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nereidprinc3ss · 8 months ago

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come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you.

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better.

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either.

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring.

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there.

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?”

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows.

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?”

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.”

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside.

“Nice, nice. What else?”

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.”

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening.

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.”

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself.

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.”

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.”

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.”

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice.

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.”

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better.

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.”

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry.

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.”

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless.

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.”

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart.

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.”

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again.

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle.

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life.

“Then I’m on my way.”

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime.

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?”

You shake your head and gasp a small sob.

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders.

His hand smooths over the back of your hair.

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear.

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.”

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight.

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?”

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.”

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.”

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea.

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave.

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.

At least, until he goes home.

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up.

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you.

“That among other things.”

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?”

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does.

“Okay.”

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

His lips pull into a melancholy smile.

“Anytime.”

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close.

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist.

“I can’t do that, honey.”

“Why not?”

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently.

“Because we’re not together anymore.”

“Why not?”

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is.

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down.

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.”

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.”

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke.

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.”

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again.

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.”

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales.

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.”

When he kisses you, it feels like home.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

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rockrosethistle · 1 year ago

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If there's one thing TGWDLM fans are gonna do, it's think about the implications. And the implications of the opening number are crazy.

So. We know that the show isn't completely chronological since the opening number takes place before the meteor hits. So that song is a sort of "flash forward" moment. But when you think about it, we don't really know how far in the future it takes place.

What we do know is that by the time it's happening, Emma is infected. She has a little solo in it singing about how Paul is pining over a barista

And we know that this is meant to be an infected Emma specifically. Lauren had other characters in the show, if they wanted to avoid the Emma implication they would've just dressed her as one of those.

So we know this is meant to be Emma.

And Emma isn't infected until the very end of the show. She's dragged off stage during the credits. So since she's infected in the opening number, we know the number takes place after the events of the show.

Another important detail is that Paul is infected before Emma. He's the one that passes it on to her.

So back to the opening number, Emma is infected. Which means by just following a simple timeline, Paul must also be infected. He should be singing and dancing, right?

But that's not what happens. Paul misses his entrance.

If Paul is infected, then there's no reason he should be missing his entrance. Furthermore, if he's a part of a hive mind, there's no reason other members of the same hive mind shouldn't know where he is. They are literally all connected by one brain, and yet both Mr. Davidson and Bill express they have no clue where he went.

What I'm saying is that Paul is not infected. He was infected (again, we know that because Emma is infected and he was infected before her) but now he's not anymore.

I'm saying there's a way out of the hive, and Paul found it. That's the only explanation that makes sense given the facts of the situation. Sometime after the events of tgwdlm, Paul is able not only to break out the hive mind, but to hide from it.

And if he broke out, others could do the same. Maybe even Emma.

Edit because a countertheory has emerged: Yes it's possible that everyone is infected the entire time and the show itself is just Pokey replaying the events for the fun of it. But it seems unlikely to me. First of all, each of the Lords in Black has a distinct personality. They all are evil, but within that they seems to fall somewhere on a spectrum of "silly billy" to "prick." For example, Tinky is more of a silly billy. He toys with humans without much of a motive and more for just shits and giggles. But in every instance, Pokey's more on the extreme side of prick.

He's one of the few with an actual motive behind what he does. In Yellowjacket, it's confirmed that Pokotho hates the sound of anyone's voice except for his own. The events of TGWDLM don't happen because Pokey is bored, they happen because he is executing a plan. So I don't think that he would just have them play out their little scenario just to entertain him, especially just one small island? I just feel like he'd be more focused on world domination.

If the theory is that all this is happening after Pokey's already taken over the whole world, no one was successful in stopping him, then yes it's plausible, but still weird. There are a strange amount of things in that show you just think an eldritch god wouldn't include.

Edit 2: New evidence has emerged???

The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is loosely based off of Invasion of The Body Snatchers. Paul's last name is even a nod to the main character, Matthew. At the end of the film, Matthew survives, and continues living among the infected, pretending to be one of them. And wouldn't that be just such a fun little parallel...

Obviously it doesn't prove anything but the source material doesn't lie folks.

#the implications #starkid #hatchetfield universe #hatchetfield #paul matthews #emma perkins #tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #npmd #black friday musical #theory #fan theory #jon matteson #lauren lopez

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blockedbykei · 5 months ago

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇)

🏐 — tsukishima kei x f!reader

— synopsis: something about the stars has always intrigued tsukishima, how even in the dusk of the night, the brighest star would light up the world and burn itself in the process. he also didn't know what to do when that star had turned into the person who seemed to make his days just a little bit better.

— warnings: nothing much, except angst. just soft yet also mean tsukishima who doesn't know what to do with those feelings of his. maybe he's a little ooc. based on "andromeda" by weyes blood.

stars, so miniscule, so far away from his touch, so beautiful even with the stygian waters that it swims on.

every night, after practice, tsukishima would walk his lethargic body home with his headphones in his ears, his neck bent backwards it could snap. but he didn't care, he wanted to watch the stars move and follow him.

he wanted to watch all the dead stars who shined the brightest, the stars that had turned into supernovas, the stars that are created. and he felt at peace— the soft rhythm and reverb of the song humming in his ears, and the stars that lead him home.

and occasionally, adding to his visual and auditory senses, a sweet drink on the palate of his tongue made his evenings better.

tonight was no different.

he had just bid his goodbye to his teammates, although timidly and without masking that annoyance he'd always bore against the little tangerine boy who always had a little too much energy.

tsukishima begins his journey, using the stars as his map, putting his hands in his pockets. yamaguchi hadn't joined him for tonight. actually, he hasn't joined him in a while, always walking yachi home, using her "safety" as an excuse (it really was the reason, but obviously there was another one).

still, he didn't mind the absence of his friend.

anri's soft doo-wop brings pleasantries in his ears as the song begins. his fingers tap inside the pocket of his gym shorts. he looks up at the night sky and connects his own constellations. tsukishima wonders if those stars ever know that they're being admired by millions of people in this planet, even if they'd died billions of years ago.

as a child, he used to think that the stars were the meteors that had killed his beloved dinosaurs. and every night, he would refuse to look up. but then akiteru, despite finding humor in his little brother's childish belief, had decided to tell him the difference between meteors and stars. and then added more information about those stars.

so now tsukishima loved three things: dinosaurs, strawberry shortcake, and stars.

his feet patter softly on the cobblestone that serves as a pathway to his home, the cool air drying the sweat off his temples and cooling his back, which reminds him to wipe his sweat when he gets home before he showers to avoid getting sick.

and then he suddenly comes in contact with a small body.

just outside of sakanoshita market, tsukishima's chest bursts in sudden (but light) pain from the person's elbow. and that person had emit a small noise of surprise and pain, stumbling backwards.

tsukishima was just about to snap, tell the person to look where they had been going and call them an idiot when his eyes met yours.

they're wide, irises darkened from the night's haze, and you're clutching your elbow, headphones askew. you rub the soft skin, a small pout on your lips and tsukishima wonders how painful was it for you to pout like this.

then you look at him and he feels the air stuck in his throat.

pretty.

"oh! sorry. i didn't mean to bump into you." you bow in front of him, hands pliant at your sides. tsukishima's at lost for words, lips only parted and looking at you. he still hasn't said anything when you bring yourself back up again.

"it's- it's okay." he finally stammers out, pausing his music and moving his headphones off from one ear. "sorry for not looking either." tsukishima bows slightly, just tilting the top half of his body.

you smile lightly at him, hanging your own headphones around your neck, scanning his figure. he suddenly feels shy under your curious gaze, watching as you read the print on the left side of his chest.

"karasuno...? ka-karasuno! i go there," you laugh lightly, like that discovery was the greatest news you'd ever heard. "i don't think i've seen you around. well, maybe because i'm new. i'm such a dumbass."

though the last sentence being a whisper, tsukishima contradicts: "n-no. i haven't seen you around either." he takes one step forward towards you, didn't expect himself to be nearer than he'd planned. "tsukishima kei."

you tell him yours in a polite manner, with a smile so bright you'd beat the stars that hover both of your bodies. "you're part of the volleyball club, aren't you?"

he hopes you don't see his wavering blush in the dim lights. "yes."

"cool! what position?"

"middle blocker."

"that's so cool," you face him, neck bent upwards to meet his eyes, hands forming into excited fists in front of you, like how hinata would get enthusiastic about something. "you're really tall. i bet, i mean if you could, you'd hit the streetlights when you jump."

that theory piques his curiosity. his eyebrows raise. "i haven't given it a thought. i will try it soon though." tsukishima finally removes his headphones and leaves them around his neck. he points to the bag in her hands. "what'd you buy?"

"chocolate milk. ukai-chan is your coach, right?"

"how'd you know?"

"i see him enter the gym everyday after classes. he owns this store," your head motions behind you. "can you tell him his mom is a little mean? i actually preferred it when he was watching over the store."

tsukishima smiles a little. "can't. he's our coach. he might actually drop us for his store."

your laugh may be brighter than anything else in existence.

"okay, well, see you around tsukishima-san." you smile at him, the pearls of your teeth glinting in the moonlight, the whiskers of your eyes denote the glee you've obtained from him and tsukishima softens just a little. you wave at him and walk past him.

he turns around, and even though your back was to him, his hand lifts and waves at you.

tsukishima walks home happier than he expected, a small smile lingering on his face.

🏐 —

"who you looking for, tsukki?"

yamaguchi serves his friend a teasing smile, holding the tray carefully in his hands. tsukishima looks down at his friend and deadpans:

"shut up, yamaguchi."

"sorry tsukki."

they sit down on the table hinata and kageyama sit on, the two bantering quite loudly on which flavored milk was the best and is advisable to increase their energy. kageyama says: "banana, you dumbass."

hinata argues that: "it's chocolate! it makes people hyper for a reason. could you watch your language?!"

tsukishima and yamaguchi sit beside each other, their backs to the window of the cafeteria, which meant that tsukishima has a view of the entire room, his height being an advantage despite the large crowds.

he blindly brings his bento out of his box, his eyes never leaving the heedless crowd. yamaguchi, ever the curious, most specifically the friend who always wondered what it is that ran through tsukishima's mind, asked again: "seriously, tsukki, who are you looking for?"

tsukishima huffs. "just sawamura-san. i need a-advice. on my blocks." the lie slips easily off his tongue that yamaguchi can't decide between believing him or forcing the truth out of him.

but tsukishima is slightly disappointed that even after five minutes, he still can't see the color of your hair amidst the throng of students. though his face might say otherwise (rbf), he can't help but feel a little sad.

maybe the star isn't shining so bright today.

he pokes and prods at the vegetables placed on top of his rice, stabbing the carrot and shoving it in his frowning mouth. he doesn't notice that hinata has been observing– no, looking at him. because hinata was never the type of person who could be discreet.

"stingyshima, you look sad," he doesn't know if it's a tease or not, but maybe it is. "is he looking for someone, yamaguchi?"

"i don't know," he shrugs. "he says he's looking for sawamura-san."

"he's right there," kageyama jabs his finger behind him, seeing daichi in line for the cafeteria food. "your blocks haven't been good? figured."

"sorry if i haven't lived up to your standards, king." tsukishima sneers. yamaguchi and hinata laugh, kageyama burning in his seat.

eating his lunch ended quite faster than he thought it would, and soon he finds himself walking along the hallway of the school building waiting for the remaining free time to end. so his boredom drags his feet towards the nearest vending machine.

the device on his ears blocked out all the haze and noise of the world, which left him in his own environment. it eased the nerves that trickled along his veins, rubbed the tension off his shoulders. in his own milieu, he could think whatever and say whatever and do whatever.

just like how stars form themselves however they please, explode and die whenever they want to. tsukishima didn't have better knowledge of stars than he knew of dinosaurs, but it was his own thought and he had the freedom to think whatever it is (although of course, with just a little bit of accuracy and validity).

tsukishima's eyes scan the plastic divisions for the sight of any strawberry drinks. when they land on one, he types the number and slips the cash in. the conveyor belts begin to twist.

but much to his dismay, when the drink was pushed, it never fell.

he tuts in frustration, his head falling backwards to release a tired, irritated sigh.

and then you pop up beside him.

tsukishima jumps lightly when he sees you put your head out and smile at him, clutching his heaving chest. somehow, your laugh had managed to drown out the song in his ears; he doesn't mind though. he thinks your smile was the most beautiful orchestra ever conducted.

he puts his headphones around his neck. "they're incredibly annoying, aren't they?" you smile up at him. "here, i'll help you."

suddenly, you begin to violently shake the vending machine. tsukishima almost feels embarrassed for you, but the lack of audience has rid that feeling. you, with your height, looked like a child angrily throwing a tantrum and had transferred your anger towards an object.

nonetheless, adorable.

finally, the strawberry drink fell down, and you squat to pick it up from the port to give it to him. tsukishima takes it from you and says: "thank you."

"no problem!" you beam at him. "i was actually looking for you earlier. i couldn't see you. did you eat at your classroom?"

tsukishima removes the plastic of his straw. "no. i was at the cafeteria." he doesn't want to admit he's looking for you too, but he hopes you can see it in his eyes.

(you don't. to you, he looked uninterested and entertained at the same time. very hard to read)

"aw, alright. well, i was just wondering if you'd like to, uh, switch emails?" you're shy and he finds it amusing. "not switch like i use yours and you use mine, but switch like i take yours and you take mine... so we could text each other..."

he wants to say that he knows, he's not dumb. but you– your eager eyes of softness look up at him and he forgets how to be so cruel and cold. like you were the kind of fire to melt the falling snowflakes. tsukishima nods.

"sure." he pulls his phone out with one hand from his pocket and hands it to you. you take it and give your phone to him, and it felt smaller in his hands.

when you exchange phones again, there's shyness written across your face. tsukishima can't help but blush with the way the sun kisses your skin the way it would to tainted windows– radiating colors so beautiful he can't help but simply be at awe towards you.

a star is created somewhere far away. tsukishima's heart skips a beat.

"i was actually looking for you, too. earlier." he admits, putting his phone back in his pocket. "i couldn't see you. sorry."

"don't be sorry!" there goes that smile again, always making his heart flip. "we both struggled anyway."

"do you want anything?" he points to the vending machine. "chocolate? banana? strawberry?"

"can i try yours first?"

tsukishima pauses, the straw in his mouth just finishing his sip. there's innocence in your eyes that riles him up the wall in ludicrous ways. he slowly takes the straw out between his lips and hands it to you, with you greedily taking it from him before his hand met you halfway.

he swears he could've been redder than any other person in the world when you so shamelessly put his straw in your mouth.

should i be worried about the germs or the fact that we kind of just kissed but not really?

when you sip, you swallow and he can see your brain ponder on what decision you were going to make. you hand it back to him and say: "yeah, i like that one, too."

how could you act like you didn't just drink from his straw?

tsukishima gets you one, this time without shaking the vending machine and hands it to you.

"thank you." you say, your smile adding to your gratitude.

though it seems as if time has reached its end and a familiar sound rings across the hallway that reminds the both of you that the free time was over. tsukishima sees your pout but you don't directly show it to him.

"well, see you around, tsukishima!" you wave goodbye to him, walking away.

tsukishima stands still, staying at his place. his drink was no longer cold, the condensation dripping down his fingers.

somehow, the colors are brighter, the drink was sweeter, the tension from his body had disappeared, and everything else felt lighter. and even if you were no longer standing in his proximity, that luster you left behind etched itself to him.

you were now his new environment.

🏐 —

you. hi tsukishima! 3:13pm

when his phone dings, he places his waterbottle to his side, tuning out the sound of squeaking shoes and bouncing balls. he sees your name on the screen. he doesn't hesitate to text back.

tsukishima. Hi. 3:13pm

his palms sweat from simply typing that greeting. but his heart seems to beat faster and his chest feels light. he didn't expect that you'd text right away. nevertheless, he feels elated to see you text him.

you. didnt see u at the gates earlier during dismissal, do u have training today? 3:15pm

tsukishima. Yes. 3:15pm

you. oh really? until what time? 3:18pm

tsukishima. 7. 3:18pm

you. okay! thats kind of tiring haha. 3:20pm

tsukishima. It is. 3:20pm

he winces at the possible tone he may deliver, so he adds:

tsukishima. Haha. 3:20pm

"bruh, you text so lame."

it seems that tanaka had been peaking over his shoulder as the conversation ensued. tsukishima hugs his phone to his chest and glares at him. "that's invasion of privacy."

"and that's how to lose a girl," he points at his phone. "you text like you're so uninterested."

yamaguchi looks at the two. "who's tsukki texting?"

"some girl named, uh,–"

"no one." tsukishima snaps. "no one."

"oh, it must be the one tsukishima was looking for earlier," hinata runs– or skips towards them. "stingyshima flirting? i wonder how you look like. i'm smart, but i won't tell you that i'm a smartass because i wanna impress you with my blocking skills. i'm so cool and so tall."

tsukishima hates how hinata mimics him. he bites back. "oh, i'm hinata. i'm so small."

much to his dismay, even sugawara had joined in. "you could tell her that, you know, i'm so tired. but i'm drinking water so that's good enough for me already."

he responds with respect, though dripping his annoyance. "sugawara-san, please don't mimic me."

his phone vibrates again, and everyone else leans in to look. tsukishima snarls and moves away from them, clutching his dear phone to his chest.

you. any chance we could drink later? 3:27pm

you. not alcohol, of course. just milk or juice, or a shake, even yogurt. although, we can't drink yogurt... 3:27pm

tsukishima feels yamaguchi peer over his shoulder, and he knows its him because of that distinct smell of his. he doesn't hide the phone away even when yamaguchi says: "she's asking you out! go!"

"calm down, yamaguchi."

he shakily types his response.

tsukishima. Sure. By the store again? 3:27pm

three dots, he's awaiting for your response.

you. okay! see you there :) 3:28pm

🏐 —

his practice ends at 7 on the dot. tsukishima has never left faster in his life.

though he was always the first to leave, bidding them goodbye before walking his way home. this was different– his goodbye bore that sense of urgency with a twinge of excitement as he clumsily slipped his regular shoes on, walking as fast as he could away from the school campus.

coach ukai had actually offered that they go back to the store together, but tsukishima was in a rush.

it was an eight minute walk to the store. he got there in five.

you were no longer wearing your school uniform. you had your hands at your sides, rocking back in forth from the heels of your feet, your headphones bobbing along with your head as you listened to your song. tsukishima wonders how he would approach you.

a tap on the shoulder? yell your name? appear in front of you? should he turn you around violently and smile awkwardly? should he–

"tsukishima-san!"

he didn't realize that he had spaced out, blinking. you approach tsukishima as you discard your headphones to hang them around your neck, stopping just a few friendly feet from him.

