeter. 

Despite the radical change his features were still his own, only shifted and resized. The pig-like upward slant of his nose had been somewhat corrected by the previous bumps to charisma but it was still noticeable, same with his chin which still had a ways to go before it became anything resembling desirable. Still, the changes were radical, to the point that Edward had a hard time recognizing himself. He wondered if Leon would recognize him, and how in the hell he was going to explain this to his family.

Edward was so distracted by the latest perk that he didn’t even fully read the other notifications that had come with level five.

“The Snake Charmer class is a conduit class. As such at level five you gain access to energy points. These can be used in various techniques. Your pool of energy points is equal to your intelligence. The rate of regeneration is tied primarily to your charisma but also scales to a lesser degree on intelligence.”

“At level five the Snake Charmer class gains a technique” 

“Silver Tongue: Your innate charm allows you to channel energy into your words, imbuing them with power that can bend all who hear them to your will. Note: This ability costs five energy per word. Note: the maximum number of words that can be imbued increases by one every ten points of charisma: current max 2. Note: This technique may be less effective or wholly resisted by targets with higher charisma. Note: This ability is considered a charm and therefor can be resisted or negated by items, consumables, aura, technique or abilities with anti-charm properties. Note: The duration of this technique may differ based on the degree of differences in the charisma score of the caster and the target. Note: This technique is 92.22% more effective on people with a penis.” 

Edward blinked at the wall of text before him. Edward wasn’t dumb, he had an intelligence of 13 and a 4.0 GPA but he was really struggling to deciphering the massive amount of information the game had just given him. He decided to take it part by part.

First, there were the energy points. Those he was able to deduce were like mana points in an RPG game, the resource he used to cast spells, or in Altered State’s case techniques. Edward focused on the note about the regeneration and a formula popped up going into more detail. 

“Regeneration per hour = # EP (Energy points) * (Charisma * 0.01)”

His current energy point pool, now indicated by a new full yellow bar on the right side of his vision, was 13. His charisma also coincidentally was also 13 at level five although with the gains he got each level he knew it would quickly out-scale his intelligence. At his current level his rate of regeneration was 1.69 energy points per hour, pretty abysmal. That meant it would take him more than seven hours to regain all his energy. 

Edward flipped to the calculator app on his phone. He felt like Alvis doing math for a video game but he also knew it was important to understand this new system. At level 10 when his intelligence would be 18 and his charisma 28 his rate of regeneration would be 5.04 per hour and when he reached level 20 and had a pool of 28 energy points his rate of regeneration would be 16.24 energy points per hour which felt much more reasonable. By level 34 he would be capable of regretting all his energy at that level within an hour. 

Edward started to understand what exactly the game had in store for him. Intelligence-focused classes were meant to be mages, the type with a large energy pool but slow regeneration. He would be the opposite, lacking a large resource bank but able to recover his expended energy much faster and get back to doing. It matched exactly the way Edward liked to play video games which was somewhat concerning. 

As for the technique Edward had unlocked, he was unsure exactly what to make of it. Silver Tongue seemed extremely powerful, almost overly so. There were however that list of notes at the end providing a caveat to the power. First off it seemed that the ability wouldn’t be very useful on those with higher charisma then his own and that there were additionally a host of other game provided way to protect one’s self from charm techniques. Edward didn't really think he would have to worry about that though, as far as he knew he and Leon were the only ones with access to the game and he had no intention of using his ability against his best friend. Still he thought having checks to an technique like his was ultimately a good thing. Edward could think of far too many ways “bending someone to your will” could be used for ill. It also had that stipulation of being much more effective on men like most of Edwards other rewards which he found perplexing.

Edward decided he wouldn’t use this new power unless it was really necessary, which his two new quests seemed unlikely.

“Get new clothes” and “Get a haircut” seemed like some not-so-subtle hints that Altered State thought it was time for him to have a makeover. Edward’s appearance had already changed so much, he was trepidatious about changing himself further. Still, the latest batch of rewards he received for leveling up were the best ones yet. Edward would be lying if the intoxication of power wasn’t driving him forward, that and the bet he still had with Leon. 

Normally Edward would just go to the budget haircut place in town, no need to spend a lot of money when his appearance was already unsalvageable. Now though Edward didn't feel so lackadaisical about his looks. There was a real nice barber shop he knew only a few blocks from campus which he decided to go to.

Edward left the ally and walked across the green out of campus. As he went Edward was amazed by all the looks he got. Not the looks of pity or disgust he was used to. Instead, people smiled and waved at him as if they knew him. It was bizarre in the extreme. A group of girls walking by whispered something to each other and giggled as they passed, and a tall handsome guy gave him a wink. At first, the attention bothered Edward but as he walked he gained confidence. He stood straight, puffed out his still slim chest, and smiled back at the people he passed. Both the more confident walk and the friendly expression on his face felt right on the new construction of his body. 

“One haircut please,” Edward said as he entered the barber shop. It was an awkward line but his high charisma, People Person perk, and Social Sync perk all saved him from being turned away. 

The barber, a tallish middle-aged guy with a slight Italian accent and a short beard greeted him like an old friend. “What can I get ya today.” He asked as he sprayed Edward's curls down with water. 

Somewhere along the way, Edward’s stringy dirty blond hair had become a thick golden mane with a slight wave in it, a far cry from the straight thin straw his hair had been before. 

“I don’t know Alexi, what do you think would look good?” Edward asked reading the man's name off his name tag. Through his Sage perk he could feel that the barbers had a genuine love for his craft and that his goal was to make Edward look as good as possible.

The barber clucked his tongue examining Edward's face and running a comb through his damp hair which instantly sprung back into place. “You have such beautiful hair, it feels like such a shame to cut it off. How about I just shape it up so you can show off that handsome face of yours.”

Edward blushed but gave his approval. He watched memorized as Alexi slowly removed the hair from around his newly sized down ears and forehead. Staring in the mirror Edward couldn’t believe the adonis staring back was himself. 

He was snapped out of his revelry by the ding. For a second he thought he had leveled up again but it turned out to just be his phone. 

“DID YOU TOUCH MY FUCKING PLAYDIA?” Avlis had texted him and Leon in their roommate group chat in obnoxious all caps. 

A few seconds later Leon responded with his typical brashness: “Get a life looser”. 

Edward sighed and typed out a diplomatic response, “No need to get upset. We can discuss it tonight” he sent. He would try to calm Alvis down in person but if their creepy roommate got really upset Edward could always use him as the first test subject for his new technique. 

Edward and Alexi made small talk as he the haircut, Edward was amazed at how easily the conversation flowed, and how at ease he felt talking to a stranger. When it came time to pay he suspected Alexi gave him a substantial discount. Edward reviled his first experience of pretty privilege. At the same time, he felt kind of bad, like he had scammed the guy just by nature of being charming. Edward left a large tip and thanked him profusely promising to recommend all his friends, as if he had any other than Leon.

With the first of two quests completed and the progress bar to level six halfway full Edward made his way to the mall a few blocks away, his new haircut only intensified the stares he got. 

Normally Edward wasn’t confident enough to wear anything other than the most basic of clothes, neutral colors, and a size too big. Now however Edward felt empowered. He walked into the most trendy shop in the mall and was instantly beset by an eager saleswoman. Within minutes she had picked out for Edward more clothes than he could carry before escorting him to a dressing room. His sage perk, which was significantly weaker on her than on Alexi, let him know she worked on commission and that she suspected he was a rich pretty boy willing to spend. 

Edward locked the door and tried on the first item of clothing, a red and brown sweater vest that was a bit too big. As soon as Edward put the vest on he heard a ding and reached level six. It really was strange how lenient the game was with some quests and how strict it was with others. 

To Edward’s relief, none of the level six features caused excruciating pain this time, although he did feel a slight discomfort as the usual three points of charisma altered his face further, skin smoothing, features adjusting, Adam’s apple bulging slightly as his voice grew a bit deeper and smoother. His newly cut hair on his head along with the little body hair he had grew even more silky and soft and golden blond. Plus Edward was sure he could feel his penis grow as well, only about a sixth of an inch but still noticeable and exhilarating. 

“You have reached level six. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Charisma, +1 Intelligence, +0.3 Strength.”

“You have gained a class perk.”

“Gold Star Killer: Your charm is strong enough to go ignore biological and social boundaries. Anyone with a penis will now be equally likely to find you attractive no matter their usual sexual orientation.”

Edward gasped slightly when he saw the perk. He knew it was a dream of a lot of gay guys to have sex with straight guys, and he would be lying if he said the fantasy wasn’t there for him as well, but he found the idea of bending sexualities concerning. He currently wouldn’t want to be made attracted to a woman. Plus he hoped there was some sort of exemption he could make for his friends and family. He laughed to himself at the idea of boob-loving Leon suddenly having eyes for his dick. 

Edward sifted through the rest of the clothes. Most were either too expensive or too gaudy to be considered, but in the pile, Edward found a fair number of shirts and pants he might actually wear. With his now 16 charisma every piece of clothing just seemed to fit right on him, like he could wear a garbage bag and still walk the red carpet, he really just was that damn pretty. 

Edward had just tried on a thick wool-striped short-sleeved shirt when he heard a noise from outside. “What's the point in wearing that if I can’t see your tits,” a loud obnoxious male voice said. Out of curiosity Edward stuck his head out of the changing room and saw two people arguing in front of the mirror a few feet down the hallway.

“You sound like a douchebag when you say things like that Hunter,” a blond woman said as she adjusted a floral long-sleeve blouse on her athletic frame. 

The man who Edward presumed to be Hunter scoffed. “Cassy you look like a lesbo librarian. Can’t we go to Victoria's Secret or something?” 

“You're being a jerk. Is this just because you think I was flirting with that guy at the gym? How many times do I have to tell you he's just in one of my classes.”

“I don’t give a shit about that fattie,” Hunter said in a way that made it obvious he very much did, “I just don’t want people thinking your even more of a skank than they already do.” 

The blond woman reeled back. Despite the distance and not having a penis Cassy strong emotion triggered Edward’s Sage skill and he instantly knew that her foremost desire at that moment was to hit the Hunter in the face. She opened her mouth to tell him off but Edward beat her to it. Stepping out of the dressing room he instinctively activated his Silver Tongue ability. “Hey man be nice,” he said, the last two words coming out in a much louder and deeper voice that echoed through the hallway, as if a proclamation from god.

Hunter froze in place for a moment then his face contorted into an unnaturally friendly expression and in a forced cheery voice he said “I’m sorry for saying that Cassie. No one thinks that you are a skank. You are a very beautiful intelligent women who I am often intimidated by, and who I take out my insecurities on.” 

Cassie looked around as if looking for the hidden cameras to emerge and tell her this was a prank. Hunter turned towards Edward. “I must say you are very attractive. I would normally never admit this but I really want to have sex with you.” Even through the compulsion of Edward's technique, it was obvious that Hunter was horrified by what he was saying, although with his Gold Star Killer perk it was also likely true. 

Hunter turned back to Cassie “Let me buy you these clothes to make up for my rude comments, then I want to finally hear about that book you have been reading.” He proceeded to gather all of Cassie’s clothing in his arms and walk to the checkout counter, his girlfriend wordlessly following behind him, too shocked to speak. 

Edward looked around to see if anyone else had witnessed the effect of his ability but the dressing room was empty. Awkwardly he made his way back to his room to try on the rest of the clothes, still amazed by the power of his new technique. He wondered how long the effect would last on that jerk. It would probably be too much to wish it would be permanent, but he hoped for Cassie’s sake it was long enough for him to buy her clothes. He also noticed Cassie seemed not to be affected by his words. He wasn’t sure if that was because she didn't have a penis or if it was because he intended his words only for Hunter. 

