#this was the first thing I thought of when I saw him

[cherrygirlfriend]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ my nerdy boy

pairing: nerd!rafe x pervert!reader synopsis: all about nerd!rafe and his popular, secretly pervy girlfriend ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა warnings: smut, masturbation (f), implied virgin!rafe, MDNI! wc: 500 a/n; this is the first rafe fic on this account that isn't a repost! anyway lmk if you want to read more about them, this was sort of a 'morning thoughts' kinda post i wrote within an hour of waking up ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

when you first met rafe, he was tutoring you for math and the moment you saw him, you thought he looked downright edible in his little specs and his slicked-back hair. he wore baggy hoodies and sweatshirts adorned with your college's name, but one time, you grabbed his bicep to 'steady yourself' (to feel him up) and you felt the hard planes of muscles hidden under his clothes that immediately gave you filthy thoughts.

from then on, you'd do anything to see that pretty blush that'd sometimes grace his defined cheeks, and it wasn't even a difficult thing to achieve. really, most of the time calling him cute was enough to get him turning as bright as a tomato.

you always wore something low-cut and tight to your tutoring sessions, biting down on your lip and shamelessly pushing your cleavage together as you pretended to listen to him explain statistics, your panties getting wetter and wetter the more and more he stumbled with his words.

when he finally gathered enough courage to ask you out on a date, you took him to see a movie, keeping your arm around his shoulders the entirety of the movie, until the final thirty minutes when you pretended to stretch and yawn, moving your hand to rest on his thigh.

rafe stiffened in his seat, a bulge starting to form in his jeans that you pretended not to notice, all the while drawing hearts on the inside of his thigh with your long, pretty nails.

when you two finally started going out officially, you could tell that he didn't have much experience with relationships, his kisses were clumsy and he kept apologizing if he was 'doing it wrong' and you thought it was the most adorable thing ever.

the first time he let you into his dorm room, it was like his personality had been transformed into a bedroom. when he slipped off into the bathroom, you rolled around in his sheets, smelling his shampoo on his pillow, your hand going to rub yourself over your leggings.

you giggled when you saw all the different boxer shorts neatly arranged in his drawer, grabbing a blue plaid pair and slipping them into your bag.

later that night, you called him, wearing his boxer shorts, your arousal soaking them the moment you put them on. he answered in a groggy voice that caused another pang of arousal to go through your body. he'd been up late doing homework, explaining the subject of his essay while you simply 'mmhm'ed and 'oh?'ed at everything the boy said, too busy rubbing yourself to pay any real attention.

you were looking at a picture that you'd secretly taken of him as you worked yourself closer and closer, picturing his hand was the one getting you off, thinking about what it'd be like to jerk him off with your favorite strawberry-scented lotion.

when you finally felt your orgasm rock through you, you bit down on your pillow to muffle the moans and the 'nngh!'s that escaped you.

and for the next ten-or-so minutes, you just listened to him rant about his classes, your hand still in his boxer shorts, a satisfied smile on your lips, thinking of all the ways in which you wanted to defile his innocence.

[mytherapyisreading14]

Drunk Confessions

Summary: You got drunk during a night out with your best friend and accidentally send your Professor a photo of you in lingerie. Now you try to avoid him, which is not really working.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Smut (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, dirty talk, dom!spencer, semi-public sex, hair pulling, thigh riding, spanking, fingering, praise kink, multiple orgasms, oral sex (kinda, he comes in her mouth)

Word Count: 4,6k

Author’s Note: My last posts got so many likes, I didn’t expect that at all, thank you sm!! <3

Your alarm goes off - 8:30am. You groan. Your head is pounding and the sun shining into your room is just way too bright. Your stomach turns and you close your eyes to escape the wave of nausea. You slowly sit up and search for your phone on the nightstand. It feels like your head is going to explode. You reach out and unlock the screen, turning your alarm off.

It's way too early. And you drunk way too much last night. It was a chaotic but nice yesterday, a night full of laughter, way too much alcohol and karaoke. Your best friend celebrated her birthday and you promised to go to your favorite bar with her. You have to smile when you think back to the night and start checking your messages. You see that she already texted you this morning to find out how you are doing.

How are you?

I have the worst headache after last night

It was fun though, wanna go again tonight?

Just kidding, I feel like I need a week to recover from this

You can’t help but laugh and answer her quickly. You are about to put your phone away to finally get ready when a new chat catches your eye. You freeze in shock. It’s your Professors name. The one you’ve been crushing on since you saw him for the very first time.

Back when you found out that you were getting a new professor, you didn't expect much, a lecture like any other with someone who was only concerned with reciting his material. But then he entered. He came through the door and for a moment it seemed as if time stood still. The room, which had just been immersed in the murmur of conversation, suddenly became silent.

He was tall - taller than you expected and his presence filled the room in a way that you couldn't put into words. He wore a simple but elegant suit that somehow effortlessly fit him perfectly. His hair was a little longer, curly and fell slightly over his forehead. And then he looked up. His big, brown eyes met yours and in a split second everything became clear to you. You immediately knew you wanted, needed, this man.

Now you stare at the chat in complete horror. He recently gave you his number for a project. That's how this whole texting thing could even happen. Your heart is pounding in your chest. Obviously you can't remember texting him. You were so drunk yesterday that you can't even remember how you got home.

You open the chat - and your heart stops for a moment. It wasn't just a message that you sent him. It was a photo. Of you, in lingerie. It’s one of your favorite sets, you got it a couple of weeks ago. "I wore this for you today, Professor. Do you like it?” You wrote in addition to the photo.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. You just stare at the screen, the picture of you that you should never, ever, ever have sent. And the worst part: He read it. But didn't reply. Confusion and panic spreads through you. You jump out of bed, your feet barely finding purchase on the floor, and your heart keeps racing. You try to think clearly, but your thoughts are a complete mess.

You reach for your phone again and frantically tap on the chat with your best friend, but you pause and call her instead. "Hello?" Her voice still sounds sleepy and hungover. “Oh my God, I need your help!" you gasp and immediately start telling her everything.

The line is silent, then you hear a short laugh. "Wait a minute... what? You did that?" You close your eyes and search for the right words. But before you can say anything, it hits you like a blow. You also have a lecture with him today.

"I’m not coming today," you tell her. “You can't just cancel!" she says immediately, and you hear her getting herself settled in her bed. Her voice sounds determined, but also worried. "You know how it is, our seminar today. We can't miss it. We said that celebrating wouldn't stop us," she says. "Celebrating isn't what would stop me either. Seeing him definitely is," you say and lean back with a groan.

You close your eyes and sink even deeper into the pillows. Your stomach clenches when you think about it. She’s right, You really have to go today. But the text, the picture that you sent him - what if he wants to talk to you about it? Or worse, he reports the whole thing?

"I can't just sit in front of him today and pretend that everything is normal. I sent him a picture of me in lingerie... I can't face him. It's just... it's just too much!" There is silence on the other end of the line for a moment. She still hasn't said anything, and you know she's thinking. Then you hear her take a deep breath.

“Okay, the thing with the picture, that's really... a little crazy. But hey, you can skip the lecture. Just disappear after the seminar and then hide in your apartment. Or you can go and hope that when you run into him, he'll do completely different things after you seeing this photo. I bet you looked hot, was it the new set you recently bought?” she asks and you can hear her grin even though you're on the phone.

Obviously she knows about your crush on your professor. You couldn’t stop talking about him after your first lecture and she took every opportunity to tease you about it. You look at your phone as if it were the only thing that could help you think clearly. Of course she's right. You have to go to your seminar. And you can really skip his lecture. Still, the idea that he might be thinking about it makes your heart beat faster and not just in excitement.

“You're right, I... okay, I'll come," You say after a short pause, but the thought of maybe running into him still makes you nervous. “You'll see, it won't be as bad as you think. You'll get through the seminar, it's only an hour. And then we'll be out and we can take our time for everything else. And you'll just avoid your favorite professor today," she continues to teases.

“Today? More like forever," you mutter and finally get up, even though the thought of getting out of bed still paralyzes you. “See you soon then. I'll shower and get dressed now, then I'll come. Let’s meet outside the building, okay?" you ask. "Sure!" she calls out happily. "See you soon and don’t forget to wear another fancy set for your professor today. Just in case you run into him,” she jokes.

After you hang up you put the phone on the pillow and stand there for a moment, your legs heavy, your head still about to explode. But then you take a deep breath. It'll be fine, you just have get through the seminar. With a sigh, you go into the bathroom and take painkillers first. Then you start getting ready.

You turn on the water and let it run hot. A short time later, you go into the shower. The hot steam envelops you and slowly your body feels a little alive again. The nausea subsides and the hangover becomes more bearable. After the shower, you get dressed in peace - black skirt, a comfy sweater and your favorite sneakers. You quickly walk through the apartment again to make sure you packed everything and when you leave the house, you somehow feel less like a wreck.

-

The smell of freshly served pasta is still in your nose as you say goodbye. You got lunch together after your seminar and it was nice to get a little break and talk about everything that happened. Now you are ready to leave but you still have to go to the library to get a book that you need for your upcoming assignment first.

“I still have to go to the library," you tell her, pulling your bag over your shoulder. “Are you coming with me?” you ask her. “I’m sorry, I have to pick up my sister now. But be careful, you don’t want to run into your favorite professor, or do you?” she teases again. “I’m not going to run into him. I’ll hurry up and leave immediately. I’ll call you later. See you tomorrow," you say and give her a quick wave before you set off.

-

The campus is full of students rushing through the halls, carrying their books around or sitting in groups and discussing. You slip into the library and head straight to the section where the book you need is. Unfortunately it’s at the top of the shelf and you realize that you probably won't be able to reach it. You jump up a few times, but the distance between you and the book just seems too big. You sigh. If only you were a little taller.

As you attempt the jump for the third time, you suddenly feel a presence building behind you. One that seems familiar. Your heart beats faster and a nervous tremor takes hold of you. You turn around and stare straight into Professor Reid's eyes. He is standing just inches away from you and you can hear the soft sound of his breathing.

The look he gives you is almost piercing - warm, but somehow also searching. He leans forward slightly without saying a word and effortlessly grabs the book with one hand. You avoid his gaze as he hands it to you. “Thank you," you murmur, trying to hide the slight nervous tremor in your voice. He nods and stands still for a moment.

"You weren't at my lecture today." You stare at the book in your hands and feel your stomach clench. This is not good. “I..." you take a deep breath. "I haven't been feeling so good. My head..." He waits, his eyes still fixed on you, and you get the feeling that he wants to hear more. You feel his gaze on you and when you finally raise your eyes to look into his eyes, there is a silent understanding, and for a moment you wonder if there’s more. “Sick, or...?" he asks calmly. You hesitate and bite your lip.

"I went out partying with my best friend yesterday, it was her birthday… we drank a little bit too much and... well, I'm not feeling so good today. That’s why I skipped." His expression remains neutral, but something in his gaze changes. You can hardly believe it, but it's almost as if he's interested. He frowns slightly. "I understand," he then says. "But it's not ideal to miss class, especially when important topics are involved."

You nod. “I know, Professor. I won’t happen again.” You just want to get out of this situation, and as you try to take a step back he stops you. "No, wait. I need to talk to you." You pause and turn back to him. "About what? I don’t really have the time -" you begin, pretending you don't have any idea what he wants to talk about, when he cuts you off.

"Doesn’t matter, it’s important. We'll sort it out in my office." His gaze is intense as he steps towards you. The thought of him asking you to come to his office makes your heart beat faster. The idea of ​​being alone in a room with him is tempting. "Okay," you say quietly, unable to prevent a nervous tingling from spreading in your chest. You follow him, even though your legs feel like they're made of jelly.

He leads the way, his steps calm and determined, and you can barely keep your eyes from lingering on his back. As soon as you reach the door to his office, he opens it and lets you enter first. You step in, your heart now beating loudly in your ears. The moment he closes the door behind you, you realize that it is more than just a conversation about the seminar.

The look he is giving you now is not the look of a professor. It is the look of a man who wants more than just academic discussions at this moment. And the thought that you’re alone with him in this room inevitably leaves you nervous and intrigued at the same time.

As the door closes behind you, you’re left breathless for a moment. His office is quiet, almost too quiet, compared to the crowded hallways outside. The room is sparsely decorated, except for the desk covered with stacks of paper and a few personal items. He is still standing at the table, his arms loosely folded in front of his chest and looks at you.

"Sit down," he says calmly, pointing to the chair on the opposite of the desk. You hesitate, then finally sit down, your heart pounding in your chest. The nervous energy inside you grows as you try to organize your thoughts. Before he can say anything else, you can’t hold it back any longer. The words come out of you hastily, almost in a rush, and you feel your body tense.

"The picture, it was a mistake! I didn't mean to... It wasn't meant for you. I was drunk, and it was stupid of me, really. I'm sorry." You look at the table, avoiding his gaze. But as you say the last words, you immediately notice how the atmosphere in the room changes. He remains silent for a moment, but then his body language shifts slightly - his gaze becomes more intense, the tension between you almost tangible.

"Hmm," he says after a pause, his voice deep and calm, "so the picture wasn't meant for me?" You flinch when you hear his question. What exactly does he want to hear? What does he want to know from you? You try to stay calm and answer hesitantly.

"It... it's none of your business." His expression hardens instantly. "It is," he says, and his voice sounds sharper, more determined now. "Because you sent it to me." Your heart beats faster as he continues. "I don't think it was an accident, even if you were drunk. You wanted to send it to me. And you did."

A cold shiver runs down your spine. You open your mouth, trying to say something, but you can't find a way to defend yourself. Instead, you just stay still, looking at your hands, which are resting nervously on your lap.

He laughs quietly, a mocking, almost challenging laugh. "So you're really sure it was an accident, huh?" He slowly leans forward, rests his hands on the table and looks straight into your eyes. The look in his eyes has changed, and something in his expression shows you that he is the one in control.

"Do you really think I haven't noticed how you look at me in class? How you keep watching my hands? How you press your thighs together when I approach you?" His words hit you and you freeze for a moment. Your cheeks burn hot, you feel your heart pounding uncontrollably, but you keep quiet. Everything inside you screams to defend yourself, but you stay silent because you know he’s right.

"I noticed from the beginning, angel," he continues, and a shiver runs down your spine. You can’t believe he just called you that. It turns you on immensely. "I know you didn't just do it because of the party and the alcohol. You also sent it to me because you wanted to." He leans further forward, his presence overwhelming, and you can't help but feel small even as you try to assert yourself.

You open your mouth to say something, but the words stick in your throat. What could you say? That he's wrong? That would be a lie. “You sent it to me," he repeats, his voice now almost like a command. "Because you wanted to show me. And I don't think it was an accident. You were drunk, yes, but you wanted me to see you like this."

Your body is paralyzed. It feels like the room has suddenly become smaller. You can hardly breathe. His words and his look have completely captured you in that moment. “I... uh," you begin, but the thought that he is in control, that he sees you like this at this moment, leaves you speechless and you’re unable form a proper sentence.

He remains silent, only his eyes continue to focus on you. "You have to understand that you can't just play with me like that." His gaze becomes more intense, and for a moment it seems as if he wants to say more but then he slowly stands up, walks around the table and stops right in front of you.

"I'll show you something," he says in a calm but unmistakable voice. "And you will understand why it wasn't just an accident." Your heart beats faster. His hand reaches for your chin, lifting it up and tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath hitches and you lean closer, craving his touch. “Get up and lock the door for me,” he says and pulls his hand away slowly.

You do as your told immediately and when you turn around, he is sitting on his chair with his legs spread. He looks so hot and you desperately clench your thighs together to relief the pressure between your legs. “Good girl. Come here,” he says and pats his thigh. You shiver in excitement and when he notices a grin spreads across his face.

You go over to him and when you stand in front of him, he pulls you down into his lap. He leans forward to whisper into your ear “That’s what you wanted, right? To be my good girl. That’s why you send me that picture. You wanted to end up here,” he says and places his hands on your hips. You press yourself closer against him and inhale his scent, he smells like cinnamon, peppermint and aftershave, it’s addictive.

However, you get interrupt by his hand reaching into your hair to pull your head back. You gasp in surprise and he leans closer to you, looking deep into your eyes again. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer,” he says and you can feel yourself getting even wetter. “Yes, that’s true. I - I always wanted that,” you manage to say and he releases your hair, satisfied with your response.

Then he leans forward and you finally feel his lips against yours. It’s even better than you always imagined and you start to grind against his leg, desperate to release the friction between your legs. But Spencer quickly stops you. “Did I allow you to move?” he asks and you shake your head.

He sighs in disappointment but before he can say anything you quickly answer him. “No, you didn’t,” you say and his grip on your hips looses a little. “That’s right. I didn’t. And you’re not allowed to move until I tell you to. You’re going to listen to me and do exactly what your told, do you understand?” he asks. “I understand.”

“See, it’s not that hard. You listen to me, you behave and you’ll get your reward. Now, do you want to ride my thigh?” he asks, his hand slowly sliding behind your back to your ass, squeezing it. “Yes, please. Can I?” you ask and he leans forward to kiss you again, his tongue exploring your mouth. When he pulls back you can see his eyes sparkling with lust. “So polite, I like that. Yes, you can,” he says and you finally go back to moving against his thigh.