"how was practice?" you pip. "you look exhausted."

tsukishima reddens. "i'm alright. same practice anyway," he rubs the back of his neck. "should we go inside? i'm thirsty."

he hopes he doesn't sound too demanding. but you reacted normally, gave him a pretty smile, and led your way towards the store.

coach ukai's mother sat behind the counter, sporting the same cigarette in her mouth, a garbled greeting escaping her without bothering to look up as she read her newspaper. you and tsukishima find your way to the back where the drinks are.

he opens the door for you, the appliance bulb casting a white glow over your face as you bent and searched for what drink made your veins twitch with excitement.

"by the way, you know yachi hitoka?" you balance your hands on your knees, looking up at him. "she's your manager right? i'm in her class!"

"really?" he queries, swallowing thickly. "you're really smart, then. it's one of the higher classes."

"i try," you shrug shyly, looking back at the selection of drinks. "anyway, i asked her about you. she said that you were a middle blocker, 6 foot something, and that she liked your friend yamaguchi? i don't know, she said it then she denied it."

"oh, she likes him alright," he chuckles. "he walks her home every night."

"really?!" you pick up two cans of coke and clutch them to your chest, standing upwards. tsukishima shyly reaches for another strawberry drink. "i'm mad at her for not telling me that."

you make your way to the front with tsukishima following behind you. you place the contents on the counter, the woman behind muttering something you can't discern as she scanned your orders.

"are you allowed to stay out a little longer?" you ask him, the soft beeps of the drinks grazing his ears. he shrugs again, reaching for his wallet.

"yeah, sure. do you want to do something?" he places the payment on the counter before you were able to take your own cash out. you pout.

"i was going to pay for mine."

"it's alright. it wasn't that expensive, anyway." he smiles a little at you. and it was the first time tsukishima had ever smiled kindly at anyone, except yamaguchi, his mom, and akiteru. "you were saying?"

you pop open your can. "i found this really nice spot where you can stargaze. and, honestly, i'm bored and tomorrow's the weekend. i would have invited you to do this tomorrow, but we're here now!"

he laughs through his nose. "i'm free anytime."

when you both approach the exit, coach ukai and the team stand by the open doors. tsukishima stops on his tracks, his mouth parted the slighest as you tip your head back to drink your soda. when your head comes back in place, your eyes settle on the crowd upon you.

"oh, hello ukai-san!"

tsukishima looks at you through his peripherals before darting his eyes back front. they all snicker, eyes widened at the sight in front of them— cold, narcissistic, mean tsukishima kei, with probably the nicest girl in all of karasuno. yachi waves at you.

"is that why you were rushing to get out, tsukishima?" ukai teases, a cigarette hanging loosely off his lips. "i see you've met my number 1 customer."

he blushes when he's exposed, and he ignores the way you give him a surprised glance.

"so you must be the girl he was texting earlier," tanaka approaches you, offers his hand. "forgive him. he sounds lame when he texts, but trust me if you saw his face he looked like–"

"tanaka-san." tsukishima almost pleads.

while shaking his hand, yachi approaches you with yamaguchi behind her. "this is why you asked me about him!"

"shut up, yachi."

tsukishima could die right then and there. melt into a puddle of sweat and embarrassment. there were words exchanged between you and his ever loving team, the heat on his face becoming hotter and hotter at every second.

he wishes he could leave now.

by the time hinata begins to ask you a question about tsukishima's attitude, he sighs loudly. "excuse us, but we have to head out now."

you look at him again. "we do?"

"yes, we do," he looks down at you. "you told me, remember?"

you smile at him, recollecting your invitation. "oh, yes! we should get going."

you offer your goodbyes to the curious group. tsukishima wallows in discomfort, walking away with his shoulders slightly slumped and a hand in his pocket.

"i like them," you tell him, drinking your coke. "they're nice."

"they're really not," he takes a sip of his drink. "if you hung out with them, you'd be just as annoyed as i was."

his "joke" makes you laugh. first he thinks what could be so funny about his comment, then he realizes you don't actually know that he wasn't joking. the thought makes him swoon just a little.

"so why stargazing?" his and your feet are synchronized, stepping on the uneven cobblestone to the destination that tsukishima still doesn't know. your shoulder is closed to his when you walk; he resists the urge to put his hand out so that they'd graze your fingers, feeling the heat rub on his calloused skin.

"yesterday, when you walked home, i looked back and saw you look up at the sky," you reply. "and i realized that "oh, he stargazes too!" so i decided to bring you to my spot."

"your spot?" you hum in agreement. "why?"

"because it's nice to share the feeling of looking up at beautiful stars." you throw your now empty can onto a nearby bin, opening your second one. "i figured maybe you might feel the same way i do."

if it was admiration then yes, he felt the same way you did.

🏐 —

tsukishima realizes the walk was 10 minutes away from his home. now you're both standing at a hill where you can see all the houses nearby and karasuno at the other side.

you sit down on the ground, he copies you. his bottom sits on the soft soil, his fingers prickled by the grass, and the cold smell of the meadow enters his nostrils.

he thinks that everything is happening a little too fast – he had only met you yesterday, exchanged emails earlier, went out to buy drinks, and now you're both sitting at a hill stargazing like it's a date. your optimism and kindness shakes him a little, leaving him with an unknown thought of what he could possibly do as of this moment.

yet he's still here, watching you gaze at the stars, the sheer glow of the moon kissing your cheeks, the stars reflecting off the mosaic of your eyes. you're radiating this cordial heat that wraps around his right arm that rests just millimeters away from you.

"told you it's pretty," you beam, lips parted, never sparing him a glance. "you see that? that's cassiopea right there."

you point to the sky and squint, and it's only then tsukishima takes his eyes off you and follow the direction of your fingerprint.

you trace the invisible strings that connect each star to one another. blearily, his imagination turns those strings into silver. tsukishima draws nearer towards you, his shoulder now bumping yours, his pinkie grazing the skin of your finger.

"andromeda isn't here yet. but it's the one i've been waiting for the most," you turn your head to look at him.

tsukishima's breath hitches when he realizes that he may have underestimated how close the proximity he had created was, your breath fanning his face. he senses your surprise, the way the bottom of your eyes twitch lightly and your nose scrunches a little.

"i figure maybe they arive in a few weeks," he murmurs. he can sense your surprise and says: "you're not the only one who knows about stars."

"yeah? figured you were more into dinosaurs."

"that's true," he sniffles, you giggle. "when i was a kid i thought that the stars were the ones who killed the dinosaurs. so every night, when i see them, i would always cry 'cause i thought that they might fall here and kill us all."

"pessimist, huh?" when your head tilts up, your chin bumps his shoulder. "anything else i should know about you?"

"there's one thing i want to tell you but i've been making it plainly obvious."

"you have a knack for strawberries."

"yes," he smiles a little, the whites of his teeth appearing between his thin lips. "i like music."

"so do i."

"yeah? what genre?"

"...anri..."

"really?" tsukishima's eyes brighten, maybe even brighter than the stars. "i like her music."

"i thought you were kind of a japanese rock kind of guy."

"i can be many things," you look back up to the sky, your eyes darting between each individual star like you're tracing another constellation. tsukishima's tracing the features of your face like it was his constellation.

"yachi says you're mean, but in a way that brings up the team's drive to play harder," you say into the wind. "please don't be mean to me. i cry easily."

tsukishima wonders if he can even smile more than he is now. "i'll try my best. you're giving me a lot of reasons to be mean right now."

"but you're not being mean to me right now," you poke his glasses and shove them to his face, hurting the bridge of his nose. albeit tsukishima doesn't mutter a single complaint. "you're just being dorky."

"i am not!" he balances his body with one hand behind him, the other tugging on the end of your hair.

"now you're just being childish!"

your laugh beats out all the songs he had to search for to complete every single of his playlists. it was as soft as silk, as dulcet as violins; it was something he'd play on repeat when it played on his headphones. and your sweet laughed matched the way your face became even more beautiful.

tsukishima feels his heart beat a little bit faster.

a star explodes. supernova.

he no longer feels wearied from practice, his body languid from comfort in your presence. and just like last night, he was happy his day ended with something that lacked the usual bothersome feeling in his chest, but something that decompressed every constraint muscle in his body and think of something else that made the corner of his lips smile and his heart elated.

that's why when he went back home, when his mother and akiteru (who was visiting) were dead asleep, he silently descended to his room with a smile on his face, brushed his teeth with the sound of your laugh echoing in his ears, changed his clothes with your scent somehow lingering, and went to be thinking about you.

🏐 —

the past few weeks were more eventful than the days he had to train for the inter-high preliminaries.

the more he saw you, the more he felt himself unwinding like a diurnal motion, every trust and rigor travelling through his veins whenever your aura touched his opalescent skin.

you were the succor to his weary bones. you were the happiness that he never truly found in others. you were the light brighter than the stars could ever give him in the dark.

secrets were passed the way notes would in classes.

you got a sweet tooth? what dessert do you like?

strawberry shortcake, tsukishima said. no regrets, no embarrassment. pure adoration.

did you know that velociraptors aren't actually that big?

yeah? how'd you know that, tsukishima?

it's called reading, he'd roll his eyes. you're in the highest class and you don't read?

his retorts were never used to add insult to injury. that's what he liked about you– you knew when he was serious and when he wasn't despite the fact that tsukishima believed that he was hard to read. it seemed like you were able to read him better than yamaguchi has.

his heart aches at the thought. the ache, painful but so good, but something that he could not discern the true intention.

but he could never let you in him. never in his life.

you. saw a frog and it looked like you. loser. 12:51pm

you and tsukishima had exchanged countless of texts that contained topics that he never expected himself to be indulging in. that familiar ding! of his phone reminded him of you already, because you'd been the only one who constantly texted him more than yamaguchi has.

(also because, well, he set up a different tone for you.)

tsukishima sees your name pop up in a rectangular notification on his screen. he opens it with sweaty hands and a towel over his head, his thumbs typing out a snarky reply.

tsukishima. How could a frog look like me, (y/n)? That's dumb. 12:51pm

he ruffles his towel over his damp curls, the sweat on his temples being sucked into the cloth. he watches the three bubbles appear on your side and you say:

you. because i said so. look! 12:52pm

the attached image looked far from what tsukishima looks like. it was a regular frog, beside a pond, with no thoughts. he rolls his eyes.

tsukishima. I don't see it. 12:53pm

you. thats because youre not LOOKING. do u see his eyes? literally you. i think its the mouth, haha 12:54pm

he laughs either way despite not having seen any similarities. but laughing seemed to be a mistake, as he forgot where he was at the moment.

"quit laughing, tsukishima. you'll slack off," kageyama taunts from afar, face etched into an arrogant smirk. yamaguchi approaches him, peeking over tsukishima's shoulder to snoop on the conversation.

"are you worried i'll ruin your game, king?" tsukishima rubs the back of his neck, tilting his chin upwards. "my apologies."

you send him another text: omw there to see u :p 12:59pm

the latter's growl was overpowered by yamaguchi's hum of interest. "tsukki, that frog does look like you."

"yamaguchi, how nosy are you?"

"nosy enough to ask when will you tell her that you like her?"

tsukishima's eyebrows furrow. he did not like you. during those weeks, the both of you did more than just exchange texts in any time of day– often you'd meet after classes and buy a drink when he didn't have practice; sometimes you'd wait for him until seven in the evening so you'd both go up the hill again and talk mindlessly about things that tickled your brains.

in those few weeks, he had learned more about himself than he ever had with anyone else.

and he feels, though never actually given any attention to, that his days ended with a smile on his face rather than feeling boredom creeping up his shoulder like a grim reaper would on a dying soul.

instead, it felt like he was resurrected; tsukishima felt like a shooting star falling through evening, the fire pulsing through his veins as he fell. with you, he felt like everything else had color, that everything else made sense.

his life became brighter that it seemed like hinata's hair was actually on fire from the bright orange hues.

so no, he did not like you.

"i don't like her." he wipes the sweat that dripped onto his glasses. "don't be ridiculous."

"yesterday, when you were eating, you kept talking about how this (y/n) girl told you how the dinosaurs from jurassic park were created. and all of us were talking about one piece."

"so? it's way more interesting."

"but not her?"

"yamaguchi," he bemoans. "nothing is interesting about her."

that lie. that sickeningly, macabre, heartbreaking lie that it even hurt him to say it. tsukishima also doesn't understand why yamaguchi has a horrified face plastered on him, but he realizes he wasn't looking at his friend, and was looking behind him.

he whips his head around.

the tips of your shoes had mud on them from the dampened soil. your umbrella hung loosely around your wrist and dripped on the ground. your fingers clasped around a small contained with what seemed to be strawberry shortcaked that looked delectable enough to make his stomach hurt. and your chest heaved from what he assumed was the aftermath of rapid walking.

despite the sight that had made his head spin, the affliction that twitched from your frowning lips and the gloss that made your eyes shine from dejection had turned the situation into something so monotone he feels like his soul had just left life.

a star dies in the middle of the galaxy.

tsukishima thinks the regret plastered on his face may be seen. he hopes that it is.

the sound of squeaking shoes and ricocheting balls continue, but the ringing of his ears are louder. you swallow thickly, shuffling on your feet, and approach him hesitantly like he'd burn you if you were near him.

"i brought you this because you looked so pale yesterday after you practiced," you say softly, though he could hear the pain in your tone. tsukishima takes the container from your reaching hand, and swears he sees your breath hitch when his fingers graze yours.

"thank you–"

"see you around, tsukishima," you bow, before you hurriedly leave the gymnasium.

it felt like the room was shrinking rapidly on him, his muscles pressing in on his body in a suffocating manner. yamaguchi puts his hand on tsukishima's shoulder, leaning down to check in on his distraught friend.

"tsukki," his eyebrows are raised in concern, voice loud enough to snap tsukishima out of his pity daze but low enough that everybody else remained distracted. "hey..."

"i'm fine," he looks up at him. "it's nothing. i'm- i'm fine. let's just go back to practice."

his fists clench when he shoves the cake into his bag and walks back into the court. his blocks are futile when he thinks of your eyes. his serves hit the net when he thinks of the frown pasted on your lips. and he feels himself at the bottom of the game when another star dies.

he just doesn't know if it was his or yours. could a heart break two times?

🏐 –

tsukishima had a crisp trepidation towards the true veneer of love.

he believes he was too young for that, that he was in a stage where he would have this deep passion for things that were alive albeit something that he can't touch nor interconnect with– hense is unfathomable love for dinosaurs, stars, and strawberry shortcake.

so whatever it is that he was feeling for you – he doesn't know if it's love. tsukishima feels like he could die if he didn't see you for a single day; his feet and his body restless up until you both meet after practice.

tsukishima is even more restless now.

there wasn't a single text from you since 12:59 in the afternoon.

there was almost a hundred texts from tsukishima since 3:00pm, the time he had excused himself early from his practice.

he lays on his bed, his headphones on but no music. he wasn't in the mood to put himself up in brighter spirits. his back rests uncomfortably on the thick mattress, his curls splayed across his pillow, a hand on his chest and a hand holding a fork, his feet spread apart.

and the strawberry shortcake you gave him rests on his chest, half eaten, his mouth chewing sadly on the sweet delicacy.

"do you think stars have thoughts?" you asked. tsukishima found this beguiling and preposterous simultaneously, however the curiosity that happened to lift his lips into a dazed smile made him release a teasing retort:

"you certainly don't."

you threw a grape at him. he caught it with an open mouth. the sun was about to set, but the warmth was enough to prevent the both of you from shivering idiotically on the hill at the cold breeze. "i'm approaching an epiphany, asshole."

your vulgarity made him smile more. "celestial bodies, more specifically stars, do not have thoughts. but they're alive, and they function into a cycle."

"unorthodox minds like mine go out of the box," you rolled your eyes. "sorry, i'll put it in simpler terms so you could understand. i have a very creative mind."

"oh yeah?" tsukishima tilted his head sideways to present his interest. "and what'd you mean by that?"

"you know how stars die and create themselves?" you queried. "it's like how phoenixes rise from the ashes as they're reborn. but when a star resurrects, they're called "zombie stars," right?"

"yeah."

"and i'm not saying that they have a mind of their own, but if you were to input your own thoughts into a star, then yeah, it's like they resurrect themselves to live on with life over and over again, and don't you think that's exhausting? they're like dead stars, and they still shine brightly, and it's ironic, right? because something that has been dead billions of years ago still shine. it has a meaning into it that people just... completely ignore."

"so an analogy?" his eyebrow raised.

"yeah, something like that," you licked your lips. "when you see a bright star, and you don't know if it's a dead star. but imagine stargazing and finding love in something that has been dead long ago."

tsukishima's body softened. "uhuh."

"but what if you keep loving that star? and that star just receives so much of that love that they're able to resurrect themselves. well, obviously loving a star isn't actually gonna bring it back to life because there's a separate scientific explanation for that, but i'm saying that– that if you love something, or someone, hard enough that you're able to bring light into their lives, then that's possible.

and they take all that love for the benefit of their life and... they burst into something beautiful called supernovas."

tsukishima stared at you, his gaze ever so adoringly. "and what's the point of this epiphany of yours?"

"that loving someone that has been gone inside their body is possible to save them and bring them back to life to turn them into someone even more beautiful."

tsukishima sits back up, a whiplash from the quick commotion.

it was already night when his thin curtains were tainted black from the dark glow of the evening.

he pushes himself off his bed, slip his way out of his home and clumsily puts his shoes on to find you.

and he knows exactly where you are.

so it's no surprise when he sees you all alone, laying down on the meadow of the hill, blooming flowers grazing your cheeks in any way the wind blows. tsukishima stands and stares at you longingly, his fingers twitching beside him.

"(y/n)."

he says your name like an oath to the stars. you sit up, hearing his voice, cheeks dry with tears melting onto your skin. tsukishima's heart breaks the slightest when he brings himself up the hill.

"what are you doing here?" you ask him, voice so small he'd think you were whispering.

to his surprise, tsukishima falls onto his knees in front of you. he finds it endearing that despite the reduce of his height, you still look up at him. then he takes your hands into his, his thumbs tracing every ridge of your knuckles, looking deep into your eyes.

"i didn't mean what i said." he declares like he was under jurisdiction of the judge. "you are–... the most interesting woman in the world. the most beguiling, the most entrusting, the most beautiful."

your eyebrows furrow, hands shaking in his grasp. "what are you saying?"

"that i'm an asshole." he admits. "you are so interesting that every epiphany of yours pulls me back on the ground and into you. that epiphany you had about dead stars that resurrect themselves from getting so much love? shit, (y/n), that may be me."

you let out a tiny gasp, maybe a breath of reliefz his face is so close to yours, his knees in between your legs, bumping the side of your thighs. "what?"