Edward glanced at his energy bar. The yellow bar was a little less then a third of the way full, Edward just having spent 10 energy, 5 on each word. It would be a few hours till he could regenerate all the expended points again, though Edward didn't regret it. Especially when he noticed the level progress bar which was right under the energy bar was already halfway to level seven. Edward realized that he had inadvertently just completed one of his new quests without realizing it, “resolve an altercation with only your words” was now marked as complete. His other assigned quest “post on social media” seemed like it could be equally as easy to complete. 

Edward put on his favorite of the newest clothes, a white sweater and a pair of blue jeans, and pulled up the latest trending song. Then he set up his phone on the fitting room bench and started filming. Edward didn't do much, he moved his hips slightly, ran his fingers through his hair, and even bit his lip at one point. Watching it back Edward looked like a total fuck boy, but damn was he pretty. He posted the video publicly, and though he didn’t have any followers except for Leon and his mom he was pretty confident the video would get some views. 

Sure enough, Edward heard two simultaneous dings as he both leveled up and received his first like on the video. 

“You have reached level seven. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Charisma, +1 Intelligence, +0.3 Strength.”

“You have gained a class perk.”

“Social gravity: Your charisma is like a magnet. You emit an aura that makes attracting attention to yourself effortless and becoming the center of attention nearly inevitable. Note: This effect is 92.22% more effective on people with a penis. Note: This is an aura effect. Individuals can only be effected by one charisma based aura at a time. Your aura may overcome other charisma-based aura in its range if your charisma is higher, or be suppressed by another aura if the less charismatic of the two. Note: you will receive upgrades to this aura ability at levels 14, 21, 29, etc.”

Edward had mixed feelings about this latest perk. As someone ignored and shunned all his life Edward felt the draw to the spotlight, to finally being seen by his peers. Still, there was something nice about anonymity, about being an invisible face in the crowd. If he was reading this perk right his days of nameless NPC were over, main character only from here on out. Plus there was that thing about blocking other auras. This was the second indication that he might be encountering other people with classes and abilities like his own. Edward supposed there could be others out there, Leon had been rather vague about who had given him the game and upon reflection is seemed rather obvious that “buff guy” must have also had a class. Edward thought about that disk still sitting in Alvis’ machine. Once he reached level ten he and Leon would have to lock up that disk in a safe, or maybe destroy it, anything to keep the likes of Hunter from getting their hands on that type of power. 

Edward left the changing room, still wearing the favorite of his new clothes, and paid for the half dozen items clothing items he had decided on. These were unfortunately not discounted like his haircut though Edward had some money from his birthday saved up. 

Edward’s next quest seemed deceptively easy. “Attend a party” was the only item listed in his quest menu. The rave Trent and Tag were going to tonight might count but that wasn’t for another few hours and Edward wanted to give the two some space. Even though classes were out for the day Edward knew it was likely too early for any parties to be happening in the dorms or in any of the houses on fratrow. 

Edward decided to wonder around the mall. If he had gotten stared before it was nothing compared to now. His social gravity perk and the last two levels of charisma made him an undeniably attention-grabbing figure. He passed a kid's birthday party happening in an arcade but decided against crashing that to complete his quest. 

Edward wandered out of the mall and down the street to one of the nicer parts of town, to a row of expensive restaurants and luxury apartment buildings. Edward's ears pricked up as he heard the sounds of chatting voices and light laughter. 

He quickly found the source of the chatter. Middle-aged men and women in formal attire holding glasses of wine milled about an art gallery pointing at the black and white works on the wall and chatting in groups of twos and threes. The name of the gallery on the glass read “l’art” in big cursive letters. 

Edward supposed this would count as a party. With a confidence Edward would never once have possessed, he walked into the gallery. Immediately every head inside turned to face him. On his display, the quest “attend a party” didn’t mark as complete as he had expected. Instead, it expanded like a scroll being unfurled. The words “event quest” appeared with a progress bar, along with a new open-ended task list. The quest renamed itself and Edward internally groaned. “The party don’t start till you walk in” the quest now read. A timer began to count down. 

-

“Do a shirtless workout” 

“Flex in a public place” 

“Get three complements on your body” 

These couldn’t be serious. For the first time, Leon considered what exactly the Juggernaut class was. So far the quests had driven him to become a paragon of athleticism, but these quests seemed to want him to be some preening peacock. Leon briefly thought about those viral internet challenges that went around when he was in middle school, the ones that supposedly started simply and ended with you jumping off the roof or something. He was pretty sure those were actually moral panics. Still he couldn’t help wondering if this might be the same, if the game was lulling him in with simple quests before making him perform this strange humiliation ritual. 

Leon weighed his options. He could ignore the quests, and try to get to level seven by only using the experience he gained from working out, though judging by the increased amount of experence each level was requiring that could take days if not weeks. No, the quests were too valuable to ignore. He would have to suck up his pride and become what he had once scorned. 

Tentatively Leon made his way to the massive workout area of the gym. By now it was late afternoon and the post-class rush had filled the gym to almost its capacity. There were a few other guys without shirts on, walking with their chests puffed out like monkeys and leaving sweaty imprints behind on their stations.

Leon let out an audible sigh and looked down at his XL Superman tee. It still hung loose on his frame thanks to his rapid metabolism but he suspected his arms and pecs were only a few levels of strength away from filling it to bursting once again. Slowly he stripped it off, the shirt slightly damp from the sweat he had accumulated over the hours of exercise. Leon still couldn’t believe the body underneath was his. He was now undeniably big, fit, and muscled. He looked like he could be a personal trainer or a fitness model. He had a six-pack, not even the skinny kind, but the strong ones in which each abs were visible. His pecs pushed out visibly. He tried to bounce them and found with his perfect form perk he was able to make them dance precisely. His tan skin from his half-French, half-Mexican heritage didn't hang as loose around his muscles as before.

Now shirtless Leon did a few bicep curls. “Nice guns,” a guy walking past said and Leon gave him a polite smile. The “get a complement on your body” quest marked itself as 1/3. After a few more curls and an overhead press with the dumbbells his “do a shirtless workout” also completed and Leon was thrust 1/3 of the way to level seven. Leon decided to stay shirtless for a few more exercises in hopes of getting two more compliments on his body, and because some small quiet part of him secretly loved the feeling of showing off his gains. 

He continued to the next exercise doing squats, then lateral raises, then shoulder presses. Though totally imperceptible Leon convinced himself he could feel each exercise permanently pump up each of his muscles slightly larger as their effects were instantly expressed by his “Rapid Rewards” perk. Leon kept forgetting his torso was bare until he would spot an occasional annoyed or lustful look from a fellow gymgoer. He wasn’t sure if it was his utmost confidence he had in the space from the Gym Rat perk or if it was a newly discovered exhibitionist streak but he found himself not minding the attention. He tried to catch a few women's eyes but all of them seemed to avoid him purposefully which he couldn’t much blame them for. 

Leon did a set of 20 pull-ups without much effort then wandered over to a wall of mirrors by the weights. Leon still couldn’t believe the tan muscular figure was him. Tentatively he flexed a bicep, overjoyed with the feeling of the substantial muscle bunching up. He flexed the other arm, snapping exactly into position for a textbook double bicep flex thanks to his Perfect Form perk. He looked around to see if anyone was watching him then flexed his abs, contorting them into different positions easily as if choosing from a preset in a video game. Leon flexed his legs, then popped his pecs before turning around and flaring out his lats in a pose that he assumed made his back look great. The quest “flex in a public place” was marked as completed and Leon was boosted 2/3 of the way to level seven. He just needed two more complements to complete his last quest, and judging by the lackluster reaction to his flexing he wasn’t going to get it here. 

Leon wondered what his next perk would be. He hoped it would be something to stop him from sweating like a pig. By now he was fully drenched, his hair stuck unflatteringly to his forehead and a distinct oder surrounded him. Leon concluded that if he was going to get two more complements he needed to look a bit more presentable.

Though he had never been to the gym before Leon was able to navigate to the far end where the public men's locker room was located. Inside college guys and a few professors of various class years and body types milled around, changing into sports uniforms or back into streetwear after having done a late afternoon session after their class.

As Leon stepped through the door he felt his confidence leave him all in a rush. Suddenly he realized the “gym rat” perk that made him so able to strut around like a meathead jock didn't apply to the locker room. The air now felt cold against his exposed nipples and Leon crossed his beefy arms over them and sucked in, lifelong habits built from being a fat kid suddenly returning.   He felt like an imposter with a body he hadn’t earned. He suddenly wished Edward were here. Edward never let him get too down on himself when it came to his appearance. He knew his friend would have given him the last two complements without him even having to ask.

Leon saw a few guys with towels wrapped around their waists head further into the locker room. He reasoned that must be the direction of the shower and followed them, grabbing a towel from the stack at the door. Thankfully his school was modern enough that the showers were not communal kind but instead with small individual stalls.

Leon claimed a shower stall then got naked in it putting his shorts, shirt, underwear, and socks in a bin outside the stall so he could change back into them when he was done. Leon wasn’t happy about changing back into his sweaty clothes but he didn't have another set of clothes with him and he didn't intend to go home until he was at least level ten and had won the bet with Edward.

The hot water felt great on Leon’s skin. He wasn’t sore, that wasn’t possible with his “Animal Endurance" perk and his “Rapid Rewards” perks but his body still felt tense from hours of continual activity. He took his time scrubbing away the sweat from his body, admiring the new crevices the removal of his fat and the growth of his muscles had created. He had been so busy with the events set off by “Altered State” that he hadn’t really had time to feel horny, but as he played with his dick that was undeniably bigger, if only by half an inch or so, he felt his hormones rush in. It took all his self-control not to jerk off right there in the shower stall. He wanted to save his first orgasm in this new body for a hot babe who could maybe give him the last two complements he needed. There were quite a few attractive women he had seen in the gym he would have never dreamed of scoring before who now seemed in his league if he could only keep himself from saying something stupid.

Leon shut the water off and reached a hand out to grab the towel he had stashed outside. His hand only met empty air. He flailed at the empty hook before peaking his head out to check what was going on. His heart dropped when he saw his towel and all his clothes were gone. His face went red and his blood cold. From the changing area, he could hear a group of men snickering with one another. Leon was tired of this shit. When he was fat he took it because there was no other option but now he was going to stand up for himself. Leon walked out of the shower, not caring if he was soaking wet or that his penis swung openly between his legs. “Nice dick” a guy yelled to him as he passed, Leon ignored him but his quest updated its progress to 2/3. 

He shouldn’t have been surprised to see Hunter standing there holding his clothes. He was dressed in a different outfit from when Leon had seen him last. The frat guy didn't immediately see him as he chatted animatedly with his friends. “It was humiliating bro, all of a sudden I’m complementing Cassy and saying all this gay shit to that blond freak. I swear bro I’m going to beat his ass next time I see him, I swear it.”

He turned to see a naked Leon coming towards him and seemed momentarily confused. “I think those are mine,” Leon said pointing to the clothes in Hunter's hand. Hunter looked up and down at Leon's tall naked buff body and his angry face. 

“Sorry bro, I thought these belonged to someone else.” He said obviously not recognizing Leon. It was funny how much more respect this guy gave him now that he had muscles and wasn’t fat.

“Oh did you think they belonged to that fatty from earlier?” Leon asked using Hunter's words from before. Hunter and his four fellow frat bros laughed awkwardly thinking Leon was making a fat joke, though Leon kept a serious face, “Cause you're right that's me.”

Hunter’s face took on a look of confusion. “Bro that's not possible, your buff and stuff.” 

Leon heard a ding as he received the last compliment and was boosted to level seven. He’d take the compliment where he could get it. 

“You have reached level seven. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Strength, +1 Charisma, +0.3 Intelligence.”

“You have gained a class perk.”

“Naked Confidence: you and others feel completely comfortable with your body, be it in a tuxedo or in your birthday suit. 

He didn't have time to think much about the notifications as he rapidly dismissed them. Still, Leon couldn’t help but feel his body grow wider and taller as new strength pumped up all his muscles. His body was going from athletic into the territory of seriously fit. 