It feels good, so good and when Spencer starts to slide one hand under your shirt to grab your breasts you press closer against him. You can feel that you soaked your underwear trough and wearing only a skirt, you can already see a small wet stain on his pants. His gaze follows yours and he chuckles. “Someone’s needy,” he says and you nod, leaning against his chest, grinding down more against him.

“Spen - Spencer, I’m going to come,” you whimper but he pulls you back by your hair again. “It’s Sir for you, angel,” he says and you correct yourself immediately. “Please Sir, can I come on your thigh now?” you breath out and he grabs your hips again, stopping you.

“No, not yet,” he simply says and you whine when he stands up and you lose contact. “But I thought - “ you start but he doesn’t let you finish. He turns you around and pushes you down onto his desk. “Doesn’t matter what you thought. I decided I’m not letting you come yet,” he says and flips over your skirt to expose your underwear to him.

“I see, another pair then the ones you wore yesterday. I’ve got to admit, I prefer the other ones, but you look pretty anyway, angel,” he says, sliding his hands over your thighs and your ass. “Last night when you send me that picture, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits and you can feel your whole body reacting to his words.

A wave of confidence flashes through you. “Did I keep you up last night, Sir? Did you have to stroke your cock while you looked at my picture? Thinking about all the ways you want to fuck me?” you ask him and turn your head slightly back to look at him with a smirk on your face. His eyes darken and he tightens his grip.

“Oh you have no idea, angel. I’m going to show you exactly what I was thinking about last night,” And suddenly you feel a harsh smack on your ass. He just spanked you. And you liked it. Your breath hitches and you bit down on your lip to keep quiet. You don’t want anyone to find out what’s going on in here.

His hand strokes the spot he just hit before going further down to pull at your panties. He takes them off and stuffs them into his pocket. You are convinced you’re not going to get them back. Then you feel his long, slender fingers sliding between your legs before he presses onto your clit. You gasp in surprise and try to press against him but his grip on your hips is firm, holding you still.

Then he pushes two fingers inside you. “So fucking wet.” His eyes wander over your body down to your legs hungrily, appreciating every curve and every spot. “I’ve never seen such a pretty pussy. And it’s all mine now. You’re all mine now,” he says. The way his fingers move and the way he stares at you intensely feels just way too good.

When his thumb goes back to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles, you can feel how your orgasm builds up inside of you and you can no longer hold back your moans. “Spencer - Sir, feels so good. Please,… I need more,” You clench around his fingers and he quickly puts a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. “Shh, be quiet, angel. As much as I would love to hear all these lovely sounds you make, I don’t want to get interrupted. Not now, when I finally have you, after all this time.”

His fingers curl inside you and keep hitting your g -spot. You clench around them, he notices and chuckles. “Can I - please,” you stutter. “Yes angel,” he says, already knowing what you’re asking for and you come around his fingers. You never had such an intense orgasm from foreplay before, but you don’t mind. It’s even better than you always imagined.

He wants to give you a moment to recover but you want more. You somehow manage to turn around, even though your legs feel like they are going to give in any second and push yourself up on his desk. He looks surprised and opens his mouth to say something but you interrupt him by pulling him closer by his tie.

You wrap your hands around his neck and rank your fingers through his soft, brown hair before kissing him. You moan into his mouth and he groans, sending a shiver down your spine. “Thank you, Sir. That was amazing,” you say with a smirk on your face when you pull back. “Now is the time to lose your pants and relax, I want to return the favor.”

“As much as I want to see you down on your knees with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, we don’t have much time left. Office hour starts in less than 30 minutes. And I need to fuck you. So drop it and spread your legs for me. Now,” he demands and you obliged, sitting further back on his desk with your legs spread.

He takes a step back and starts to unzip his dress pants. When he takes out his cock your eyes widen. He is even bigger than you expected. “Are you on the pill?” he asks while he starts to pump his cock. “I am,” you say. “Good. I want to fuck your pussy and then, since you suggested sucking me off, come inside your mouth. I want you to taste me. You don’t swallow until I say so. Do you understand?” he asks, sliding his cock through your folds to tease you. “Yes Sir, I understand,” you whimper and he wastes no time and pushes inside you.

His first thrust already make your eyes roll back and you feel like you’re going to die from the intense pleasure. Your legs wrap around his waits and your hands are on his back, pressing him even more against your body. Everytime a whimper or a moan escapes your mouth his thrust become deeper, rougher and faster. You can feel him throb inside you and he keeps hitting your g- spot over and over again.

One of his hand is sneaking through your breast, squeezing it and toying with your nipple. You graze his back with your fingernails and make sure to leave marks on him. Your mind goes blank and you lose yourself in the pleasure completely. After a few more thrust you can feel the orgasm building up inside of you. “Close,” you breath out and he nods. “Me too. You can come on my cock now.”

You let go and your orgasm is even more intense than you expected. You moan his name so loud that he quickly covers your mouth with his hand again. He picks up his speed and a few thrusts later he pulls out of you to shove his cock into your mouth. You can feel his cum inside your mouth and taste him, just like he told you to. He watches you closely the whole time while he recovers from his own orgasm.

“Now swallow,” he says and you do. Then he pulls you forward with both of his hands to kiss you. The kiss is different this time, more gentle and caring, not just full of lust. When he pulls back you both smile. “I guess sending you this picture was not bad at all. And I was so worried.” He laughs. “I’m glad you send it, angel. Now I finally have you all to myself. It's a shame I couldn't take more time for you right now. There's a lot more I'd like to do with you,” he says with a mischievous smile on his face. “Why don’t you show me after your office hours, Sir?” you say with a smirk on your face. “Make sure to be here on time, angel.”

[poguehearted77]

Tap Out

Just thinking about Rafe's super gorgeous, beautifully breathtaking girlfriend who is notorious for giving people a hard time. Especially him.

She got that million dollar Million dollar oow, oow And all I want to do is touch it Make her tapout, tapout, tapout, tapout,

Rafe stands tall and brooding in front of the bed where you sat while he hits replay on the overbearing series of voicemails you'd left him while he was out.

"Hi Rafe, I know you said you and Barry had to go take care of whatever it was that you said—I don't know; I wasn't really listening, but I just saw this new coach bag online, and I need you to send me a picture of your credit card front and back so I can get it. Thanks in advance baby."

You stay silent and unbothered by the replay.

He plays the next one, "It's almost midnight, Rafe. When are you coming home? I miss you. The bed is so big and empty without you in it. You remember that night we came back from the Blue Diamond charity gala and we barely made it up the stairs? The way you fucked me so good, left me aching for you for days--mmmm, wanna feel you like that again, come home Rafeyy."

Your boyfriend huffs as he moves to play the last one except this one is silent for the first few moments until some lewd sounds can be picked up. It's wet and sticky. It sounds like Thanksgiving mac and cheese being stirred in the pot. Soon, the faintest string of moans can be heard.

Most wouldn't be able to pick up on it, but not Rafe. His ears are trained to the sound of your voice. He's accustomed to every pitch, tone and frequency your pleasure can take on.

You stand, ready to plead your case, "You were gone for hours, what was I supposed to do?" Your arms cross defensively and they suddenly drop when Rafe's big hand is holding you by the throat, squeezing tight enough to have you gasping.

"You think this shit is funny?" His voice is strict, unwavering and serious. "What if Barry heard this? Huh?" Your eyes roll, defences refusing to crumble even with a limited supply of air, "It's Barry, he'd probably thank me-"

You need to learn when to shut up at the end of a rhetorical question because now Rafe had you bent up like a pretzel. One hand is still around your neck while the other holds you at the waist.

Your legs are shaking as he brings you to what you thought was your third orgasm but is actually the fourth (you'd blacked out during the second one). "Rafe- no- s'too much," You murmur, voice broken and weak from all your screams.

"Nothin's too much for you." He groans, punctuating his sentences with a sharp snap of his hips. It sends you reeling and your eyes roll back as you feel that familiar heat begin to unfurl in your core.

You shake your head repeatedly, "I can't--Rafe! Please." You beg, so incredibly turned on by the sight of your hot boyfriend who looked down to where your bodies connected. The way your slick covered his cock down to his balls. It pulls a groan out of him from his core.

You admired the sweat that gathered over the thin hairs on his chest and that piercing blue gaze that would glance up at you from time to time to taunt you like now. "You know what to do if you can't take it sweet thing." You do know what to do, but you refuse to back down, you're so close.

"O-oh shit I'm-" The words escape and your climax is stolen from you when Rafe stops completely and pulls out, his hands move down to your hips, shamelessly displaying his physical dominance over you and flipping you onto your stomach effortlessly.

He grips the flesh of your waist and manhandles you until you're being pulled back against him, the beautiful sight of your plump and juicy ass in his hands is enough to send him to the heavens above or maybe the firey pits below.

You're already too weak to hold yourself up on your arms, so you let yourself fall into the sheets. Your cries muffled into the pillows as Rafe slowly presses back into you, stretching you back open. His rhythm picks up with nothing but urgency and mercilessness.

Your back arches, and you cry out his name when you're blinded by your own orgasm. Coming undone once more and he comes soon after with a breathy chuckle. His hips are still rolling into yours lethargicly when he whispers, "You got one more in you, baby?"

"Fuck no. I'm done." You whine, your fists tapping out on the pillow and his pace slows until he finally stops, slowly pulling out.

"That'll teach you to fuck with my voicemails when I'm not here." He lays himself down beside you, carefully moving the stray strands of hair out of your face to admire you.

Your lips were swollen from all the sucking and biting he'd done to them earlier, your cheeks flushed and your body is spent. You grin, "You know you liked it, especially that last one." Rafe exhaled, even in your drained state you can still find time to be bratty.

"I did, I did. You sounded so fucking pretty playing with that perfect pussy of yours. Had to go rub one out in Barry's bathroom because of you." You smile a little bigger at that. "Good." Is all you say and Rafe can only roll his eyes as he moves to hold you in his arms.

You both lay there, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies until Rafe speaks up softly, "Tuesday." He says, and your head looks up at him with a confused tilt. Without having to ask him, he explains, "The purse you want. I ordered it. It'll be here on Tuesday."

Just when your smile couldn't get any bigger, it does, and Rafe can't help but to be in awe because god you're so fucking gorgeous but you're such a pain in the ass.

His prettiest headache.

[heestoleurgirl]

sim jaeyun 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ in which riki broke up with you, leaving you devastated and depressed. that is, until you get drunk on a night out, and somehow find yourself in his best friend's bed.

genre: angst, smut (pwp) pairing: ex's best friend!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut, MDNI!! wc: 5k

A/N: why am i writing jake smut, im not even jake biased

masterlist 𖤐.ᐟ

21 days. 21 days since your boyfriend, riki, broke up with you. everyone said it would get easier to deal with over time, and you knew they were right, but you still felt like shit every hour of every single day.

anywhere you looked, you'd just get reminded of him and have flashes of unwanted memories in your mind. it felt like absolute torture. yes, this had been your first serious relationship and you loved him so much, of course you were upset (to say the least).

the worst part was that you still saw him every now and then on campus, which only made your heart ache more. especially when he happened to be around his girl friends. you knew it was just irrational jealousy but that didn't stop you from getting nauseous at the sight.

જ⁀➴ more under the cut!

one thing was for certain: you couldn't keep going like this, you were extremely exhausted from feeling so miserable 24/7. crying all the time was getting old, and rotting in bed forever didn't seem like a good long term solution. so, you had a totally mature and genius idea that would definitely not make things worse in any way. there was a house party being hosted by someone you knew, it would be the perfect place to get drunk and forget about your ex. even if it's just for one night.

your friends had already been nagging you to go, knowing your current state and how you barely left your house unless it was absolutely necessary. they were worried for you and missed your radiant aura. minhee was convinced she'd find you a hot guy that would help you move on. yeah, you knew that wouldn't work as simple as that, it wasn't easy to simply forget someone you loved with your whole heart and dated for quite a while. but at least you could give it a try, right?

♡

fast forward to friday, you sat on the carpet in front of the body length mirror in your room, attempting to do your makeup. truth be told, it's been a while since you made yourself look so glamorous, which made it all the more difficult to get ready. every fibre of your being was screaming at you to just stay home and cry yourself to sleep while watching rom coms. but you pushed through, forcing yourself to stay on track with your plans and also not let down your friends who were there for you.

the faint sound of a honk broke you out of your thoughts, causing you to grab your belongings and waddle down the stairs in a dress that was shorter than you were comfortable with. your friend karina had gotten it for you a while ago, and you felt bad for never wearing it since then.

"looking good y/nnie!" minhee smirked and jokingly whistled as you managed to navigate yourself in to the passenger seat of her car.

all you could do was roll your eyes and playfully nudge her shoulder. "shut up"

she wiggled her brows in response before shifting gears and taking off to pick the other girls up too. you'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous about tonight, and feeling some form of regret. you could only pray and hope that riki wouldn't be there, or you'd definitely drown yourself in the pool without a second thought.

following your excited and chatty friends up the stairs felt strangely like walking towards your impending doom. you stuck close to minhee, who unsurprisingly immediately made her way to the drinks. not like you minded, because there was no way you were surviving this night without any alcohol.

the unknown mix of drinks burned your throat as you swallowed it, not really bothering to be sensible. before you knew it, you were on the dance floor with your friends, laughing and singing along to the songs blasting from the speakers. even if it was due to the alcohol, finally having a smile on your face was really refreshing. karina seemed to notice, who flashed you a grin and tugged you closer as the two of you were dancing like there was no tomorrow.

as the night went on, you gradually lost yourself to the alcohol that was now buzzing in your veins. you didn't feel like yourself at all, but in the best way possible. anyone would be able to tell that you were completely out of it by now.

you had no idea where your friends had disappeared off to, and somehow you found yourself not caring. while you were busy pushing past people with no particular destination in mind, you accidentally bumped into someone.

"woopsies, silly me!" you giggled drunkenly, looking up to see who it was. your heart did a backflip when you managed to recognize the face staring back at you.

"no worries darling." you knew that aussie accent way too well. standing right in front of you was jake, riki's best friend. honestly you were just relieved that it wasn't riki himself.

"oh, hi jake." you stumbled a bit and grabbed onto his arm for support. he merely looked down at you in amusement, finding the blush on your cheek quite cute. his eyebrow shot up subtly, eyeing the revealing dress that was definitely out of chatacter for you. despite that, you looked undeniably gorgeous like always.

jake's hand moved to your waist casually, acting as a stabilizer so you wouldn't fall over. normally, you would've felt awkward in a situation like this, but now you weren't even phased.

"you look like you've had one too many drinks, hm?" he leaned closer to speak, so you'd hear him over the loud music. your hands instinctively tightened around his arm.

"i-i'm fine..." you mumbled stubbornly, even though it was obvious you were close to collapsing right there on the spot.

"are you here alone? where are your friends?" if you were sober, you definitely wouldn't have missed the slight concern laced with his voice.

"uhmm... i dunno!" you grinned sheepishly at him, still pressed against his arm. "i think they ditched me"

you had no idea when or how you lost them, so his guess was as good as yours. "i was just about to leave anyway. can't leave a pretty thing like you drunk and alone"

before you knew it, jake was dragging you out of the party along with him. you weren't exactly sure what was going on, but even in your state you knew that you trusted him. after all, he was your ex's best friend, you'd known him for a while.

♡

jake guided you into his bedroom, sitting you down on his bed and looking down at you, as if contemplating something. now that you were actually here, in his apartment, he wasn't sure if this was the right decision. but what else could he do, leave you at the party when you were completely shitfaced? absolutely not.

he kneeled down in front of you and carefully took one of your legs in his hand, removing your heel with the upmost precision. the other one was discarded too, letting your feet feel relieved from being squished together all night.

you were quiet now, past your drunken giggling and just zoning out, having no clue where you were. he almost laughed at the sight. he'd never seen you so vulnerable and adorable.

"stay here, i'll bring you some water" he stood up and disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes. true to his words, he returned with the water in one hand, and a pill in the other.

you watched with glossy eyes as he sat down next to you and gently guided the glass to your lips. you obeyed, feeling refreshed by the cold liquid. he gave you the pill next, urging you to swallow it. "this will make your headache more bearable tomorrow"

a quiet hum left your lips as you followed his instructions, then set the glass aside on his nightstand. your movements were still uncoordinated and messy, making him chuckle.

"you tired, pretty?" jake examined your droopy eyes, you looked so cute he had to hold himself back from smothering you in affection.

the first time jake saw you, he had felt starstruck. if he could go back in time, he definitely wouldn't have fumbled you so bad. he was a coward, he waited too long and suddenly you were dating his best friend. despite all his attempts to get rid of his attraction towards you, nothing seemed to work in his favour. you were quite literally the only girl he couldn't have, and ironically enough also the only one he wanted. but of course, he was respectful of your relationship with riki and was good at hiding his feelings towards you, he'd never let his jealousy be the reason he fell out with his best friend.

so here you were, sitting in his bed, drunk off your ass and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out why you'd drink so much. he wasn't sure how riki would react if he knew the situation he was in right now. he chose to push that thought aside and focus on you.

when you didn't answer his question, he spoke again, "you can sleep in my clothes, yeah?"

you nodded and stood up, letting him help you make your way to the bathroom. As he was closing the door, he added one more thing. "if you need any help, just shout for me."

it was quite difficult to get your dress off, but you managed somehow. all your limbs felt weak and heavy, and you were still disoriented, though you were able to change without falling over or breaking anything. jake's shirt swallowed your small frame comfortably, and you smiled faintly at the smell of his cologne lingering on the fabric. your mind was a jumbled mess of feelings as you returned, seeing him scrolling his phone, also in a more comfortable set of clothes.

he looked up and smirked at you, his eyes shamelessly travelling down your body as he took in the sight of you. to him, you'd never looked hotter. the combination of your messy hair and his shirt stopping by your mid-thighs was enough to make his head spin. he had to remind himself that you were drunk, and no matter how badly he wanted you he couldn't take advantage of you in this state.

seeing him pat a spot on the bed, you didn't need much convincing to climb under the covers and rest your head on a pillow. once again, you were welcomed with his scent, causing you to feel strangely comforted.

jake stood up and gave you one last look, making sure you were laid on your side so you wouldn't accidentally hurt yourself by choking on your tongue.