"i–... i don't know if you love me. you don't have to. but you've made my days brighter and gave my life meaning that i felt like i was resurrected. like all the pieces in me were brought back together. and everything else just felt... alive."

finally, you smile. just a little, but it was enough to make the grass greener and the color of your shirt turn pastel, your eyes vibrant in the night. "yeah?"

"yeah," he laughs, idiotically he may add. "i like you. i like you so much. i like you more than i like dinosaurs."

you guffaw, throwing your head back, hands never letting go.

a star resurrects. a supernova explodes.

"i like you more," you say, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

it was enough for him to jump on you to press his lips on your awaiting mouth, gently pressing you down on the grass, his hand on the back of your head to soften the blow as he settles himself in between your legs.

his mouth, sweet with strawberries and ardor, his hair soft like flowers when your fingers tangle on the golden locks, his glasses pressing against the space between your eyebrows and the bridge of your nose, his tongue that hovers respectfully on top of your bottom lip.

innocent, lips full of solicitude, he kisses you deeper and with care, his head tilting to open his mouth the slightest so that he could get closer to you. the small sound that emits from your mouth makes him pull back and smile shyly.

his eyes had the galaxies reflected off his eyes that it made space seem like they were golden from his irises. you take his glasses off, placing them beside you, and let your hands rest on his face; tucking his hair behind his ear as you do so.

and above your intertwined bodies, andromeda swims across the stygian night sky, traced by invisible strings. just as tsukishima predicted.

tsukishima could stare at you for the rest of his life.

tsukishima loved four things: dinosaurs, strawberry shortcake, stars, and most especially:

you.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!

#haikyu x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu #haikyu fluff #haikyuu tsukishima #kei tsukishima #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima haikyu #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x you #kei tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader

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apoloadonisandnarcissus · 1 month ago

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The Physicality of Sauron x Galadriel: Cosmic Connection and Physical Attraction

We already heard the expression “cosmical connection” a million times, and even I already discussed that in this post. Expressions like “higher beings” and such have been used by the actors and show producers to describe Sauron and Galadriel’s connection.

And, then, we have this iconic moment:

What does this “cosmic connection” means? Both Galadriel and Sauron/Mairon are immortal spirits. Mairon, as a Maia, is one of the Ainur, and one of the forces who first shaped the world, alongside the Valar (Ainulindalë or “Music of the Ainur”). He’s ancient, being around since the Days before Days (before the world was created).

Galadriel was born during the Years of the Trees, thousands of years later. And she’s of one the Children of Ilúvatar, an Elf. Her grandparents were among the first Elves created by Eru to live in Valinor.

What’s the difference?

Mairon belongs to the Unseen world, because he is, up and foremost, a spiritual being. And like all Maiar and Valar, he can choose his physical form (Halbrand, Annatar, etc.) in the Seen world. And he’s not bound to it, but these forms are all the same spirit. Hence the big focus on “Halbrand is Sauron” in Season 2, and even Charlie Vickers said many times in recent interviews how he wanted to show that continuity between both characters in his interpretation of Sauron in Season 2.

Galadriel belongs to the Seen world, and cannot chose her physical form. She’s bound to the one she was born with (in this sense, Elves are pretty much like Men, who are also Children of Ilúvatar). In the Third age, Galadriel can move between the Seen and Unseen world, but that’s not the case when she and Mairon first meet.

Let’s see what happens when Maiar and Elves fall in love:

Melian and Thingol

In the Valaquenta, we were introduced to some Maiar of interest. Melian was one of these. She’s a Maia to Vána (Vala of preserving youth and of fauna and flora on Middle-earth, also known as “Queen of Flowers”) and Estë (Vala of healing and purveyor or restful sleep). Melian dwells on the gardens of Lórien, and has a magical voice, great wisdom and was beloved by all. Birds, especially nightingales (her signature friends) surround her at all times. Around the time the Elves are created by Eru, she ventures across the Sundering Seas and arrives on Middle-earth.

Centuries later, the Teleri are the third or the Elf clans (alongside the Noldor and the Vanyar) to take the Great Journey, from Valinor to Middle-earth. Their leader, Elwë (Thingol) has the habit of wandering the woods by himself. One day, he ventures a forest called Nan Elmoth, in Beleriand. And there she meets Melian, and he was absolutely smitten.

“Enchantment” falls on him, and when he actually hears Melian’s voice, it’s all over. Her song fills “all his heart with wonder and desire.” And this is before he actually sees her: when he finally does set eyes on her, he’s at awe, because the “light of Aman” is reflected in her face.

Love overtakes Thingol, completely. He takes Melina’s hand, and “straightway a spell is laid on him.” Suddenly his plans (to reunite with his friend Finwë, to lead his people to Valinor, to dwell again in the light of the Two Trees) just disappear. He forgets everyone and everything. Thingol and Melian just stand there, looking at each others’ eyes, hands clasped, and perfectly still, for (according to some sources) 200 years. The trees grown tall around them. And no one knows Thingol is there, so his people search for him in Beleriand, in vain.

Since this event seem so over the top, many speculate that an actual spell, indeed, fall upon Thingol, even thought Tolkien gives no indication of him being “enslaved” or joining with Melian against his will. Anyway, one theory is that this meeting was orchestrated by Eru himself, because many key events happened because of it. Meaning, they were “doomed” to meet and fall in love:

Thingol and Melian will go on to establish the first of the organized Elven kingdoms of Middle-earth, in Beleriand, and rule it as Queen and King: Doriath (and their people are known as the “Sindar”);

They will have a child, described as “fairest of all the Children of Ilúvatar that ever was or shall ever be”: Lúthien, who would help in defeating both Morgoth and Sauron in the future.

In order to be with Thingol (= have sex with him), Melian retained her physical form, and became bound to it after conceiving a child with him. Meaning she couldn’t access the Unseen world, anymore (= return to her true spiritual form).

“Rings of Power” created a parallel of Thingol and Melian’s first meeting with Galadriel and Mairon, throughout Season 1:

Then an enchantment fell on him, and he stood still; and afar off beyond the voices of the lómelindi he heard the voice of Melian, and it filled all his heart with wonder and desire.

He forgot then utterly all his people and all the purposes of his mind, and following [the sound] and was lost

But he came at last to a glade open to the stars, and there Melian stood; and out of the darkness he looked at her, and the light of Aman was in her face. She spoke no word;

[…] but being filled with love Elwë came to her and took her hand,

[…] and straightway a spell was laid on him so that they stood.

[…] thus while long years were measured by the wheeling stars above them; [not only are they outside, but Galadriel armor has a star sigil – and, no, this is not Fëanor’s sigil, it’s a different design]

[...]; and the trees of Nan Elmoth grew tall and dark before they spoke any word

Like Thingol and Melian, there is no need for words between them. They look into each others’ eyes and feel it (“I’ve felt it too”). This makes it hard for the audience to understand what is happening between them, but it is what it is.

However, I think this was *the moment* when they truly saw the extent of their mutual feelings for each other; when their souls are merging due to being bound together (via Morgoth’s crown). Which explains their reactions here: Galadriel is shocked, and Mairon is in happy disbelief. “Wait- you’re actually in love with me?”

Galadriel thinks Sauron is evil incarnate, she’s not shocked because he stabbed her, come on.

Which, again, explains this expression over here. This is pure joy, and he has tears on his eyes: Mairon believes that Galadriel is about to join him, and they are going to run into Mordor the sunset together.

Cosmic connection and Physical attraction

Galadriel belongs to the Seen world, the same as Thingol. But their Maiar pair, Melian and Mairon, are from the Unseen world. Meaning: are these connections only spiritual (“cosmically”) or they have a physical component (“lust”), too?

We know that Thingol and Melian went physical with theirs, because they had a child together. Since Thingol is from the Seen world (and cannot access the Unseen world) he’s both a physical and spiritual being (Elf) but he’s only spiritual after the death of his physical body. The same with Galadriel.

Both Maiar and Valar are capable of feeling love and lust in Tolkien lore. We see this not only with Melian, but with all Valar couples. We also see Melkor/Morgoth lusting after Lúthien when he saw her dancing for him (this implies a very physical sentiment).

Then Morgoth looking upon her beauty [Lúthien] conceived in his thought an evil lust, and a design more dark than any that had yet come into his heart since he fled from Valinor. Thus he was beguiled by his own malice, for he watched her, leaving her free for a while, and taking secret pleasure in his thought. Lúthien dances for Morgoth on his Dark Throne [before she puts him and all the host of Angband to sleep with her magic singing]

In other works describing this episode, Tolkien goes on using words like “lust”, “hunger”, “blinding thrist”, “pleasure”, and stressing the importance of Morgoth trying to reach out for Lúthien with his hand (= he wants to touch her). Meaning, there is a real physical element at play here (even if it’s evil and diabolical).

Mairon himself got pretty “touchy” with Galadriel back in Season 1. This is not random, and this implies the connection between them was not only “cosmical”; Mairon, a spiritual being, wanted to touch Galadriel, meaning, there was as a physical element/attraction there, too.

We also saw this with Mirdania in Season 2, the she-elf of Eregion who reminded him of Galadriel, and was used as a plot device for the audience to see that Galadriel is always on Mairon’s mind.

Meaning: yes, Mairon wants to “shake the sheets” (or the table forge) with Galadriel. It’s not only “cosmical” or “spiritual”. He desires her, on a physical level, too.

Mairon, the Maia of Aulë

To understand the physical attraction, we need to go back to the beginning of Mairon himself.

Mairon was created by Eru as a Maia of Aulë, the Vala of smithing and handiwork. He was among the most powerful Maiar, and the purest one, too. Eru created him to be good and loyal, but also to love several things: crafting and creation (smithing), beauty, order and perfection, and to dislike wastefulness. These were, most likely, Mairon’s contributions to shape the world in the Ainulindalë.

Melkor/Morgoth used Mairon’s love of order and perfection to corrupt him, and turned it into an obsession with domination and control. Morgoth corrupted his goodness and loyalty into evil and treachery (turning him into “the great deceiver”). His love of beauty corrupted into ugliness, by the breeding of the Orcs. Mairon’s greatest virtues became his downfall.

And who better embodies the qualities of “beauty” and “perfection” than Galadriel herself? Her beauty is the stuff of legends, and everyone is at awe when they first meet her. Her very gold/silver hair inspired the most legendary jewels in existence: the Silmarils. The light of the Two Trees of Valinor shine on her hair and eyes.

We also see Galadriel connected with “smithing”: she’s the object of the love and lust of the two legendary Elven smiths: Fëanor and Celebrimbor (Brimby in Tolkien lore, not in “Rings of Power”). Fëanor was inspired by how the light caught her hair to create the Silmarils; and he asked her for a few strands of hair, three times, and three times she denied him. In the Third age, Galadriel would gift strands of her hair to Gimli, a Dwarf, a Child of Aulë (the Dwarves were created by Aulë himself; another connection to smithing and to Mairon’s original Vala).

Yes, "Rings of Power" really went there. All the paralells.

Galadriel is also connected with power, something Mairon liked from the beginning, too (which caused Melkor to target him and get him to his side). She's not only power-hungry, but she's powerful, herself, and will only grow in power as the years go by. She's a natural leader, proud and rebellious; she was born to rule (literally, because her father was High King of the Noldor in Valinor, she’s an actual princess).

Just like Thingol and Melian!

Galadriel was also a pupil of Aulë and his wife Yavanna, back in Valinor. Which means, that if Mairon wasn’t corrupted by Morgoth/Melkor and he didn’t betray the Valar, they would have met, then. And what would have happened? Galadriel would never marry Celeborn, in the first place, that’s for sure (they met on Middle-earth, not in Valinor). And if sparkles happened in Middle-earth, in the most antagonist of scenarios (with Mairon already corrupted), OG Mairon and Artanis (Galadriel’s original name) meeting would set Aulë’s forge on fire. Artanis would have the most enviable jewelry collection in all of Arda. Because Mairon would gift her and worship her, nonstop: I will place crown(s) upon your head. I will never rest until all Arda had been brought to its knees, to worship the light of its Queen.

The “what ifs” don’t stop here. Because Artanis and Mairon power couple would parallel Yavanna and Aulë, too. Yavanna, Aulë’s wife and queen, “Queen of the Earth”, physical form is described: “in the form of a woman she is tall, and robed in green (…) crowned with the Sun; and from all its branches there spilled a golden dew upon the earth.”

Wild how “Rings of Power” already went there. Several times:

In fact, the first regal outfit we see Galadriel wear in "Rings of Power" is a teal (greenish-blue) cape and a gold dress. And she's wearing a gold flower crown. All hail, Queen Artanis, stronger than the foundations of the earth? Interesting choice of words, because Aulë created the "foundations of the earth" (= mountains).

In 2x02, we see Galadriel planting flowers, while wearing green and with a gold leaf crown on her head (as she was meant to be):

How could Mairon not love her? That’s the real question. Galadriel is the materialization, the physical form, of everything he was designed to love. And she can’t change her physical form, mind you. She belongs to the Seen world.

And this was probably the reason why Eru brought them together, in the first place: for Mairon to recall his original purpose. And probably to rub on his face what he lost for being a evil b*tch and side with Melkor. Galadriel is already bound to another (Celeborn) in the eyes of the Valar and the Eldar. The only way to “undone” that is for the Valar themselves to give permission.

#saurondriel #haladriel #sauron x galadriel #galadriel x sauron #galadriel x mairon #galadriel x halbrand #artanis x mairon #Haladriel meta #Saurondriel meta

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telanadasvhenan · 3 months ago

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thinking more about the psychological aspect of solavellan, and before I start, I'd like to stress that this is NOT CRITICAL of it, I actually think it's what makes part of the dynamic interesting. My word isn't the be all and end all, however, this is just my musings on the topic :] Also, REALLY long post! so, more under the read more lol

From Lavellan's point of view, I would personally struggle to see her trusting another lover or close one again for a long time, if ever again. I don't really think people ever talk about the real impact of the things she goes through, or what solas put her through, and the hurt as a result of it. The relationship is never defined between the two of them, it's always spoken about in vague undetermined words from their companions and poetic elvish between the two of them. Are they lovers? companions? partners? it's really up to the player. Leliana says that "you were close", Sera says Lavellan is "in it." Vhenan means home, heart, it's not a word said lightly imo and he tells you he loves her by their second kiss. It's never an official thing, so how secure can Lavellan truly feel?

This could go both ways when it comes to the break up. Crestwood, as a scene, is so interesting to me because the first portion seems like a man brought to his knees by weakness for the woman he loves. The two of them never cease to touch, fingers entwined, shoulders brushing, skin to skin. It's so reminiscent of how Lavellan matches his Hallelujah cadence. They're two parts of a song singing together. It's a gorgeous scene and it's understandable how so many are angry at how it ends because the whiplash between how it starts and what it leaves you with is severe. Imagine this from lavellan's shoes.

You're desperately in love with someone at odds with your people, who is wonderful and enticing and smart. Loving solas feels like loving the whole world, like being free and connected with the stars. But you don't know what this is. And, if you thought you did, how far can you presume? Is Lavellan always on edge, scared to love him deeper and richer than he loves her? or is she in a false sense of security, assuming his affection is forever hers. So when he not only breaks away your faith and trust in your history, plus potentially the vallaslin, she is clearly deeply upset. This isn't a minor fact that simply can be swept aside. The vallaslin is important. And Solas, even with the best intentions, has hurt her. He knows it and there's a reason why he apologises (bc he wimped out on the real truth). How much more does he know about her people that he has refused to tell her or kept from her by omission? Can you imagine the embarrassment, the utter humiliation of that secret? how many memories of them together where she replays his distaste for her people in her mind, knowing that he has access to knowledge that could change her perception of her past? Its ALOT. and thats even before the breakup.

Solas is not kind about the break up. It's rushed (impulsive to me) and doesn't do their connection justice. His composure cracks in places and it's very unlike him. It absolutely blindsides the player, so imagine being in Lavellan's place, AFTER THE VALLASLIN? personally, I wouldn't have been able to function. I half suspect that a sad, calm Lavellan is also in shock or disassociation. Because how else do you cope? The lack of communication between them alone is enough to raise my eyebrows. He promises answers. He confides that she saw through his mask and doesn't tell her what was real, and what was fake. He has given her a kernel truth whilst keeping her in the dark. Everything he told her could be a false, imaginary polite mask or it could be the truth. Where does it end? Where does he begin? Where does she stand?

I don't know if everyone has experienced what it's like to be ghosted or for a friend to simply disappear one day, but it changes you. I say this as someone who has both been avoidant as well as anxious, but you never recover. Someone disappearing like that makes you doubt any reassurance that people won't just evaporate from your life. So when Solas just disappears, the game's single conversation with Leliana feels a little lacking to me. I understand that they can't really dedicate a lot to it, I get that, so I'd like to fill it in. At first, it's search parties. Solas wouldn't just leave her like that. He promised her answers. He started another mural just before they left for corypheus. He didn't intend to just leave, surely.

Days, weeks and months pass. The question is worse than the truth. Is he dead? Did he use them? Was he being truthful when he spoke to her in those ruins, or another polite mask he could hide behind? Is it better if he's dead or better than he didn't deem her worthy enough to even say goodbye? We, as the players, obviously know this isn't true, but she doesn't know that. Does your lavellan assume the worst and be overcome with grief that her one love, her heart, her home, was nothing more than a lie of omission? or is there anger there at his betrayal of her trust once more? I seriously doubt it was easy to forget or dismiss. That kind of disappearance ruins your trust with people. Something. Anything would have been enough.

Again, this is all my opinion on how these emotions would play out and DEFINITELY NOT canon nor do they have to be! But I seriously struggle to see how Lavellan could even come to heal from these wounds within even a two year time skip. By the time of trespasser, almost everyone has left her side. She's almost entirely alone again, save Cullen and Josie (and leliana if she's not divine). And thats okay: they all have rich lives to return to. But that must just reaffirm to her that no one will stay. She is alone. How does she trust again?

And then there is Fen'harel. Lavellan's reaction to fen'harel has always lacked the fear I kind of hoped would be there? I mean this isn't just a minor deity, this IS THE antagonist of her entire faith. I'm assuming that she's lost hope in the gods, even though it's confirmed to her that they're real, but that message has been a part of her since childhood. So learning that he is the dreadwolf, again not from him, but from the fragments of his past must cut her deeply.