What's more, Leon felt a wave of confidence overcome him, his nipples suddenly felt less exposed and he no longer felt any care at all about having his dick out so publicly. In fact, it felt almost natural. Around him, he saw people shift their gaze away from his bare crotch and to the confrontation occurring as if his nakedness was no longer of interest. 

“You really don’t miss much do you,” Leon said taking a step forward.

Hunter's face hardened. He may not understand exactly what was going on but he knew enough to know he had just been insulted. For a second Leon glanced at the two new quests that had popped up with the new level and a plan started to take shape. 

Leon took another step forward so that he was in Hunter's face, the two men now even in height thanks to the latest boost from level seven. “If you wanted to see me naked so bad all you had to do was ask. I’m happy to show you what a real man looks like.”

Hunter's face became a mask of rage, exactly as Leon intended. “Your fucking dead you F—“ he said and swung an up arm towards Leon's face in a brutal swing. Leon activated his inner strength ability and felt the world slow for a moment. With the second of strength the ability lent him he deflected the punch with one hand and shoved the other into Hunter's chest with the other. The frat bro’s eyes went wide as he sailed ten feet across the room, landing on the floor and sliding until his back came to rest against a row of lockers with a loud metal jingle. The cheering crowd of Hunter's cronies and regular gym attendees let out a shriek of surprise. For a moment Leon worried he might have overdone it, then Hunter slowly got to his feet, muscular chest moving up and down as he let out deep rageful breaths.

“Race ya looser” Leon called out and ran for the door. Hunters bellow behind him and the sound of multiple pairs of running feet indicated the frat guys had taken the bait. 

Leon seriously hoped this mad chase would count as fulfilling one of the two quests he had just been assigned, “win a contest of speed” Otherwise he was risking his life for nothing. He supposed there might have been easier ways to fulfill the quest but he would have to take shortcuts to level ten if he hoped to beat Edward.

Without his inner strength power, Leon was quickly realizing he lacked an edge. These guys knew this building far better than Leon did, plus had had their powerful long legs and athletic bodies for their whole lives as opposed to Leon’s few hours, meaning they knew much better how to control them. The sounds of footfalls and angry threats of what Hunter was going to do to him once he caught up with him got louder behind him and Leon rounded a corner then hurried up a set of stairs. 

Five sets of footsteps thundered after him up the stairs, only a few paces away. Leon saw an exit and bolted to it with all his might. His inner strength ability, the only edge he had over Hunter, still had more than a minute left on its cooldown. 

Leon slammed the door open and ran out of the gymnasium, into the cold sunny fall day. He saw the same group of LARPers still performing mock battles on the grass and made a beelined straight for them. He imagined he made a strange sight, naked with his penis flailing every which way, sprinting full speed forward with five very angry frat guys chasing after him, gaining on him with every step. 

Hunter saw Leon was headed to the group of students with foam weapons and ran faster than before until he was only a step behind Leon. He tried to grab Leon but Leon was able to duck out of the way. The two were only ten feet from the group. Hunter tried again to stop Leon this time with a full-body tackle. Just before Hunter brought Leon down two things happened, the quest demanding he “win a contest of speed” was completed and Ruth, the girl who had shown him how to play before, threw him a shield like a frisbee which Leon caught and used to block a series of blows which Hunter rained down onto him as the two tumbled in the grass. 

The two struggled in the grass, Leon’s shield protecting his torso and head but not preventing Hunter from savaging his arms and legs with painful punches. Leon wrapped his naked legs around Hunter and with effort flipped the heavier man over so that he was on top. His inner strength power still had fifteen seconds left on its cooldown. 

Without it, Hunter was able to flip Leon back over and pin his arms and legs to the grass. The latest level of strength had made Leon nearly Hunters equal in size but the large man still had the advantage. Leon struggled violently against the frat guy to little effect. Hunter loomed over him, breath coming in heavy gasps and eyes filled with murder. “I’m going to drag your asshole out your mouth.”

Using one hand to subdue both of Leon’s hands Hunter placed a hand around Leon’s neck and started to choke him, hard. Leon’s inner strength ability still had ten seconds left on cooldown. Without it, Leon didn't have the strength to break Hunter's grip. 

Above him, he saw Ruth mercilessly bring her foam sword down onto Hunter's back. The man didn't flinch but one of his friends grabbed Ruth from behind. 

Leon's vision started to blur as his windpipe was constricted. He gasped helplessly and tried to roll his naked body out from Hunter's pin, but the frat guy's body was too heavy and his grip too strong. Leon found his thoughts going to Edward, his best friend. He wondered how his friend's “Altered State” journey was going, it couldn’t possibly be any worse than his. 

[jxtina-86]

The Chase - Part 3

Thanks for all the likes for part 2!

In case you missed the earlier parts:

Part 1

Part 2

Pairing: Lando x Fem!OC

Warning: Swearing. Sexual tension you can slice a knife through. Some v mild smut.

Word Count: 4.5k

Likes/Comments/Reblogs welcome! Enjoy!

“Merci,” she says to the waiter as they leave the restaurant, half distracted by Lando’s hand firmly in the small of her back as they walk out the door.

The tension between them is still thick. The rest of the lunch passed in a blur of innuendo and light touches between them, his hand finding hers again when the plates were removed. She’s not entirely sure how she managed to eat at all, the way his eyes kept meeting hers, accompanied with suggestive nods, winks and grins.

He opens the car door for her again, but this time as she passes him to get in, he slips his arm around her waist. Shielded behind the door and almost out of sight, he moves in. She lets him, her mouth already clamouring for him. He kisses her softly at first, feeling her melt into his embrace for a second before she kisses him back and the intensity builds. His fingers run through her hair, holding her to him as her own fingers dance over his upper arms. He pulls back with a soft whine of his own and she can’t help but giggle.

A giggle that soon fades when she sees him bite his lip as he stares down at her. She nudges him back with a grin.

“Down boy,” she murmurs. He pouts but lets her slip past him into the car. He closes the door behind her and she watches as he walks around the car, pulling his sunglasses back onto his face. She leans her head to the side, watching as he gets in and gets comfortable in the seat.

“What?” he gives her a grin when he spots her watching him.

“Nothing,” she murmurs as the car rumbles into life. As he clicks his seatbelt in, his hand reaches over the central console to find hers. She shifts closer to him as he drags it over to rest on his thigh as he glances in his mirrors before pulling out back onto the road. It feels way too intimate a gesture given she didn’t know him less than 24 hours ago, but she can’t bring herself to move her hand.

Then again, she thinks, maybe it isn’t as intimate as what she wants to be doing with him. She glances at the clock and sees it’s only just nearing 1.30pm. Apart from joking around, he’s not mentioned anything else for this afternoon and she feels a slight pit of dread that despite everything, he’s had enough of the game playing and will just opt to drop her back to the villa.

She feels her phone vibrate in her bag and reluctantly withdraws her hand to check it. A voice note from Ruby.

“No no,” Ruby starts. “Well, I hope he does hear it. Right, M. We are all going to the beach. So if you and Lando have managed to get through lunch unscathed and need somewhere to take a post-pizza… siesta shall we say, then you have this place all to yourselves. Enjoy!” She finishes with a trill and there’s a fit of laughter in the background before the voice note ends.

“Okay, well I’ve never regretted listening to a voice note more in my life,” Mia cringes as Lando snorts beside her.

“They’ve really got your best interests at heart,” he comments.

“That’s one way to put it.” She decides to ignore the message and puts her phone back in her bag. “So where are we going?”

“Yours, apparently,” he winks over at her.

“Absolutely not. They’ll find an excuse to come back early.”

“Don’t want them catching us in the act?”

“Oh, you are mighty sure of yourself aren’t you? You’re as bad as them.”

He chuckles. “So where do you want to go?”

“Surprise me.”

He scrapes his hand over his chin. “Okay.”

Without taking his eyes off the road, he reaches over to take her hand again, moving it back onto his leg, his fingers splaying over hers as he controls the steering wheel with one hand.

“Needy,” she says softly, watching his lips twitch into a grin.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs in reply.

**

His hands steady her hips, his chest pressed against her back. She takes a deep breath as his hands slip to hers, ghosting over her wrists before his fingers slip between hers.

His breath tickles the back of my neck as he helps her guide the golf club towards the ball towards the hole.

Mini golf was certainly an interesting choice. After the secluded lunch, it felt so open and public. And within minutes of Lando exiting the car, he was approached by a dad and son for a photo. However, she was pleasantly surprised how Lando immediately engaged with the young kid, signed his shirt and crouched down to pose for a photo. The kid looked so ecstatic, the dad too when Mia offered to take a photo of the three of them together. Lando had caught her eye with a slightly surprised look when she'd made the suggestion and when the dad and boy departed, he'd taken her hand again and given it a soft squeeze.

Her golf skills definitely lacked but that didn't seem to bother Lando. In fact, he seemed to be revelling in being able to give her some very hands on advice as they made their way around the course. At the start, she'd felt pretty self conscious about how close he stood behind her, touching her shoulders, arms, hands. She’d recalled his earlier words about photos from onlookers and was wary of how compromising it might look. But he clearly had either forgotten or didn't care anymore and after a while, Mia was caring less about what people might see and more on concentrating on breathing as Lando continued to touch her at every given opportunity.

“What’s the score?” She asked him as he bent over to pick up her ball from the hole.

“I thought you were keeping track.”

“In that case, I’m definitely winning.”

He laughs as they head to the next and final part hole of the course. He goes first, hitting it perfectly so the ball rides the full crest of the hill and down the otherside. He misses the final hole, but he’s not even paying attention, beckoning her forward so yet again, he can make a show of lining her up for the perfect shot.

They are both way too caught up in the moment to hear the faint rumble of thunder in the distance and the dark clouds that are gathering overhead.

His chin rests on her shoulder as his hands slide over hers yet again. But as she swings the club back, his lips meet the crook of her neck.

“Stop it,” she giggles, letting the club swing back without hitting the ball. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“I’ve been wanting to do that all afternoon,” he mumbles, grinning unashamedly as she tips her head to look back at him.

“Are you going to let me take this shot? Especially as I haven’t done anything to distract your turns.”

“Yes, you have,” he counters, his hands still over hers.

“How?”

“Just being here.”

She rolls her eyes as he guides her arms back again to take the shot. Like his ball before, hers rolls over the crest of the hill too, but hers actually makes it into the hole with a satisfying clatter. 

“I win!” She says gleefully, twisting to grin at him. He grins back, his eyes flickering down before he leans forward to kiss her. His arms curl around her body, holding her close as he pulls back for a second, before his lips meet hers again.

“Congrats,” he murmurs against her mouth.

The first splatters of rain go unnoticed. It's only when it becomes a steady beat that he looks up and around. “C’mon.”

“Typical,” Mia grumbles as they make their way back towards the car park and the rain picks up in intensity.

By the time they get back to the car, they are both drenched. Lando’s white T-shirt is clinging to him like a second skin, whilst her dress is slowly turning see-through. 

Inside the car, Lando scrapes a hand through his wet curls, whilst Mia looks down at her drowned-rat state. She catches his eye and they both burst into laughter, his infectious, making her laugh more.

“Don't take this the wrong way,” he eventually gets out. “But do you want to come back to mine to dry off?”

**

The drive to his apartment building is short and she’s soon standing feeling slightly awkward in his kitchen as he fetches a towel for her. He reappears a moment later, one towel slung over his shoulder whilst unfolding a large towel for her and wrapping it around her.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, moving the towel to dry the ends of her hair. He stands opposite her, running his own towel over his head briefly, before he tosses it aside and peels his T-shirt up and over his head.

Mia feels her mouth go slightly dry. The wet T-shirt had left little to the imagination, but to suddenly see his tanned and toned chest before her is still a wonderfully unexpected surprise of the entire day. He gives her a shy smile when he catches her looking.

“Did anyone tell you it’s rude to stare?”