"where are you going?" you asked tiredly, opening your eyes to see him by the door of his bedroom.

"i'm sleeping on the couch." he raised a brow, surprised to see you sit up in the bed after just getting comfortable. your next words made him wonder if he was hallucinating.

"come back, i don't want to be alone"

your quiet, pleading voice was simply impossible to resist. how could he say no, when you were looking at him with literal puppy eyes? he sighed, and following a moment of hesitation he climbed into bed next to you. it's not like he didn't want to sleep next to you, god he would give anything to experience this. but he wasn't sure how long he could control himself when you were in his bed, looking like an angel.

for a few minutes, the room was filled with heavy silence as the two of you simply stared at each other. you admired his face, the dim lighting only adding to the tension slowly filling the air. you'd never really noticed just how pretty he was before. his round, brown eyes seemed so welcoming.

"jake..." you almost whispered his name, with nothing specific in mind. you just wanted to end the silence between you, it felt too tense.

"hm?" his eyes never left yours, studying your face as if you were the most interesting thing in the world. the longer you looked at him, the more your heart seemed to race.

"i... i don't know"

"what's wrong?" jake studied your glossy eyes, wondering why you were suddenly acting so emotional. his heart clenched at the sight of you nearly crying. he longed to pull you close and kiss you until you were smiling again.

"i don't know, i just..." you struggled to find words to express how you felt, especially with the alcohol still lingering in your system. there was so much you wanted to say, but you knew better than to break down in his bed when he'd been kind enough to bring you home with him safely. "...i don't wanna be alone. i hate the silence, i hate feeling everything and nothing at the same time i-"

suddenly you felt his finger wiping a stray tear from your cheek, one you haven't even noticed falling. there it was, that familiar heavy feeling in your heart. the one you were so sick of feeling, all you wanted was for it to go away.

you didn't really think before scooting over and hugging jake's larger frame. your face was buried in his neck, a good way to hide your tears as well as your embarrassment. his warmth felt intoxicating and you clutched his shirt like you were afraid he'd disappear.

jake didn't hesitate to welcome your hug and return it, he was more than happy to be your shoulder to cry on. seeing you in such a state made him realize just how emotionally drained you'd been since the breakup happened, he silently cursed riki for not taking care of you properly.

you felt like this was the first time someone had properly hugged you in weeks, which didn't help the overflowing emotions you were already experiencing. you clinged to him as if he was your lifeline, your only hope. there was no way you could explain the way his entire presence and embrace was more comforting than anything you'd felt in a while.

maybe you were delusional, but being in his arms like this made you feel all the more attracted to him. letting your guard down was something you rarely ever did, even with your most trusted friends. yet here you were, silently crying in jake's bed and confessing how lonely you felt as of late. it felt so intimate to be vulnerable around him.

"it's okay, you're not alone. i'm here, yeah?" he murmured against your hair, rubbing your back gently in an attempt to calm you down. if he wasn't paying attention, he would've missed the subtle nod of your head.

"i'm sorry. please don't leave." you whispered, sliding your hands under his shirt to feel the bare skin of his back that was practically radiating heat.

your touch caught him off guard and he almost hissed at the contact, his arms tightened around your waist. "i'm not going anywhere darling, and you have nothing to be sorry for. you've been through a lot and you just need some love"

yeah, you did need love. you felt guilty, a part of you still yearned for it to be riki who gave you the love you wanted so badly. but he was gone now, no matter how much you cried over it the past won't change. the more rational part of your brain was constantly urging you to move on and accept the fact that riki doesn't love you anymore. you swore the mixed emotions were going to drive you insane, if they haven't already.

but right now, even if it wasn't what you wanted, jake was what you needed. if only you knew the true extent of how much he cared for you.

jake's hands paused against your back when he felt the soft press of your lips against his neck. it surprised him so much that he couldn't help but wonder if he was imagining things. but no, he felt it yet again. "fuck, angel... don't do that" he struggled to speak properly.

"why not?" you pulled away a bit to examine his face, searching for signs of any discomfort, or maybe disgust. you just wanted to shower him in affection to show him how grateful you felt to be here with him right now. to be able to sleep in his bed and cry in his arms to your heart's extent.

he wasn't sure how to explain the reason he didn't want you to kiss him right now, and you were completely oblivious to his internal struggle.

"you're still tipsy, and emotional..." jake brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, "i'm not going to take advantage of your state." he was being so sweet to you, it was almost annoying. yes, you were still not entirely sober but you couldn't deny the overwhelming urge to be... close to him.

so instead of replying, you leaned closer and pecked his cheek, causing jake to groan aloud. how could he possibly restrain himself when the girl he was whipped for was acting like this? he cupped your jaw with one hand and pulled your face closer, placing his lips onto yours with one swift motion.

your eyes fluttered shut and you kissed back as if you had done this a million times before. it felt so natural, and you were becoming lightheaded from how perfectly your lips felt against each other. previously you'd been worried that kissing someone would feel wrong, and you thought you'd imagine you were kissing riki instead, but right now there wasn't a single thought about him in your mind. all you could focus on was how good it was.

jake felt like he was losing his mind more every second he continued to kiss you. he didn't care how needy he might be coming off, cause fuck he'd wanted to this for months. never in a million years did he anticipate it would actually happen, in this context no less.

the kiss grew more heated as you moved your hands from his back to feel up his defined abs, relishing how supple and warm his skin was. at the same time, jake had a hand cupping your cheek, while the other one slid down to your waist, dipping under the shirt you were wearing. the feeling of your bare skin under his fingertips was absolutely euphoric. safe to say, neither of you were thinking about how right or wrong this might be at the moment. all your thoughts were out the window and you were entirely immersed in his company.

he didn't hesitate for a second when he realized you were tugging at the hem of his shirt, silently demanding its removal. the t-shirt was tossed aside, landing somewhere on the floor of his bedroom. your eyes widened as you were met with the sight of his bare upper body, you had to hold yourself back from practically drooling at the view. jake noticed your lustful gaze and couldn't help but smirk to himself. he pulled you closer and kissed you briefly before whispering in your ear lowly, "your turn."

he didn't leave you time to respond, tugging your shirt over your head. the action made you blush a bit, but you lifted your arms to help him remove the item of clothing. faint goosebumps littered your skin due to the sudden loss of heat, mixed with the tension in the air.

your hands landed on his chest, you took a moment to look into his eyes before inching closer and placing your lips on his for the nth time. the passion was halted for a moment, leaving room for the kiss to be more timid and soft. it didn't last for long though, soon enough it turned needy once again.

jake sat up without warning and pulled you into his lap snugly by your waist. your legs landed on either side of his thighs as you made yourself comfortable and wrapped your arms around his neck. his half lidded eyes and lazy grin made your heart skip a beat. for a second you felt stunned, an overwhelming sense of need filled you. he didn't miss the way your gaze travelled down his bare body once again, it sent a strange kind of satisfaction through him.

his lips found their way down from your jaw to your neck, peppering it with soft kisses. a quiet groan left his throat as you thread your fingers through his dark brown hair. the playful kisses turned into gentle nips and bites, jake couldn't resist leaving a few pretty marks along your porcelain skin.

your hushed gasp was a contrast to the mostly quiet atmosphere as his hands had somehow ended up squeezing your backside. the action caused you to arch your back instinctively, making you grind against him.

"fuck." he whispered, gently guiding your hips in his lap. the slight friction was intoxicating.

"jake..." his name left your mouth in a quiet whisper as you leaned your forehead on his shoulder, letting your urges get the best of you.

"i know, baby" his hands slid lower to caress your inner thighs tenderly. he tried not to moan as his hips pushed upward involuntary, amplifying the friction between you, while his boxers were becoming increasingly tight as his arousal strained against the fabric.

your lips found his once more, you were getting more desperate by the second and your mind was consumed purely with need for him. the material of his sweatpants felt soft under your fingers as you tugged subtly.

jake's breath hitched and his resolve crumbled almost immediately. he was a gone man, there was no going back now. breaking the kiss and muttering a quiet curse, he shoved his sweats and boxers down his hips in one swift motion. the rest was kicked off carelessly, leaving him completely bare under you. his hard length stood heavy against his stomach, flushed and leaking.

the sight made you want to faint on the spot, you had been so caught up chasing your lust and now it all felt real. you were still hovering on your knees, having lifted your hips to let him remove his remaining clothes.

but jake didn't plan on waiting around while you admired his erection, in a quick motion he flipped you over, pushing you against the pillows as he hovered above you. the view he had right now was almost enough to make him cum on the spot: you laid beneath him, sprawled out with messy hair and slightly swollen lips. not to mention some red marks he's left on your neck earlier (they definitely weren't the last either).

"you're so gorgeous, it's unfair."

before you knew it, he was kissing your shoulder, distracting you from the way his hand slid under your lacy panties. the gasp that left your lips was enough to let him know that you were surprised to feel his finger trail along your folds. god you were so wet he groaned out loud, opting to suck on your neck to keep himself quiet.

your arms darted to wrap around his neck once more as you felt him slide a finger into you. a broken moan left your lips, you bucked your hips into his hand, wanting to feel more of him.

"fuck, pretty, you're soaked" he murmured, his voice somewhat strained as he held himself back from shoving himself in fully and fucking you until you passed out.

"jake-" you couldn't speak properly even if you tried, especially not when another finger was pushed into you with ease. it was completely out of your control how your walls clenched around his diligently working fingers. "please..."

he could tell you were growing impatient and he knew exactly what you were asking for. as much as he longed to tease you and make you squirm under him as much as possible, his own arousal was consuming him whole.

after a few more pumps of his fingers, he pulled them out, earning a quiet whimper from you. he couldn't hold back a smirk, there was nothing that turned him on more than seeing you all desperate and needy for him, like you'd die if he didn't fill you up immediately. jake was pretty sure he'd never been as hard as he was right now in his entire life.

your panties were practically ripped off, not that you minded because that was the least of your concerns at the moment. you were completely focused on how jake grabbed your thighs and nudged them apart to position himself at your entrance.

he rubbed his tip against your aching clit, coating himself in your wetness and teasing you at the same time. "is this what you need doll? want me to fill you up?" he asked, his voice was low and laced with desire even with the obvious rhetorical question. he nudged inside, not giving you the full length yet as he moved his hands all over your body.

"yes! please jake, i need you" you whined shamelessly in response, tugging him closer with your hands on his back. there was no room for embarrassment, especially when you knew how much he was getting off from your begging.

he grunted in satisfaction at your response, pushing inside slowly until his hips pressed against yours. your gummy walls were tight and inviting, sucking him in with no effort. if jake thought he was close to losing it completely earlier, he was not ready for this moment. his entire body was tingling, senses heightened yet his brain completely gone, unable to form coherent thoughts.

"so good for me, i knew you could take it" he soothed your faint whimpers with a kiss on your forehead.

your eyes were glossy from the immense pleasure you felt with him just being buried to the hilt. the stretch was perfect, he filled you up perfectly without causing any pain.

after a moment of panting and moans, jake started to rock his hips, thrusting into you slowly. he wasn't sure how long he'd last with you being so perfect for him in every way.

"holy fuck..." he closed his eyes for a moment, desperate to keep himself together in favour of your pleasure and comfort. your soft moans and gasps didn't help his case one bit.

you couldn't stay quiet even if you tried, he was bringing you so much euphoria you swore you would explode. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he sped up his movements, pushing as deep as possible. "fuck, jake..."

"so vocal for me" he hummed against your ear, his breath tickling your skin and giving you goosebumps yet again, only heightening the growing pleasure. as he continued to thrust into you, his hand left your waist to grap one or your hands and hold it down against the mattress, fingers intertwining naturally.

a sudden pain shot through his body in result of your nails digging into the skin of his back, altering between scratching and holding on. but the feeling only turned him on more, urging him to pound into you even faster.

"you're doing so well angel, shit" jake knew he wouldn't last much longer, so he was very relieved to feel you squirm and clench around his dick.

"it's so much..." you muttered between moans, your senses were flooded and overwhelmed by now. you swore you could see stars every time you felt his tip push against your cervix, his movements were painfully precise. "i'm close, jake"

you calling his name out so sweetly was music to his ears. he kissed your cheek and spoke in a strained voice yet again, "me too, you gonna come for me princess? hm?"

it was a miracle that you even lasted this long, your adamant nods were only seconds prior to you clamping down on him hard. a mix of a moan and grunt was heard from jake as he let go of your hand to wrap his arms around your waist instead.

with a few more sloppy thrusts, his climax was just behind yours. his hair was tugged and you squeezed your legs tightly as his hips jerked. you were filled up by ropes of his thick seed, making your eyes roll back from the pleasure completely and moan his name like a prayer.

both your bodies were moulded against each other, only disrupted occasionally with your light squirms. jake stroked your hair gently, holding onto you like he was afraid you would disappear. after a few peaceful moments, he carefully pulled out and grabbed a clean tissue to help you clean up.

once you were both under the cover again, he didn't waste any time to pull you against his chest. "i'm here, i won't leave." he whispered sweet reassurances to you, caressing any part of you he could reach. you practically melted into his arms completely, his presence was beyond comforting for your exhausted self.

you muttered against his warm skin quietly, "thank you"

"for what?" he smiled sweetly, even though you couldn't see his face. here you were, thanking him when you had been the one to give him the best experience he could ever ask for.

"taking care of me."

"i would never neglect my baby."

his words were enough to paint a soft smile onto your tired face. it didn't take long for you to drift into a peaceful sleep, especially when you were cuddled up to him so snugly. jake's heart swelled at how cute you looked in his arms. he couldn't ask for more, all he'd wanted was to take care of you and he finally got the chance, he wasn't going to hesitate or be a coward with you ever again.

a/n: so. i just wanted to try out writing smut but this is gonna be my first and last time because WTFF IS THIS LMAO

i'm sticking to smaus i can't write for the life of me

songs for this fic:

tags:@vivimura@s1rawb3rry@who-tf-soddhi@laurradoesloveu@p1hbrook@hoonielvv@nodoubtily@enhamonsterghoul@heebambilee@en-chantedtomeetyou@hsbae@jellyluv4eva@vivissection@beigerin@jwywife@elairah@heekilrvs@jayjw16enxp@lakoya@ijustreallylike2read@annovaz@strawberrynull@abbyeey@celestiai0@enhalxvr@llearlert@raizennloll@rizzmura@sabriochee@sol3chu@fluveriiez@kitty-won07@sucrosxi@kukkurookkoo@mimisxs@darquette@hhyvsstuff@lovelydeliciousfestival@luciathcv@bigwforjay@pshfan0812@lov4hoon@jaerisdiction@kireiinahana@abzyissupersleepy@madslove-enhypen@b3tt7boop@dodot04lover@ki2rins@sugarikiz ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ

[secret-moonstruck]

WAKE ME UP | ENHYPEN

— Pairing: enhypen x fem!reader | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: You decide to wake them up in a special way.

— Genre: smut

— Warnings: oral sex, praising, making out, begging, cum eating.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories.

Heeseung: It hadn't been long since you had gone to sleep when you woke up feeling Heeseung hard against you, for a moment you were surprised, then you remembered one of his fantasies so you couldn't help but smile.

Carefully not to wake him you turned to face him, then started pumping his member but then a better idea came into your mind when you heard him moan. Turning on top of him, mounting him, rubbing against his erection, you were startled when suddenly his hands grabbed your waist tightly and your body was thrown against the bed. Not long after, you were already a mess of moans and tears as he fiercely pushed himself inside you.

Jake: You heard that Jake went to practice earlier than the others so you decided to surprise him. But when you entered the room you saw him sleeping, he was so tired that instead of practicing he ended up sleeping while watching the choreography video. You decided to give him a gift to cheer him up. Sitting next to him you ran your hands down his body until you reached his pants, touching him slowly with gentle movements, feeling him get excited you moved closer to kiss his lips, he woke up confused, but soon let out a moan when he felt your hands.

- Please continue Y/N. - He said, laying his head back on the sofa. 

His hand now directly pumping his exposed member, bending over him using his mouth to finish the job, which didn't take long.

He was very happy with his gift, when the members arrived they were surprised that he was so excited and willing to rehearse.

Jay: It was quiet on the plane, everyone was asleep, but you were bored. As you watched Jay something popped into your mind. With a smile you slid your hand under the blanket that was on his lap, sneaking into his pants and boxers, before long he was already hard under your touches, but your little play didn't last long, soon you felt a tightness around you wrist, when he looked at your eyes, a shiver run through your body.. You rarely saw him with that expression, and when you did, you knew you were in trouble. 