Her love was never who he said he was, she knows this, but who is the real man? She's never known him in a context where he can truly show her. Her love is fragmented between each identity he holds. Her trust that he is who he said he is fragments with it. The knowledge that not only has he been watching the inquisition, her, for years without a single hint that he lives or is okay must destroy her. Could you imagine how insignificant you must feel to him? And he essentially affirms to her that yes, in the greater scheme of things, his love and hers are inconsequential. They cannot matter to him because he cannot strive from his path. His indulgence was a mistake. And it's undeniably cruel. I love solas and I cannot argue that he was kind to Lavellan because he wasn't. To me, there is no way to see his actions as kind. Understandable, absolutely and definitely without malicious intent.

Lavellan learns that he loved her just as deeply, if not more. He loved her with all his heart and it did not matter. She changed him and it has only brought him more pain. He loves her too much to even allow her near him, to even give himself that weakness. They are apart from each other in an endless distance, only the two of them in the world. No one else.

Obviously, each Lavellan is different, and I've made a lot of assumptions, but I think it's worth considering. How do you love someone again after all of that? How much can you rebuild your faith after what you have learnt. Lavellan has loved a "god" (I know he's not a god, but for all intents and purposes, he has the power of a god and wears an evanuris crown.) and in turn, a god has loved her. And he left her with one last embrace that will leave its mark on her forever, then he leaves once more. Lavellan is alone.

Each love after is met with suspicion, distrust and comparison. Lavellan is entirely changed. How many pieces of her can be taken away until she is no longer herself? Each person wears a new mask she cannot determine. Where do they begin? Where can she find herself?

How lonely it must be to love someone like Solas and be at the other side of an endless distance.

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undressrehearsal · 7 months ago

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is it casual now?

chapter 1

summary: you and ellie agreed that this was just for a little fun - so what's the harm in her inviting you to joel's for a movie night?

word count: 2.3k

tags: nsfw, fingering (e and r receiving), angst, dub con?? i think?, does this count as public sex?, this shit's messy af y'all, mean reader, toxic relationship

a/n: i've wanted to write a fic based off this song for a while now. i've seen a few people write it (the song's a banger) but i only ever see ellie being written as the distant toxic one and tbh i don't think that matches her character so here's the opposite

also i hid a one last stop reference in here if you find it you get a prize (it's not hard to find)

if you wanna be tagged in the things i post, just lmk in the replies!

Joel was trying to decide what movie you should watch.

At least, Ellie thought he was. She could see the way his lips were moving - could even make out the words Dawn of the Wolf, whatever that meant - but she couldn’t actually hear him. She sat across from him at the dining table, nodding along, trying to school her expression into a pantomime of interest, but his words were drowned out by the ringing in her ears.

Your hand on her thigh crept higher.

Ellie shifted in the uncomfortable wood chair, uncrossing her legs only to recross them, and your hand didn’t move. You stroked slow circles into her jeans with your thumb; she would have thought it was absentminded if she didn’t know you so well. Ellie could see you in her peripheral. You smiled politely, nodding along as Joel listed off what movies he had found lately - it had become his mission to hunt for them while he was on patrol. (He always insisted that Ellie needed to be familiar with all the classics from before the outbreak.)

Somewhere past the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, Ellie heard Joel say her name. She blinked, shifted in her seat again, and replied intelligently, “Huh?”

He shook his head at her and laughed as he said, “Where you at, kiddo?”

She ran a hand through her hair, purposely avoiding looking at you - she knew she’d only find that shit-eating smile on your face. “Sorry, had patrol late last night. Yeah, that movie sounds cool.” She had no idea what movie he had suggested.

It didn’t matter much in the end. After switching off the lights, Joel sat back in his big old recliner (he’d looked like a fucking kid on Christmas morning when Tommy gave that to him), leaving the couch to you and Ellie. You leaned into her with your head on her shoulder; she had her arm draped over the back of the couch, not quite touching you. She was dancing a fine line between wanting to hold you and knowing you wouldn’t let her, but the tightrope was slipping from under her feet because you had put your fucking hand on her thigh again. She’d swear there was a damn magnet connecting your hand to her.

Ellie covered a gasp with a cough when your hand drifted between her legs. Your eyes were glued to the flickering television, but there was no hiding the small, satisfied smile on your lips. And she fucking hated herself for wanting to kiss it more than anything.

The tattered blanket you shared covered up the fact that the tips of your fingers were grazing across the seam of her jeans. Even the ghost of friction made her squirm, the movie becoming nothing more than white noise. You were too fucking bold, and her head spun when your nimble fingers undid the button and slid the zipper down so slowly it ached. When your fingertips dipped below the waistband of her boxers, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Joel. He was enthralled in the movie, and she couldn’t even pay attention to it; she hated herself for that too.

She knew she shouldn’t; she knew she should’ve grabbed your wrist, told you to stop so she could just enjoy the movie with her… with Joel. He’d been trying to plan a movie night with her for a week, and tonight she had finally been free from patrol. God, she shouldn’t have invited you, but when he asked if she wanted to bring a friend, of course your name had popped up.

She should have known it would be a mistake - an intoxicating one, but a mistake nonetheless. And when you dragged your fingers over her, pressing the lightest pressure to her clit, it took everything in her not to tilt her hips against your hand in search of friction.

Ellie bit down on her lip so hard she'd swear she tasted blood when you dipped just the tips of your fingers inside her. It was embarrassing how easy it was - how wet she already was and you had hardly even touched her. But when you circled her clit, your fingers already soaked, the shame burning in her chest evaporated. Her eyes fluttered, heat burning in her stomach, your touch setting her aflame. Her fingers dug into the back of the couch. She longed to touch you, to just wrap her arm around you and hold you close, press your head to her chest so you could hear how her heart reached for you.

Instead, she could only grip the couch behind your shoulder, gritting her teeth against the ache of it. You didn't even look at her, playing with her as though it were an afterthought, but there was no missing the smirk on your lips. She hated it; God, she wanted to kiss you.

Ellie didn't dare look at Joel - she didn't think she could handle seeing him so engrossed in the movie he had been so excited to show her while she sat only a few feet away, coming undone on his couch. She couldn't handle the shame rising in her throat again. If she looked at him, she was sure she'd be sick right there.

She tried so hard to keep it together - her hips ached from the force of holding them still, her lip surely cracked from biting it. Her chest burned with the moans she had to swallow like acid. But she couldn't keep it all in - it was overflowing. And when finally, the coil in her stomach threatening to snap, a low groan spilled from her lips, Joel turned to look at her.

Ellie didn't want to think about what he saw, but whatever it was, it made his brow pinch in concern. She couldn't meet his worried eyes when he said, “You okay, kiddo? You don't look too good.”

Your fingers hadn't even fucking slowed. You looked at her with a mask of concern, batting your eyes so innocently even as you pressed your fingers into her, curling them so you hit that spot that made her see stars. And then Ellie did grab you, gripping your shoulder in warning and glaring down at you. You wrinkled your nose, but relented and slid your fingers out of her; her grip tightened when you slid back over her clit. Fuck, she never should've invited you.

Ellie cleared her throat; she couldn't look at either of you without feeling sick, so she turned her gaze to the movie. What was it even about?

“Sorry, I just-” Her voice was strained, suffocating in her own throat. She felt like she was going to swallow her own tongue. The coil in her stomach tightened and she felt nauseous. She groaned again, and the words tripped over themselves in a rush when she said, “I don't feel good.”

Ellie stumbled to her feet, forcing you to withdraw your hand; when she glanced down, she could see that your fingers were wet and it made her stomach twist. Keeping one hand over her stomach to hide the fact that her fucking pants were undone, she hurried from the room, ignoring Joel when he called after her. She couldn't look him in the eye or else she might actually puke.

Making a beeline for the bathroom, Ellie slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, the wood cold against her back. She took a deep breath, counting the cracks in the ceiling until her heart finally stopped bashing against her ribs, her throat burning. Pinprick tears stung her eyes as she fixed her pants, her fingers shaking so hard she could hardly grasp the button.

Cursing under her breath, Ellie braced her hands on the bathroom sink, her shoulders sagging. Her eyes were rimmed red; she scrubbed her hands over her face roughly, willing her stomach to settle.

She shouldn’t have been upset, really. The first time your hand had found its way into her pants, all those months ago, you had made it perfectly clear what this was. She could still hear your voice from that night, saccharine sweet and smelling like the whiskey you had nabbed from her cabinet: Come on, Els, Jackson’s so boring. We can just have a little fun, right? She remembered the weight of your body when you climbed onto her lap, your thighs warm on either side of her hips, your hands pressing her back against the couch. She could still feel the way your breath had ghosted over her neck, your voice dripping with honeyed desire: It's just a little fun.

Her own eyes looked so unfamiliar, a stranger peering at her from the bathroom mirror.

Cursing again, she turned on the faucet, bending to splash water on her face - it was December and the water was so cold it numbed her hands. It was a welcome relief against her burning skin.

Ellie felt so fucking dirty it hurt. No matter how she scrubbed at her skin, rubbing it raw, she couldn’t seem to rid herself of it. The cold water stung her cheeks.

A knock on the door made her jump, cold water splashing down the front of her shirt. She cursed, pulling the damp fabric away from her chest with a grimace before calling, “Give me a minute, okay?”

But you had never been very good at listening, had you? You didn’t even look surprised when you pushed the door open, ignoring her protest, and found Ellie leaning against the counter, water still dripping from her chin. If anything, you looked almost amused, quirking an eyebrow at her. It was the look you gave her every time you got her worked up, your eyes showing the laughter you bit back. She fucking hated that look.

Ellie glared over her shoulder at you, but there was no real malice behind it - even when she hated you, something in her still softened when you were around. A switchblade girl with a cotton candy heart.

You closed the door softly behind you, leaning back against it with a smug smile that she wanted to wipe off your face - she just wasn’t sure how she wanted to yet. Ellie could hear how your ego tinted your voice when you said, “Joel sent me to check on you. Probably thinks you're barfing your guts out or something.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, looking away from you and mumbling, “Yeah, I guess dinner didn’t sit well….”

You scoffed and the sound went straight to her stomach. She felt rather than saw you step behind her; she tensed when you placed your hands on her hips, leaning forward to put your chin on her shoulder. Her hands gripped the edges of the sink so hard she thought the porcelain might crack. She could feel the heat of your body all the way down her back, your hips pressing into her ass, and her traitorous heart fluttered embarrassingly.

Ellie met your eyes in the reflection, watching as your smile grew into something almost mocking. You placed a kiss on the back of her neck, pressing your words into her skin: “Damn, Els, I didn’t know Dawn of the Wolf got you so hot and bothered.” Your fingers pressed into her hips, pulled her back against you. She failed to smother the sigh it pulled from her. She hated how it made your smile widen, and she hated even more how much she wanted to fucking kiss it off your stupid face. She shivered when she felt your teeth graze over her neck, and almost missed it when you muttered, laughing, “God, you’re so fucking easy, you know that?”

Ellie shoved away from the counter, spinning on her heel and grabbing your wrist before you could flinch away. You had only blinked before she slammed you back against the wall, praying that Joel didn’t hear it. Her fingers wrapped so tightly around your wrist she could feel your pounding pulse, pressing it to the wall above your head. She slipped her thigh between your legs, pressing up into you, and she only had a moment to register that smug fucking grin before she slapped a hand over your mouth. She relished in the way your eyes flashed in something akin to fear. She had to find wins where she could, right?

Leaning forward so her nose brushed yours, Ellie growled into the back of her hand, “Don’t make a fucking sound.”

And she did get to wipe that cocky smile off your face. She kept her hand over your mouth, releasing your wrist to snake her arm between your legs. She muffled your moans, hissing when your nails dug into her biceps.

Joel was in the next room, she thought distantly. Joel was in the next room, watching the movie he had been so excited to show her. He was in the next room, concerned about her, waiting for her, and here she was pressing her best friend into the wall of his bathroom. She had your pants around your ankles, two - three - fingers pushing into you. She could feel the vibrations of your moans against her hand - she wanted to press her lips to yours and swallow them, knowing you would never let her.

It came too fast, Ellie pressing into you relentlessly if only to make you fucking shut up for once. Your body shuddered against her, and she wanted to hold you through it, but by the time it was over you were already pushing her away. When her hand fell from your mouth, you were smiling again. Maybe she was going to be sick after all.

@filtered-sunlight

#are you proud of me that this isn't 10k words #idk how many chapters i'll write #i'm kinda winging it rn #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #lesbian smut #ellie x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou #tlou smut #tlou angst #this is p angsty

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lunartuness · 4 months ago

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Spoilers for Book of Bill

Thoughts on Bill talking about Ford

I was not prepared for canon Billford in the year 2024 and yet here we are.

But seriously, I'm kinda surprised how much Bill actually liked and valued Ford? Obviously it's in a horrible, toxic, never come within the same continent as them kind of way but it's just, I always kind of figured their relationship (while obviously adoring from Ford's end due to Journal 3) was mainly just Bill humoring Ford long enough until he no longer needs him. Like, 'yeah, sure, of course you're special, I definitely believe in you' sort of nonsense.

But in Bill's book it's implied multiple times he had as close to a crush on Ford as he's probably capable of. I mean, the whole 'love cage' section is literally verbatim what he did to Ford (and just wait until they're mentally broken enough to confess their true feelings! Fear and love are basically the same thing!) And in the valentine's section he talks about leaving mice, which again, he did for Ford's birthday, and then when he wasn't happy about that, got him drunk enough to have a good time (implied kinda forcibly? since Ford declined beforehand). Then there's the fact he literally calls Fiddleford a third wheel (also coincidentally after we just learn Fiddleford spent hours on handmade gifts for Ford and forgot to get his wife anything).

And when Ford finally does catch on and things go bad? Bill tries first to talk with Ford through the zombies (to manipulate him, of course, but also Admit it, you'd miss me. I have missed you, and Bill actually smiles.) And then leaves little sticky notes asking nicely to talk. When he finally gets mad enough to escalate, he still does so in a very not-violent-for-Bill-way. Sure, killing Ford wouldn't help him but we know how messed up Bill can get. And yet what does he do? He leaves Ford's body to almost freeze, only to have a warm fire and a love song playing when he wakes up. He causes mild public disturbances and gives him an obnoxious tattoo. When he finally, finally snaps is when we start to see more of the Bill we got in the show when he tortures Ford a bit. But even that is mild?

Like, Bill rearranged a man's face for fun and takes joy in destroying the Nightmare Realm. But after threating Ford he leaves him unharmed. Very mentally scarred, yes, but safe and intact. He even gives him three days to get his life together. And then treats it like a messy breakup when Ford finally breaks free. Hell, it seems like he was more upset about losing Ford than losing the portal.

All this is to say that I think from Bill's point of view he was being genuinely kind to Ford. He gave him gifts, complimented him, and tried to work things out peacefully when Ford started pulling away (again, his very messed up version of peaceful, but the point still stands).

So when they do finally meet again? Bill still offers Ford a spot next to him. Again, I originally thought this was more playing into Ford's ego while taking a cheap shot at him (i.e. you'll fit in great with the freaks!), but by now it's obvious he wants Ford. He's petty and cruel and horribly abusive about it, but in his own twisted way he likes Ford. A lot. Enough to show mercy (or at least not be as violent as he could be) and to try and give him multiple chances to come back, no apology needed!

And the worst part is Bill knows this. Bill's trying to make this relationship work. He feels connected to Ford in a way he quite possibly hasn't felt with anyone else. And he knows its doomed to fail. In his mind he has to destroy everything he touches and everything he cares about. Any other connections he has are either superficial or dead to him (usually literally). This relationship will end the same way, it's just in Bill's nature. To him, that's all his relationships are capable of being.

All this just makes me sad and adds so much depth and I'm obsessed. There's just something about self-destructive and truly cruel characters having moments where they wish they weren't that way. Where they'll come the closest they ever can to apologizing for how they are.

(Also Bill literally wanted Ford to get a tattoo saying 'If lost return to Bill' like we cannot just ignore that oh my god)

#gravity falls #book of bill #book of bill spoilers #billford #like yeah it's a horribly toxic relationship that should not exist but I think Bill was actually trying the best he could #and that just hurts :(

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mariabtsos · 5 months ago

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Nuts - ||k.nj||

Description: how had Namjoon ended up in this situation? What do you mean he had to actually make a connection instead of fucking your brains out?

Genre: Oneshot, Non-idol AU, Rapper!Namjoon x Makeup Artist f!reader, strangers-to-lovers, Too Hot To Handle inspired, SMUT SMUT SMUT!! Hopeful ending.

Warnings: Namjoon is a bit of a player and full of himself, just smut overall with a hopefully balanced plot, eventually he’ll get back in touch with his feelings, this might be the longest oneshot I've written? Oral sex f receiving, fingering f receiving, grinding, slight exhibitionism.

Word Count: 8.5k+

Namjoon thought himself a reasonable person, horny, but reasonable. He never needed to go to extremes to get what he wanted, whether it be an artist he liked to feature on a song, or fuck the sexy girl that kept bringing champagne over to his table at club. She was leaning against the wall of some small maintenance closet, her back was arched as he pounded into her relentlessly.

Once they finished, he could tell she would want more, doing a not so subtle attempt at slipping her phone number into Namjoon’s back pocket. He smirked and walked out after fixing himself up, knowing full well this would be the last time he’d see her, Namjoon never came back for seconds once he had them. It was nothing against the women he slept with, he didn’t used to be this way, but a few instances of heartbreak and a toxic cycle of make up sex can lead one to denounce love all together and give into pure carnal desire.

Such was Namjoon’s case.

When he arrived at his table he noticed his manager, Jin, and his two best friends, Hoseok and Yoongi, did not receive him with the usual knowing smiles, granted, this time he hadn’t waited long to ditch them for some pussy. Namjoon usually gave it about an hour or two into an outing before temporarily or permanently leaving his friends, but he supposed tonight he really needed a quick fix.

“Why do y’all look like you’re mad at me?” he asked, taking a seat and picking at the chips and salsa that had been placed at the center of their table.

The VIP section of the club was nice, it had a great mix of different low and high-grade celebrities, Namjoon liked to think he was making his way up from the low end of the spectrum, now that he’d been picked up a small label and his mixtape would go from SoundCloud to mainstream platforms.

“We’ve barely been here for half an hour, Namjoon-ah,” Jin complained, holding the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb, Namjoon just continued to stare at him confused. “Well, it’s not my fault, every time she was serving us drinks her tits were right there, and I don’t know if you noticed but they were beautifully proportioned,” he smiled cheekily.

His friends didn’t reciprocate it.

“The label signed you up for a reality show,” Jin stated bluntly, Namjoon almost thought he heard a record scratch, “why?”

“They think it’s good exposure for you,” the older shrugged, “plus it’s like a retreat, you get to stay in a villa with other people and you play games through the summer to win a cash prize.”

“Will I get to keep the cash prize when I win?” he asked, Yoongi and Hoseok sharing a look of annoyance at their friend’s cockiness.