“Can’t help it,” she replies, vaguely wondering when the tables had turned and she was the one unable to keep her desires in check.

She looks down and realises there is water actually dripping off her dress, pooling on the floor. “Shit,” she mutters.

He doesn’t say anything, just disappears for a second time and then reappears with a pure white fluffy robe. “Here, have this. You can change in there if you want,” he points to where he’s come from.

She pads past him, feeling his eyes boring into the back of her head as she sees the open door to his bedroom. Closing the door behind her, she places the towel and robe on the bed. Glancing around his room, it’s tidier than she had imagined.

Reaching behind her, she fumbles to find the zip to the dress, grimacing as her fingers try and fail to grasp it.

Sighing, she opens the door. “Lando?”

He appears in an instant and she swallows as she realises he has stripped down completely, with just the towel wrapped around his waist. “What’s up?”

“I… I can’t reach the zip on my dress.”

“Oh.”

He approaches slowly and she turns, scooping her damp hair out of the way. His fingers brush across her back for a brief second before he finds the zip and tugs it down at what feels like a glacial pace. She looks over her shoulder as she hears his breath hitch as he realises she’s not wearing a bra. She expects him to leave the zip there, but he continues to drag it down south to where it ends as the base of her spine.

She looks back over her shoulder. “Thanks,” she whispers.

“No… No problem,” he says, clearing his throat.

She steps forward, letting the dress slip from her shoulders and pool at her feet as she reaches for the robe. Glancing over her shoulder she sees he is still standing in the doorway staring at her transfixed. He blinks and meets her gaze.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I'll be…”

He retreats and closes the door, leaving her to wrap the bathrobe around herself. Scooping up her dress, she heads back out to the kitchen to find him leaning against the counter scrolling through his phone. He looks up, a smile crossing his face.

“Do you want a drink?”

She shakes her head. “I'm okay, thanks.”

She has to pass him by to drop her wet dress on the chair next to where her bag and shoes sit, but he slides a hand around her waist pulling her against him. His mouth finds hers a second later as he turns them so she’s sandwiched between him and the counter.

She feels a hand slip around the back of her neck, his thumb grazing her jaw. A moan echoes through her, vibrating through her lips. His other hand grips her waist as hers slide over his firm shoulders, feeling him flex at her touch.

He breaks away, both of them catching their breath for a second. He looks at her through his thick eyelashes, his eyes dark with lust as he tips her head back gently. Pressing a chaste kiss to her mouth, he presses another to her cheek, jaw and then ducks his head to press a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the side of her neck. His tongue wets her skin, before his lips tighten over the spot and she lets out an audible gasp. Her back arches and he takes full advantage by scooping his arm around her waist and lifting her effortlessly onto the counter.

Her hands slide up the back of his impossibly thick neck and into his hair. She tugs softly and he releases his kiss on her neck with a groan. He snickers softly, his fingers rubbing over the spot and she stares down at him in disbelief.

“Did you…”

“Whoops,” he grins. “Only a small one…”

“Lando…” she groans.

He stares up at her, eyes wide, the colour of his irises barely visible with how dilated his pupils are.

Lifting his head, he cups her face gently with both hands, his eyes focused on her mouth. She can't fight the soft sigh that escapes her as he kisses her and he definitely doesn't hold back the moan as she curls a leg around his hips to draw him closer.

Against the heel of her foot she can feel his towel starting to slip. She goes to reach for it with her hand but it's too late and instead all she finds is bare waist as the towel slips out of reach. He doesn't seem to notice or even care, his mouth still on hers.

She pulls away, giggling as he whines. “Your towel,” she tells him.

“Don't care,” he mumbles, pressing soft kisses across her jaw as she giggles again. He tilts his hips back slightly and she feels the towel slip away entirely. His hands ghost down her robed body to her waist, tugging her closer to him. The robe itself is still tightly knotted around her waist but he pushes the material covering her legs aside, his fingers grazing down her thighs as he encourages her to wrap both her legs around his body.

She gasps as she feels his length nudge her inner thigh. He captures her mouth again, the kiss deepening as her hand tentatively skims up over his back, over his shoulder and down his chest between them.

Neither of them notice the knock on the door, then the key turning, not until:

“Shit, sorry!”

Mia feels herself freeze, her hand on Lando’s stomach and he groans as he pulls away from her, his head resting briefly in the crook of her neck before he raises it and looks over his shoulder.

“Max, what the fuck?” His voice is a strained rasp.

“I… I did knock,” his friend reassures and Mia recognises him from the previous evening.

“Get the hint next time,” Lando grumbles.

“I’ll go-” Max starts to back up.

“It's fine,” Mia says, retracting her hand from between them as gracefully as possible.

“No, no,” Lando practically whines, even in front of his friend. “He’s going.”

She giggles. “Yeah, even so… I should go.”

He pouts at her, his eyes pleading. “Please…”

She shakes her head. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Max backing out of the room so she tucks a finger under Lando’s chin. “Bolt the door next time.”

His eyes light up. “When?”

She laughs. “Soon.”

He groans, reluctantly releasing her as he steps back to pick up his towel.

But not before she casts a casual look down and swallows as she catches a glimpse of his dick. She tilts her head to the side as he tucks the towel back around his waist.

“Naughty,” he murmurs and she looks up, cheeks flushing red, caught in the act. “Like something you see?”

She nods without thinking and he grins, reaching out to lift her off the counter. She spots her dress on the floor, still soaked.

“Can I borrow a hoodie or something?” She asks and he takes her hand, leading her back to his bedroom. Opening the wardrobe, he pulls out a jumper and then he rifles through a drawer and pulls out a pair of jogging bottoms.

“They've got a drawstring, in case they're loose,” he says as he hands them over.

“Thanks.” She doesn't wait for him to leave. Perched on the edge of the bed, she pulls the trousers up her legs. Tightening the cord as much as she can, she stands and is relieved to find they only drop slightly.

Glancing over her shoulder, she sees he’s preoccupied in picking out his own clothes so she quickly undos the dressing gown, letting it fall away and replacing it with the jumper.

Despite it being clean, it smells like him and she quietly lifts the collar to her nose and breathes him in. The sleeves are slightly too long so she rolls them up and by the time she's finished adjusting herself, she turns to see him dressed and pulling a baseball cap over his messy hair.

Back in the kitchen, he finds a bag for her soaked dress as she slips her trainers back on. Then his hand finds hers as they head back to the car park. She naturally veers towards the Urus, but he tugs her away and instead directs her towards what she spots is a Porsche.

Opening the door for her, he takes her hand so she can steady herself as she lowers herself into the seat. He slides into the driving seat with ease, firing up the engine that echoes around the car park as they cruise back out onto the road.

She watches him out of the corner of her eye. She knows zero about cars but she has to admit there is something incredibly attractive about the way he handles the vehicle. The confidence he exudes as he navigates the traffic out of the principality and then settles back to open her up as they hit the main road. She on the other hand is fighting to remain calm as they pick up speed and it takes all her effort not to wince when he takes a corner.

“You okay?” He grins over at her.

“Yup.”

He laughs. “You've gone pale.”

“Shut up,” she grumbles, making him laugh louder.

“Blame Max. If he hadn't interrupted us-”

“Compensating are you?” She teases. “Needed to show off in another way?”

“Something like that,” he concedes.

She chews her lip for a second and then boldly moves her hand over to his thigh. He feels him tense at her touch and she looks up to see his jaw clench ever so briefly, before he exhales steadily.

She looks away and out the window nonchalantly but inside, she's secretly thrilled at how much he's fighting to keep it together.

They hit a straight in the road, but rather than hit the accelerator, he keeps the car steady. A hand drops to find hers, bringing it up to his mouth for a brief second before he places it back on his leg.

She feels giddy - the combination of their intense but interrupted kiss in his kitchen, the feel and scent of his clothes on her, the power of the car, the way the backwards baseball cap suits him to a T, the sense of neediness she gets from him, the way when she closes her eyes she can see that one second glimpse of his dick and how long and thick it looked.

He steers the car off the main road, both hands back on the wheel as they take the windy road that leads them back to the villa. She's suddenly flooded with regret that they didn't continue what they started earlier. Why did she open her mouth to say she should go home?

“When can I see you again?” He asks suddenly as if sensing her regret.

“I… I have plans tomorrow with the girls. And I've got to get some work done on Monday…”

“Monday evening?” He ventures hopefully. “Come back to mine? I can get dinner for us…”

She nods. “That sounds good.”

He grins excitedly. “I’ll pick you up.”

“You can come to the door again,” she says in a relaxed tone that surprises even her.

“Wow,” he breathes. “You've changed your tune.”

She giggles. “I know you’ll do it anyway so I’m just giving you my consent.”

He brings the car to a halt outside the villa, letting the engine idle for a bit. A bit too long. Barely a minute passes as they sit unsure of how to say goodbye but out of the corner of her eye, Mia spots the gate cracking open and Lydia looking directly at them.

“I think we need new friends,” she points at Lydia who at least has the good grace to duck away but not before Lando also spots her.

“Cockblockers,” he groans with a slight chuckle as he scrapes his hand over his face.

“Definitely,” she winks at him. “Maybe change your locks for Monday?”

“Don't tempt me.”

She pulls her hand from his leg, gathering her bag. “I should go before they all-” she looks up to see all four girls now crowded around the gate. “Too late.”

“Wait there,” he murmurs, opening his door. She watches him give the girls a brief acknowledgement as he rounds the car and opens her door. Holding his hand out, he pulls her into a hug. Slipping his finger under her chin, he tilts her face up to his and places a soft, tender kiss on her mouth.

She hears giggles of glee from the gathered group as he releases her and slips his arm casually around her shoulders as they walk towards them.

She sees Ruby raise an eyebrow as she takes in her new outfit.

“We thought it was you,” Lydia smirks. “We could hear that car a mile off.”

“Good time, was it?” Ruby winks. “Love your new jumper, M.”

“Why’s your hair all frizzy?” Lizzie frowns.

“And where's your dress?” Cass grins.

“Shoo,” Mia waves her hand at them. “Can't you give us a moment's peace?”

“No,” Ruby says bluntly but they all reluctantly move back inside the gate. 

“So,” she turns her face up to his. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Monday.”

“Monday?” She hears Ruby echo.

Mia looks round to see Ruby standing just inside the gate. “Go away,” she says through gritted teeth.

“Invite him tomorrow. More the merrier. In fact, Lando, bring some friends too.”

“What’s tomorrow?” Lando whispers to Mia. “I thought you had plans?”

“We do,” she tells him.

“It's my birthday,” Ruby interrupts. “And all I want for my birthday is you happy,” she points at Mia. “And you,” she points at Lando, “are clearly making her very happy. So you are more than welcome to join us.”

“Ah, I don't wanna impose,” he says.

“No imposing, I'm inviting you!” Ruby insists before she sees Mia’s face. “Fine, work it out between you but all I'm saying is that he is welcome and if you want to bring some extra friends, we will make them welcome too.” She grins with a wink, dodging out of the way of Mia’s hand and heading back up the path.

“What are the birthday plans then?”

“She’s hired a yacht for the day.”

“Nice. Just the five of you?”

“No, some other friends she knows from around here. I think there's maybe 15 in total. It's a mixed group I think…” She trails off. “You don't have to come to be polite to her.”

“Do you want me to come?”

She chews her lip. “Don't feel like you have to round up some friends for her sake.”

“Is that a yes?” His eyes light up. She nods and he grins. “Text me where and when.”

His arms wrap around her as he turns her towards him. Leaning down he kisses her once, twice, a third time before he releases her. “See you tomorrow,” he grins, backing away to the car, biting his lip and making her stomach flip for a final time.

She leans against the gate, watching him leave.

“Aw, it’s like love’s young dream,” coos Lydia from the door as Lando disappears around the corner and Mia closes the gate. “So, Mia, care to tell us why you’re wearing a jumper and joggers that are clearly not yours?”