- Again being dirty in public, you know very well what happens when you do that, don't you?

And yes you knew it, he would punish you until he made you cry. Your legs shook in anticipation as he dragged her to the back of the plane. Before being pushed into the bathroom you saw the flight attendant's irritated look, but you didn't have time to feel embarrassed. 

Sunghoon: You were going to spend the day together, so you went to the dorm early but he was still sleeping.

When you entered his room a smile appeared on your face, he was sleeping so fully that you felt a little guilty for the thought that invaded your mind, but he himself said he found it interesting, why not?

Silently you sat on the bed next to him, your hands sliding under the cover until you reached him, slowly you began to caress him, it didn't take long for him to be extremely hard in your hands, as he moaned in his sleep. You watched as his eyes slowly opened, how his shocked expression was soon replaced by a dirty smile.

- A good way to wake up. - He said pulling her for a kiss.

The way he seemed more wild and aggressive made you realize that you were going to pay dearly for your little joke.

Sunoo: When you woke up and heard a low moan you ignored it, but when you heard it again but this time your name you froze. 

When you turned around you saw your boyfriend still sleeping, his expression tense, then you heard another groan. Then a smile appeared on your face… was that perverted little boy having a dirty dream about you? As soon as the thought arose you were already under the covers, with him in your mouth, moans coming from him more frequently, even in his dream he moved wanting more, soon you felt him tense up and noticed that he was waking up. You looked at him as he removed the covers in surprise.

- Y/N...what are you...? - He tried to speak but instead another moan left his lips. 

It didn't take long for him to come in you mouth.

- Um… Thank you for breakfast. - You said after swallowing everything. His expression was priceless, but also dangerous.

Jungwon: The movie was halfway through when you noticed that Jungwon was sleeping, he insisted on watching and fell asleep, you rolled your eyes in annoyance. When you remembered him saying something about being woken up in a special way, you thought it might be a good way to get your “revenge”.

To confirm that he was sleeping you slowly began to touch him over his sweatpants, while massaging his member you smiled as he became hard under your touch, when you heard him moan you pulled his pants along with his boxers showing off his erection.

Your tongue running along his length, when you licked the tip you felt a hand on your head.

- Really a bitch. You didn't even wait for me to wake up.. - Before pushing himself into her mouth

Niki: You were on a trip to the beach with your friends. Apart from Jay who was driving everyone had slept. Your hands were intertwined with Niki's under a blanket you always took with you on trips. As he slept he ended up pulling his hand further up into his lap, a light went on in his head. Releasing his hand you began to slowly massage him still over his pants, you felt him getting excited and continued touching him, a moan left his lips and you froze when Heeseung who was on the bench in front of you looked back. You pretended to be distracted looking away, he ignored you and turned back.

Not long after, he let out another moan but this time louder, this time everyone turned to you, at the exact moment he woke up and groaned again. Pulling back your hand you wanted to disappear in embarrassment while they complained about you being dirty.

— Note2: Sorry if it's not good, I'll try to improve it.

[plethorawrites]

How the Batboys would react to finding out and dealing with you self harming/having severe depression.

TW: Mentions of cuts, blood, suicidal thoughts, incorrect use of pills, sort of implied eating disorders.

Please don't read if this could upset you in any way.

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Bruce:

The first time he notices is also the first time you spend the night. The lights were dark and you were both a bit buzzed after downing several glasses of champagne to endure a boring event he invited you to as an excuse to see you. Of course he was more concerned with kissing the inside of your thighs than noticing the little healed scars on them.

He notices them the next morning though, when the sun is streaming through the window and you get up to find your clothes while assuming he's asleep. He wasn't. He saw the marks. The scars. He refrained from saying a word about them, waiting weeks for you to open up about them on your own terms. He could see they were healed so he wasn't terribly worried at that moment.

When you finally told him, you said you'd been clean for months. He had no reason to suspect you would start again.

But you did.

He didn't know the exact day, or the specific reason, all he knew is that you stopped wearing shorts to bed and stopped letting him leave the lights on to see you when you were intimate. You stopped smiling as often, too.

Of course, being a detective, he can tell when you start getting lethargic, not from work or stress but simply life itself. He hears when your words have less meaning, and your expressions are false. He makes it his mission to not let you fall into the spiral any more than you already have.

You might not want to tell him you're hurting yourself but he'd be damned if he didn't do whatever he could to make you stop. That started by holding you tighter at night so you couldn't sneak off to the bathroom to cut, he'd ask you to visit him at work, insist on every meal being at a restaurant so you didn't even have time to try to hurt yourself. And of course, he helps with the tasks you start struggling with, but pretends he doesn't notice.

He just says "Can I practice braiding your hair so I can help Cassandra?" and use it as a chance to make sure you don't start letting your hair tangle.

He even makes the braid a bit crooked even though he can French braid perfectly, just to sell it. He'll wash it, too, claiming it's: "A good excuse to spend time together." after a long day.

He just wants to make sure it's not getting greasy. He can see the guilt on your face when you sit in the tub, staring at the wall. You wanted to tell him to stop, that you could wash your own hair. But you probably couldn't. It felt like too much work and you just wanted to sink underneath the water of the tub for a few minutes of peace. He kept you upright though, kissing the back of your shoulder, the side of your neck, your cheek, making you hum.

You weren't able to feel much, emotionally speaking, but you could feel gratitude and love.

When he notices you skipping meals because you can't drag yourself to the kitchen or bother to cook, he will. He'll make anything, even if you change your mind about what sounds good and make him cook six different dishes before eventually accepting one of them. He doesn't care. He just wants you to eat. The second you show the slightest bit of interest in something, anything, it's yours. You make a comment about the beach sounding nice, the next thing you know he's taken the day off work and is driving you there with the top of a convertible down.

You say you kind of miss one of your old hobbies— be it painting or crochet, it doesn't matter what, the next day the nicest stuff for you to get back into it arrives. Fresh paints, massive canvases or imported yarn and crystal hooks. He watches, intently when you start to focus on something you like again, the heavy ache in his heart subsiding when he gets to show enthusiasm about your project when it's done.

You start holding him again at night, your face buried in his chest instead of sleeping facing the wall. One night you slide into bed wearing shorts and he can see your scars, red ones among the old faded pale ones from when you first met.

He knows they'll heal too in time. Just like you have.

---

Dick: He doesn't realize there's anything wrong several months into dating you until he catches you taking some pills when he was walking back into the room and later searched up the name, figuring out they're antidepressants.

He can't believe he didn't see it sooner and hates that you were always putting on a fake smile with him. He wants you to talk about it, but understands that it's hard for you too and your every attempt to open up to him ends with you in tears or walking out in frustration because the words won't form.

He suggests (very strongly) that you see a therapist and after some gentle coaxing, you agree. He sits in the car the entire time waiting for you and when you come out, numb for a few minutes as you sit there in silence before sobbing uncontrollably for the 20 minutes in the parking lot. He gets you whatever you want after— ice cream, cheesecake, brownies. Whatever you're craving.

He takes you every week, sometimes multiple times a week. He never complains and he's ALWAYS there. He'll wake up early, even if he barely slept. He'll skip family lunch, he'll rush out of a bank robbery just shouting for his brothers to handle it without him. It doesn't matter what, he'll be there.

He's taken to heavy positive affirmations, as well. He puts sticky notes up in the bathroom with smiley faces for whenever you brush your teeth or put on moisturizer. There are little hearts and words of encouragement on the front of the fridge and inside of it too for when you manage to crave a snack. Hopefully something healthy like fruit, but even if it's junk food, it's better than an empty stomach.

Every morning he wakes you up and tells you you're beautiful and he's grateful to have you.

He likes to remind you not to push yourself as well. "If you just manage to wash your hair, you'll have done something" and "If that's too hard, I'll help you make the bed." But also..."If you don't do anything at all today, you still survived. That alone is difficult, but you're doing it."

Every night he lays it on even thicker because he knows it gets harder at night. "I'm so proud of you for making it through another day." And... "I know it sucks right now but I promise I'll help you get through this." And... "Just take it one day at a time."

When you get homework from your therapist— to do 3 hard tasks over one week, make a list of every negative and positive thought to see them out loud and deduce why you have them, physical exercise—he does it with you. No matter how foolish or seemingly simple it is.

Your therapist told you to do something you struggle with? Done. He'll stand behind you while you do the dishes and help you dry.

You need to get something from a store that's dozens of miles away? Road trip. He'll buy the snacks and take turns driving so you don't het stressed out burn out.

You're told to get some physical exercise? He'll be your partner for whatever kind you want to do. Jogging in the park, keeping a slower pace than usual for you, practicing on rings while you climb the stairmaster—he falls, because he's distracted by your ass. But that's besides the point.

When you start to show signs of feeling better, that therapy is working, he's elated. And after several months and things are better, much better, you tell him whenever you're feeling off. Whenever that nagging feeling comes back over you. You guys work through it then and there to keep it from getting bad again.

Though sometimes, when he's leaving for work, you'll pout and say you feel sad just to get him to stay. You both know it's not a depressed feeling. You just don't want him to leave and he'll indulge you. "Oh, well, if that's the case, I'll just have to stay in bed with you until you feel better."

---

Jason: He's busy. Always. But that didn't mean he was oblivious. Yet, that's exactly how he felt when he realized you'd been abusing your medicine. He knew after the first few dates that you were on medication for chronic depression and he was more than understanding about it. Millions of people suffered from it, himself occasionally included.

But when he's laying in bed and catches you sneaking into the bathroom to take three more pills than you're supposed to, he's caught off guard. Then you slide down to the floor, sitting crisscrossed, making small cuts on your thighs, wincing in pain the entire time. It takes every ounce of self control not to jump out of bed and rip the blade from your hand. He contemplates it, he really does. But that would just make things worse. So he waits.

It keeps him up all night, though he pretends to sleep. And in the morning, you're back out of bed, taking more and sliding back in bed, pretending to wake up just like him.

He blames himself entirely.

He thinks he should have been better, done more, noticed something that made it better. It was his job to support you and protect you and he had failed and that killed him in ways that seemed unimaginable.

After an incredibly difficult conversation where he confesses to knowing you've been filling scripts you don't need and taking more than necessary, you're both an emotional mess. But he assures you he's not leaving or angry, just scared for you. He wants to help but needs you to let him.

He absolutely dedicates himself to keeping you away from anything even remotely dangerous.

The knives in the kitchen? Gone.

Even the butter knives are plastic now.

The razors in the bathroom? Thrown out in a trashcan outside so you couldn't find them.

Even the little blade in the pencil sharpener is taken out.

He won't let you have your pill bottles either, at least not at first. He makes sure you take them everyday, morning and night, then after several weeks starts to let you handle them by yourself.

He still sneaks out of bed to count them and make sure you weren't taking more than prescribed. He insists on being the one to wrap your arms, cleaning them to make sure they don't get infected. And wiping your legs as well. He has to remind himself not to squeeze them too hard, the way he wants to.

While holding you at night he makes sure not to hurt them, even though he wants to hold you much tighter to comfort himself as reassurance you're alright. He listens, late at night when you're whispering to avoid crying. When you explain the feeling it gave you. He knows it.

Once they heal and he can hold you tighter, not as afraid of hurting you by squeezing your thighs the way he likes to. He starts kissing them each night, making sure you know they're not embarrassing or shameful.

He's got scars on most of his body; you were the one to teach them to appreciate them. If he could return the favor, he would. A thousand times over.

He tells you the same things you told him. "You made it through."

---

Tim: When you tell Tim, and by tell I mean confess after he figured it out on his own, you're surprised to find that he doesn't have much of a reaction immediately. He stays quiet, hums a little, nods along. He never interrupts but you see his eyes glazing over a bit, the way they do when the gears start turning in his head. He knew, of course, that you had depression.

He knew you hurt yourself, not in the traditional way of cutting or attempting suicide, but in much subtler ways, like forcing yourself to finish a meal even though you're full and your stomach hurts, taking boiling hot showers that leave your skin red and raw practically painful to even touch from how dry it is, making yourself stay up late and function on the fewest hours of sleep possible.

You purposely made life harder for yourself and for the most part, didn't even realize it. He did, though. What he didn't realize was the amount of medicine you'd tried, to the point you felt none of them worked, the amount of therapists and psychiatrists you had seen, the level of depression you had truly sunk to before. It hurt him to realize once you started opening up. He wanted to make that pain go away. So, he researched. Constantly.

He wants to know every single thing that can cause depression, the statistics of self harm leading to suicide, the effectiveness of different treatments or facilities. He knows every antidepressant, their side effects, their manufacturers, and dosages. He suggests inpatient care for you, but absolutely refuses to send you to someplace like Arkham.

Instead, he finds the best of the best, way out of the city, where the entire staff passed his background check, the facility was up to date on every code possible, and the rules seemed relaxed enough to let you feel like yourself while also making sure you're safe. He's allowed to visit and does so as soon as possible, even manages to get extra hours in the night. You have the best of care there, too, he knows because he can see it on your face every time he's there.

The food is wonderful, the private room you have is nice (even if you miss his warmth at night), the activities they make you do remind you of the hobbies you used to love before they became unbearable. Even therapy sessions, always private because Tim knew you wouldn't want to speak about it in a group, are rather helpful.

When you get out after a few weeks, he's right there, waiting, like always. And he's got the biggest smile because he can see immediately the light back in your eyes that he missed so much. He keeps up with some of the tactics you learned or hobbies you started while there, gladly sitting on the floor with you while you do paper mache.

He always makes sure you know you're not weak for needing help and if you ever feel like you need to go back, even just for a week, or weekend, he'll be there for you. Just like always.

---

(Aged up. I imagine you both in LOA)

Damian: It didn't take a genius to know you were a miserable person. Most people in the league of assassins were. He rather liked your level of misery, usually. It was cynical, with a touch of wit and dark humor that always made him feel seen.

It wasn't until he caught sight of a few scars on your calf that he didn't recognize that he started to realize you were more miserable than he had originally thought. You tried to play it off, claiming you got hurt in a sparring match. But that was a lot and he knew it. Because A) you never lost. And B) the cut was at an angle a sword wouldn't be able to reach unless you were the one holding it.

You clearly didn't want to talk about it, so he wouldn't make you. He was always taught that emotions were weak and even though he didn't fully believe it as he used to, he still isn't big on a lot of sentimentality. Which is fine, because you aren't either.

He still keeps a quiet, very close eye on you. Maybe you noticed, maybe you didn't. He wasn't sure. He didn't care either way. He was worried and with your recent behavior, he felt he had every right to be. You started putting in less effort during training, if you even showed up at all. He'd find you on the balcony at night, leaning your head against the railing and staring at the gardens with a blank expression.

Even the things he knew you loved— your favorite foods, the music you liked to listen to on a record player while you got ready for bed. It stopped appealing to you. The meticulous way you'd fix your hair before bed every single night abruptly stopped, too. You simply fell asleep with it as is and woke up with it tangled. You still held him at night, but it felt less like an embrace for the both of you and more like you were clinging to him like a life line.

He pays extra close attention and anytime he isn't allowed to be by your side, he makes sure someone else is. It's hard to keep you away from sharp objects, given nearly everything around them was a weapon, but he tries to get you to vent your rage by cutting training dummies and not yourself.

He also takes you to the quieter, more secluded wing, into an empty room with pillows on the floor. He makes you sit with him and meditate, which he knows is hard at first, boring and you don't have the most energy, but he holds your hand, his fingers pressed to your pulse to make sure you're listening when he tells you to take a deep breath in and think— not of what you're grateful for, like some might suggest. No. Instead of asking you what you want to live for, he asks you what you can't die without. The grudges you're holding, the projects you haven't finished, the people who are just waiting to see you fail. He won't let you let them win.

And it works. That passion and drive slowly comes back with his help and support at your side, doing your hair for you at night and making sure someone brought you a meal three times a day even if he wasn't around to make sure you ate. Your need to be the best and spite anyone who thinks you aren't returns after a while.

One night he finds you training alone, sweat dripping from your brow, your scars both won in battle and self inflicted on display. Instead of interrupting, he simply watches, admiring your form which had improved since you started picking up your sword more often. He loved watching you find your spirit again.

[captain-huggy-bear]

A Little Misunderstanding

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lil' angsty at points, but ends sweet, lots of mutual pining and two idiots not realising the other is also in love with the other, meddling mothers (for the best this time)

Summary: Your parents assume that Quinn, the man you mention over the phone all the time, is in fact your boyfriend. He's very much not, but Quinn thinks its funny to pretend he is...until it gets a little too real and maybe some truths are told and feelings are aired.

Notes: Thank you to the anon who requested fake dating to lovers with Quinn, I had this idea which is a little different from the usual fake dating so I hope its okay and you still like it 😊

Tried to keep it ambiguous as to where the reader originated from so that us UK girlies can relate as well as anyone else not from Vancouver and/or Canada.

Reminder I typically use UK spellings because I'm English so...don't come at me if you wish I spelt it the US away. If I have to read US spellings all the time, you can handle the odd UK spelling

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

"When does your flight get in?" You balance your phone between your shoulder and ear, picking up a stray sock that had fallen out of your laundry basket as you attempt to tidy your apartment.