Namjoon had never really been the cocky type, but once his mixtapes and albums started getting hundreds of thousands of streams, and girls seemed to follow him like bees in search of honey, he’d seemed to have his feet a little too far off the ground, and it got worse once he was signed to the label.

“The label is considering it if you create enough buzz around yourself.”

“Well then, I guess I have my work cut out for me,” he smiled, dimples on full display.

You kept refreshing your email every minute, you needed this opportunity, you needed this. It had been your dream since becoming a makeup artist to open your own salon. You were tired of taking clients in the small living room of your studio apartment.

You had been looking for an investor for months when you finally found one that had been interested in your business. He had arranged an interview with you and had asked for a portfolio of your work, just to see what you offered would be worth what you were asking, everything in the interview suggested it was. You were told to wait about a week for them to get back to you, and now that it had been a couple days after the week mark you were starting to get nervous.

The notification sound of a new email made your heart start to race.

From: Hwang Jongdae

Subject: Investment on 2!3! Beauty Salon

Good morning, miss Yn,

After careful consideration of your proposal, we have unfortunately decided that we will not move forward…

You didn’t need to read the rest of the lengthy email, you slammed your laptop shut, immediately reaching for your phone to call your sister, tears inevitably escaped your eyes as soon as she picked up your call.

“Ynie what’s wrong?” She asked, her face showing immediate concern. You explained the situation to her through sobs and snot.

“I don’t know what to do!”

“You could come out with me and Danbi, we are going to the club tonight, maybe you’ll find some rich drunk guy that will invest in your salon.”

You were apprehensive at first, but in the end here you were, in the middle of a night club making somewhat conversation with some guy who’d long taken off his suit jacket and tie, you weren’t planning on anything, you just wanted to someone to converse with since your sister and her girlfriend had ditched you to go dancing.

It wasn’t your fault you had ended up outside making out. You were just sad and needed some cheering up, making out with a stranger sounded like a quick fix, and maybe you’d get a room somewhere and you could enjoy the brief happiness that came with having a one night stand

“Well, I think, your story could make for great reality TV,” his speech was slightly slurred as he pulled away, a sign that the glass he was somehow still holding was definitely not one of the first ones he’d had tonight, “I’m casting this…um…competition show, you get to spend the summer in a pretty villa with pretty people and play games, you can win a SHIT load of money,” he kept leaning toward you, you had to hold back the urge to puke as his breath reeked of alcohol.

You were interested as soon as he mentioned money, you didn’t care what kind of competition it was, you would do anything to make your dream into reality, even if it meant participating in some stupid TV show and dealing with dumb people.

Namjoon was a bit upset about giving up his phone the night before their first day of shooting, but this retreat was meant to be a place where he could disconnect entirely. Which wasn’t an entirely bad idea, the past few weeks was mainly a lot of paperwork and filming his intro for the show, apparently, he’d be the “first to arrive.”

He was happy to see champagne set up on a hightop table, he served himself a glass and waited, other guys started showing up, and then the girls started showing up as well, and to say he was pleasantly surprised was an understatement, all the women were beautiful and when you walked in?

Namjoon quickly knew that you'd be his target.

He was immediately attracted to you, for a moment he really thought that whoever was up there, if there was anyone, must've put you right there, you were exactly the type he went for when he looked for a quick lay. You were wearing a full body bathing suit, given that the villa was at a beachfront, like shows like these often were. Your hair was down in what he assumed was its natural form, and your make up accentuated your face's features beautifully.

The rest of the girls immediately went to greet you, while the men just stared and spoke amongst themselves about who they liked, it was mostly varied answers. The six girls were the stereotypical body type you’d see in shows like these, although some were definitely on the curvier side, all from different places, the guys were pretty much the same, all well built and mouth-watering.

“Okay so to catch you up to speed…um” one of the girls spoke.

“Yn”

“Right, we have all been scanning the boys and let me tell you, it’s going to be a bloodbath,” she chuckled, as did all the others. She introduced herself as Andrea, and the other girls introduced themselves shortly after.

They walked you over to where the high-tops were, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t notice the way the beautiful dragon-eyed man was devouring you with his gaze, and regardless of your small cover-up skirt and your full body bathing suit, you felt very much naked and aroused. If his gaze alone could do that, what could he do to you?. You had no time to calm your racing heart as he approached, his tall frame towered over you.

“Hey,” his voice sounded like honey, “my name is Namjoon, what’s yours?” he wasn’t subtle at all with the way his eyes trailed up and down your body.

“Yn,” you held your hand out to him “nice to meet you Namjoon,” he took it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips to kiss, you quickly took your hand away.

“What, you don’t like chivalry?”

“You don’t seem like the type to do it genuinely,” you admitted.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”

Your neck was hurting badly, you didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to you, making his stature much more than what you had initially suspected. Namjoon enjoyed the vertical advantage, as it gave him a perfect view to your tits, so beautiful and round, he could feel himself slowly harden, he was ready to tell you to come with him to one of the rooms so you could act upon it, when the host of the show finally showed up.

“Hello guys!” he was a beautiful man as well, did this show only look for good looking people? The producer you’d met said you’d be with pretty people, but this was another level, what a major boost to your ego. “I’m Taehyung, welcome Games in Paradise!” Everyone cheered and clapped as the host gave a pretty boxy smile, “you’ll spend the rest of your summer here, where if you succeed with our challenges, you will win a fantastic prize! Your first challenge will be announced later on by the beach, please explore your home for the next two months and enjoy!” Cheers erupted from the small group again, and everyone dispersed after Taehyung walked away.

And explore you did, the villa was huge, it came fully equipped with everything one could only dream of having. The kitchen was fully stocked with a bunch of fancy appliances for your convenience, the bathrooms were gorgeous and came with both a standing shower and a bathtub, the sleeping area had six queen sized beds and nightstands were full of things to make all the sex everyone was planning on having more enjoyable, from condoms to toys, to lube; a few rooms were locked and you weren’t sure why, but no one really cared, considering everyone starting breaking off into duos and small groups to start enjoying their time there.

(T-4 hours)

Andrea, and yourself were enjoying sun-tanning on the lounge chairs right in front of the pool, your cover-ups long gone as your asses in full display as you laid on your stomach. You were reading a book you had picked out of the villa’s small bookcase, while your newly found friend had her eyes closed.

“So, you and Namjoon huh?” she spoke, you looked up to see her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose as she stared at you suggestively. “He’s hot as fuck, anyone here would stupid not to be turned on by his mere sight,” you shrugged.

“The way he was looking at you I thought he was going to fuck you right then and there!” she giggled. You sighed in response and went back to reading your book, mainly to distract yourself from the godly man you’d met, and the many things you wished he’d do to you, so your wetness wouldn’t ruin your favorite swimsuit.

Namjoon was watching you from far away, two of the guys he’d met on either side of him also watching the girls they so badly wanted. Namjoon would enjoy his time here, whether it was with you, or someone who offered to help with his urges sooner. “Okay,” he stood up from his spot, “y’all can enjoy staring and not touching, I’m going in,” he started walking off when he felt a smack in his ass, surely from Jimin, one of the guys he’d been seating with, and his newest friend.

As he walked down to the lounge chairs he noticed someone else taking your friend away, leaving you alone.

Perfect, no interruptions, he thought.

“Hello again,” greeted you once he was close enough to you, he sat down at the spot your friend was previously laying on, his eyes shamelessly enjoying the view of your ass.

“If we still had our phones I’d tell you to take a picture,” you quipped, Namjoon looked back to your face and found you had been staring at him, he flushed slightly at being caught, but got himself together fairly quickly.

“Can you blame me when you have such a wonderful ass?” he chuckled, his dimples in full display which only made him more attractive in your eyes. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was definitely filled with tension, you took off your sunglasses, a small smirk on your face “I bet you’d love to fuck it wouldn’t you?”

Namjoon wasn’t expecting such a bold response. He choked on his own saliva and got into a coughing fit as he heard you cackle loudly. When it finally subsided, he noticed you’d left, leaving a water bottle at his feet and a note on the lounge chair you had been seated on not so long ago.

Meet me in the sleeping area ;)

(T- 30 minutes)

There truly was no way of explaining your current predicament. How had you ended up like this so quickly? It was truly all a blur.

All you knew was that you were straddling Namjoon, dry-humping his erection over his swimming trunks, and making out ferociously.

Namjoon felt his dick getting impossibly stiff as you rubbed your pussy against it, your moans swallowed by his lips as he put his tongue down your throat. He played with your tits, massaging one of the mounds with one hand and holding your ass with another. “Can I pull down the straps?” he groaned as you moved to kiss him behind his ear and down his sharp jawline; you managed to muster a pathetic ‘mmhmm’ and you felt your nipples brushing against his chest and then being pinched and rolled between Namjoon’s thumb and index finger.

“Your body is so gorgeous,” he complimented before putting the breast he was playing with in his mouth, making you arch your back and moan as he sucked and licked it to his heart’s content. When he released your breast from his mouth he slowly dragged his hand down to your core, expertly moving your swimsuit aside and using his thumb to rub your already sensitive bundle of nerves, “fuck!” you moaned, he then moved his hand so that his thumb continued to rub your clit as he inserted his finger inside of you, “so wet for me,” he added another, “so tight,” and another “can’t wait to fuck this slick, tight pussy until you can’t walk” his fingers curved deliciously against your walls and you could feel the coil of pleasure tightening inside you.

“Take off your pants,” you managed to plead.

“Hmm?”

“Take off your pants, please, I want to rid-”

“Hello,” a robotic voice interrupted your pleas, scaring you so badly you almost ended up falling off of Namjoons lap. He gently took his fingers out of you and fixed up your swimsuit just in case someone was about to walk in. “Who the fuck is there?!” Namjoon asked sternly, carefully moving you off his lap.

“My name is Lana,” that’s when you finally noticed the small cone on top of a decorative table. “I hope you are enjoying the retreat, please head down to the palapa, it should be next to the place you arrived at today.”

You and Namjoon stared at each other, having a mental conversation on whether you actually wanted to or not, ultimately going back to making out. Namjoon wanted you so badly, and the stupid Lana robot had definitely not made him any harder, but he was sure he’d be back to it once you guys got back in the mood.

“Hurry up, lovebirds.” Lana’s robotic timbre interrupted them yet again, making you fall backwards on the bed “ugh!” You complained, “Let’s go before she becomes more of a buzz kill.”

You sat next to Namjoon, his arm was around your shoulders. You saw Andrea sitting among some of the girls, one of them in particular, Jihee you thought was her name, was throwing daggers at you with her eyes. All you could do was give her a tight-lipped smile, looking away from her as the small cone that had scared you earlier slowly rose up on a platform in the middle of the table.

“Hello, contestants,” her multicolored light blinked as she spoke, “I have gathered information during this first day of the retreat.” Everyone looked at each other, in a very ‘what the fuck’ kind of way because up until she spoke, you had thought her to be a very fancy diffuser, “it has been most insightful.”

“What the fuck does she mean?” Andrea spoke up.

“The purpose of the retreat is to have you create deep, meaningful, emotional connections, instead of the meaningless flings you’ve all been having.”

“So… have platonic relationships with women?” Jimin looked confused, he didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

“To incentivize you not to do this, I have set the prize money to one-hundred thousand dollars.”

‘Oh my god’s’ were spread out through the group, as they all talked about what that amount of money could do for them, you opened up to Namjoon and Andrea who were the people sitting closest to you, “that money could definitely get me my salon!”

“You’re a hairdresser?” Andrea asked.

“Makeup artist, but I’m planning on having a full service salon,” you smiled sweetly, Namjoon found the sparkle in your eye somewhat endearing when you talked about your dream, but, he couldn’t let himself dwell on it for long, he wanted a good lay, not a deep connection, deep connections had only caused him pain.

“However,” Lana interrupted the group’s chatter, “there are conditions to your stay in order to win the prize,” you hoped the collective complaint wasn’t missed on the small cone, although you were sure it was, it was a robot after all.

“There will be no kissing.”

Your eyes widened, as did most of the groups. “Well, she only said kissing right?” Jihee said.

“No heavy petting.”

“This is fucking stupid,” Daniel, one of the guys Namjoon had been hanging out with spoke.

“No sex of any kind, this includes self-gratification,” the chorus of what’s and no’s that broke out from the group were immediate, and you felt regretful, if you had cut to the chase sooner you could’ve gotten a really good dicking from Namjoon, and now you were all going to be blue balled.

Or were you?

(Day 2)

You woke up the next morning comfy, you and Namjoon decided you would share a bed, and his muscular arms held you tightly, and you felt protected in a way. You hadn’t been one for cuddling in a long time, not since your last relationship almost 4 years ago. It had ended quite tumultuously, especially due to its toxic and suffocating nature. It was mainly why you had one night stands, you didn’t have to cuddle if you didn’t want to, you could just leave right after.

You also didn’t miss Namjoon’s morning wood against your ass, no one was awake yet aside from you, so you decided to be a little risky and pretend like you were adjusting yourself, only to rub up on Namjoon’s dick some more. His grip tightened at your hips, you felt his breath against your ear as he groaned.

“You better stop that, or I’ll fuck you just like this,” he whispered, you could feel yourself getting slick at his words, how badly you wanted him follow through. “Don’t you want the money?” you whispered back, doing your best to hold your moans as he grinded against your ass, “Lana is a dumb fucking robot, how will she know?”

Fuck it.

That’s how you ended up with your shorts and underwear halfway down your legs, and with Namjoon’s fingers deep in your pussy, just like last night. You were biting your pillow and doing your best to hold back your moans. “You ready for me baby?”

Best you could do was reach back and touch him, you wanted to keep quiet just in case someone heard you. He slowly teased your entrance with the tip of his cock, you had yet to see it but when it breached you, you could tell he was thick, and as he slowly fed himself into your pussy, it was ten times harder to stay quiet. Yup. He was definitely big.

He fucked you slowly, and he had to hold himself back as well, your pussy felt so good and it almost felt like you sucked him in deeper with every thrust, he wanted to rail you, to make you scream and moan so that everyone knew just how good he fuck you. “You’re taking my cock so well,” he praised you, causing you to clench harder on him, “if you keep doing that I’m going to cum,” you answered, “why don’t you hmm? Maybe I’ll pump full of my cum too, and make you keep it in so no one knows what we did,” he bit your earlobe and you almost moaned out loud. The coil in your stomach snapped, and your back arched from the pleasure the beautiful man behind you was giving you, it wasn’t long before he came as well, and just like he said, you were filled to the brim.

After your morning shower and getting yourself ready, you were out and about with the girls hanging out in the pool, it was a hot, sunny day, and you were having fun hanging out with the gals.

“Were you okay this morning, Yn? I thought I kept hearing moan?” Jihee asked, making the rest of the girls turn to you. You and Namjoon had agreed to not tell anyone about your little escapade this morning. “I was having a really bad nightmare, I’m sorry,” you smiled apologetically.

Jihee didn’t seem to believe you, meanwhile the other girls rushed to ensure you were okay, they kept asking what your nightmare was about, thankfully, before the show you’d have a really bad one, so you used that one for your story, they didn’t know it wasn’t recent. However, you didn’t miss the angry looks from Jihee, but you didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as the guys came over to the pool to get you, stating that Lana had called for you all to go to the palapa.

You sat next to Namjoon again, who placed his arm on the armrest behind you. You were staring off, not really setting your eyes on one thing until they landed on his thighs. They were so thick and muscular, you wondered what riding them felt like, perhaps that could be the next thing you and Namjoon sneaked off to do.

“Hello, contestants,” the small cone in the middle of the table spoke, everyone greeted it back. “It has come to my attention someone may have broken the rules,” everyone stared around, except for Namjoon, who was playing with the leftover fabric of the headband you were wearing.

“No one’s done anything Lana,” Jimin stated.

“My cameras picked up movement and audio last night, are you sure?” The girls stared at you so quick you were worried they would break their necks, “Yn? You said you had a bad nightmare last night didn’t you?” Jihee’s voice was laced with cattiness, and you felt a slight tug to your headband.

“My cameras picked Namjoon, speaking also.”

“Her nightmare sounded pretty bad, I was whispering in her ear to calm her down, nothing happened,” the way he lied so effortlessly made you feel weird, and you remembered why you’d been single for so long, you didn’t want to be in another situation where you were gaslighted and lied to.

You were grateful that you had kept your movement so slow and subtle.

“Just a warning, if you are found breaking the rules, depending on what you do, you will lose money.”

All hell broke loose then.

(Day 14)

You had managed to go this far without you or Namjoon making a single sexual move, and it was killing him not being able to plow you like he wanted to. It was good because you weren’t the first to lose the group money, Daniel and Jihee were surprisingly the firsts to do so, Jihee had given head to Daniel twice in one day, losing twelve thousand dollars. Later on, Andrea and Jimin kissed a few times, losing six thousand dollars.

Namjoon thought that building an emotional connection was dumb, he’d done that before, and each time it ended in a heartbreak worse than the last, his most recent relationship being what made him swear off on relationships. The girl he had dated was someone he’d loved, he’d do everything for her, every song was for her, any money made from his music went to both his and her bills, he almost dropped his best friends for her.

And then he found out she’d been cheating on him all along.

It absolutely broke him, he couldn’t understand why he wasn’t good enough, he’d always been a gentleman, he would spoil her, love her, why wasn’t that enough?

He didn’t care anymore, when he had an urge he would go to the clubs, or even after a gig he would pull a fan he found hot and he would fuck them until he was satisfied, leaving shortly after, or if he was craving something more intimate he would cuddle them after for a little while, no deep conversation, no sob stories shared, no number exchange. No strings attached. It was the only way not to get hurt.

You were so nice, such a good fuck. He almost wished you had met a few years before, then again would he have looked your way? He always seemed to be dating women who only wanted him for his money, women who never appreciated the little things. You did. He’d made you coffee this morning, using the keurig in the kitchen because he knew he would burn the villa down if he did it like some of the others were making it. He did it because you had become somewhat friends, sexual tension aside, your conversations were great, even if they were forced at first to distract you both from how badly you wanted the other, maybe he’d leave this with you as a good friend. All the girls cooed at the nice gesture, and Namjoon visibly cringed “it’s just fucking coffee it doesn’t mean anything.”

Oh, how those words hurt you.

You had unfortunately developed a crush for the rapper. He was so incredibly smart, he had such wisdom and insight, and his face card was crazy. You had felt horny the first few days, after your small rendezvous, but that subsided once you had more and more conversations, you really like his brain. However, how you felt didn’t matter, he didn’t want you like that, you were someone he fucked once and that he wants to fuck again, nothing more, nothing less. So, maybe it was a good thing that new players came into the scene.