“We got caught in the rain,” Mia explains as she heads past. “My dress went see-through.”

“This is why you should have taken him back here,” Ruby winks. “So where did he take you?”

She starts to debrief them about lunch, the golf and then the rainstorm. But she pauses when she reaches the part about going back to his apartment.

“C’mon, you’re holding back on us,” Cass says knowingly. “You clearly went back to his place!”

“You don’t need to give us all the details, but we will willingly take them,” Lizzie grins.

“There are no details. He drove us to his place, he got me a towel and a robe and I got changed.”

“Well, you’re not wearing a robe now,” Lydia points out.

“Obviously, I couldn’t wear that in the car back here, could I?”

“So what was the point of the robe-” Ruby pauses and then laughs. “What happened between you putting on the robe and getting into this get up?”

“Nothing.” Mia feels her face flushing as she runs her hand through her hair.

“Hang on,” Ruby catches her wrist. “What is that on your neck?”

“Nothing,” Mia wrestles her hand free.

“It’s a fucking love bite!”

“Now you have to spill the beans,” insists Lydia. “Although it feels pretty obvious.”

Mia groans. “You are all getting ahead of yourselves. Nothing happened. We… we got interrupted.”

“Uh-huh, a love bite is nothing. Sure. Hang on, who interrupted?” Lydia asks.

“His friend. He’s obviously a close friend, he had a key to his apartment and walked in on us.”

“Walked in on you doing what?” Cass raises her eyebrows.

“Kissing.”

“The fact that you are blushing like mad, means it was more than just a kiss,” Ruby points out. “And it clearly was, given he basically branded you.”

“Fine, but you cannot make any mention of this tomorrow.”

“Ah, he’s coming, isn't he?” Ruby grins. “I don’t know why you didn’t invite him in the first place.”

“Because it’s your birthday?” Mia frowns at her. “Not mine.”

“Whatever. Back on topic. What happened?”

Mia closes her eyes. “We were kissing, his towel ended up on the floor and that’s when his mate walked in.” She opens her eyes to see them all staring at her transfixed. “Stop it. Do not mention this to anyone. Especially him. I don’t want to be seen as gossiping about him.”

“Secret’s safe,” Ruby promises. “But just one more thing. He dropped his towel… Did you get a y’know,” she wiggles her eyebrows. “A preview?”

Mia doesn’t need to say anything. Her grin says it all.

****

Thanks for reading - back with part 4 soon...!

[satorudoll]

☆ HE'S MINE ALL MINE —

#part 2!

: ̗̀➛┊! please read pt.1 before starting this, or it will seem like a block of nonsense !┊

☆ nerd + secret boyfriend!gojo x popular!fem reader

content: MDNI! explicit content, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, cunnilingus

word count : 7.5k

You stare at your reflection in the dressing table mirror, messed mascara that had run down and dried on your once pink cheeks, your eyes blank and shoulders slumped as you sat still on your vanity table as deftones continued to beat through your speaker,

but your ears were too numb to comprehend any passing sound right now.

"Are you seriously planning to not move from there!" Your elder sister barges into your room with annoyance, finding you sitting in your lacy tank top and grey shorts, face a mess, and your hair looking like you needed a seriously long shower.

"oh god you haven't done shit from the past two days- And- What on earth have you done to your room?!" She look arounds the small room made of pastel pink walls that had light scent of peony lingering over them, random black and white posters of artists and bands glued on those walls and your mess of a bed in middle of it all that had all your plushies and comic books lying around, leaving barely any space for a human body to rest, the lace curtains pulled over to block any ray of sunlight that could ruin your mood any further.

Your sister yelps while trying to make her way towards you as she almost trips over an empty can of coke that your forgot to dispose.

She manages to make it to you and stands besides your sitting figure before resting her hands on her hips and staring at you through your reflection as well.

"are you taking drugs?" she murmured.

"No!" that causes you to immediately snap your head towards her with big eyes.

She cocks a brow at you,

"Geez chill, clean you damn room up and come down to eat!"

She turns away and starts making her way back, pausing and picking up the pile of your bras from the floor, shaking her head and throwing them up your already messy bed before leaving your room.

"fuck.." you whine as you scratch your head and finally standing up from there, but you just end up pulling your phone from the nightstand and jumping to lay on your bed not caring about the kuromi plushies that were being squished under your weight.

Your mind takes you back to the evening from two days ago.

You walked up to Gojo and Utahime, interrupting whatever convo they were having.

You quietly walk up to them and Gojo notices you first while Utahime was telling him something,

Utahime turns her head noticing your presence,

then she turns to look back up at Gojo,

She raises a brow looking between you both

"Y/n? something wrong?" She asks,

She didn't think you were here for Gojo, She knew who you were though, the whole school knew the party animal ofc. But she had no idea you would have anything to do with the class nerd.

You quietly stare back at her,

what are you supposed to say? Should you just say you were here for your boyfriend? But what if Gojo gets annoyed because he was meaning to end it with you?

As hundreds of answers ran through your head and your mind was trying to choose the best answer, Satoru spoke up instead.

"She needs to borrow some of my extra notes. Exams are coming so its going to be necessary." Satoru speaks up, Utahime makes a face and looks at you,

"Ask me next time instead, I make better notes than him," She assured you causing Satoru to knit his brows at her

"Leave already" He says making her shrug and walk away.

She walks past you, leaving the both of you alone in the silent halls as the sounds of her footsteps fades farther away and the palms of your hand grow clammy again.

"You alright?"

Your head snaps up when Satoru's calm voice reaches your eardrums. The voice that has grown so much on you.

You turn towards him and fold your arms, looking down at your pumps as you mutter,

"where were you? you missed the class.."

He notices you looking agitated and responds in an assuring tone,

"I was assigned some work so it too way longer than i thought. Its fine there wasnt any issue"

Something about that annoys you,

maybe because you spent the entire 45 minutes fighting your the anxiety in your head, thinking that he was gonna break it off with you.

"Well you need the notes, i-" You shove your hand in your bag to pull out the notes you wrote, but he speaks up,

"Oh, don't worry about that. Utahime showed me the ones she wrote, i took the pics."

That makes you come to a full stop, as your brows knit together,

Your face snaps up at him,

He was staring back at you looking confused after noting the annoyed expression you had on.

"Don't worry i'll send them to you too along with the previous-"

You cut him off with a loud,

"Oh fuck this! i don't need any notes, fuck this shit!" You turn on your heels and stormed off.

This time Satoru definitely got the hint that something was wrong.

"Y/n!" He calls out for you with a growing frown and an even deeper growing confused expression on his face as he starts walking fast to catch up with you,

He didn't have any problem catching up with you thanks to his long legs.

He grabs you by the arms from behind and forces you to stop.

You tried pushing him, so he ended up pushing you instead against the wall, caging you between his arms

"Ugh, let me go!" You yelp, you wanted to bite your tongue down, you were feeling like your emotions were all over the place and you wanted to run away as far as possible before you mutter something wrong in this state that you might regret later.

"Calm down." Satoru gently voices while you try to wiggle out of his arms looking like a restless mad child.

"Y/n, calm down." He says again but in a much harsher tone causing you to finally stop at this point.

But you still didn't wanna look up at him.

He doesn't forces you to look up either, instead,

"Tell me, what's wrong?" he softly asks making you wanna further beat yourself for being the dramatic person that you are.

"I wanna go home." was your answer.

He blinks a couple of times,

"are you not well?" He asks, earning a shake of your head.

He finally sighs,

"Do you not feel comfortable telling me? We can go to the pharmacy and get you something if you aren't well right now. You should get something before it gets worst."

Your eyes get glossy by every passing second of you staring at the floor,

maybe it was a small thing, maybe whatever Satoru does for you is no big deal to some, maybe it is the bare minimum.

But you were someone who have never been lucky enough to get even that. So maybe that's why whatever Satoru did for you felt like a big deal.

And once again your head was filled with the big question mark of,

'What am i gonna do if he leaves me?'

Before Satoru could pull you out of your thoughts you finally shove his chest,

"I'm annoyed!" You were finally staring right at him,

His puzzled look was trying so hard to study you,

"Then tell me what's annoying you Y/N!" He finally was growing annoyed but still trying to keep his composure for you.

"You barely look at me when we are at school! You don't even try to lift your head from those damn books of yours to turn around and look at me! I feel like a fucking wall! I can chatter like a parrot all day as we sit and I barely manage to get a word or two out from you! It doesn't feel good Satoru!" You rant, a tear finally slipping out of your eyes.

Satoru watches with wide eyes and knitted brow but tries to move his hand up to wipe your cheek when he sees your tear run down,

"Don't touch me right now!" You yell and push his hand away,

He sighs and looks down for a second before lifting his head back up,

"Why are you suddenly so mad.. I told you, we have plenty of time to talk outside school-"

"Why??" you cut him off, your brows knitting as you bring your face closer to him.

"Are you embarrassed of being seen with me here !?" You finally speak out.

"What?? Of cour-"

You cut him off yet again,

"Hell, we don't even talk that much outside school either.. We don't do shit aside from fuck every now and than and stroll somewhere nearby when you feel like it."

You felt like the stop button of your mouth broke for good because at this point you were letting out everything that's coming in your mind straight out of your mouth

"Am I here to blow your steam?? Couldn't you find a nicer cunt than mine therefore you agreed to my childish proposal of going out so you couldn't give a fuck more than that because I'm just a dog barking as usual and following you around !? Can you try to make some sacrifices! Just tell me you don't want me around if I'm that annoying stop walking and treating me like a dog! Stop being so high on your pedestal, you might think so but I really am not a slut throwing myself at every moving body!"

You are breathing heavily,

He is watching,

Your eyes burning and legs growing colder every passing second, head filled with screams of regrets and embarrassment. You surely didn't mean to deliver the message that way, Sure you had a lot of problems to discuss with him but conveying your message this was was not on the plan.

Your vision gets blurry as you notice how his crystal eyes were surprisingly turning a darker hue of blue. Almost as if he looked thrown away, and so..

hurt.

oh god, you hurt him.

You both didn't move for a good minute or two.

Just staring at eachothers eyes,

one pair that was glossy while the other getting gloomier.

You still couldnt make up what was actually going in his genius brain but then he breaks the eye contact, pulling his backpack up on his shoulders he turns away from you and starts walking away without a word.

The way he walked away from anyone else.

You stand there frozen, not really thinking he would just blatantly walk away. He never walked away from you. Even when you first started sitting with him and being annoying.

Your stomach churned and heart throbbed in pain, you rather him cuss you out for being such a petty brat than not even bother saying a word to you.

Praying in your head he stop and turns back to take you with him,

Your eyes stayed glue at the hallway wall as you heard his footsteps eventually just fade away.

back to the present day,

you stared at your phone screen.

Staring at Satoru's name on the contact list, which was all the way down the bottom now being supported by no new notifications, your and his chatroom was shoved down by all the other random people who texted you.

He hasn't texted you anything for two days,

You were too afraid to even press his name on the contact list.

The silence he replied to you with from two days ago before the weekends started still booming and clawing at the walls of your head.

As you kept your eyes glued on Satoru and your messages a notification pops up.

Shoko:

"haven't seen you all weekend, just checking up on you"

You tiredly reply a "im good"

your message is instantly read and answered,

Shoko:

"its been so long y/n, the whole party misses you! I wont force you to go but there is a party at Geto's tonight"

You scrunch your nose remembering the pool party Choso was mentioning to you about in the hallways.

As soon as you were about to send a 'no',

you pause.