"7am your time, sweetheart, remember?" Your mother's voice rings clear down the line, familiar and warm. It's been a while since you saw either of your parents. You having moved all the way to Vancouver, more miles than you could count from your birthplace and hometown around two years ago. You were excited to have them finally able to come out and stay with you for a week, they'd never been to see you, and it had been a while since you'd been able to see your parents, not having time to fly to see them. While you were glad for the move to Vancouver, living in a completely different place away from your family wasn't always the easiest thing in the world. You so often felt like you were having to fend for yourself without much of a support network. Luckily you'd made some good friends in the time you'd been in Van.

"Quinn offered to come with me to pick you and dad up, we'll be there waiting for you so don't worry about getting an Uber." You dropped Quinn's name casually because that's what it was, he was just another part of your existence. Your friend, who admittedly you had a small crush on, but just your friend nonetheless. Just because you thought he was beautiful and wanted to kiss him didn't mean you were allowed to kiss him or that he'd even want to kiss you. He was a friend who happened to be a man and you both happened to be single. This had not changed for two years and wasn't likely to any time soon.

"Oh, Quinn'll be there?" Your mother's voice was suddenly more upbeat, excited. She'd been eager to meet Quinn for months now, you're not sure why she finally took an interest in one of your friends but you can't help but be glad. Quinn had become a massive part of your life, a support network you very much needed when you'd first come to a strange new place all by yourself. He was part of the fabric of your life now, and you knew he'd charm your parents without even thinking about it. It shouldn't matter to you that your parents like your friend, its not like Quinn was your boyfriend, but it did matter to you. You wanted them to like him as much as you did because you wanted him around for the foreseeable future.

"Yeah, I mentioned you were coming to visit the other day and his car is bigger than mine, so he offered to come along, he has to get up early most days anyway so he's not too bothered by it." It helped that Quinn had a couple of days off, but still you were thankful. He could have spent his rare enough free time doing something much more enjoyable than helping you pick your parents up from the airport.

"Your father and I look forward to meeting him, we've heard so much about him, darling!"

There's something about your mother's tone that makes you stop for a second suddenly feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. Maybe it's just how eager she is or maybe it's something else, but there's a little red flag waving in the back of your mind with some small print on that you just can't quite read yet.

"Right...um, look I'll see you tomorrow morning then? I gotta get everything ready for you guys."

"Of course, of course! We love you!"

"Love you too, mum."

"You're sure you don't mind?" You look over at Quinn from the passenger seat, the two of you look exhausted, big bags under your eyes and even bigger hoodies to hide in because a 5am wake up to get to the airport in time was just a little much for both of you. This early in the morning it's still dark and the streetlights do something to Quinn's face that makes him even more handsome than usual, even as he looks like he might fall back asleep at any minute. It doesn't help that his scruff has grown out or that his hair is in those perfect waves he always seems to get even when he's just taken his bucket off.

"I wouldn't have offered if I did, besides the amount of time we spend together isn't it about time I met your parents? You've met mine." He smiles over at you, cheeky, the sort of Quinn most people didn't see. It's silly that it makes your cheeks feel warm, he's just your friend. You shouldn't be flustered by him.

"Your parents are at as many of your games as possible, of course I've met them."

"So are you. Sue me for wanting to meet the parents of one of my best friends."

"I'm your best friend?" You lean your head back on the headrest, tilting slightly to grin at him all silly. Quinn can see it from the corner of his eye and as much as it's ridiculous, that little grin makes you even more beautiful than normal.

"One of." He rolls his eyes at you, partly because of your silliness and partly rolling his eyes at himself. You're his friend. He shouldn't feel this way about you, men can have female friends...he just can't seem to have you as a female friend without wanting to kiss you at any given opportunity. It's becoming difficult, even more so in the early morning when the low light level puts your face in stark contrast and your hoodie, one of his, makes you look so cozy and sweet.

"That's just your way of avoiding admitting how much you love me and need me in your life."

Quinn's cheeks flush bright red, so bright that even the low light can't hide it nor hide the way he bites back a smile at you, eyes fixed on the road and the last few miles to the airport.

"...Shut up."

The silence that fills the car is comfortable, the sort that comes about from spending so much time together. You have friends that aren't Quinn, of course you do, but Quinn had been your first friend in Vancouver. He'd shown you around and made time for you in his incredibly busy schedule. You were often the first person he saw when he came off a roadie and the last person to see him before he left for one. There were nights when you stayed round Quinn's after a game or vice versa. You spent so much time together that you simply coexisted, being around Quinn was as easy as breathing. You rarely argued or disagreed and when you did it was always resolved properly. You simply worked. There wasn't ever much to think about with Quinn. You could just...shut off.

"Thank you, though...seriously." You take a moment, thinking how to word your next few thoughts, your warning as the signs for the airport come into full view, "Just, my mum seems really eager to meet you so...just brace yourself."

"Eager?"

"You know when your parents are excited to meet a new partner?" You think back to the few times you'd introduced a boyfriend to your mum, the excitement that she exuded...it was starting to concern you that she was that excited to just meet your friend. Because that's all Quinn was. Your friend. Not your boyfriend. Your friend, you remind yourself, even as he looks so good smiling over at you with his beard. He'd let it grow out just enough that he looked rugged and mature.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, she's that sort of excited which is really weird...she normally doesn't' care that much about my friends. Just, sorry, if she's really weird about it?" It's awkward enough talking about, you and Quinn have always stayed firmly platonic, you didn't talk about the fact that people assumed you were dating or even the concept of it. Talking about it felt...it felt like you were opening the curtains up, letting him see in a little too far.

"You didn't tell her we were married or something, did you?"

"Quinn! Shut up!" He laughs so loud that you can't actually be that mad at him, not when he's grinning at you like that, not when he's been so stressed as of late about the performance of his team. Even if it's at your expense.

"What? Just checking! For all I know you could have told her we got married in Vegas during one of my games or something?"

"If I'm telling my mum I'm married to you, it'll be because I'm actually married to you, you idiot." You roll your eyes at him, arms crossing over your chest as you turn to look out the window.

"Oh, so you do want to marry me?" He's joking, but he's not...he's thought about it. There's not a day that Quinn hasn't thought about what it would be like to be yours and you be his, not since he met you...and then promptly managed to land himself so far into the friendzone that he was scared to crawl his way out lest he leave you behind in the process.

"...I hate you."

"No you don't." His voice is singsong in intonation and sweet and he's right because you love him and it hurts...god, it hurts how much you love someone you can't have. Someone you see every day, someone who is so deeply ingrained in your life that removing him would be like carving a hole into your own chest.

You just sit and glare at him, even as a heavy sort of sadness hits, as he pulls up into one of the parking bays for collecting passengers.

It's okay that he's just your friend, you remind yourself as you get out of the car. It's okay because he's the best friend you could ask for, he's here at 6.45 am in the morning to collect your parents from the airport, not because he was asked or because he had to, but because he wanted to. You can live with loving him in silence, so long as you always have him around.

"I think they're over this way, probably, near gate 1?" You're just getting your bearings, trying to figure out roughly where your parents will come out at after they find their things from baggage claim when you hear it.

"My baby!" The squeal of a middle aged woman who hasn't seen her daughter in far too long pierces the air. You barely have time to brace yourself for impact before your mother is wrapping you up in a gigantic hug and pressing as many kisses to your face as possible, you know without a doubt her signature mauve lipstick is smudged all across your skin.

Your father stands behind her, rolling his eyes in amusement but the smile he gives you is no less warm, "Hey there, princess."

"Hi, mum, hi, dad," You pull yourself free from your mother just long enough to get a long awaited hug from your father, big and warm and so familiar that you almost feel like crying. How long has it been since you last hugged your dad? Half a year? Nine months? Longer? You sometimes don't realise how much you miss something until you get it back.

When you turn back around your mother is already pulling Quinn into a hug that he accepts, if a tad awkwardly, his hands patting her on the back like he's not quite sure how hugs work.

She has his face in her hands before you can intervene, overly familiar and friendly as she grins up at him like he's made her day just by existing. "You must be Quinn, Y/N's boyfriend..."

"Oh, he's n-" You're pretty sure your eyes bug out of your head, startled by the suggestion because at no point in the last few years of living in Vancouver had you ever called Quinn your boyfriend. Ever.

You're cut off by Quinn who's grinning at you wickedly over the top of your mother's head like he's just been giving the greatest Christmas present he could ever ask for and in that moment you know...you know that he is going to make your life very difficult with this tiny piece of information.

"Yeah, hi, nice to meet, the boyfriend, that's me." God, he wishes it was true. There's nothing more he wants in that moment than to be able to say to your mom that you are 100% his girlfriend, but he can't...he can, however, enjoy the roleplaying while it lasts. He can't really stop himself, not when you look so aghast at your mother calling him your boyfriend, not when he can use this to tease you for at least the next 30 years. He grew up with 2 brothers, sue him for taking advantage of the situation.

"Quinn!"

"What? Am I not allowed to call myself your boyfriend anymore?" He sidles up to you, slipping out from your mother's grip to pull you into his side. His arm rests naturally over your shoulder, yours finding his waist, and it is natural...because you've done this a million times before. The kiss he presses to your hair is new though, different and as much as your mum clearly believes the ruse, you can see your father just looks amused. Something tells you he knows this is all an act, but he finds it enjoyable to watch. Typical. No support from him when you need it most. Dads.

"Oh, she's just grouchy in the mornings, has been ever since she was a baby!" Your mother looks at the two of you with such pride that you're certain her heart actually might break when she finds out Quinn isn't actually your boyfriend. You've never seen her look so happy with your choice in a man before and you're certain she won't be able to cope when you have to inevitably tell her that it was either a) a lie or b) that Quinn just wasn't the guy for you (another lie just to make your life more complicated).

"Mum!"

"Oh don't worry, I know just how grouchy my baby can be in the mornings." This time he presses a kiss to your cheek and when he does, you hiss lowly in his ear, 'I'm going to kill you.' and Quinn can't help but laugh at you, biting his lip at how much fun he's having riling you up.

"Here let me take your bags, Mrs Y/L/N," Quinn's bending down before your mother can even begin to protest, her carry on backpack being slung over his shoulder and pulling up the handle of her suitcase to wheel it behind him.

"Oh, you don't have to, Quinn!"

"I insist." He knows he's making it harder on you, can see the look you give him because he's just going to make your mother fall in love with him. But, even as he enjoys riling you up, he was also raised right and he's not letting your mother carry her own bags.

Your mother hangs back with you while your father and Quinn start walking ahead with the suitcases. She slips her arm through yours walking with you to keep up, as she does so she does a very bad attempt at whispering. The sort of whispering that means you know Quinn can hear every word and is probably enjoying it immensely.

"He's such a gentleman..."

"Yeah, a real gentleman." You mutter sarcastically, watching the way his shoulders rise and fall in a silent laugh that he's no doubt doing his best to swallow down.

"Don't be grumpy, he's just being sweet on you. You should be glad for such a loving boyfriend..." Your mother scolds you before raising her voice back to normal, Quinn and your father slowing down slightly to help keep the four of you together, "So, Quinn, my daughter tells me you're a hockey player?"

"Yeah, you talk about me, baby?" Quinn's grin is wide, and you can't help the warmth that fills your entire face because you can't actually deny it. You talk about Quinn all the time, he's your best friend and whenever your mother phones, you inevitably talk about him. Whether it was a game of his you went to or a coffee place you'd visited together or gala he'd invited you to. Maybe, you talked about him too much? Maybe, it was obvious in the way you talked about him that you loved him? Maybe that's why your mother had made such a large assumption about your relationship status. Maybe this was your fault, why wouldn't she assume you were dating?

"She talks about you all the time. Quinn this, Quinn that...did you know that Quinn did this today and broke this record?"

"Mum..." You groan out, looking to your dad for help but all he does is shrug his shoulders at you, amusement bright in his eyes. Even if he could do something you know he wouldn't because he's clearly enjoying your torture.

Quinn can't help it, the tables seem to reverse. You're embarrassed still, but now he is too, bright red in the face, ears flushed the colour of a fire engine and a hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. All because you talk about him to your parents...you talk about him when he's not around...he feels like a twelve year old, giddy because his crush smiled at him for the first time.

"I play for the NHL."

"Vancouver Canucks, wasn't it?" Your mother asks as the four of you step out into the cold Canadian air, her attention making Quinn squirm and you smile, enjoying the discomfort being swapped around for a moment.

"Yeah, I'm the captain of the team." He smiles at your mother awkwardly as he opens the boot of the car and starts to pile in the suitcases, organising them in just the right way that they fit without hassle.

Your father chimes in as he lifts his own suitcase into the back, Quinn helping him shove it back further, "That's impressive, I used to play field hockey myself, never got out of the amateur league but got a few bruises in my time. You had an injury recently right?"

You still remember phoning your mum to talk about it, at first worried and then over time growing more and more frustrated with how sullen Quinn was being. He'd grown restless from not being able to play hockey and you'd been his distraction, a distraction that had grown fed up with his moping no matter how much you loved him.

"I've had a few this year, most recently my hand." He raises his braced hand, the brace a point of annoyance to him at this point in time. He was itching to be done with it, but put up with it because it meant he could still play hockey at the moment.

"Oh, you shouldn't have been carrying my bag then, Quinn!" Your mother fusses over him, flapping about as if she might have a miracle cure for his hand injury.

"Honestly, it's fine! It looks worse than it is, I promise. I wouldn't get away with it otherwise, this one would kill me." He nods his head at you as he closes the boot, opening one of the backdoors for your mother to slide inside.

"Damn right I'd kill you, I cannot take more days of you moping that you can't play hockey and that you're bored despite my amazing company."

"You know I enjoyed spending time with you, sweetheart...but..."

"But, you can't live without hockey, yeah, I know..."

He follows you round to the passenger side door, opening it for you like a gentleman and letting you slide inside. You find yourself enjoying the attention even as you catch your mother's eye in the rear view mirror, a little smirk reaching her lips as she watches Quinn buckle you in. Something he does from time to time when he's feeling particularly sweet...because he was a good friend.

"So, Quinn, how did you meet our daughter? I'm not sure she ever mentioned it?"

The entire ride home is filled with your mother peppering Quinn with questions, encouraging him to talk more and more about your 'relationship'. Everything from when you first met to the first date you went on (which Quinn told her was the first time he took you ice skating, you were under the impression that that was a friendly family skate event and most certainly not a date).

The conversation lulls while you set your parents up in your spare bedroom, helping them settle themselves and showing them around your apartment. They hadn't ever seen it in person and they spent half the time cooing over your choices, the photos of family and friends on the wall, the ones of you and Quinn, as well as your mother checking your fridge and telling you to buy more vegetables.

It's as you're sitting down to a breakfast of pre-bought croissants and pain au chocolat that your mother restarts her question. This time even more invasive than the first.

"So Quinn, when did you know?"

"Mm? Know what?" Your best friend looks at your mother with furrowed brows, taking a sip of his orange juice and almost choking on it when she proceeds to clarify her question.

"When you loved my daughter."

There's a long beat of silence where your eyes stay fixated on your plate, watching your own hands intently as you spread Nutella inside your croissant, far too focused on that to be anything casual or calm. You're certain you're going to be sick because he doesn't love you but you love him and your poor mother is so oblivious and this...this is going too far, it feels like it's gone too far.

"Expected answer or honest answer?"

"Honest answer."

"The second week I knew her." Your head snaps up with a start only to find Quinn looking directly at you, green eyes crinkling softly at the corners. "She heard that I had been hurt on the ice the night before and she stormed round my apartment with a bunch of food, medicine and a blanket. Spent the whole day looking after me and making me watch 90s movies I hadn't watched growing up. No one outside my family had ever done that for me before...it made me realise that if I wasn't already in love, I would be pretty quick." You almost believe him, the way he looks at you, the way he speaks so softly. Almost.

You look down at your plate, tears welling in your eyes because you know he doesn't mean it. He's spinning a yarn for your mother and it hurts that he would go that far when you both know this is all some ruse he's decided to pull. You swallow hard and take a bite of your croissant, refusing to look at him for the rest of breakfast.

You won't meet his eyes until he goes to leave after breakfast, your parents hanging back so you can say goodbye to your 'boyfriend'.

"Mind if I come over after dinner? We could watch a movie with your parents?"

"Quinn..." You go to challenge him on his behaviour today, but the words won't come out.

"What?"

"Nothing...uh, sure, after dinner?"

"After dinner, baby."

You want to tell him off as he says it, as he presses a kiss to your cheek so your parents can see because you aren't his baby and he's hurting you. He's hurting you without realising it because you so desperately want to be his baby. But, you don't. You just watch him walk away down the corridor of your apartment building and out of sight before getting ready to show your parents around Vancouver for the day.

You try to put the whole thing out of your mind throughout the day, showing your parents the sights of Vancouver, including the arena...but it's hard when they keep bringing Quinn back up and asking about your feelings. They probe you for half the day and it's emotionally exhausting balancing the truth with the half-truth, even more so knowing that they're going to be just as disappointed as you are when they realise your relationship with Quinn is just a sham, a charade, a fake.