Lana announced them, and it wasn’t long before you spotted them walking down the beach, two men. Both men were absolutely ripped, one of them had a full sleeve and piercings, making you salivate at the sight, the other didn’t have any tattoos, but he had a somewhat big nose and a beautiful smile. When they arrived they quickly introduced themselves as Christopher and Jungkook. The latter seemed to have immediately set an eye on you as he immediately started conversing with you and tried to get to know you better. You and the others had to explain the rules to the newcomers, they weren’t exactly thrilled, but they got over somewhat quickly.

“Ynie, do you want to go talk somewhere else alone?” the doe-eyed man asked, and how could you say no to that pretty smirk. Namjoon didn’t really like it as he saw you walk away with the younger man.

“You can’t talk to her the way you did this morning and expect her not to move on,” Andrea spoke, Jimin giggled next to her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t care,” he clarified, making your friend roll her eyes.

“Attention, contestants,” Lana’s voice broke through the various conversations, “there will be a special event happening near the garden tomorrow, please go there in the morning.”

“What’s in it for us anyway?” Chris spoke up.

“The person who shows the most progress and success will win a date with a person of their choosing,” now that changes things.

(Day 15)

Without words. That’s what the workshop was called.

Lana had paired all of you up, and you had ended up being paired with Jungkook, whilst Namjoon was paired with Jihee. Namjoon wasn’t one to be possessive of the people he fucked, but it wasn’t that he fucked you before, you were his friend, and Jungkook seemed like he was up to no good, what with the big deceitful doe eyes.

You were excited though, it was a fresh start for you, maybe Jungkook will be able to give you that deep emotional connection you were supposed to look for. You hadn’t wanted it at first, but your growing feelings for Namjoon along with all the workshops you had done so far helped you realize that. This one in particular had two stages, the first one was picking up on your partner’s body language. You had to go for a hug with Jungkook showing a specific emotion, and he would have to guess it later, that emotion was excitement.

Once Lana gave you the go, you ran toward the pretty man and hopped on him, wrapping your legs around him. He quickly caught you, wrapping one arm around you and using his other hand to hold one of your legs up, you both were so giggly, and everyone in the group could tell you were enjoying each other’s company. Namjoon was hugging Jihee but he wasn’t putting that much effort in it, he was watching you and Jungkook, and the stupid shit eating grin he had whilst you hugged. How badly he wanted to be the one you had your legs wrapped around, he was getting a little upset at how long you were hugging this newcomer for, considering everyone had stopped except for you two.

“We don’t have all day!” Namjoon remarked, his tone was bitter. You didn’t realize you had embraced Jungkook for so long, you had connected a lot during his first day, you talked until the high hours of the night, so you felt good with him, it was easy. You let go and walked back, whispering I’m sorry’s to the group for the hold up. “The next stage is soul gazing, you will stare at your partner in silence, it encourages you to see and connect with your partner on a deeper emotional level,” Lana said.

The silence of everyone was quite comfortable, and watching Jungkook you felt such warmth and kindness emanating from him, and you also saw him tear up a bit. “You have a beautiful soul Ynie,” he admitted, and like the Grinch, you felt your heart grow three sizes from those words. Namjoon, however, was seething, who the hell is guy anyway, why is he making you swoon all the sudden? It was bullshit, absolute bullshit. After the workshop was finally over, Lana announced the winner, you.

“Yn, who do you choose to go on this date with,” the little cone asked, and everyone’s eyes were on you. The expectations were skewed, some were expecting you to pick Namjoon, and some were expecting you to pick Jungkook based on the past two days alone.

“Jungkook,” he had the prettiest smile, “wanna go on this date with me?”

“Yes!” He was very enthusiastic, giving you a quick side hug, the girls rushed to your side to help you get ready.

Namjoon was with the guys as they all watched Jungkook getting ready, he wasn’t very excited about the prospect of you going on a date with someone, he wanted you all for himself to enjoy and he couldn’t have that if you went with Jungkook. He heard Jimin giggling, noticing he’d been staring at him this whole time. “What?”

“Good thing you don’t have laser vision, poor Jungkookie would be dead if you did,” he continued to chuckle.

“I’m not even looking at him.”

“Give me a fucking break hyung, it’s obvious you are jealous of the guy, I mean just today’s workshop alone shows that,” Jimin explained, “if you like Yn you should shoot your shot.”

Did Namjoon like you? I mean he was definitely not repulsed by you, you were a smart, pretty girl. But how would he know you wouldn't use him? Sure you didn't seem like you would but what about when you were out in the real world?

“I'll be back,” Jungkook had a big grin on his face, “wish me luck!”

As Namjoon watched the youngest out of the men walk out, he decided he would get dressed himself, and get his frustration out with the punching bag at their designated workout area. Watching as he met you at the door to the villa. You were wearing a simple gray summer dress and it complimented your skin tone beautifully.

Jungkook was a little confused on why Namjoon was so adamantly upset at him, but he couldn’t worry about him right now, not when he was so excited to see you. You were incredibly nice to him when he arrived, and your conversation had been so wonderful when he’d pulled you aside. You talked about so many things, where you were from, what you did for work, what your goals were.

“I’m a tattoo artist! I’ve drawn most of the pieces I’ve gotten done,” he took off the shirt he was wearing, the white tank top underneath being the only thing keeping you from seeing his abs. His sleeve was beautiful, so incredibly colorful and full of life, he explained most of his tattoos, including the ones that were meant as cover-ups for others. Your eyes got lost in the way his muscles flexed as they trailed up his arm, eventually your gaze ended up meeting his.

He had stars in his eyes, and his smile seemed so incredibly genuine, he cocked his head to the side as he stared at you, “can I ask you something?” you nodded, “do you and Namjoon hyung have something going on? I don’t want to move forward with pursuing you if you are not available,” the question left you a bit stunned and you thought it through before deciding to trust Jungkook with the truth.

“We’ve had some serious sexual tension since we got here,” you admitted, “no one knows this but we actually fucked on our second night here,” the pretty man in front of you deflated a bit, and then it seemed to hit him, “so, not even the weird cone thing knows?”

“I mean she probably knows now,” you chuckled humorlessly. “Anyway, after that we agreed not to tell anyone, and we started building a friendship, I started sort of catching feelings, and I thought he was too, he would do little nice things for me, and then say something mean after,” you sighed, “so I’m not sure about him as person.”

Jungkook was a great listener, he stayed quiet and gave you his undivided attention the entire time you were talking, and now he sat pensive, looking up at the stars as he tried to come up with something to tell you, “I think you are really cool, Yn, and I think you deserve someone who will want you in every way, not just because you’re stunning” you blushed slightly at his words, “I would love to get to know you better and explore something with you, but if you want Namjoon that badly, then I don’t want to get hurt, going after girls who are emotionally unavailable or attached to someone else is exactly why I’ve become a man whore.”

You were shocked at his candor and honesty, but it endeared you to him and made you envy him. Why couldn’t you have your shit together? Why were your boundaries so unclear? Worst of all, a pretty guy who had treated you with nothing but respect wanted you… but your feelings for Namjoon were more, from the small coffee offering to conversations he would have with you about books you both had read, to deep conversations about each other’s life.

“You are a good person Jungkook.”

“But I’m not the kind of person you want.” You gave him a saddened smile, “I’m fine with being your friend Ynie, you are a good person too, and in time Namjoon will realize it too,” the night continued on with so much laughter, Jungkook felt like a long lost friend, and you were happy that life had brought him to you.

Namjoon was not happy. The people in the villa watched as he beat the absolute shit out of the punching bag in front of him, his jaw was clenched, and his mind was playing all the possibilities of what may happen on your date with Jungkook.

Did you do any of the things you'd done with him? Did you kiss him? Did you like him? Will you come back with a stronger connection and leave him to rot?

If you did he wouldn't blame you, he deserves every one of those things, especially after the way he'd treated you, all hot and cold. It truly isn't his fault, so many strings of wrong relationships, with the last one being a constant cycle of toxicity and gaslighting, which Namjoon can now admit he was a part of. Him and his last partner weren't good for each other, but they loved each other so intensely they didn't want to let go.

Love hard, hurt harder, you know?

He heard your unmistakable laughter along with his, and he started punching his bag harder. How long had he been standing here punching this poor bag? He didn't care, currently he was imagining Jungkook’s head on a stake.

“Namjoon?” Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, he turned his gaze toward, whilst still in a punching stance, “can we talk?” Namjoon straightened up at that. He kinda liked the way you were checking how sweaty his body was, he didn't like your sudden frown however.

“Your knuckles are bleeding.”

Were they? Surely he wasn't punching the bag that long that hard. But when he pulled up his hands to look at the damage he couldn't help but cackle.

“I guess they are.”

“Why don't you go take care of them and then we can talk, hmm?” You gave him a tight, close-lipped smile.

Fuck no.

There was no way he was letting you leave after you were the reason he'd been punching this bag, not when he'd spent the last however long wondering, overthinking, what you and Jungkook would possibly be doing. There was simply no way. It was almost a reflex the way his hand wrapped around your wrist, you barely had time to look at him before he pulled you away to a secluded corner of the villa, cornering you against the wall with both of his arms caging you in, droplets of sweat all over his body.

It was crazy, the way your body seemed to respond so quickly to him, he heard the small whimper, and saw how you put your legs together, and fuck sake the way you were looking at him was like you were begging him to…

He wanted to do this right though. He moved away slightly, giving you some space to breathe, “what'd you wanna talk about Yn?”

“My date with Jungkook went well,” okay maybe not what he was expecting.

“Good for you?”

“I think we'll be great friends, him and I,” Namjoon suddenly felt himself taking a deep breath of relief. “Really?” The space he'd given you was gone again.

He hoped you could see just how affected he also was by you, how his own dick was stirring, having your body so close, having you so close. You must’ve sat there staring at each other for a few minutes, Namjoon’s gaze going back and forth between your lips and your eyes, there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do to you, with you. He leaned in slowly, your height difference making him bend down slightly, your eyes fluttered shut and he stopped just close enough that your noses were brushing together, you were so beautiful. Before you could ask him what was taking him so long he connected your lips in a delicious, passionate kiss, your tongues explored each other’s mouths and your hands held onto his shoulders.

Namjoon was the first to pull away, only to move his kisses down to your jaw and eventually your neck, causing you to let out little moans, they were the prettiest sound to Namjoon. He found himself reaching for the shorts you had worn under your gray dress, “may I take these off?” he asked, his eyes hooded and filled with want, all you could do was let out a pathetically high-pitched ‘yes’. He hooked his thumbs at the waistband, dragging your underwear down with it, he watched them pool at your feet and then knelt down, “is this okay?” you felt his breath against your center, making you squirm slightly.

“Yes.”

He dove right in, licking the length of your slit, groaning at how aroused you were and he had barely done anything to you. He moved on to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucking gently, causing your moans to become slightly louder, “you gotta keep quiet for me baby,” he instructed you when he briefly pulled away to catch his breath, the sight of the lower half of his face glistening with your wetness making you almost want to orgasm right then. He started eating you out again, this time adding his fingers to the mix, and you had to cover your mouth to make sure your moans wouldn’t be heard all over the villa. You felt yourself closer and closer to your climax and Namjoon could too, your walls squeezed his fingers tightly almost as if wanting to keep them prisoner, and he wanted nothing more than to replace them with his cock, especially because it was so painfully hard. You wanted that too, you wanted nothing more than for this to go all the way, but you felt that in order for what you wanted to work, things had to be different.

“Namjoon, stop” he immediately moved away from you, gently removing his fingers. You took a moment to catch your breath, as he slowly pulled up your shorts and underwear and fixed your dress for you, “did I hurt you?” he asked, holding your hips, looking genuinely concerned at your sudden request. He had an almost boyish charm when this side of him was shown to you, so sweet, so gentleman-like, why would he not be like this always?

“No, I just,” you sighed, putting your hands on his chest, “I like you Namjoon, I would like for us to try and get to know each other, for us to get the chance to see if this could go anywhere, but I’m not sure if that’s what you want, and I need to know, because I don’t want to be pining for someone that just wants me for sex.”

Your confession surprised him, he hadn’t thought that all your conversations and your sexual tension would lead to anything more than maybe a friends with benefits kind of situation. However, considering how he's been reacting to the possibility of you and Jungkook together, maybe he did want to explore more.

“I'd love to get to know you more Ynie,” he flashed his dimpled smile at you, and you felt your heart fluttering. Jumping into his arms for a hug in which Namjoon made sure to hold you extra tight. Maybe this was the beginning of his healing.

(Day 27)

The rest of the stay at the villa was great for you two, Namjoon was so very thoughtful, he made you fresh coffee every morning, and you guys had a reading date every afternoon, where you shared the big love seat by the pool, laying back on his chest as he held whatever book you were reading in front of both of you.

People weren't too happy once Lana deducted the money for your offense after your date with Jungkook, and they were even more distraught when they found out what shenanigans you'd been up to on your second night there, you had lost them so much money the price money was down to forty-five thousand dollars. Jihee almost jumped you, thankfully Jungkook was there to hold her back. Speaking of, you ended up having another girl show up, a sweet blonde named Maddie who immediately caught Jungkook’s attention. It was great seeing your friend happy. You guys would have chats by the pool when you got a chance and update each other on the happenings of your relationships.

Lana had also been a bit more liberal by giving you all bracelets, when they lit up you’d be allowed to kiss the other person, this would only happen if your emotional connection had been proven to strong and genuine.

Although you and Namjoon were still very much in the eyes of everyone, “getting to know each other,” that would all change three days before you left the villa. You honestly had no clue when he had the time, but when Lana announced you were going on a date with Namjoon, everyone seemed to be beaming at the idea. He told you to dress nice. So you opted for a two-piece white set, with a loose halter top, white loose shorts, and wedges. Turns out you were going on a boat ride.

“Oh my god Joon,” you beamed as he helped you sit down at the front of the boat, where an assortment of sushi was waiting for you. You sailed along, enjoying the sun on your skin, and the beautiful man that kept feeding you sushi, especially since even if he tried to show you how to use chopsticks you still couldn’t keep the sushi in your grasp for long. You talked some more about life, and you ended up opening up to one another.

“My last relationship was like, three years ago,” he started, “she basically only wanted me for my money, but I didn’t really notice, I just wanted to love and be loved, and I thought that I was being good, I spoiled her, gave her everything and she still cheated on me, so I swore off relationships and became a man-whore,” he chuckled bitterly. “My last relationship was four years ago, it was very toxic, he basically made me feel bad for not always wanting to be on his dick, or because I spent time with my friends and not him, he went around telling everyone our business but always left out how awful he was to me.” You had been staring at the horizon, the sun slowly setting bringing golden hour to you.

“Eventually when we broke up, he tried getting back together with me, and when I said no, he started shit-talking my friends and myself, and all I could do was watch as they got tired of dealing with me and my drama, so now I only had my sister to rely on,” you felt Namjoon’s hand on your cheek, he watched with sorrowful expression, “you were crying.”

“I swore off relationships after that too, I have never felt more alone than during that time, and I didn’t want to feel like that again.”

“I know at first I didn’t do the best job at not making you feel that way, but I hope I can help you feel less lonely,” Namjoon said, still caressing your cheeks, you felt your wrist vibrate, seeing the big green checkmark on your watch, Namjoon had the same. You were ready to lean in to kiss him, but he stopped you.

“Before we kiss,” he started, “getting to know you has been amazing, I find myself learning some much about myself and slowly coming back to who I was before all the bullshit. I want us to be real, I want to go back to the real world and make it work with you, would you be my girlfriend Ynie?” Your cheeks hurt from how wide you were smiling, you never really thought of yourself getting back into a relationship, you had sworn you were too damaged for something like that, but maybe this was the start to your healing. “I want to make it work in the real world too, I’d love to be your girlfriend,” his dimpled smile gave you butterflies, and as his other hand reached your cheek to fully cup your face, he closed the space between you with a kiss that had been different from the ones before, the others were hungry, desperate, and horny, this one was slow, passionate, and breath-taking. You felt your wrist vibrate again, making you pull away much to your dismay.

“I’m excited for the outside world together,” his gaze was sweet and soft, something you had never seen. He laid back, opening his arms up so you could cuddle.

“Me too,” you smiled, quickly moving your picnic stuff out of the way and scooting over, you laid your head on his chest, you heard his heart beating so fast and so loud, “your heart is about to beat out of your chest,” you giggled.

“I was so fucking nervous,” you looked up at him, “but I am happy I think, hopefully we’ll make it through.”

Fingers crossed.

#bts fanfic #bts #bts au #kim namjoon #namjoon au #namjoon x reader #bts smut #namjoon smut

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hyunsvngs · 1 year ago

Text

𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 - lee minho x gn!afab reader

wc: 6.1k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: alcohol, normalisation of getting very wasted, smut (specific smut warnings under the cut, again minors please do not interact!)

synopsis: the best surprises come from the most unexpected sources - like having your crush corner you in a frat party after hearing you confess your deepest desires of him in the background of a video.

a/n: part one of the fratboy series. fratboy lee minho has now taken over my entire brain, my heart, and also my life, so i hope you all enjoy. PLEASE feel free to stop by our askbox to chat to me abt him because truly, i am obsessed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: swearing, dirty talk, sexy mean minho, no seriously he’s mean, thigh riding, nipple play, begging, dumbification, degradation, penetration with a finger & dick simultaneously, talks about sex slaves (maybe only slightly serious), lovely aftercare

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

When the opening notes of Half Moon by Dean met your ears, you couldn’t help but groan. You loved the song, but it signalled an incoming call that you’d been expecting all day. You flipped your phone over, confirming your suspicions; Jisung’s squishy cheeks flashed on your screen as his contact icon showed up.

“What do you want?” you asked as you answered the call, despite knowing very well what he wanted.

At the beginning of the semester, your best friends had joined a fraternity, Sigma Kappa Zeta. It was an absolute dream - on paper at least. You didn’t have to commit to the endless fraternity obligations, which are often ridiculous and sometimes downright dangerous; although you still had regular invites to the blowout parties, owing to your connections to Felix and Jisung. You’d attended a few of these parties and enjoyed them thoroughly. Being pretty meant you got free booze, and what could be better than getting wasted for free, with two of your favourite people? While ogling their endless hoard of stupidly attractive friends, of course.

Your taste in men could be summarised as… unfortunate. You had an affinity for frat boys, the bigger and stupider the better. Muscular guys, with stupid goofy grins and sleeveless tees, bulging biceps and empty heads. Something about them really got you going, and it frustrated you to no end. But you loved to indulge yourself, and Felix and Jisung knew this all too well. And so, they were left baffled when you very quickly stopped attending these parties. Baffled, disappointed, and worst of all, persistent.