You'd be lying if you said that you didn't desperately needed to get your mind out off all the mess.

maybe you forgot the party animal you used to be when you got with Satoru. Maybe if you feel the thrill of it all over again you would realise how wrong you were, that Satoru really wasn't as addictive as you were thinking him to be.

and so,

you ended up agreeing to Shoko, making a mental note that you were heading there to prepare yourself for any sort of confrontation that Satoru and you might have in school tomorrow.

you were shaking your feet as you stared at the clock slowly striking 8:15,

sitting on your living room sofa ready in your lacy black mini dress and pink high platform heels. Hair done and spraying the most expensive perfume you could find in your closet. Just because you didn't attend a party in weeks doesn't mean you were gonna let go all your efforts of looking good.

But you were supposed to leave like fifteen minutes ago.

so why weren't you able to move?

Is it because its been so long?

"you haven't left yet?" your head turns to look at the raven haired woman in her pj shorts and random oversized shirt who was striding around the kitchen looking for something.

You shake your head noticing the notification from Shoko who was asking if you were going to be late.

"Is something going on?" You hear your sister's voice who stopped doing whatever she was doing and was standing next to you now.

"no.. im just.. second guessing"

you shrug

she furrows her brows, "you are really changing, that's a new. I haven't seen you be this way since ever."

you let her words sink in, and mutter,

"is that bad..?"

She nonchalantly shakes her head,

"i dont think so, you are about to go out and actually live a life in just few months anyways. you wont be in school anymore, me and mom wont be here 24/7 for you. i think its really good, like cmon, ive never seen you working on a fucking school assignment till 4am until a week ago. That's the time when you are out partying ignoring my calls of worries."

You remember the day she was talking about, your assignment was due that very day and Satoru didn't mind when you called him at 10 pm and he had to stay up all night that day to help you complete the assignment. You remember how tired his eyes looked the very next day, but he never complained. He said nothing even if it was your fault for keeping the work until last second.

You even got an A for that assignment, you've never gotten an A.

You were so excitedly tapping your foot on the floor that day when you received the grades, and it took everything in you to not hug Satoru in front of everyone right than and there. Satoru noticed that and let a small smile unconsciously slip past his lips as he continued taking his notes.

You remember screeching when the school got over and jumping on your boyfriend in the empty classroom,

and he held you without a word, he just smiled as he held you and you talked on and on about how happy you were.

and he just listened.

Your heart dully throbbing in pain when you recall the memories now,

You weren't mad at Satoru because he was a bad person,

but because being with him made you feel like a bad person.

You didn't want to accept that you might not deserve him and that somebody way better than you was out there for him.

You felt like it was better for you to just break up at this point than being together and hurting him from such a close distance.

"is it because of that boyfriend of yours?" your sister finally decides to bring it up

That causes your head to snap at her with big eyes

"what do you mean?"

"You didn't think nobody was going to notice that a random dude whose odd hair you can spot from miles away was dropping you everyday, did you?" she points,

"you are so stereotypical, cant normal friends walk eachother home??" you try to cover your secret anyway as you could,

"you both were literally making out for 10 minutes outside the entrance." She immidiately counter attacks on you.

That makes you shut up instantly.

"i never saw a guy drop you home, otherwise i wouldn't have even brought it up"

You sigh and bury your face in your hands. Your sister notices that and laughs,

"never thought you would be beating yourself over a nerdy guy like that out of all the guys I've seen you with."

you admit, "I didn't either."

"maybe that's good, you just have to try something different if the old ones don't work out. You have to step out from your comfort zone to find the things meant for you."

you wish it was that easy for you both who were in the opposite sides of the poles from each other to actually work out.

She walks away back to the kitchen but not before saying,

"and don't even think of staying back tonight, I'm kicking you out, my boyfriend will be here any minute and we agreed to let me have the house to myself."

and that's how you found yourself standing in front of another one of those big villas, you can hear the booming music and screams from where you stood.

Heaving a big sigh of frustration you twist and crack your hands and neck ready to not go back home anytime soon.

Trying to hold your big smile up you storm into the party, letting your hair flow through the cold winds of the night, not minding that you were wearing a sleeveless dress right now since you'd be covered in sweat from being in the middle of the roaring crowd in no time anyways.

You turn your head around every now and than to greet and wave back to the people who noticed and called for you,

some random people who you don't even remember running up to you and wrapping their arms around your shoulders.

The past you wouldn't have minded it and would've went along with the flow, but you wanted to shove the people aside right now.

However you refrain yourself from doing so, you didn't want to be a "bummer" like those people whom you used to refer to as 'party poppers' in the past.

You laugh along, acting fine and letting those people chattering around you guide you inside the house.

The surroundings around you slowly fades away to darkness, people's presence being illuminated by the several bright colors of spotlight that maniacally ran across the room. Your heartbeat growing louder from how hard the music was was beating through the air.

The huge villa was covered in tall white walls and windows, pine trees scattered around the big garden where you could see the big pool filled with floats of every shape glowing. You swore you saw a float shaped like a dick.

"Y/nnn, thank gawdd!" You see Shoko approach you in her bright red mini leather dress and high knee boots

"I thought you were gonna ditch me againnn" she whines, her eyes in the brink of shutting, You could smell the strong scent of alcohol everytime she tried muttering another word to you. You just arrived here and she was already out of it.

You decided that you were gonna let yourself loose and have so much fun tonight as well.

You weren't having an ounce of fun, the only thing you laughed at ever since you came here was when Shoko told you that she was so out of it that she thought Geto was her pet Doberman and tried kissing him as he started screaming and tried shaking her awake but she ended up throwing up all over him so he had left to change,

so now here she was, with you, trying to make you seem like a busy person in the party.

You were turning down anybody who came up to you and tried dragging you onto the dance floor, instead of loosing yourself tonight the music irritated your veins.

Shoko continued to slur some more of her 'fun' encounters that she had in the party during your absence while you nodded and your eyes continued lingering around the other moving bodies.

But your eyes suddenly halted its movements when you noticed the soothing color of night snow in midst of the crowd.

Your eyes got bigger,

the tall figure had his back faced, talking to some other people that you couldn't make out who due to how dark that side of the room was.

There was no way he was here.

How the fuck would he be here, he literally turned down all the parties you invited him to up until now and you always ended up ditching them along with him.

Why the hell would he suddenly be in one.

You were forcing yourself to look away when you noticed that the figure was about to turn around,

but its like someone had locked your gaze towards that direction, you weren't able to look away.

He turns around completely,

and your eyes caught his,

suddenly the loud booming of the music became dull in your ears and your vision became a bit more clearer, because you have no idea if you were biased, but he was standing out amongst the whole sea of people who filled this big space.

It was prolly the snowy white locks of his hair,

or his crystal blue eyes,

or the fact that he wasn't dressed anything like the Satoru you've been seeing this whole time.

Your boyfriend who was standing and staring back at you from the other end of the room wore a pair of loose black jeans, matched with a big leather jacket (you couldn't make out if the jacket was big or his frame was actually that buff, you would have no problem believing the later one), both the black fits contrasted by the oversized white jacket he wore underneath, and a small silver chain trailed around his neck.

He looked nothing like the nerd you saw everyday in school, or the guy in random sweats outside school, he looked more like the guy he showed you when you both were alone.

his white hair a bit parted and his glasses missing.

Any other day you would have stormed up to him to hide him because it felt illegal for him to be standing out in front of the whole world looking that fucking good.

But tonight your brows twitched, you grew annoyed at how you couldn't even walk up to him because what if he walked away from you like the other day, but this time in front of the whole crowd?? you were so fucking sure people will start chattering and you will be nothing but a an awkward figure of embarrassment.

You couldn't read his eyes, you never could.

That was just another reason that annoyed you,

what you did notice though was that he looked surprised to see you here, but definitely not as much as you were to see him.

You just forced your gaze to rip away from him and turn to face Shoko who was laughing at god knows what, she didn't even notice that you were focused on something other than her adventurous encounters. But you rather hear those than go near Satoru right now.

You grew way more awkward than when you came here since you knew now Satoru was here as well, you tried so hard to focus on Shoko's words but your heart wasn't letting you focus on any other presence in the room. It felt like you and Satoru were the only ones alone in this big room, no matter how loud it got.

You curse before turning your head to look at your side and quickly grabbing the cup of beer that was lying there since forever.

You chugged it down feeling the burning liquid prickle your throat but it was nothing compared to how much your chest was burning, tossing away the now empty cup you grab Shoko by the hand, and drag her away with you to leave the room because you doubt you will be able to otherwise focus on anything else other than the lingering gaze that was looming over you from across the room.

You took her all the way to the garden trying to not trip, you regretted wearing such high platform heels, they were way taller than what you would usually wear, but you just really didn't want them to be collecting dust. You gave up and wore them at the end with the mindset that if your ankles broke tonight then it was karma coming at you for being such an ass to your boyfriend, all the logical thinking had left your body in the last two days.

"What if i throw uph in the poolll" Shoko slurs as you shove her to lay down on the lawn chairs while you make your way to the pool,

"You aren't going to the pool, I am. And what you need, is sleep." You start unzipping your dress, stripping into your baby pink bikini.

You felt stares fall upon your figure but you didn't care since you weren't the only ones in so less clothing, literally half of the crowd here were in the verge of being fully naked.

Shoko whined but she shut up as soon as she started because her eyes gave out on her and now she had left to the wild dreamlands of her fever dreams.

you slowly stepped down the pool starring down at how it made your body glow.

You slowly swam around, at one point wondering if you should just drown here.

Shaking the thought away not wanting a whole case on Geto's hand you rose back up.

Taking a deep breathe as your pushed the wet locks of your hair back you didn't notice a figure approach you from the back.

You flinch and immediately turn to shove the person who suddenly wrapped their arms around your bare waist.

It was your last ex, of course.

The one who cheated on you, but you really didn't felt like crying that day because your short lived romance was anyways in the brink of fading into dust. But that didn't make him seem like a less of a jerk to you though.

You spent your good 10 minutes cussing him out and outing most of his dirty laundry in middle of the whole crowd of people watching your breakup unfold, just because you wanted to pull something funny and felt like he deserved it.

"I haven't seen you around in weeks" He speaks casually, leaning back against the half wall and slowly turning his gaze looking around for something interesting.

"you still stink, Naoya." You blatantly reply, shoving his hand away from your waist and folding your arms to leans your back on the half wall as well.

"glad to know your foul mouth is still healthy as ever" he laughs.

"shut up whore." you pass him a disgusted look, "what are you even doing here? no bitches willing to hold your dick?"

he sighs,

"saw none better than you here."

That makes you roll your eyes hard,

"I'm the dumbfck here trying to talk you here, bye" you try getting out of the pool but he immediately pulls you back by waist,

"you fuc-"

he cuts you off pulling you closer to him, your boobs pressed against his chest as his face is so fucking close to yours.

"you play so fucking hard doll, you've always been that way. why? is it fun to watch me yearn and long for you?" he whispers making your knit your brows farther wondering if he was drunk too.

"i bet you haven't found a dick big enough yet that can fit in every corner of your-"

you punch his nose,

nobody notices though since the party was that loud except two or three people who were closer to you, passing by the pool but they didn't seem to care, knowing that was just you being you,

"OW! the fuck!?" he immediately yelps shoving you away,

"you fucking bet i did whore, and if you want ill find some for you to ride as well!" You harshly splash the water at his face when he was just about to retract his palms back from his face earning another yelp from him.

You push yourself up from the pool, head feeling hotter than ever as you storm away to get your dress. you didn't even bother drying yourself, you just put your thin dress back on not giving a fuck about the way you just made the dry fabric completely drenched in a second as soon as it came in contact with the wet one.

You look down to take Shoko with you, but pause looking at her peacefully snoring state,

Shaking your head you walk back into the villa by yourself, unbothered about the trail of water you were leaving behind, but most of the people around you were doing the same. You feel horrible for whoever was cleaning this place up later.

As you mindlessly walked around pushing past people you felt your nose starting to burn, eyes becoming glossier.

You felt like a fucking mess.

So you pause, you don't take any steps further,

even if you were about to burst into tears right this instant here, nobody in this room would notice you.