Eventually they seem to grow bored of talking about the topic, however, and dinner goes relatively smoothly, you taking them to a nice restaurant Quinn had shown you back in your first couple of months in Vancouver. Even that feels bittersweet though, filled with memories of the two of you dining together. You can't help but feel like the whole issue needs addressing as you get them back home and pop a film on ready for Quinn's arrival.

When he arrives he continues the act as if it isn't one, greeting you at the door with a kiss to the cheek and pulling you down onto the loveseat opposite your parents, curling one arm around your shoulders and urging you to lay against him, your cheek pressed into his chest. In some ways it's familiar, not an act, because you cuddle for movies all time, completely platonically of course, but both of you are touchy feely and it's always been part of your dynamic. In others though? The way he talks to you, the pet names, kisses to your hair, that is all new, all a way to show your parents he's the 'doting boyfriend', even though he's not your boyfriend at all.

Your parents lap it up, every now and then you catch them smiling at each other and then over to the two of you and you can't help but feel heavy with it. With this feeling of unrequited affection. You love Quinn, you've known that for a while now, but it was easy to be around him because you didn't need to address it. You could love him in silence and from afar...you had never considered how hard it would become when what you wanted most was being dangled in front of you like a carrot on a string.

Quinn has a similar dilemma going on in his own head. He's always known he loved you more than a friend, even when you barely knew each other...had he been braver he would have asked for your number for a date that first day, not so that he could show you around a new city as a 'friend'. But, he'd been a coward and since then he'd continued to be. He enjoyed every ounce of affection he got from you, every hug, every cuddle, ever time you held his arm at an event, all while feeling like that had to be enough...now he's had more? He's not sure it'll ever be enough, he's greedy for you. Greedy for your affection, your attention, greedy in the way he wants to keep kissing you, keeping calling you sweet names and greedy for the way you grow bashful. Greedy for more than just being your friend...he's given himself a taste of what life could be like and now he can't forget it.

It's halfway through the movie, your legs slung over Quinn's lap and his fingers carding through the ends of your hair when your parents stand with a groan from the other couch.

"Princess?" You lift your head to look at your father, who's stretching out his back after sitting for so long.

"Yeah, dad?"

"Your mother and I are getting a little tired...we're going to go to bed, if that's alright with you two?"

"Of course, don't let us keep you up." Quinn confirms your own thoughts as well, telling your parents it's not problem at all. It's all so...so domestic.

Your dad presses a kiss to the top of your head, as does your mother, before yourself and Quinn wish them goodnight. You wait until you see the door to the spare room start to close, not waiting for it to do so fully, before turning to Quinn. You pull out of his arms, the missing warmth of you an immediate loss to him, but it has him sitting up straight and taking you seriously.

Your face is sullen, sad, eyebrows pinched, mouth turned down into a frown and he's alarmed to see that your eyes are glassy like you might cry.

"Why on earth would you let my parents think we're dating? Why would you tell my mother you're in love with me?" You're certain you're going to cry, angry, frustrated and sad all in one. Lovesick because it hurts to hear him tell your mother he was in love with you when you know he's not.

"Why not?" He frowns at you, hands reaching out but you keep just out of reach as if touching him is the last thing you want. You've never shied away from Quinn's touch and he recoils, breathing a little heavier out of anxious worry that he's upset you, that he's fucked this up. Maybe you've been uncomfortable with his touch all day? Has he been making you uncomfortable all day? Is he one of those guys?

"Because we're not dating and you're not in love with me, Quinn. My mother is certain we're going to get married and I'll stop being an old spinster! You're getting her hopes up." The unspoken words lay heavy on your tongue, 'you're getting my hopes up', you want to say.

"Who said I didn't love you? Who said I didn't want to marry you?" The look he gives you isn't the cheeky one he's had all day, it's not joking or silly, it's dead serious. He scoots closer to you, but doesn't reach out for you this time. But, Quinn can't help but want to be close to you, to be drawn into your orbit, into your gravity.

"Quinn..."

"What?"

"You're being mean..." Your voice is filled with tears, wet, pathetic sounding and you choke back a sob as a tear falls down your cheek because he's being so mean...he can't dangle that in front of you, everything you've ever wanted, not when he doesn't actually mean it.

He realises in that moment that you don't believe him. You believe he's spent the entire morning and evening telling lies, saying that he loves you when he doesn't, that you're that important to him when you aren't. You believe he's being mean because you don't believe him, that the tears are because you think he's holding this thing, this idea out in front of you, only to snatch it away.

"Look, I said a lot today...but none of it was a lie." He can't help himself this time, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb wiping away that pesky tear that shouldn't have been there in the first place. It's the way you lean into his touch that brings him a sense of confidence, of relief, you wouldn't do that if you didn't want him touching you.

"I know our first date wasn't a date, just a stupid family skate I was too scared to ask you out to as more than just a friend. I wish it had been a date and I wish I had been brave enough from the start to tell you I didn't just want to be your friend."

"Quinn..."

"And I was telling the truth...when your mother asked me when I fell in love with you." He tugs you closer, until your legs are back over his lap and your practically sitting on top of him, arms wrapping around your lower back and pulling you closer. The way he stares up at you is nothing short of reverent.

"Q..."

"The second week we knew each other you came to look after me when no one else did...and I knew...I knew that I was going to love you and that I was stupid for not asking you out in the first place...but I was...I was too scared to say anything. I didn't want to lose my new friend...I thought..." He hesitates, tongue coming out to nervously brush against his bottom lip, capturing your attention like a magpie with a shiny button.

"You thought?" You're whispering, quiet as if to speak any louder might scare him, might disrupt this little bubble you've found yourself in.

"I thought having a tiny bit of you...any bit, was better than having none of you at all." Quinn confesses, shifting you on his lap as your legs fall either side of his hips until you're so close your noses brush.

"Is it?"

"It was...for a bit..." It's self-deprecating, sardonic, like he finds himself ridiculous, foolish.

"And now?"

"And now I've had a taste of what it's like to love you, to be able to kiss you and hold you...call you mine...and now I'm greedy and it's not enough...Baby, it'll never be enough."

"You...you love me?" It's like even after all of this, everything he's said, every tender touch, you still don't quite believe him. It's hard to believe that everything you've ever wanted is sat in the palm of your hand just waiting for you to capture it, to take it. That your feelings, the ones you believed were unrequited for two years, were actually returned all along.

"I love you...and...um, if...if you'll have me, maybe I could be your real boyfriend this time?" His face is bright red, so warm to the touch when you're fingers reach out to trace his cheeks that you're surprised he doesn't combust.

"I'd like that...I...I love you too,"

"So...I'm your boyfriend?" He says it like he doesn't quite believe it, the beauty mark on his cheek moving as he grins up at you giddy like a little kid getting his first bag of sweets.

"You're my boyfriend." You press a kiss to that beauty mark without overthinking it...because you can now, because now it's not a lie when you tell your parents he's your boyfriend, because now you're allowed to kiss him and hold him and tell him how much you love him.

"Fuck...that sounds good."

He can't help but just stare up at you from where you're straddling his lap. The healthy glow to your skin, the soft smile directed down at him, the way you seem to curl into him like you're not close enough even now. God, you're beautiful and you're his...you're finally his and he's yours and...and he can't comprehend that the thing he wanted to happen for so long has finally happened. What had he been scared of all this time? He could have been with you for two years, instead he'd squandered it out of fear...

"Quinn?" Your voice is soft, melodic, so so sweet that almost closes his eyes at the sound.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Kiss me?" You whisper as if it's shameful to ask, as if you've asked for something more sordid than a simple kiss...your first kiss together at that.

"Anything for my girl."

He's gentle in the way he cups your neck and jaw with one large hand, thumb pressing just below your jaw bone as he pulls you in. There's nothing rushed about the way Quinn presses your lips together, the smooth glide of his bottom lip against your top. Even the way his tongue brushes against your lip until you open up for him is slow, steady, adoring. You can't help the way you sigh into him, fingers gliding through dark chocolate strands, eyes closing shut with the sense of home, sense of relief that you find in him.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other, slow kisses, wandering hands, nothing too extreme, but a new found intimacy that you're finally allowed to indulge in before you curl back up together to watch the remainder of the movie. Watch being a loose term for what you're really doing.

"Did you know?" Your father turns his eyes away from the scene outside the spare bedroom, the way you're curled up in Quinn's arms like you were always supposed to be there. Neither of you realising that the spare bedroom door had never fully closed, both your parents eavesdropping like Samwise Gamgee.

"That they weren't actually together, dear?" Your mother looks sly and devious as she looks over at her husband. The face of the woman he loves, but also fears in equal measure.

"Yes."

"Of course I knew...but I figured they could both use a shove in the right direction, I mean, look at them?" Your parents both turn to watch the two of you, the way you curl up together on the couch is the epitome of young love. There's no real watching of a movie happening, instead Quinn's fingers are rubbing circles into your shoulder, while you look up at him lovingly from where you're curled against his chest. Every now and then he dips his head down to press a kiss against your forehead, and each time you giggle, face pressing briefly into his neck. The giddy feeling of a new, fresh love, making film watching the least of your interests.

"They just needed a little push." Both your parents smile at each other even as your father playfully scolds his wife, "You're a meddlesome woman."

"And you love me for it."

"Yes, yes I do."

Perhaps it took a bit of meddling, a fake misunderstanding, but that would be their little secret...at least for now. Your mother was rather looking forward to seeing you squirm in the future as you reveal the truth, that you hadn't actually been dating Quinn as long as you said. Yes, she certainly was happy to help, but she also was still your mother and lying to your mother was certainly not the done thing. A little squirming was good for you sometimes, but first, she'd let you enjoy the fresh bloom of love...and she'd go easy on you.

[minswriting]

Different Kinds of Treats - Roommate Spencer Reid x Reader

About: Spencer bakes brownies and walks in on reader masturbating and ends up maturbating to the thought of her. Later on, they end up fucking.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, mentions of addiction but nothing in detail, season 4 Spencer, porn without plot, Spencer bakes to relieve stress, roommate Spencer, masturbation (f & m), walking in on someone masturbating, protected sex (reader on birth control), no condoms, p in v, desperate and needy sex, whiny reader and whiny spencer, creampies. not proofread because I am sick and have a cold. we are raw dogging life man

Word Count: 2.3k

Baking was one of Spencer’s favorite things to do. It began about a year and a half ago when Spencer had decided to get clean. Any time he felt a craving, he’d look up a recipe. Any time he felt the biggest urge, he’d bake something. And slowly, that baking turned into a genuine passion for him where it was his favorite way to decompress after a long case.

And he adored how you were always so excited whenever he baked something.

You moved in about a year ago. Amidst Spencer’s withdrawals, he also felt as though his apartment was too lonely, too cold and that he needed someone to fill the space. That way, whenever he came home from a hard and long case, he could at least not be completely alone. He had posted an ad in the local newspaper and you were the first to respond. You were both the same age, you had a lovely career here in DC, he had Penelope do an extensive background check on you and you were completely clean. It all worked out, honestly. It also helped that you were very pretty but Spencer never allowed himself to admit that out loud.

The apartment was filled with a nice chocolatey aroma as Spencer had just finished baking brownies. He had gotten back from a long case last night and needed to decompress as he finally had a day off. It was a Saturday so he knew you didn’t have to work. Spencer waited for the brownies to cool before cutting a piece for you. He grabbed one for himself as well and made his way to your bedroom. He figured you were napping as it was two in the afternoon and you were still in bed. So what greater way to be woken up than by having brownies in your face?

When Spencer made his way to your bedroom, he gently and carefully opened the door, making sure not to drop the brownies. He had expected to be met with your sleeping form, slow breathing with your lips parted. Instead, he was met with your legs spread open with your fingers buried inside of you. Though he did get one part right. Your lips were indeed parted. Both pairs actually.

Spencer’s eyes widened at the sight. He stood there in shock, holding the brownies. The sight of you fucking yourself with your fingers made all the blood from Spencer’s head rush to his groin. You hadn’t even realized Spencer opened your door, too caught up in your own pleasure.

Your eyes opened and as you saw Spencer, you gasped out his name, “Spencer,” while trying to cover yourself up. Spencer gasped and quickly turned around.

“I-I’m so sorry,” He choked out as he was about to walk away before realizing he needed to close your door. He grabbed the door knob, closing your door with a slam as he rushed to his bedroom and slamming the door behind him. He still had the brownies in his hand. He placed them on top of his dresser before letting out an embarrassed groan. He hadn’t meant to walk in on you masturbating. His IQ of 167 was slashed as his brain was full of just images of you.

All he could think about was how your pussy was glistening, your fingers covered in your juices. Your chest had been moving up and down from the pleasure. The way you let out the tiniest whimpers. God, Spencer was aching. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. But he just couldn’t help himself.

“Damn it,” Spencer said to himself in frustration. “Your head is turning into a damn potato,” he said all while looking down at his cock as it strained in his pants.

He quickly undid his pants, standing in front of his dresser. He tugged his pants and boxers down, revealing his hard cock. Precum was already on the tip, showing just how much the whole scene turned him on. He didn’t bother teasing himself, feeling far too desperate to prolong the experience. He gripped his cock with his left hand, stroking himself hard and fast.

“O-oh fuck,” He moaned, unable to help the noise from escaping his lips as he thought about you. It really shouldn’t have affected him this much. Masturbation was a normal part of the human body and therefore, you were more than allowed to give yourself release. And yet, Spencer couldn’t help but wish it were him that could make you feel so good.

He thought about how you would taste. How it would feel to bury his head between your thighs and feel you cum on his tongue. Or how your walls would feel clenching on his fingers. And don’t even get him started on how you would feel on his cock. He wanted to fuck you so badly, to make you cum from his cock would literally be a dream.

Spencer whimpered, thumbing the tip of his cock as he stroked himself. His other hand gripped the edge of his dresser, eyes pinched shut as he thought about how much he wanted you and all the ways he would have you. He wanted to make you feel so good. And with a choked moan of your name, Spencer came in his hand so hard. He was grateful that he was holding onto the dresser as he most definitely would’ve fallen from how intense his orgasm was.

When he came down from his high, Spencer took a deep breath, opening his eyes as he looked down at himself. His cum had landed on the dresser, himself, and his hand. He felt guilty at getting off at you. You were his roommate, one of his closest friends. And yet, he couldn’t deny how hot you were.

Later in the day, after Spencer had cleaned up and spent some time alone in his room, he went out to the living room to sit on the couch and read a book. At least he tried to read it. It was hard when his mind was still so consumed with you.

You had finally emerged from your room, dressed in a simple day dress as you walked into the living room. Spencer tried to keep his gaze on his book, turning the page as he did so, acting as though walking in on you hadn’t affected him as much as it did. That was until you stood in front of him, looking down at him. “Did it turn you on?” You asked suddenly, confronting the awkward moment from earlier.

“Did what?” Spencer replied, keeping his voice neutral as he tried to keep his gaze on his book.

“Walking in on me.” You said, grabbing the book out of Spencer’s hands and tossing it to the side. “Did it turn you on?”

Spencer frowned before looking at you and as he did, all he could think about was how beautiful you looked lying on your pillows with your fingers deep inside of you. He felt his cock hardening in his pants again. “I-“ Spencer interrupted himself to swallow, unsure of what to say.

“Because I heard you,” You exclaimed, tilting your head. You moved to take a seat on Spencer’s lap, straddling his legs. “Moaning as you got yourself off. Did you like watching me finger myself?”

Spencer didn’t know what to say or how to react. You were there, on his lap, asking him a question. His brain had completely turned into mush. He quite literally couldn’t think. Instead, he just leaned up and captured your lips with his. You responded immediately, kissing him with hunger and need.

Neither of you were gentle or slow with it. The moment your lips met, clothes came off quickly after. You had unbuttoned Spencer’s shirt, throwing it somewhere in the living room while Spencer had lifted your dress, tossing it behind him. The inherent need to just feel one another was driving both of you. You only lifted yourself off of Spencer’s lap to take his pants and boxers off only to move back onto his lap.

Spencer put his hands onto your breasts, massaging the flesh as he leaned in to kiss your neck. The soft noise you made when his lips touched your skin was quite literally his reason to live in this moment. Your hands were in his hair, entangling your fingers with his curls. Spencer sucked on your pulse point, causing you to gasp.

“Need to feel you,” You breathed out, moving Spencer’s head with your hands as you leaned in to kiss him again. You could feel his cock pressing against your thigh, just waiting to slip inside of you. You didn’t care much for the foreplay at the moment as all you wanted was his cock.

“W-what about a condom?” Spencer murmured, pulling away from the kiss to look at you with his beautiful brown eyes. “A-and are you sure you’re ready?”

You licked your lips, nodding your head. “I’m on the pill. And I think earlier shows that I don’t need to prepare anymore.” You let out a small giggle, causing Spencer to let out a tiny giggle as well.

“If you’re sure,” Spencer said softly, moving a hand to caress your cheek. “I-I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” You reassured, giving Spencer a soft smile. The way he worried made your heart swell. Your hands were still in his hair. “I promise.”

Spencer kissed your lips once more, this time more softly. The reality of the situation was unspoken feelings that neither of you had ever been willing to admit. Not even right now, as you sit on his lap. But those feelings could be addressed another time.

You took one of your hands and moved in between the two of you, grabbing Spencer’s cock. You gave it an experimental tug, causing Spencer to gasp against your lips. He pulled away from the kiss to look up at you, moving his hands to your hips. You guided his cock to your entrance, slowly easing yourself onto his length. You both let out moans, basking in the pleasure. When you sat completely on his length, you stayed still for just a moment, adjusting to his size.