“Hey, angel,” Felix’s voice rang out from your speaker.

“You aren’t Jisung,” you stated.

“Very observant,” he responded, leading you to roll your eyes. You didn't even bother to question why he was calling you from Jisung’s phone. “Anyways, I assume you’ll be in attendance tonight?”

You snorted. “Obviously not.”

“Y/N!” Felix’s deep voice gave way to a drawn-out whine. “Why not?”

“Cause I don’t want to spend time in your disgusting frat house,” you huffed.

“Not even for me?” he pleaded with you.

“This isn’t working. You can’t guilt-trip me when I can’t actually see your stupid adorable face,” you pointed out.

“Fine, I’ll turn my camera on-”

“No. Look, why don’t you and Ji come drink with me in my dorm? Like the good ol’ days?” you suggested. Good ol’ days referring to a few months ago, before they’d joined the fraternity.

Felix paused for a few moments. “Fine. Maybe. Only because we miss you!”

“Come over then. See you soon!” You hung up before he could argue any more - you all knew you’d won.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Just moments after Jisung and Felix showed up at your door, you began to consider the possibility that maybe you didn’t win after all.

“Y/N!” Jisung cried, before proceeding to push past you and collapse onto your bed. “Why do you never hang out with us any more?!”

You turned to Felix. “What have you brought to my doorstep?”

Felix shrugged. “He chugged like, three beers before we even left.”

"I guess we'd better catch up then."

It wasn't long before you were all feeling merry, though it would be amiss to say you'd caught up with Jisung, given that he often seemed intoxicated even when he was sober.

"I miss you guys, too!" you insisted, hushing the boys' griping. And you really did miss them. Since classes had ended, and people had limited obligations, the frat seemed like a 24/7 party house at the moment, which meant you hardly ever saw them. "I just… these frat parties, it's not really my scene."

The look Felix sent you told you that he didn't buy it, not one bit. The look Jisung sent you, on the other hand, told you that he was currently so drunk that he had a very tenuous grasp on reality, and was just happy to be involved.

"I've seen you eye up at least three guys at the frat. Not your scene? Nothing has ever been more your scene," Felix said, his tone accusatory. "I know it's nothing to do with us. So spill. Why are you avoiding the frat?"

Jisung had wandered off to the other side of your room, where he seemed to be making a concoction of different beverages. He didn't seem to be making a mess, so you thought it best to leave him while he was quiet.

You huffed. "Fine. One of your stupid little frat bro's is driving me insane. But I won't say who!" you added hastily.

Felix's eyes glinted. "Driving you insane? In what way? Like, someone's pissed you off? Or they're making you insanely horny and you don't know how to handle it."

You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "You know me too well, Lix."

Felix laughed gleefully. "Changbin?"

"Don't start guessing! I'm not gonna tell you!"

"Chan?"

"No!"

Felix paused, thinking hard. "It's Minho."

"It’s not Minho!"

He cackled. "You're an open book, it's Minho! You're horny for Minho!"

You let out a weak whimper in protest. "I just… God, nobody's ever affected me like this before, Lix! I don't even wanna be around him 'cause I know I'll say something stupid. Or maybe just start drooling on him."

Felix shrugged. "I guess I can't blame you. He is a gorgeous guy."

"Understatement of the century," you scoffed. "If I had to choose between solving world hunger and sucking his dick, I'd choose his dick. A thousand times."

Felix, in that beautiful drunken phase where everything was utterly hilarious, was clutching his stomach, in complete stitches on your floor.

"I'm not even joking, Lix! I'd devote the rest of my life to being his sex slave. He wouldn't even need to feed me, I'll survive off his cum if I have to!"

Felix wiped a tear from his eye. "Stop, stop. You're killing me." He turned to Jisung, who was still apparently playing potions with various different drinks.

"And that," Jisung said to no one in particular, "Is how you make a Hanji Supreme."

"What the fuck are you doing, Ji? Are you vlogging over there? Get your ass over here and listen to what Y/N has to say about Lee Minho."

"Okay, bye!" Jisung said, still seemingly speaking to thin air. He turned to you, eyebrows raised. "Minho? Y/N has the hots for Minho?"

"Unfortunately," you confirmed.

"We could probably set you up with him," Jisung proposed, a dastardly grin on his face.

"No," you quickly denied. "Never. Under no circumstances do you ever mention my name in Minho's presence. Got it?"

Jisung pouted. "But then your dreams are never gonna come true!"

You chewed on your lip. "I feel like a stuttering mess whenever I even think about him. I can't imagine what'd happen if I actually spoke to him."

"Wait, you've never spoken to him?" Felix clarified, and you shook your head. He smirked. "You were saying some pretty vulgar stuff, considering he's practically a stranger."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm a creep and a perv. That's why he can never find out about this. Seriously," you said sternly, directing this last part at Jisung. He wasn't exactly known for keeping secrets.

Felix looked him up and down. "I don't think he's even going to remember this tomorrow, if I'm being honest."

"Yeah," you agreed. "He seems like he's done for the night." The boy was lying flat on his back, the brim of his beanie pulled over his eyes. His phone was buzzing away on his chest, notification tone pinging every few seconds.

Felix sighed. "I just hope he doesn't get one of those second winds."

“Jisung, honey, is someone trying to get hold of you?” you asked, the chiming of his phone growing irritating. You figured he’d texted one of his many booty calls and then instantly forgotten about it.

“Huh?” he asked, clearly not really listening.

Felix’s phone began to buzz on the floor. “Someone’s trying to get hold of me.” He brought the phone to his ear. "Hey, what’s up? He's - he's what?" Felix covered his other ear. "It's really loud over there, did you say he's on the table? Christ - okay, okay, we'll be right over."

"What was that?" you asked. "Is everything okay?"

Felix sighed. "Hyunjin's partying a little too hard. Seungmin can't deal with him alone. C'mon, we gotta go wrangle him."

"We just went over this - I'm not stepping foot in Minho's territory, not even for a second," you said adamantly.

"Relax, he's partying with Theta Chi Theta tonight," Jisung slurred happily, sitting upright and fixing his beanie. "C'mon, Y/N, come party with us!"

Felix looked to you pleadingly. "I can't deal with drunk Jisung and drunk Hyunjin without you. Please."

Fuck. Felix knew you could never say no to his puppy-dog eyes.

"Fine."

Even with the knowledge that Minho was preoccupied somewhere else, you still felt a little wary as you stepped into the house. It did occur to you that you could be a little too terrified of this man, but you knew all too well that both your horniness and your stupidity were utterly limitless, which was always a recipe for disaster.

You heard Hyunjin before you saw him - "Why can't I get naked, though? It's so hot in here!"

You snickered. He was still on the table, although he looked a little wobbly so you doubted it'd be too long until he came tumbling down. Jisung wandered off, probably up to no good, whilst you and Felix hurried over.

Seungmin breathed a visible sigh of relief when he saw you. "So glad you're here. Okay, I'm off duty. Good luck." He had vanished within seconds.

Hyunjin waved excitedly when he caught sight of you both. "Hi Lix! Hi Lix's pretty friend!"

You laughed at his drunken boldness. "It's Y/N," you corrected him.

"I know." He grinned down at you from the table, eyes disappearing into crescents. "You're brave, too," he crooned.

"Brave?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"If I was you, I probably wouldn't show my face around here until the end of the semester, at least," he went on.

Felix narrowed his eyes at the boy. "What are you talking about?"

Hyunjin stared at Felix for a moment. Then switched his gaze to you. Then back to Felix. Before erupting into a fit of giggles.

"Oh my god, please sit down before you fall and crack your damn skull," Felix pleaded with the boy.

"Yeah, and more importantly, explain yourself," you added.

Hyunjin sat obediently, pulling out his phone and handing it to Felix.

"Oh fuck," Felix breathed. "I have the group chat muted right now."

"The group chat?" you enquired anxiously. "Please tell me what's going on." Your paranoia was getting the best of you, and while you stood waiting for someone to fucking explain, you were slowly convincing yourself that you'd stolen Felix's phone and confessed your attraction to Minho in the most crass and unrefined terms.

This wasn't too far from the truth.

Felix opened up a video, skipping towards the end. You noticed Jisung, sitting cross-legged on the floor of your dorm room, chattering away about various beverages. More prominently, however, you heard your own voice, from the other side of the room.

“I’ll survive off his cum if I have to!”

Your heart plummets to the ground as the memory comes rushing back. Fuck.

You grab Felix’s arm, holding on for dear life. “Tell me this isn’t happening. Tell me Jisung only sent that to Hyunjin and no one else.”

Felix handed the phone back to Hyunjin and placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you. “Look, it’s going to be okay. People say stupid shit like this all the time-”

“Oh look, Minho’s read the messages!” Hyunjin calls out.

You put a hand over your mouth. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“He’s typing!”

“No!” you wailed.

Hyunjin turned his phone around once more. You peered at the screen in turmoil as three dastardly little letters popped up.

lol

"Oh, Y/N, you're so lucky he's not here tonight," Felix said, sounding relieved. Distantly, you felt a shred of relief too, although that was nothing compared to the complete and utter dread you were experiencing. Oh, the consequences of your own drunken, horny actions. Was there anything worse?

"Oh," Felix murmured, pulling his buzzing phone out of his pocket. "Oh."

"What?" you asked.

"He's calling me."

You called out "Don't answer it!" just as Hyunjin yelled "Answer it!"

Felix accepted the call, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Oh my god, I'm scared. Hold my hand." You scrambled for Hyunjin, who grasped your hand in his before giggling.

"Your hands are soft," he commented, apparently having forgotten the Minho debacle already. You swiftly hushed him.

Felix also raised a finger to his lips in a shh motion, before putting the call on speakerphone.

"Are you at the house? Is Y/N with you?" Minho’s voice came through the speaker.

Felix paused, looking at you with wide eyes. You shook your head furiously.

"Uh, yeah," he answered, the traitor. You fought hard not to scream.

"Can you pass a message across?" you heard Minho ask.

"Sure."

"I'm on my way." The line clicked dead.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. “LEE FELIX WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TELL HIM I'M HERE?"

"I DON'T KNOW, I PANICKED!" he shrieked back, sounding equally as alarmed as you.

“This is crazy,” Hyunjin commented with a dazed grin.

“You are far too drunk to understand the absolute catastrophe I’m in right now!” you accused him. “Oh my god, what am I gonna do? I need to go - immediately.”

“Not so fast.”

You spun around in complete and utter horror, terrified that Minho had somehow materialised from his other party right back to the frat. Only to find Seungmin standing before you - just slightly less threatening.

“Jisung is far too drunk, and he’s begging for you,” he explained.

“God, what is in the air tonight?” you observed. “Do you guys need to do a fraternity-wide detox?”

Seungmin snorted. “Like that’s ever gonna happen. Go on, Jisung’s in his room.”

God fucking damn it, why were you such a good friend? You tore up the stairs, bee-lining for Jisung’s room, fully intending on hiding in his bedroom for the rest of the night. Minho wouldn’t find you in there if you locked the door, right? You were even willing to put up with your best friend’s snoring.

"Hey, Sungie," you said gently as you walked into his room. You found him curled on his bed, still dressed in his hoodie, cargos and beanie.

"Y/N… You're finally here…" he mumbled.

"You sound sleepy. Is it bedtime?" you asked, sitting down on the bed beside him. You tugged the beanie off his head, and ran your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp gently.

"Bedtime? Hmm… No… It's still party time for now." His words were slurred, and you knew he was just minutes from dozing off - seconds, maybe.

"Sure," you said, as it was typically better to just agree with him. "You wanna get your pyjamas on? We can have a pyjama party."

"No. I'm comfy like this." You seriously doubted it, but didn't have it in you to battle him right now.

Sure enough, he was snoring less than thirty seconds later. You wondered if it was worth shoving him a bit, to climb in bed beside him, or whether it'd be best to just run home. But you didn't know how far away Minho was, and the thought of bumping into him was too much to bear.

You deliberated for a few moments, but Jisung's snoring was driving you insane, and you quickly realised that you weren't equipped to deal with it tonight.

You pulled out your phone, opening Felix's contact.

[10:44pm] You: lixie do u have minho's location?

[10:44pm] You: lix please please please

[10:44pm] You: felix pls i need to know how far he is

You sat on the edge of Jisung's bed, leg bouncing with nerves. Why was Felix always muting his damn notifications?

[10:48pm] Lix: idk sorry :( i think his party was nearby though

[10:48pm] Lix: look, just run to my room

[10:49pm] Lix: you'll be safe there

You weighed up your options.

Option one: stay here with Jisung, awake all night owing to his snoring and his complete domineering of 90% of the bed space, stressing about Lee fucking Minho.

Option two: run out of the frat house, and all the way home to safety, but risk bumping into Minho on your way out.

Option three: run down the hall to Felix's room, where you can vent to him all night and then eventually fall asleep with his sunshine cuddles.

It could only be option three.

His room was just down the hall, you reasoned. You would yank open the door, tear down the hallway, and land safely in Felix's bedroom. It would be easy.

You took a deep breath, before pulling open the door and preparing to run.

“Ah. Look who it is.”

Shit.

Minho stood in the hall with an unreadable expression. His eyes scanned your whole frame, and he took his time with his scalding gaze. His eyes crawled all the way up your legs, lingering up your thighs. Slowly moving from your hips, to your waist, to your chest. Before landing on your eyes - that’s where his inspection burned the most. You couldn’t even breathe.

“All bark and no bite, hm?”

“I… I just…” you stammered weakly.

He continued to stare at you, waiting for you to finish. “You just?”

“I’m sorry!” you managed, your voice barely above a squeak.

He folded his arms across his chest, looking amused. “What, pray tell, are you sorry for? For blabbing about my dick to anyone who’ll listen? Manners mean everything, sweetheart, you could’ve just asked me nicely. There was no reason to bring everyone into our business, now, was there?”

You simply blinked at him. You weren’t capable of anything more. He was clearly waiting for a response, though, smirking over at you expectantly. “W-What?” you managed eventually.

“Or are you apologising for your dirty mouth? Honestly, I didn’t expect that from you. You look so sweet, who knew you could be so… improper.”

You felt dizzy. “Improper?”

He pouted at you, and it was dripping with condescension. “Can you speak, darling? Or are you so cock-hungry you can’t manage more than a one-word answer?”

“I-I just don’t know what to say, is all,” you whispered.

“Just give me a yes or a no,” he invited you, holding his hand out for you to take.

You gave him a slow nod, placing your hand in his shakily. He smiled as if to say ‘right answer,’ before opening the door right next to Jisung's, and leading you into his bedroom. The room was remarkably neat and tidy, and you would’ve been impressed if you could even begin to process it. All of your mental energy was focused on not combusting - or coming on the spot.

He allowed you to step into the room before closing the door behind you. You were then quickly pushed up against it, Minho pinning you against the wood with his hips. Had that squeal really just come from your mouth?

His eyes were transfixed on your lips. You waited, heart hammering in your chest, while he had you trapped there. Until this point, you really hadn't been sure whether he was angry at you for saying such explicit things about him. The look in his eyes revealed everything - he wanted you just as badly.

He leaned in slowly. Torturously slowly - evidently, he was going to take his time with you. His lips met yours in a gentle peck, which he repeated, again and again. You sighed against his lips, gripping the fabric of his t-shirt and pulling him closer, but he merely smirked against your pout.

"Please," you breathed.

"You're so desperate," he said with a low laugh. "I could give you what you want, Y/N, but I know you wouldn't be able to handle it."

"I can take it," you protested, your voice sounding much whinier than you wanted it to.

"You can?" he asked, cocking his head and looking down at you condescendingly. You nodded insistently. "Okay."

Minho picked up the pace. His lips were soft but they bit at yours harshly. His tongue entered your mouth and you savoured his taste, sucking on his tongue gently.

Your hands went to the button of his jeans, swiftly unbuttoning it. Minho pulled away, stepping back and leaving you pouting once more. He laughed, that awful patronising sound yet again, that made your palms sweat and your thighs sticky.

"What, you think you're gonna get my dick that easily?" he asked, cocking his head at you. "No, honey."

"Please?" you asked. It sounded pitiful, even to you.

You watched as he went to his neatly made bed, tugging off jeans and laying back. "Come here," he instructed, lounging back against the wall. "Take your clothes off for me."

"T-Take my clothes off?" you asked meekly. It sounded pitiful even to your ears.

The look he gave you was scathing, although he did seem rather amused by the pathetic show of stupid desperation you were unfortunately displaying. "Well you can't expect to stay fully clothed if I'm gonna fuck you, right?"

You nodded, standing in front of him and looking down at your feet. "I… I feel shy all of a sudden."

"You feel shy? I don't know if you'd make such a good sex slave after all." He laughed before growing serious. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'll look after you, if we do, but the choice is yours."

His kinder tone set you at ease, and made you realise that you really wanted this, you were ready for this. It also brought about the realisation that you much preferred it when he was mean. You didn't want to dwell on what that meant, though.

You gathered your courage and slowly pulled your clothes off, standing before him in nothing but your underwear. Minho said nothing, but you felt as though you were on fire under his gaze.

He wasn't the only one who was enjoying the view. Your eyes traversed his toned thighs, mouth watering as you thought about how it'd feel if he were to press one between your legs. He wore plain white briefs, and you couldn't help but stare at the prominent bulge inside them. Even semi-hard it looked huge. You noticed it twitch ever so slightly, as he looked over your exposed body.

Minho spread his legs slightly, before tapping his left thigh. "Come on, darling. I know what you want."

Was he a mind reader? You wasted no time, climbing onto the bed, straddling his thigh and beginning to slowly grind. He tensed it, so firm and strong beneath you. The perfect platform for you to drag your clit across.

Minho's hands went to your waist, holding you gently, guiding you as you rolled your hips.

"That's it, baby, there you go," he encouraged you. The friction was enough to make you sweat, the pleasure overwhelming you. He was right - maybe you couldn't handle this. You couldn't even imagine how overwhelming it would be to actually feel his hands on you, feel his dick inside you.

His dick.

You could see it growing harder in his briefs, a small damp circle near the head where precum had leaked. You couldn't resist the temptation any longer; your hand reached out almost involuntarily, cupping his bulge gently. It was firm, and warm, and growing bigger seemingly by the second.

Minho took your hand, instantly re-directing it. "No, no, don't touch. Not until I say you can."

"But I can see how hard you're getting," you said. "You want it, Minho!"

"Unlike you, I know how to restrain myself." He patted your waist gently. "Keep riding."

You gave a frustrated huff, but did as he said.

Minho brought a slender finger down to your crotch, hooking it around the fabric of your underwear and moving it out of the way. "Let me see that pretty pussy," he murmured.