Just as you were about to let a sob slip you feel someone trace your arm,

Your head snaps back to look at the tall brunette guy,

his doe eyes looks at you as he held a sweet smile on his face,

he didn't seem like a bad person, i mean you wouldn't know,

but he just gave off a good person vibe,

he looked drunk as well though.

But he didn't try groping you.

So you just stared at him, he was so out of it but he was waiting for you to join him and dance.

And you let every weight on your mind and shoulder fall down.

you were so tired.

You turn around fully to face him.

stepping closer to him he takes the hint and lets his hand fall down your hip, feeling the wet fabric under his palms he drunkenly blurts

"..is it raining here?" he questions innocently craning his head up to look at the ceiling.

That makes you laugh.

This one heartier than when you laughed at Shoko's story.

You keep your hands on his shoulders planning to start dancing,

but suddenly someone pulls one of your hand away from his shoulder.

Your nostrils filled with the familiar minty scent, you froze.

not wanting to look up, although the brunette guy was already staring at the person next to you both with a clueless expression.

"..am-am i interrupting something?" the brunette guy hiccups like a dumbhead when it was the other way around.

You couldn't even open your mouth, your lips suddenly felt so heavy and you still weren't turning your head to look at your side.

Your left hand still in his big warm ones.

"Y/n.." Satoru finally lets out in his low toned voice.

You didn't know if it was his presence or the insanely wet fabric on your skin that was making you slowly feel feverish

"Y/n.. please.. look at me.." He softly pleads,

something in his tone this time breaks your heart, crumbling ever so slowly you finally look up at him.

Satoru wasn't going to force you to go with him,

he wasn't going to force you to come with him if you didn't want to.

He instead kept all his faith on you, for you to choose him.

You stared at his face that looked a bit tired, his brows arched down as his eyes looked dull blue tonight, just like the other day.

Satoru looked sad,

You couldn't push him any further, it was painful,

you let go your other hand that was resting on the brunette's shoulder and he looked like he was conscious enough to let your hips go as well.

Satoru didn't seem to care how sweaty your hand was as he held them tight and turned around as soon as you let the brunette go like he was praying you chose him and didn't turn his time, taking long strides in his black converse he walks away, taking you with him,

he was holding tightly onto your hand, like you would leave as soon as he let it a bit loose, nobody noticed your small frame walking behind his big one that covered you up entirely.

You felt small once again.

You didn't notice that all the loud voices suddenly grew quite,

You hear the sound of door shut, and finally look around finding yourself in a big bedroom,

The room was spacious and interior clean, wood paneled walls decorated the four sides, only two long golden lights hanging from the ceiling leaving the room to look a bit dim, tall windows hidden behind the long beige curtains that were drawn over them, and a big canopy bed in middle of the bedroom.

Your head noted that it must be one of the spare rooms in here.

You felt a bit better as the light scent of vanilla and cashmere started to linger around you instead of all the sweat and mixed perfume of everyone in the crowd.

What you didn't like was however the silence that was eating you up now.

Satoru was still holding onto your hand.

You look up at him this time, and he turns his body towards you as well, not letting your hand go,

He notices you drenched from head to toe,

he didn't notice it before since it was way too dark in the room and he was too busy rushing to get you two out of there.

"Did someone push you in the pool??" He questions, worry laced in his tone,

you shake your head

"no, i was taking a swim.."

That makes his eyebrows knit further,

he sighs and pulls you to the bed,

making you sit down he finally lets go off your hand, walking away into the bathroom he comes back in seconds with a towel in his hand.

Satoru walks back up to you and gets on his knees in front of you, he wraps the towel over your head and starts rubbing the soft fabric against the locks of your wet hair.

you quietly look down at your lap, playing with your fingers.

He gently starts to dry you face and neck,

"Wait my makeup-"

"you can worry about that later" he heaves.

the more he dried your skin the more wet your eyes grew,

you felt your bottom lips quiver and you finally let out a weak,

"why are you going out with me?"

Satoru stops drying your skin and his gaze moves up to your face,

"you've grown on me y/n.." he says in a gentle tone as his hand moves up to caress your warm cheek.

"don't you wanna be with me anymore?" he questions,

patiently waiting for you to answer,

"i-" you start tearing up

"i wanna be with you so much, i wanna be by your side all time, I don't mind if I look like a dog running behind you, but you feel too good for me" you sob and he doesn't interrupt you, instead he continues to caress your cheek with his thumb, listening to your every word,

"I feel like if you actually decide to step out into the world you will notice people who are way better than me," you hiccup embarrassed at all the things you were confessing but he just quietly wipes your tears.

"you can do so much more than me- and a year ago I would have never guessed that ill be running my mouth like a parrot right now sobbing for you but who am I to know! I'm just an idiot who doesn't even have control over herself, I'm just insecure and scared that the world will realize how nice of guy you are, how kind your heart is and then they'll try to take you away, I even wrote down notes for you that day when you missed the class, and it is the most detailed notes I have ever made but its still no- "

"you made notes for me??" he finally cuts you off,

his curious eyes staring at you as you stop flinging your arms around from all the explanation and let out a small

"yes.."

He watches you finally go quite and he proceeds to cup your face, caressing your warm face as your nervous heart starts to slowly melt away when you see him softly smiling back at you.

"why would I have to go around caring to look for someone better if you are becoming better for me baby?"

that makes you slowly tear up again, you swore another thing Satoru has turned you into is a little crybaby.

This man just had that grip over you.

He engulfs you in his warm arms as you say

"sorry.. I really didn't mean any words that I said that day.. you looked so hurt.. I couldn't bring myself to face you.." you cry and his warm hug grows tighter as he rubs your head to calm you down,

"I'm sorry too.. shouldn't have left you there and walked away either" he says.

"i love you" you slip out,

that makes him pause,

he pulls his head back and looks at your eyes,

and questions,

"what?"

Your cheeks grow warm as you mumble,

"ugh I'm not saying it again, you heard me !"

you burry your head in his neck embarrassed.

"I didn't even hear you because of all the snot in your nose!" he defends.

"shut up, liar!" you smack his chest.

he heartily laughs before slowly smashing his lips against yours,

you immediately welcome him in your warm arms,

the rough texture of his lips softly crushing against your delicate ones.

his wet tongue slowly grazing against your warm ones,

Satoru swiftly pushes you up the soft bed and breaks the kiss, trailing his tongue down your chin, licking all the way to the side of your neck, slowly sinking his teeth into your warm skin making your moan and wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer,

running one of his hand down to your thigh, he gropes it before running them back all way up,

going further and further up under the wet fabric that was clinging onto your warm skin,

he pulls his face away slamming his lips on yours again after leaving a soft imprint of blur and purple on your neck, giving you a hard long peck before pulling away and taking his leather jacket off, pulling his white shirt over his head that causes his white locks to tousle before falling back to cover parts of his hooded eyes,

he grins down at you and whispers

"Why don't you start marking me up? so that whoever tries to take me away from you will know they can never be better than you?"

Your cheeks grow warm at that as he takes your hands and makes them rest on his firm chest

"c'mon baby, I want you to mark every inch of my skin.. wont you?" He smiles as you nod your head and trail your fingers over his soft pale skin,

But growing impatient he take a lock of your hair in his hand and shoves your face against his skin,

and you obediently lap it, before widening your mouth and sinking your teeth into his skin starting to suck on it

"suck it harder baby, take a mouthful of that skin" how else will they know I'm yours otherwise?"

You eagerly do as he tells you to, sucking a mouthful of his skin, leaving bitten bruises of blue and purple splattered across his pale chest as he watches your with a proud expression,

finally getting enough of it he flips your body, pushing the front of your body against the soft sheets he looks down at your figure with his hooded eyes,

releasing soft breathy pants through his parted lips as he pulls your thighs up so your back arches and your big plump ass was in his clear view,

he looked drunk,

but he swore he didn't have even an ounce of liquid ever since he entered the villa.

well of course you had to make up for how thirsty he was though,

He knit his brows, he felt hornier than usual he had to admit,

was two days of not having his face buried between your boobs and having you whining against his lap when you both were alone making him this desperate?

He could feel his thick cock grow painfully angry every second inside his boxers. The tight waist of his jeans bringing not even a little comfort.

"toru.." you whine, pushing your ass further back, bringing it closer to his face,

he grunts,

"yes baby.." he starts to quickly unbutton and pull the zip of his pants down. Shoving his hand in his boxers as he stares at the thin wet fabric of your bikini cover your ass,

he pulls his dick out, sighing as soon as some feeling of relief washes through his veins.

And quickly he pushes your thighs together, pulling down the bottoms of your bikini revealing your wet ass cheeks that had slick run down from your gaping and pulsing cunt.

He pushes his face in your ass, kissing and making out with your drooling hole before he plunges his tongue in, caressing the gummy walls of your insides as your cry loud and feel literal tremors run down your hips from the way he was easing the bundle of your nerves, pushing his hand up to messily rub and pinch your clit, holding the hard shell of your core in his palm as he massages it. Eyes sealed from feeling pure bliss, his nose buried against your puffy cheeks intoxicated by the strong smell of your inside,

his burning cock so fucking hard as it pulsated and released precum every passing second, he wanted you to stop him and grab his cock, for you to tell him to shut the fuck up and take his cock in your hand and shove it in your tight cunt.

But at the same time he wanted you to stay patient and let his hungry self eat,

No alcohol induced body in the room could compare to how pussydrunk your boyfriend was right now.

"Toru- Fuck! need your cock! please.." you whine trying to pull your ass away which was so tightly in the hold of his big palms,

He sucks hard, feeling the warm liquid of your insides gush down his tongue everytime he tried moving it deeper in your depths.

You felt your walls painfully tighten as you tried pushing him away but he just slaps your hand and buries his face harder,

"you love me baby?" he grunts as he slowly lets go your thighs finally and takes his hot sticky length in his palm

"love you toru.. so much" you mewl,

you get pushed up as he plunges his heavy girthy length into your warmth, immediately burying his face in your neck and hugging you tight from behind as he lets out a soft cry,

You could tell he was extra sensitive than usual today, you loved it so much,

you would like to believe it was the extra effect of you finally showing to him that your love for him was so important to you and how much you appreciated the way he took care of you,

His lips brushes up against the shell of your ear, biting it as you feel him grow thicker inside you, he held you so close, feeling his face grow warmer feeling the sensation of the way you both were connected down there. The skin of your bare asscheeks feeling the prickly trail of his snowy white hair down there

"I love you y/n" he cries as you feel his girth throb hard, your walls instantly clenching around him earning another moan from his throat.

you feel your cheeks grow warmer and the corner of your eyes start getting wet,

he brings his lips even closer to your ears and licks the lobe of your ear, trailing his right hand up and pulling your hands which was gripping the sheets so that he can intertwine his fingers with yours,

you cry as his other free hand goes down between your legs and roughly runs his fingers over your clit and through your folds.

Tears escape your eyes and Satoru kisses them clean,

"I love you baby, love you so much.. i-i only want you with me baby.. lets just love eachother.. hm?" he whispers, cradling you in his arms as he presses another kiss on your cheek, moving his head down and sucking the skin of your neck which was layered in thin sheet of sweat as he thrusts his hips hard, you both cry into eachothers warmth as you feel him start to penetrate your throbbing cunt balls deep, giving you strong yet long slow thrusts.

"love you toruu.." you moan and he kisses your lips, holding you so close to him,

"love you my baby... love you so much"

"ok soo.. i know i said they are the most detailed notes that I've ever made but I'm pretty sure I missed a couple of lines because I was too worried and zoning out every now and than thinking where you were yk."

He stares at you, raising a brow the more you spoke,

"so like we might still need the ones Utahime gave you." You smile at him innocently, tucking your chin on your hands, which were resting over his bare broad chest.

before he could respond the door flies open making you yelp and Satoru quickly wraps his arms around your frame to cover you up although thankfully you had already pulled the duvets up to your chest.