“You’re so wet,” Spencer breathed out, lips parted and eyes hooded with lust. His breathing was a bit heavier than before, showing just how much this was affecting him.

“You’re so big,” you replied, keeping yourself still. You relished in being filled. The fact that you had been dreaming about this for so long and now it was finally happening dawned on you. And after a few moments, you began to move.

To say it was heavenly was an understatement. Spencer had never felt this good before and the fact that it was with you was making things ten times better. He didn’t shy away from making noises, letting out whimpers as you slowly bounced on his cock. His fingers dug into your hips, holding onto you tightly. “Oh my god,” he moaned, throwing his head back in pleasure.

Your hands rested on Spencer’s shoulders, stabilizing yourself as you watched Spencer’s reaction. Your own moans filling your ears along with his. “You feel so good,” you moaned. The way his cock moved inside of you was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined. Your pace quickened, causing you both to whine in pleasure.

“Y-you’re so tight,” Spencer stuttered, licking his lips as he looked at you. His chocolatey eyes were blown out, his skin flushed from the heat of the situation, his hair was messy from your fingers. God, he looked so sinful. He moved one of his hands to your left tit, massaging the flesh with his palm.

“S-Spencer,” you whimpered, closing your eyes as you rode his cock.

Spencer let out his own whimper, hearing his name leave your lips as you got off on his cock was going to be ingrained in him forever. “Fuck,” he moaned.

The both of you were needy, grabbing onto one another and kissing each other while you moved your hips. Spencer started meeting your movements with his own thrusts, causing you both to moan louder. The way his cock started hitting your g-spot dead on made you grasp at Spencer to stabilize yourself. “Oh my-oh fuck,” you whined, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

“I’m so close,” he moaned, fucking into you. The pace was hard and quick, showing the desperation between the two of you.

“M-me too,” you stuttered as the two of you looked at one another.

It didn’t take long until you were cumming. Your thighs were shaking, you were whining Spencer’s name in a mantra. He fucked you through your orgasm before cumming inside of you with a shout of your name. He stopped moving as he came, holding you still as he filled you up with his cum. The two of you were breathing heavily, basking in the post-orgasmic air.

And when you both came down from it, Spencer pulled out of you, causing his cum to drip onto his lap and onto the cushion of the couch. But neither of you cared at that moment. Silence overcame the two of you as the room was filled with the sounds of your breathing.

After about a few minutes of silence, you spoke, “So,” you said breathily. “What about those brownies?”

Spencer was unable to help the laugh that escaped him as he caressed your cheek. “I guess we can have some brownies.”

Brownies were always delicious after having a mind blowing orgasm.

[illyrianslut]

Spymaster's mate - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel is away on business for the Night Court, but Y/N needs satisfaction while he is gone. He senses through the bond what his mate is needing and winnows home.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Smut, overstimulation, breeding kink, spanking, masturbation. I think that's it..

Author's Note: I don't write smut a lot, so please be kind xD Ao3 Link

You had known it was going to be another long lonely night at home without Azriel to keep you company, but that didn’t make coming home to your empty town home any easier. It had been a rainy, dreary day in Velaris but you’d made the best of it deciding to visit Feyre and Nyx at Feyre’s shop surprising them with treats from their favorite bakery.

Even after spending time with you little nephew the ache of missing your mate consumed you once you were alone. Of course you understood that Azriel’s job as Spymaster for the Night Court was an important one, and one that often stole him away from you for days at a time, it didn’t ever take away the ache of being away from him or not knowing if he is safe.

Throwing your things in a pile beside the door, you enter your home and make your way to the kitchen to begin making something for dinner. Much to your surprise, there is a bouquet of flowers sitting on the table, a card with your name on it is sitting beside it.

You look around your home, feeling that your mate isn’t there causing you to wonder how the flowers got into your -locked- home. The note was clearly written in Azriel’s handwriting, confusing you further. You give a small tug on the mating bond you share with him, but can tell instantly that his walls are up and there is no chance of you getting through to him.

Y/N,

I wanted to apologize for leaving you home alone for so long. You know how it kills me to be away from you. Rhysand needs me to stay here longer, I can explain more when I get home. I am so sorry for being away my love, I will be home as soon as time allows. I love you, Az.

A disappointed sigh leaves your lips, it wasn’t the first time his job kept him away longer than anticipated, and surely wouldn’t be the last. You know not to take it to heart, but that doesn’t take away the sting of missing him.

You give up on the idea of dinner, just wanting the day to be over. Sleep sounds much nicer anyway. You give the flowers a quick sniff and smile, he had always known your favorite flowers to get. But you’d still rather your mate be home than have flowers.

Tomorrow would be one week since you saw him, one week since you felt his calming pretense, and felt him inside you. Your core aches at the thought of your last morning before he left, as always he made sure to satisfy you fully before leaving. You get to your bedroom and throw on one of his shirts and crawl into bed, still thinking about that morning.

He had woken you with his lips wrapped around your clit, and hands on your hips to hold you in place while he devoured you.

You move your fingers to your needy cunt, and begin rubbing slow circles on your clit, remembering the feel of your mate.

“Az.” You moan running your fingers through his hair, hips bucking to meet his tongue that is currently lapping at your entrance as though it’s his last meal.

“Good morning my beautiful girl.” He says, moving to slide a finger inside you. “How many times shall I make you come for me this morning?” He questions, adding another finger.

You can’t help but sigh deeply at the memory of his fingers inside you, tossing your head back moving your fingers faster.

You hum in response to his question, but can’t find any words as pleasure is coursing through your body. He begins sucking on your swollen clit, making a knot form in your stomach. “I’m gonna cum.” You clasp a hand over your mouth to hold back the moan rising in your throat. But he stops, taking away the pleasure he’d been giving so freely moments before.

“Don’t you dare hide those beautiful moans from me, princess.” He pulls your hand away from your mouth and holds it with his free hand, then goes back to lapping at your core. “You come for me, baby girl. Come all over my face.” His words are your undoing, your release hitting you all at once. Your legs clench around his shoulders and you let go, cumming on his tongue as he keeps licking, and pumping his fingers inside you quickly.

A tug is sent from the other side of the bond, a satisfied grin plasters itself on your face knowing that Azriel can feel the please you’re giving yourself. You drop what little shield was left to you, letting him in fully, letting him feel the orgasm you’re close to giving yourself.

“Please, I need more.” You beg him, not feeling fully satisfied, needing his cock inside you.

“Beg for it, Princess.” He commands, placing rough kisses up your body, sucking once he gets to your swollen nipple. “Beg for my cock if you want it so bad.” His hand reaches up to play with your other nipple.

Your body can’t help but respond to his deep, lust filled voice. “Az please, I need your cock inside me. I need you to fill my pussy.” Your voice comes out in a desperate whine while you take in the assault on your nipples.

“Good girl.” He praises you, lining his beautifully long cock up with your desperate cunt.

He doesn’t take but a moment before pushing his entire length inside you, earning a lust filled moan from both of you.

A brief rustle beside you brings you back to reality. You can’t help but startle seeing a dark figure in the corner of your bedroom, but once you recognize the shadows of your mate you continue flicking your fingers over your clit.

“You dirty little slut.” Azriel growls, stalking over to the bed and gripping your ankles to pull you to meet him.

You laugh excitedly, knowing that you’re in trouble, but also knowing the punishment will be well worth it. “What did I do?” You ask innocently, eyes raking down the man before you. His cock bulging through his leathers, wings fluttering as they always did when lust overtook him, and his eye narrowed on you.

“You know exactly what you did.” He leans down, grabbing the hand that had just been rubbing your clit and pulled you to a sitting position. His lips are close to yours, but instead of kissing you he lifts your hand to his mouth and sucks on the two fingers covered in your wetness. “Take off the shirt.” He commands, leaving no room for argument.

You do as your told, and toss the shirt you’d taken from his dresser across the room. He stood above you not breaking eye contact, he loved to hold the power over you in the bedroom, to be in control. “Get your ass in the air.” Another command, causing your needy cunt to clench looking for something to fill it.

You turn yourself around so that your ass is in the air, and shake it for him. A hard smack lands on your left cheek, a moan from you as you savor the punishment. “Please Az, I need your dick inside me.” You beg, wishing more than anything that cock was filling you up like it had before he left.

He sucks gently at your collarbone, sure to leave a nice purple bruise after he’s done. His hips pull out of you teasingly slow before he shoves his cock back into you so hard your body pushes up. He repeats his thrust again and again, earning pleasure filled cries from you. “That’s right pretty girl, take my cock like a good fucking girl.”

You clench around his cock at his words, digging your fingers into his shoulder. “Good girl, clench that pussy around my dick. That’s right, take it just like that.” Another thrust into your aching pussy.

Smack. Your right cheek stings as he slaps it bringing you back to him. “Dirty slut, distracting me from my work.” One more slap to your left cheek and he pulls away, a whine leaving your lips. “Take my dick out, and if you’re a good girl maybe I’ll fuck you.”

You sit up quickly, facing him on the bed and begin undoing the leathers between you and his cock. A satisfied hum comes from him at your eagerness, earning you a soft caress on the cheek. As soon as you’ve undone his leathers and hauled them down you take in the beauty that is his length. Pre cum is spilling out of the tip, you lick your lips before getting to your knees in front of him, licking his entire length.

He groans your name, and puts a fist in your hair tugging at the roots. You open your mouth wide to fit him inside, and dip down to take as much as you could, using your hand to pump the remaining length. “Fuck, just like that princess.” He praises, keeping his grip in your hair while guiding you in sucking his cock.

A glance up at him shows you his eyes closed tightly, and lips parted slightly as his soft moans fill the room. You use your free hand to cup his balls and he stiffens immediately, eyes shooting open to look down at you. “You are my good girl, aren’t you?” He grabs both sides of your head and thrusts into your mouth several times, making your eyes fill with tears, and gag as his entire length is shoved down your throat. Just when you think you aren’t able to take more he stops, and pulls you up gently. “Aren’t you?”

You nod, wiping at the tears that had filled your eyes from the face fuck, and reach behind him to run a gently finger across the base of his wings. “Do you think you deserve my dick?” He questions, shuddering at your touch.

“Yes baby.” Your words sound like a plea. You can’t help but grind against his cock, needing the friction, your dripping pussy aching for relief.

He leans down to your shoulder placing an all too gently kiss there before wrapping his arms under your ass and picking you up. Instinctively you wrap your legs around him, and lull your head to the side as he sucks at the soft skin.

Before you know it, your back has hit the wall, and he crashes his lips to yours. “You are my good little girl.” He lines his tip up with your entrance and without another word, thrusts into you. “Who got your pussy so wet angel?” He asks, pulling out and thrusting back in quickly, his balls slapping against you while he fucks up into you.

“You did Az, my pussy is soaked only for you.” You moan, taking his cock up inside you, grinding as much as you can to create more friction on your clit.

He hold you up with one arm, still fucking you when he reaches between you and uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit. A red hot ball begins to form in your stomach, lewd sounds leaving your mouth as you try to form words around the ecstasy that you’re feeling.

“I’m g-gonna.” You try to get out, but just as the orgasm is about to take over you he pulls out and sets you on wobbling legs. “Az-” You beg, looking up, legs shaking as you’re unable to hold yourself up at the let down from you ruined orgasm.

“Not yet you’re not.” He drags you over to the bed, holding you up as your body comes down from the disappointment. “You’re coming on my mouth first, sweet girl.” He tells you, laying you down and kneeling before you.

His cock is being fisted in his hand as he pushes you down and pulls you to the edge of the bed. “You don’t cum until I tell you to. Is that understood?” His mouth is hovering over your soaked pussy, but he refuses to give you pleasure until you acknowledge his words.

“Yes baby.” You confirm, hips rolling looking for any sign of satisfaction.

He leans in and immediately starts lapping at your soaking cunt “You’re so beautiful.” He says into you, sucking and slurping sending lightning bolts of pleasure rushing through you. Your ruined orgasm coming back, full force.

As though he senses the oncoming orgasm, he tears his hand away from his cock so he can put two fingers inside you, pumping quickly while he continues sucking on your clit. The pleasure is about to burst out of you, and you know you need to ask before you come. “Please let me cum.” You beg, hips bucking to meet his finger thrusts.

“Come for me princess.” With those words you come undone, your pleasure fulled moans filling the room, mixed with the slurping of your pussy in Azriel’s mouth. “Mmm, good fucking girl.” He praises, as your body convulses, letting the orgasm run through you.

You moan his name and a string of curse words, running your fingers through his hair. “Now it’s my turn, and I’m going to cum in that little pussy of yours.” Another wave of pleasure consumes you as he lay over you and thrusts inside before letting you come down from your first orgasm.

He fills you so completely, stretching your cunt to the limits filling you with the most beautiful feeling. His large hand finds your throat, and squeezes just enough to send more pleasure through you, his pace quickening as he fucks into you harder.

You reach back and play with his wings, and close your eyes enjoying the feeling of his hand around your throat. “I’m gonna cum in your pussy and fill you with my seed. You little fucking whore.” His thrusts are becoming sloppy, he releases his grip on your throat and hold himself over you continuing to pump into you.

Your second orgasm burst out of you when he took your nipple in his mouth, the sensation overtaking you. You knew he was close, and the stimulation was becoming too much for you to bare, “Please cum inside me, I want you to put a babe in me, Az.” You knew the words would be his undoing, he’d been attempting to get you with child for years.

Just like that his weight was on top of you in the most loving way and you felt his cum filling you up. Your name continuing to fall off his lips as he kept thrusting to push his seed further inside. As he finished his hips pressed into you, creating an overstimulated cry leave your lips.

As he realized what caused the cry, he began grinding against you harder, a devious grin spreading across his lips. You try to push his weight off you, feeling another unwelcome orgasm creeping up inside you “Az it’s too much.” You beg, your hips betraying you and grinding into his.

The orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, another cry escaping out of you. “You have one more in you, I know it.” He slides down your body, and holds your hips in place while he attaches his lips to your exposed cunt again.

“Azriel!” You cry out, the overstimulation crashing into you, tears falling from your eyes and your cunt clenching trying to hold back an orgasm.

He nips at your bundle of nerves and that is your undoing, your final orgasm leaving your body like an exorcism. Cries of pleasure and pain fill the room as your cunt aches from overuse. “That’s my good girl” Azriel walks away for only a moment before coming back with a warm cloth.

He kneels before you, as your body is trying to regulate itself. “I’m going to clean you now princess, and you need to let me.” He instructs, you can’t do anything but nod as your adrenaline lowers. As he gently wipes at your dripping and aching pussy you want to pull away, but he holds you there getting every drop off you.

You can’t move in the aftershock of your orgasms, so he wraps his strong arms around you and brings you to the head of the bed, tucking you in. “Come love.” He whispers, pulling you close to him, letting you rest your head on his check.

“You were so good for me, you’re such a good girl.” He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, brushing a few stray hairs from your face. “And who knows maybe I will have finally put a babe in you.” He smiles lovingly at you, and you can’t help but swell with love also at the idea of carrying his child.

[meadowfics]

cryptic

kang dae-ho x f!reader

one of the scariest things happens to you after leaving the games

warnings: cryptic pregnancy, near death, at the time I am writing this season 3 is not out yet, angst, comfort at the end

when you entered the squid games, the last person you expected to see was dae-ho.

your heart nearly stopped when you spotted him in the crowd for the six-legged pentathlon.

you had to take a double take before starting the race with your group..

yup, there he was...broad shoulders, haunted eyes, and that same furrow in his brow you used to know so well.

he froze when he saw you up there ready to play with your own group, his lips parting in disbelief, but the guards didn’t give either of you time to process it.

the game began, and survival instincts took over.

you had the fastest group, luckily.

you completed the jegi game and ran to the finish line as everyone cheered for your group.

however, your ears tuned out everyone except for dae-ho, who made sure that you witnessed his support.

waiting for his group to come back to the dorms was torture for you.

its been nearly six-months since the last time you saw your ex-boyfriend.. however, you still loved him.

he broke up with you, and you had an idea as to why.

he felt like you deserved better, in terms of finding someone who had a bit more masculinity.

you never wanted that, or anyone else.. you always wanted your dae-ho.

a glimpse of relief was caught in your eyes when his group, the last group, entered the dorms.

he spotted you and gave you a light smile, before he turned away, retreating back to his group.

you wanted to talk to him, but what could you possibly say?

throughout the night, the exhaustion that settled over you wasn’t just from the constant fear of death but from the hunger you couldn’t shake away.

those pitiful trays of food barely sustained you, and your body craved more.

you kept with your group you had in the six-legged pentathlon..

when someone in your group couldn’t stomach their meal, you always took it, masking your desperation with a lighthearted

“don’t want it to go to waste.”

deep down, you hated that you were lying, but survival had its price.

dae-ho was always watching you, even when you weren’t aware of it.

he kept his distance, knowing how complicated things were between you two, but his protective instincts never faltered.

when you almost stumbled into danger during one of the nightly fights that broke out.. he was the one who grabbed your arm.

he pulled you to safety underneath his bunk before you could get hurt.

dae-ho didn’t say much, just a light, “stay alert, don't play any heroics,” before disappearing again.

the rebellion with the guards was a turning point.

the chaos had triggered dae-ho’s ptsd, and he was trembling, muttering under his breath about orders and mistakes.

when you witnessed him dropping the jacket full of gun magazines, you jumped up from your bunk bed to jog over to him.