The new exposure made you moan aloud, hands gripping Minho's shoulders firmly as you rode him.

"Please," you whispered. "Please, Minho."

"Please, what? Use your words."

"Please fuck me," you asked.

He pretended to consider it for a moment. "Hmm… No. Not yet."

You groaned. "I need it, though!"

Minho snickered. "Don't be such a brat. I want to take my time with you, okay?"

"You can take your time next time! Just - please - fuck, please, I need it."

He raised an eyebrow with you. "Oh, so there's gonna be a next time, is there?"

You ignored his quip. If you couldn't get in his pants just yet, you'd focus your attention elsewhere. You lifted his shirt slowly, revealing his stomach, where you found lightly toned abs that only made you more desperate to feel him. Miraculously, he humoured you, pulling his shirt over his head.

You gasped, running your hands down his chest. He was beautiful, tight pecs and perfect little nipples that stood to attention in the open air of his bedroom. You ghosted a finger over one of them, entranced.

"I thought that'd shut you up," Minho commented under his breath.

"Beautiful tits," you muttered unintentionally as you admired his pecs.

Minho smiled. "I could say the same thing about you, angel." He placed a hand on your back, pulling you closer and bringing one of your nipples into his mouth. He wasn't gentle about it, sucking and biting without holding back. You cried out, your hips pausing their grinding motions, your system completely overloaded by his harsh actions on your sensitive nipple.

"Keep riding," he mumbled, not even taking your nipple out of his mouth as he spoke.

You dragged your clit across his muscular thigh, whimpering loudly as you went. "Oh god, please, Minho! I need you inside me."

"Then beg for it."

You wasted no time. "Please, Minho, please, please! I need your cock, I've never needed anything this bad. I know I'm just a filthy little slut but please give me what I need, fuck, I'll die if you don't!"

"You really are a filthy slut," he agreed, lifting you from his thigh and laying you on his bed.

"Yes, yes, please Minho!" you babbled.

He pulled your underwear down, leaving you completely naked before him, before tugging his own briefs off.

Holy fucking shit, you thought.

His dick was beautiful. That was the only way to describe it - fucking beautiful. It was long, with a vein running along the underside, and the girth was decent too. The head was thick, and red, and if you weren't so desperate to be fucked you would've sucked on it for hours.

"I know you want it," Minho said. "But do you deserve it?" He stroked his dick slowly, and you watched as the head disappeared into his fist, emerging again as his hand ran along his shaft.

"I don't know, but I need it," you insisted. "I'll do anything."

Minho shook his head, but he looked smug. "Alright, baby. If you need it that badly."

"Yes, yes, yes," you chattered, intoxicated by a dick that you hadn't even felt yet.

He pushed your knees up to your chest, and you hooked your arms around them, holding them in position and peering down to watch his motions. "Such a perfect pussy." He rubbed the head of his dick across your clit, and you whined loudly. Distantly, you wondered if the sounds of the frat party below would even be enough to drown out your incessant noises of pleasure. It was irrelevant, though; you didn't care enough to stop.

He dragged his dick through your folds, over your hole, back up to your clit. Minutes ago, you would've killed a man to have Minho touch your pussy, but already you wanted more. He made you so greedy. It felt good but your thirst for more was unbearable, intolerable.

"Alright, baby, are you ready?"

"Yes!" you cried out.

Slowly, he sunk the tip of his dick inside you - just the tip. Thick as it was, it slid in with hardly any protest. He sighed as it went in, clearly needing the sensation more than he let on.

"More," you pleaded.

"You'll take what I give you, when I'm ready to give you it." Minho saw you roll your eyes at this, but said nothing.

He pushed the head in and out of your hole, never putting more than two inches inside.

"Please give me the whole thing, Minho!"

He simply shook his head. "You wouldn't be able to handle it. Dumb baby."

"I can handle it!" you insisted. "I swear I can!"

He looked at you, raising an eyebrow that told you he was unconvinced. "You can?" You nodded. "You're gonna cry like a little baby."

"Just give me your stupid dick right now!"

Minho laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, baby. Here comes my stupid dick."

He held your legs down against your chest, and slammed his whole length inside you. You saw stars. He thrusted, hard and fast, and you were somewhat aware that you were moaning probably louder than you ever had before, but all you could truly focus on was his cock filling you up. He was hitting your g-spot on every single thrust, grunting as he fucked you.

"God, you're tight," he groaned. He re-positioned his hips, and somehow managed to hit deeper. You felt him against your cervix, and cried out in pain.

"Too much," you weakly protested as your eyes filled with tears.

"I thought you could handle it?" he said, his voice lacking any sympathy. "Fucking pathetic, begging for a cock you couldn't even take."

"I-I can, just not so deep."

Minho smirked down at you. "It's not my fault my dick's so big," he said, but adjusted his thrusts slightly anyway.

"I can take it," you promised. "I-I can take anything you give me, Minho."

"That's right, baby. My filthy little whore." His voice was calm, but his eyebrows were furrowed and sweat was dripping down his forehead - the pleasure was overwhelming him just as much as it was destroying you.

Minho leaned down, connecting his mouth to yours as he fucked you. You sighed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking his tongue into your mouth. You couldn't help but moan. His dick fucking your pussy, his tongue fucking your mouth. This was heaven, you were sure of it.

He pulled away. "You think you could take some more?"

"More?" you asked, eyes wide.

"Just a little more. For me?"

You nodded hesitantly.

Minho paused his thrusts, but before you could whine in protest, you felt his finger rubbing at your opening. Slowly, he pushed his index finger inside, along with his dick. The painful stretch was incredible, and you whimpered at the feeling.

"There you go, babe," he said, beginning to thrust once more. He closed his eyes, losing himself to the sensation. "Fuck, this is nice and tight."

You were barely even lucid at this point. You babbled incoherently, unaware of what you were even trying to say. You were completely and utterly spellbound by his dick, by the sweet burning stretch.

"Touch yourself for me, baby," Minho directed you.

"F-Fuck- I don't know if I can-"

"I thought you wanted to be my sex slave, hm? Pretty little slaves do as they're told."

You whined, but obeyed his command. "M-Minho… I'm gonna cum if I keep going."

Minho barked out a laugh. "Cum then. I don't care. But don't take your fingers off that pussy, not even for a second."

You were beginning to think that maybe you weren't cut out for this. You hadn't even reached your climax yet, and already the overstimulation was too much. Your stretched out pussy was throbbing, and you jolted each time Minho's dick pounded your g-spot. You were drenched, covered in your own sweat as well as Minho's, which was dripping onto you from his hair, his forehead, his neck. The air in the room was thick, and smelled entirely of Minho - you were covered in him. He looked like a god above you, fucking into you like it was his life's mission.

It was too much for you to handle, without a doubt. And yet, you'd be happy to spend the rest of your life underneath him. Or on top of him. Or in any position which meant his dick could be inside you.

"Minho… Minho!" you whimpered.

"C'mon, baby," he encouraged you, his voice strained. From the sounds of it, he wasn't far from finishing either - although you got the sense he could keep going all night if he willed himself to. "Cum around my cock like the dirty little whore you are."

That was all the prompting you needed.

Your ears started ringing. You let the almost unbearable feeling of ecstasy wash over you, flooding Minho’s cock. You knew you were crying out maybe a bit too loudly - but you didn’t care, thrashing in Minho’s hold and grasping the bedsheets for dear life as he fucked you through it. He didn’t slow his pace, riding out your intense orgasm caused by the man of your dreams and making you feel as if you’d been set on fire.

"Does that feel good, baby?" Minho crooned, continuing to fuck you as he went after his own orgasm. You could only manage a high-pitched whine in response. "Just a little longer, baby, you can do it. Just lie there and let me use your tight little pussy, that's it." His voice was hoarse, and the veins on his neck were prominent. You knew he was going to cum soon, but you didn't know if you could hold on. You were over-sensitive to the point of pain, hands gripping Minho's bed sheets.

"Cum - give me your cum," you urged Minho. "Now, please."

His eyes widened. Your command had seemed to catch him off guard a bit. He pulled out of you, and you watched as thick ribbons of pearly white cum oozed onto your abdomen. You gasped gently as you watched. It was perhaps the most beautifully erotic thing you'd ever seen. His dick was definitely a contender for the prettiest one you'd ever fucked, and his cum was thick and heavy, dripping from the tip like a waterfall.

"Thank you," you whispered. He leaned in, kissing you deeply. He tasted like sweat, hot and sticky, and you moaned.

He pulled away, before planting one more kiss on your forehead. "You're welcome."

Minho stood, going to the other side of his room. You tried to follow him with your eyes, but you felt so weak and tired that they slipped shut immediately. He returned seconds later, and you lay still, sighing as he cleaned you up. His touch was so gentle, so soothing, so different than it had been just minutes before.

"That better?" he asked, discarding the towel.

You nodded. "You want me to go crash with Felix?" you asked, unsure of what exactly this arrangement was.

"Nah, you reek of sex. Felix wouldn't want you." He helped you climb under the covers. "Plus, I wouldn't mind some company tonight." He slid into bed beside you, and you rolled over, laying your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, and you felt incredibly safe secure, especially considering just how utterly terrified you'd been of this man a few hours ago.

You giggled softly, so tired and fucked out that you felt a little delirious. "Can't believe you fucked me, Minho."

Minho gave a short laugh. "Can't believe you convinced me to fuck you so easily. You're a little minx. I really wanted to play with you some more."

You nestled into his chest. "I guess there'll have to be a next time then, huh?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "If you're lucky."

"You wanna fuck me again, Minho, I know you do," you mumbled. "I saw the look in your eyes when you came. You need my pussy."

Minho was silent for a few seconds. "You're awfully bold for someone who was crying on my cock ten minutes ago."

"...Yeah."

"Get some sleep, sweetheart." No more than ten seconds later, you were sleeping in his arms.

You slipped into the land of dreams, where you went on to fantasise about Minho - his thighs, his neck, his tummy, his hands. His kisses, his touches, his dick in your throat, in your holes. Minho everywhere. Were you completely insatiable? Maybe. But it seemed very likely that he'd give it to you again. In your sleep, you smiled.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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theninthdoor · 2 months ago

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⭒˚｡⋆ 🍓 pac || inside your crush's mind ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆ 🐞

𖦹 think of your crush, take 3 deep breaths and pick one of the piles below! lets see what is/was going through your person’s mind & if you have or ever had a chance with them. 𖦹 take only what resonates. if you feel like the pile you’ve initially picked doesn’t really apply to the person/situation you’re thinking of, it’s OK to pick another one. I'm also leaving some extra messages and keywords at the end of each reading. those may work as confirmation for some people, but if they don't mean anything to you, that doesn't mean that that's not your pile. what you should really take into account is the description I make of the person (your crush) in each pile, and that's how you will know if you have chosen the right or wrong one. please use your discernment. 𖦹 remember that this is all for entertainment purposes and that free will still exists. don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to, just because your person thinks this or that, ok? 𖦹 enjoy, my lovelies!

Pile 1 || ☎️ cards: four of pentacles rx, death rx, knight of pentacles rx, judgement rx, the chariot

not you guys landing on the player's pile… omg So, yeah- Did you ever had a chance? For sure. Anyone would have a chance with this person, I feel like. This is someone who's either constantly in love or just can't stand being alone for too long. Maybe it's just their personality - being extroverted, a connection-seeker, always open to new relationships and whatever experiences come with it -, or perhaps they are simply that charming and the options never end for them. This does feel like someone who's very much a feeler, but maybe not the wisest or yet the most mature in general (or even the most emotionally available!!). For the most part, their relationships feel quite short lived, and mostly based on physical attraction. They may have had one or two longer ones, still (for some people in specific, it feels like your crush may have been in longer-term relationship that was very talked about and known about, and they may still be heavily associated with this ex of theirs). Now, when it comes to their thoughts and feelings towards you: I'm sorry to say it, but I just don't see them having cared or caring too much... They see you quite plainly (if they know you at all); you're just a friend, coworker or acquaintance. Yet, as I said, I feel like you'd definitely still be able to have a chance with them - all you would have to do is take that step towards them and get yourself noticed. Be confident about it! I think that's what attracts them the most to someone, actually: boldness. Flirt a little with them, and see where it leads you… It might not result in the most serious, stable or long lasting relationship of all time, but maybe you'll still get to have a good time together.

⋆ extra messages:

This totally feels straight out of a 2000s coming of age movie, or some rom-com set in high school, with your crush being the popular guy/girl everyone knows and is attracted to lol. Just thought I should add that in.

Milena. Mimi. Mario. Jet-black hair. Affluent neighbourhoods. Family business. Taking acting classes. Ankles/ankle bracelets. Big family event or gathering coming up soon (like a birthday, a wedding, some special holiday…). Talking about or someone's been worrying about frown lines recently. Jennifer. Janet. J surnames. Wearing a lot of orange lately, or having just bought a new orange clothing item. Ash. Ashley.

⋆ channeled song: The Bellamy Brothers - Let Your Love Flow

Pile 2 || 💄 cards: page of wands rx, ten of pentacles rx, knight of pentacles rx, the hermit, seven of wands

So, my sweet pile 2, here we have someone who has, for sure, noticed you before! Seven of Wands + The Hermit at the bottom of the deck = this person would do anything to get to know you a little better and/or to spend more time with you. There's something about the way you are or carry yourself that makes you stand out from other people - or perhaps you're just your crush's type and that's why their eyes are on you... I don't get a whole lot of communication or movement coming from them, so even if they talk to you, it doesn't feel direct; they're not letting you know how they feel; they're not openly flirting with you. This person actually feels very much like a Virgo or Capricorn Moon; logical, careful, slow moving. Once you get them to come of their shell and finally they feel ready to say something, though, you can definitely expect them to be very direct about it. At first they study you, consider the potential of this connection, and then they decide if they should go for it or not. If they do come towards you then, they won't waste any time, again. They're saying, you know… "Hey, let's go out one of these days. I'd like to spend some time with you." or "I really like your vibe. Would you care to go on a date with me, sometime?". It's quite dry and lame actually lol. They're still not flirting, exactly. They're just putting it out there that they're interested and want to explore this connection - again, very direct and logical about the whole thing. (And their flirting skills may actually suck, btw…) In the meantime, they may get closer to you by asking you about your interests, by sitting nearby in class or at lunch, watching your ig stories or something like that. It's the small things, and they're gonna take their sweet time with this. It's not something they are losing their sleep over; it's a case they are studying.

⋆ extra messages:

Is anyone here working or studying in a scientific field? Science feels very relevant. Ron, Rob, R names. Lab coats. Law; rules and regulations. College towns. Planning (or planning on attending) a big Halloween party - and putting a lot of thought into this as of late. Wisconsin. Big 3 Libra placements. Glasgow. Glass working/art. Gallows. Gallows humour. G surnames.

⋆ channeled song: John Legend - All of Me

Pile 3 || 🎧 cards: the chariot, four of swords rx, the magician, ten of swords, queen of wands, two of wands

Listen!!- Pile 3, please go for it!! Even if this doesn't last too long, I think there's great potential here for an absolutely amazing relationship/fling! The chemistry here is just insane… I don't know if it's this person themselves, or if it's actually the result of you two coming together, but I'm feeling HOT. I'm blushing. I'm excited. There's just so much passion here! I think this person is a smooth talker; not necessarily the most extroverted or talkative, but when they do talk to you, you can't help it but feel absolutely charmed. They are good-looking, smart, polite. I get a very venusian vibe coming them. They may put a lot of effort into how they look, not by vanity but because they genuinely like to take care of themselves + find it unmannerly to go out looking like a mess.

As for what's on their mind, my dear pile 3, I have good news for you! They have noticed you and thought about you before, and everything's very positive. They find you attractive, interesting, and a great catch, really. It also seems like they may have heard quite a bit about you (coming from others), and whatever was said gave them a very good impression on you, so even if you're not that well acquainted, they hold you in high regard already. However, with this 2oW, I feel like they may have other options, and if you don't make it clear that you want to explore a relationship with them, the opportunity might just pass you by. I actually don't see them making that move themselves, I'm sorry… There are other things/people holding their attention at the moment and for the foreseeable future. Still, The Strength rx + Queen of Cups at the bottom of the deck = the potential is here, and so is the chemistry I was talking about. Once you get this started, there's no stopping it! You'll be pulled in and taken on the most amazing ride.

⋆ extra messages:

E names. Emily. Emmett. Emerson. Soccer/football. Lia/Leah. India. Indya. I + IY/YI names. 2016 being a significant year - moving, meeting, Instagram following. June. Born on the 6th of the month. History. Brown hair and green eyes. Hazel eyes. Hazelnut. German family or travelling to Germany. Studying architecture or building architectural models. Learning french.

⋆ channeled song: Rihanna - Love On The Brain

Pile 4 || ♣️ cards: justice rx, page of cups rx, five of cups, page of pentacles rx, eight of pentacles

There's something very sad about this person and this pile. Your crush may have been or may be going through a difficult period, yet I feel like they've been doing their best to hide it. They laugh a lot, smile all day, joke around, but on the inside they are going through something that has been bringing them down. I think they feel lost, confused, alone. Maybe it's a family matter (like a divorce or some kind of separation), or perhaps it's just that, for some reason, they are now being forced to leave their home, friends and/or family, and it just hasn't been easy to them to accept and deal with that. There's a loss of stability here, and a loss of community. It could've happened already, too, by the way - they may already be in separation from their loved ones or away from the place they were used to calling home. On a positive note, I feel like this is temporary and they'll recover soon. It's just a low point for them. Also, they may be dealing with some concerns regarding their future and where to go next (professionally, academically, etc.), and that only adds to it all. As for the two of you, my dear pile 3, it seems like right now just isn't the right moment for anything to happen here. You can offer them friendship, some comfort, advice, support, but that's about it, I believe. This person has a lot to figure out at the moment, on their own, and whatever they have to offer you doesn't seem to be exactly what you need or want, deep down. It would lead to heartbreak, most likely. Still, this feels so sweet and so warm. So, maybe, you should give it some time and then give it a try… Because, honestly, I do think this person has some good feelings for you (or could grow some good feelings for you, if you aren't yet acquainted). They may not know what those are exactly, but I still think something really good could bloom from this.

⋆ extra messages:

A names. Adam. Adrienne. Greenland. Finland. Art class. Discussing or studying politics. Georgia. G names. Galicia. Meeting or seeing their father/father figure for the 1st time, or their father being mentioned in conversation a lot. Surgery. Torn ankle or some other leg/foot injury. Mockingbird. Buzzcut. Red nail polish.

⋆ channeled song: Billie Eilish - Bored

deck used || Tarot of the New Vision

(Disclaimer: Based on current energies. All is alleged and for entertainment purposes only.)

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