You and Satoru stare at the doorframe mortified,

another pair of mortified expressions looking back at you both,

Geto and Choso stood there with his jaw slacked open.

"The hell, did you not lock the door!?" you suddenly questioned Satoru who looks at you equally shocked.

"i did! You know I'm not that careless!"

before you could reply Geto spoke up

"Uh- I used my spare keys."

You and Satoru rolled eyes at that.

Choso screams "You are sleeping with that nerd!? You don't even answer my texts!"

its been a few weeks since,

You found out you weren't the only popular kid close to Satoru, Geto and him were close too.

You had no idea how you managed to never know an info like that, when asked he said he didn't think of it as a necessary information.

and turns out Utahime and Gojo really weren't on that good terms,

Utahime was whispering string of unimaginable profanities at him that day while Satoru was mockingly laughing at her and pissing her off even further.

You really are bad at reading situations guess.

nothing much has really changed since,

except, after Choso and Geto promised you both to keep your secret safe somehow ever so mysteriously the rumors of you and Satoru dating started to spread.

And it got confirmed when you just decided to stand up from your seat during lunch one day and sit down on your boyfriend's thick thighs like it was your birthright, you couldn't help it. They looked so thick and seatable.

The entire class stopped doing whatever they were doing and the room erupted in buzzing murmurs,

Satoru paused chewing on his food, surprised at your sudden move,

but he didn't push you off or anything.

Instead he proceeded to wrap his arm around your waist to keep you steady and peck our cheek before calmly picking up his chopsticks back again and continuing to eat.

That made you dramatically squeal and kick your feet as you watched the shell of his ear turn a very light shade of pink.

What a cute nerdy boyfriend you've got yourself who treats you like his literal princess <3

☆ — REBLOGS ARE APPRECITED !

(my hand hurts)

taglist: @ritsatoru @waka-babe

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unorthodox 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you bring order to the disordered life of Captain Syverson.

Characters: Captain Syverson, this reader is known as Izzie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

The rumble keeps you awake. A storm but not the type in the sky. You yawn and lean against the hummer door, jostling with the wheels as the roaring snores fill the compartment. Pierson drives and sends dark looks in the rear view, equally as disturbed by the burly man snorting and snuffing beside you. Neither of you dare disturb him. You’re not that dumb. 

The man is intimidating even in slumber. You pull on the seat belt and adjust your posture. The hours spent in the back seat have you stiff and restless. You envy Syverson. He can sleep through anything. You really believe that. If it wasn't for you, he'd oversleep the alarm in his phone every time. 

You yawn as you sense Pierson's attitude shift. You're almost there. He nods at you in the mirror and you sigh. You reach to grab the thermos that will be lukewarm at best by now. Still, you have to appease the bear. 

You reach to squeeze Sy's shoulder. He snorts and sucks in a deep breath. You try to shake him, an impossible task for most. You brush your fingers down his sleep and poke his muscle. 

"Syverson," you say tersely, "time to wake up." 

He slumps away from you and snores even louder. You roll your eyes. He's stubborn even when he's asleep. You pull your hand back and snap your knuckles against his arm. 

"Sy! Up." 

Still he is unaffected. You undo your seat belt and move closer. You uncap the thermos and reach around him, hovering it under his nose. He quiets and sniffs, grumbling. He moves stuntedly to wrap his hand around yours and slide the metal cup free. He sits up and purrs over the brim.  

"Coffee," he growls and gulps deep. 

"About there," Pierson states. 

Sy hums flatly and finishes the coffee in another swig. He hands back the empty cup and you shimmy back to other end of the seat. You cap the thermos and put it back in the plastic holder. 

"Remind me," he flicks two fingers at you. 

You stir around and bring out your tablet, sliding back the protective cover. You tap and bring up the contract, flicking through the maps as you go over the numbers. Units in the east, with another party coming from the north. Estimates are about sixty men total, fifteen vehicles, and ammunition to match. 

"They're tryin' to short us," Sy insists. "I can sell half as many for double." 

"Yes, you can," you agree, "but you also need to network." 

He chortles, "this isn't a boardroom, Izzie." 

"Don't I know it," you utter. You miss those days sometimes. Sand and sun make you long for climate control and complimentary coffee. "Money is money, I get it, but this is a big one. Could open a lot of doors. Make it so you can demand your worth." 

"Mm, so wise," he praises in his grizzly way, "kit." 

You fold up the tablet cover and once more search around the pack. You take out the toiletry pouch and hand it over. He finds the mini toothbrush and uses a gulp of the bottled water to wash up, spitting out the window. As he checks his watch, you reach over with a tissue to wipe a spot of paste from his beard. 

"Thanks, Iz." 

You go about cleaning up yourself. Worse than the cold caffeine and sleepless night, its the lack of hygiene that gets to you most. You use a face wipe on your skin and ball it up. The money is convincing and as much as you might long for the old ways, those office walls drove you mad. 

"I need a fuckin' drink," Sy grumbles as he rubs his eyes. 

"Tell me about it," you scoff. 

"Huh? You never do." 

"Not with you," you counter. "Don't drink on the clock." 

"Mm, so you do partake?" 

"None of your business." 

"Ah, come on, Iz, you can't dangle the bait in front of me like that." 

"You got your vest on?" You ask. 

"Always. Don't change the subject." 

"Not much else to say about it," you zip up the pack and sit back, watching through the windshield, a cage between the front and backseats.  

Sy straps on his fingerless gloves and furls and unfurls his fists. He's getting impatient. He always gets a bit uppity before a meeting. Especially with money on the line. You don't doubt him for a minute. He handles numbers as well as he does a gun. 

"Let's say I get them to tack on another fifty," he says, "will you drink to that?" 

You look at him from the corner of your eye, "depends." 

"Depends on what?" He challenges. 

"No Titos." 

He's quiet as he drags his boot tread on the floor. Even in such a large vehicle, he's cramped. 

"How'd you know?" 

"Someone has to keep your pantry stocked," you tut. 

He chuckles, "s'pose." 

You tidy yourself as best as you can and set your jaw. It took a lot to get used to the whole not smiling thing. You were never very keen on it but every job you had before required it. 

"You get this one, you get a lot more than money," you gird. "I know you will." 

"Ah, you trust me, Izzie." 

"Trust is a strong word. I know you'll handle it," you say as you stretch your legs, checking your own vest as you tighten the straps.  You sense him watching you. 

"Eh, I think I might let you take lead," he snorts, "you can be terrifying when ya want to." 

"Whatever," you shrug off the joke. Scary? You? 

What's scary is walking into a job interview with a brute sharpening a hunting knife as casually he might clean his nails. Scarier even is to say yes to the offer. Life does lead you to the most unexpected places. Still, you prefer it to the purgatory of predictability house in the white corporate walls of the past.  

[hvnsinureyes]

𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊—𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑜𝒶𝒹𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊. . . | nikola jokić

request | “Not saying you should write about him, but like, imagine big meany Jokic who gets all confused and fuzzy inside because he’s attracted/in love with a girl who couldn’t be more different than him”

warnings | lit just fluff!

author’s note | tbh if you told me i’d be writing about jokic 1 year ago i’d laugh in your face but…here i am. he’s fine asf tho i’m gonna speak my truth!

EVERYONE THINKS that nikola jokic is some mean, balkan guy who doesn’t care about anything but his horses. it’s almost shocking that he isn’t phased by winning a championship or his history making triple doubles, but a horse of his winning a race? groundbreaking.

but there’s another thing that nikola cares for— a soft spot in his heart that no one knows of but him.

“jokić!” you yell down the hall, a bright smile on your face.

it’s almost shocking how happy you are this early in the morning. it’s fucking 8 am! seriously, it scares him. he remembers when a stray ball hit you in the face while trying to get content for the team instagram page. it was so bad that it left a bruise on your cheek. still, you simply grinned and waved the boys off. “it’s no problem, really!” my ass. he could see right through you, knowing your smile was meant to mask the pain you were in.

he can recall a bunch of situations where you should have at least frowned, complained, or cussed someone out, but you didn’t. you stay joyful every day, taking whatever difficulties that came with your job in stride. there’s nothing normal about that at all. but it’s also…admirable of you, or whatever.

not like he’d say that to your face.

“what now?” he says as you approach him. he notices the phone in your hand, making him sigh in exhaustion already. he can't stand cameras. can't stand the press conferences, media days, and especially tik toks. while you on the other hand come up with new ideas for them every single second.

“i have an idea—“

nikola interrupts before you can even finish your sentence, with a deep “no.”

“i didn’t even finish telling you!”

“you don’t have to.” he mumbles, wiping off the sweat on his forehead with a towel. early practice today. weirdly enough, he hasn’t paid attention to the ache his body feels from it ever since you approached him. it’s always like that. you show up and fuck around with his mind. he becomes completely hyperaware of you— and the fact that you smell like vanilla today, different from your usual floral scent— and nothing else. he should probably see the trainer, but you’re nicer to talk to. sometimes.

“it’s probably stupid. have you ever seen me dance?” nikola is not offended, more so amused at the thought of you actually thinking he'd go along with it. but then, you bring out the big guns. you pout, clasping your hands over the phone. eyes pleading for him to go with it, just a little. how ridiculous. “fine, tell me.”

“so it’s this dance, and—“

“absolutely not.” he groaned, his tone was quick. he didn't even need to think about it. god no, anything but that. despite his resistance, you push anyway. you always do, as if you know that deep down, nikola will say yes every time. “pleaseeee! it’s not even hard to do, it’s so simple!”

“ask literally anyone else.” he scoffs, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he leans against the wall. but of course, you don't back down. instead, you mirror him, crossing your arms with a flair of intimidation (it's not working, but it's cute at least).

“but the fans wanna see you, nikola." painfully so. without fail, fans mention him in every video that's posted without his presence. where's jokic? avoiding you and your camera like it's his job. his brow furrows slightly, a quick flash of irritation crossing his features before he smooths it over. “how about they see me on the court instead?"

“i have to give them what they want!" you take a small step towards him, voice lowering in a teasing way. "what if i get fired, huh? who’s gonna annoy you like i do?”

he paused, the words landing harder than expected. a distant, almost impossible thought flashed in his mind. he wouldn't allow that to happen. his chest tightened at the thought of you not being around. permanently. he didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of you not being here, with him— not having you here to mess with him, make him want to roll his eyes until they rolled to the back of his head, made him feel something he couldn’t explain.

and like clockwork, he gives in, not without cussing under his breath in serbian. “oh my god, okay. i’ll do it.”

“yay!”

“ah, fuck off,” he mumbled, though a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. you just laugh, brushing off his attitude— which was more of an desperate attempt to keep up his cold, indifferent self.

“oh hush, you know you love me,” he felt his chest tighten again, not from pure annoyance, but from something else— something far more complicated. he wishes you were doing this on purpose, when really, that's just how you are with everyone. so kind and friendly, able to make anyone feel special with your caring gaze alone.

does he love you? no, that's crazy. but he loves the sound of your silly giggles, the size difference between you two, how soft you get with him after a loss, and the countless of stupid quirks that make you who you are. he doesn't know what it is. whether it's fondness, admiration, or obsession.

what he does know though, is that regardless of his hate for tik tok, he'll find himself going along with whatever you say.

“now let’s go! you have a choreo to learn and i already know you’re gonna take forever to learn it.” you make a move to drag nikola to the main gym, but he pauses, halting in his steps as he processes what you just said. “you said it is simple.”

“it is, but…you know.”

"i don't know."

"less questions, more walking!"

he rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop the faint grin spreading across his face. typical, ridiculous you. "fine. let's just get this over with."

nikola ends up dancing like a drunken uncle on his 10th bottle of beer, and forgets the choreo 30 seconds into the video. you try your hardest not to laugh but...

"go white boy go!"

"yeah, no, i'm done." you burst into a fit of giggles, phone shaking in your hand. he may have humiliated himself for millions of people to see, but at least he made you laugh.