007 nearly did too, but you stopped him.

"I got it.. ju- just stay with your mother."

approaching dae-ho, it broke your heart to see him like that because it reminded you why he left you in the first place.

the reason for the breakup is because he thought his brokenness from the marines would be too much for you to handle.

he pushed you away before you even knew how to help.

this time, you refused to let him spiral alone.

“dae-ho, look at me,” you said softly.

you tapped on his knee while rubbing his elbow softly, some physical reassurance while his ears were blocked by his strong hands.

“you’re not in the marines right now. you’re here, on this bed.. with me..."

you mumbled...

the man flinched hearing you, which caused you to nearly flinch as well.

did he think that you were going to hit him??

"we’re going to get through this, but you need to come back to me, okay?”

it took a long moment, even after hyun-ju came back, but your voice reached him.

after a while, his breathing steadied.

the next games were brutal. human chess left you rattled, knowing how easily a single wrong move would’ve ended you.

during the monkey bars game, you thought you were done for. every muscle in your body screamed, and it felt like your arms were going to give out at any second.

as a teenager, you had superior upper body strength.. whats so different now?

your arms were shaking for those last few bars, but at least you are alive.

when you collapsed on the other side, you were still shaking.

dae-ho was there in an instant, crouching beside you and muttering something you barely caught.

“its okay, you're okay, you made it. I'm here,"

it was a miracle that both you and dae-ho made it to the end.

his group—jun-hee, myung-gi, hyun-ju, and gi-hun—were all battered but alive.

you were the sole survivor from your group, most of them dying during dongdaemun.. and the weight of that loss lingered heavy in your chest.

when the games finally ended, and the guards began preparing to release you, dae-ho pulled you aside. his hands were rough but gentle as they grasped yours, his voice low and urgent.

“i didn’t think i’d survive this, let alone see you again. but we did, and i… i want to fix things. if you’ll let me.”

his words hit you like a wave, and you knew there was no denying the truth anymore. despite everything, you still loved him. you missed him. you wanted him back in your life.

“okay, we can fix this--”

you said softly, your voice cracking.

"but dae-ho.... why did you leave?"

you nearly cried, thinking about the last time you saw dae-ho before now.

the way he left your apartment, the way you could not eat for days, you wanted to make sure that something like that did not occur again with him.

"it was not you, like I said-- I thought you deserved better than me.. someone who was stronger than me."

the man frowned.

you placed your hand on his strong bicep, just on top of his marine tattoo.. your other hand went to his face.

"dae-ho, you're the strongest man I know. even if that wasn't the case, I do not want anyone else.. ever! I just want you."

you say.

at this point, the guards start taking everyone away to go back home.

“meet me at our cafe spot in seoul on november 16th!!!"

the last thing you remembered was the sound of his voice before the guards released the gas that knocked you out.

the impact of hitting the pavement still lingered in your body as you woke up, tied up, and blindfolded.

the cold concrete under you only added to the disorientation, and your heart pounded as you tried to make sense of what was happening.

all you could see is black.

then, a voice...soft and filled with concern...called out.

“oh my god, are you okay? hold on, let me help you.”

the blindfold was pulled away, and you blinked against the sudden light.

the woman in front of you had a kind face, her brows furrowed in worry as she quickly untied the ropes around your wrists.

“who did this to you?”

“i…” you paused, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“thank you. i don’t even know.”

"do you want me to call the police for you?"

"oh no, its okay do not worry about that!"

she helped you sit up, her hands hovering as if afraid you might collapse again.

“what’s your name?”

your mind raced, but you dodged the question.

“what’s today’s date?”

her expression shifted to confusion.

“it’s november 7th.”

november 7th. you exhaled deeply, relief and anxiety warring within you. nine days until november 16th.

nine days until you’d see dae-ho again. far too long, but at least you knew where to be.

time in the games had been meaningless, stretched and warped in the absence of phones and clocks.

as you stood up, you glanced down at yourself.

your old clothes were back...a black windbreaker jacket, green cargo pants, a black shirt, and your worn out adidas sambas.

it was strange to be out of the green tracksuit you had grown accustomed to, the one that labeled you as player 399.

instinctively, you reached into your pockets and felt something solid.

pulling it out, you saw a golden debit card. you stared at it, baffled, knowing it hadn’t been yours before the games. with shaking hands, you excused yourself.

“okay.. well i’m fine, really. thank you for helping me. i just… i need a moment.”

the woman hesitated, clearly unsure about leaving you alone.

“are you sure? you don’t look fine.”

“i’ll be okay,” you insisted, forcing a smile.

“thank you again.”

only six steps away, an atm caught your eye. you slid the card into the machine, your hands trembling.

the screen loaded, and when the balance appeared, your breath hitched. 11,398,890,025.33 won.

its the money you won in the games, split between the survivors..

before you could process the shock, a sharp pain shot through your stomach.

it felt like a punch, but there was no one there.

the pain grew worse, twisting and radiating until you doubled over.

“ahhh!” you yelped, clutching your stomach as the cramps intensified.

your knees buckled, and you collapsed, gasping for air while clenching your teeth.

the woman hadn’t gone far and came running back at the sound of your cries.

“hey! what’s wrong? oh my god, are you okay?!”

she knelt beside you, her panic rising as she saw the state you were in.

“i don’t know,” you choked out, tears welling up as the pain overwhelmed you.

“it hurts—my stomach—”

“okay, okay, stay with me. breathe! i’m calling an ambulance.” she pulled out her phone, her voice trembling as she gave the dispatcher your location.

“hang in there, okay? help is on the way.”

the pain was unbearable, and your vision blurred, the edges going dark as you struggled to stay conscious.

the faint sound of the woman’s voice and the distant wail of approaching sirens were the last things you heard before everything went black.

waking up, you felt a strange tightness around your stomach and a dull ache in your body.

the beeping of machines surrounded you, and cords were attached to your belly. you blinked, your heart racing as you noticed an iv in your arm.

panic set in when you realized your clothes were gone.

sitting up too fast, you scanned the room. relief washed over you when you spotted your jacket draped over a chair.

the golden debit card was still tucked in its pocket. you exhaled shakily, clutching the fabric for reassurance.

the door creaked open, and a doctor entered..a woman with a kind face and a soft smile.

“hello! I love to see that you’re awake. that’s good,” she said gently.

“please, lay back down. you need to rest.”

reluctantly, you complied, your mind still racing.

“what happened? why am i here?”

the doctor grabbed a clipboard, jotting something down before meeting your eyes.

“i need to ask you a few questions first by obligation... how have you been feeling lately? any nausea, fatigue, or changes in appetite?”

you frowned, her questions making no sense.

“i don’t know… i thought it was just stress. why are you asking me this?”

her expression softened, and she set the clipboard aside.

“miss. l/n… you’re in labor.”

the words hit you like a freight train.

“what?!” you gasped, sitting up again, ignoring the ache in your body.

your hands instinctively flew to your stomach.

“that’s not possible. i didn’t even know i was… i mean… i can’t be pregnant!”

the doctor gave you a reassuring look.

“your bloodwork confirms it, and you’re already in active labor. you didn’t notice the signs?”

you stared at her, your mind spiraling. sure, you had a small bump, but you chalked it up to overeating during the games.

you never connected it to something like this.

“you’re 36 weeks along,” she continued gently.

“it’s a bit early, but your baby seems strong. we’ll monitor you both closely since you haven’t had prenatal care. it’s a girl, by the way.”

the revelation stole the air from your lungs. a girl. you were carrying a child...a child you hadn’t even known existed.

your heart pounded as reality crashed down on you.

“oh my god,” you whispered, tears welling up.

the doctor reached out, her tone soothing.

“is the baby’s father here? do you want us to call him?”

you shook your head, panic rising.

“i don’t know how to contact him. i don’t even have a phone.”

“that’s okay,” she said softly.

“we’ll make sure you have support. we can arrange for a doula to be with you during delivery.”

the next few hours blurred together. the contractions came faster and harder, and you clung to the voices of the doula and two doctors, their encouragement keeping you grounded.

after two hours of pushing..

“here she is,” the doctor said, placing the tiny, squirming bundle on your chest.

you stared down at your daughter, your breath catching. she was beautiful, with the softest features... dae-ho’s nose, his eyes, his face in miniature. but her lashes and lips were yours.

“hi, baby,” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks.

she was quiet and calm, looking up at you with wide eyes. after the chaos of the past week, her presence felt like the first peaceful thing in your life.

the doctor explained that your stress likely triggered your early labor, but at 36 weeks, your daughter was healthy enough.

as the hours passed, you couldn’t take your eyes off her. she was perfect, even though the circumstances were far from it.

the looming question hung heavy in your mind...how were you going to tell dae-ho?

he was the only man you’d ever been with, the only person who could be her father.

without a phone or any way to contact him, the thought of reuniting with him felt impossible.

clutching your daughter close, you whispered a silent promise.

no matter how hard it would be, you’d find a way to tell him. he deserved to know, and your daughter deserved her father.

november 16th felt surreal as you approached the cozy cafe where you and dae-ho had agreed to meet.

your daughter was bundled up snugly in soft layers, her tiny face peeking out from the ivory blanket that kept her warm against the autumn chill.

the weight of her in your arms felt grounding, a reminder of how much had changed in such a short amount of time.

stepping inside, the familiar aroma of coffee and pastries filled the air, pulling you back to the times you had spent here with dae-ho before everything fell apart.

your eyes scanned the room until they landed on him.

he sat at a table in the corner, wearing one of the casual outfits you remembered so well...a simple black jacket over a gray hoodie and dark joggers.

it was such a stark contrast to the green tracksuit you had last seen him in during the games.

when his eyes lifted and met yours, they softened, lighting up with a mix of surprise, relief, and joy.

then, his gaze dropped to the baby in your arms, and his expression froze, his eyes widening in shock.

he stood as you approached, his movements hesitant but filled with emotion.

“hey,” he greeted, his voice quiet but trembling slightly.

“hey,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you stopped in front of him. you glanced down at your daughter, then back at him.

“she’s yours.”

dae-ho’s breath hitched as his eyes locked onto the tiny bundle in your arms.

“mine?” he asked, his voice cracking.

he reached out cautiously, his large hands trembling as they hovered near her, afraid to touch but desperate to hold.

you nodded, gently placing your daughter in his arms.

“yeah. she’s our daughter, dae-ho. eight days old.”

the moment he held her, his composure shattered. his hands cradled her so delicately, as though she were made of the most fragile glass.

a tear escaped the corner of his eye as he looked down at her, his lips parting in awe.

“you were pregnant?” he finally managed to ask, his voice thick with emotion.

you nodded again, swallowing hard.

“i didn’t know. not at any point throughout the nine months.. not until after the games, when they dropped me off. i thought the cramps were just stress, but then… i went into labor. the doctors said I had a cryptic pregnancy, their first ever in their careers actually.”

dae-ho looked at her tiny face, taking in every feature—the little nose, the faint dimple in her cheek.

“she looks just like…” he trailed off, blinking rapidly.

“she looks like my second oldest sister.”

“she does,” you agreed softly, watching the way your daughter gazed up at him with pure love in her sleepy eyes.

his voice cracked as he whispered,

“i should’ve been there. i should’ve…” he paused, guilt flickering across his face.

“i wish i had known. i’m sorry i wasn’t there for you.”

you shook your head, reaching out to touch his arm.

“dae-ho, none of this is your fault. the circumstances… none of it was in our control. you’re here now, you have us.. and that’s what matters.”

he looked up at you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“i promise you,” he said, his voice firm but filled with emotion, “i’m going to be here for both of you. no more running, no more excuses. we’ll be a family, and we’ll put everything from the games behind us.”

you nodded, tears streaming down your face as you watched him hold your daughter like she was the most precious thing in the world.

her tiny fingers curled around his thumb, and his heart seemed to melt at the sight.

the three of you will make it this work. you’d leave the trauma of the past behind and move forward

together.

masterlist

[ihrthoney]

for us

pairings: namgyu x preg!reader

warnings: angst & fluff :p

an: i started my first big girl job but im motivated so ill try to post more :)! i haven’t posted in a minute and i hate pregnancy tropes but i make the exception for squid games lol. i will make a part two!

nam-gyu was many things, an addict, a partier, an idiot and a sweetheart. the sweetest ever, actually.

unfortunately for you you worked at club pentagon, which is how you met the physical embodiment of an acid trip.

who he was when he was sober was something you cherished and kept close to your heart. it wasn’t hard to weave your way into his rotten lungs, but soon enough you became his air, his new high.

after learning you never did substances, he switched positions at the club and asked you to get a safer job, not wanting you to inevitably cave to the horrible things that he tries.

you scold him of course, reprimand him and argue about hating how he acted when under the influence. for a while he managed to stop, wanting something serious and stable.

but then he met thanos, he came home obnoxiously intoxicated. nam-gyu was so star struck that he saw a famous rapper that he didn’t understand why you locked him out of the room, until he woke up the next morning with a headache he only got when he was on drugs.

apologies spewed out of his mouth, wishing for a second chance. his wish was granted, he found another outlet for “extra money” and promised you both a fresh start.

until the extra money vanished off the face of the earth and now he was in incredible debt.

the few months of bliss now gone, thoughts of continuing such an unstable relationship this far into life didn’t seem like a good idea. the arguments were bad, mostly on your end as you couldn’t get him to stop begging and spilling empty promises,

“i’ll make the money back and i’ll work harder to make more for you, please baby i’m so sorry.” the sight of him on his knees and holding your legs would’ve been kind of sweet if this wasn’t the millionth time he’s promised to be better.

to his disappointment, you walked out of his life that night, asking him to only find you when he grew up.

he was determined to make the money back, nam-gyu had no hesitation when calling the number on the card.

-

seeing thanos’ face on the big screen in the unfamiliar room brought a bitter taste in your mouth. you felt bad, seeing as he had the talent but like your ex he succumbed to the high instead.

your ex. that fucking moron. that piece of shit doesn’t even know you’re carrying his damn kid.

a week after you walked out of his life, you guys met up one time to exchange clothes and what not but one thing lead to another and here you were in hospital debt. finding a stable job was hard, especially when you worked as a bartender most of your adult life.

the stress was eating you alive, renting the nice place you had was not cheap and the nice landlord could only be nice for so long because you had to start paying more.

the past few months have been rough and you really wish you had the support of your ex even if he wasn’t the greatest, he was yours and that’s all that really mattered.

standing in line to sign the consent forms made you nauseous, afraid of what’s to come. as you’re walking back to your bed, you get stopped by a hand on your shoulder,

“yn?”

you feel your heartbeat quicken as you turn around and look at your ex boyfriend.

“why are you here?” his hand is still on your shoulder, slightly moving up and down your arm.

he always had a thing for keeping a hand on you, he said it grounded him.

“the same reason everyone is, debt.”

the expression on his face makes your chest ache, he looks so concerned that it makes you a wee bit mad, “what debt are you in? you’ve always been financially responsible!”

he was right, out of you two you made the smarter choices. it dawned on you that you had yet to tell him you’re pregnant with his kid.

“yn? what happened? did someone scam you? i know some people that could find them.” his tone deepening as he becomes more serious, “no! it’s not like that. it’s complicated..”

the worry in your voice makes his eyes fill with worry, “baby, you can tell me.” the name makes you push away from him but the distance is immediately gone as he closes it, pulling your hands into his own. you can’t look him in the eye, scared he’s going to be mad at you.

you’re going to keep it no matter what but the thought of him hating you and your kid makes your heart crack.

the swirled hormones make everything seem so much more intense, tears start to fill your eyes which makes his widen. his hands, ever so warm, hold your face and tilt it so you’re looking at him.

“what’s wrong, i’m here ba-“

“i’m pregnant, nam-gyu.” he pulls his hands off of your face like he was burned, an expression of hurt and anger swirls in his eyes,

“who’s the father?” you look at him like he’s stupid, which only makes him more upset. “why are you looking at me like that?”

does he seriously think i got with someone else?

nam-gyu is distraught, the thought of you no longer being in love with him makes him sick. the fact that you’re carrying someone else’s child makes any will to live disappear. suddenly he doesn’t care that he owes money to anyone, there’s no chance to get you back. “does he treat you well? are you happier?”

“i’m not seeing anyone new, nam-gyu.”

“you shouldn’t be playing games if you’re pregnant. you could hurt yourself or the baby.”

despite his own lack of rationality when making choices, he was always so careful with you.

you threw any rationality you had and spit out the truth,

“it’s yours.”

now he was looking at you like you were stupid, “what?”

“the baby. it’s yours. you’re the father. i’m carrying your child.” he blinks at you slowly, taking in the information you just dropped on him,

“it’s.. you’re carrying.. our baby?” nodding your head, you step forward and take his hand and guide it to your stomach.

“after we broke up, i started to feel sick so i took a test. i didn’t know what to do, i couldn’t find a good job near my place, moving is too expensive, i was afraid to reach out to you. i owe the hospital so much because i’m paying by month but i ran out of savings and then this guy came up to me and gave me a card to make money.”

by the end of your ramble, nam-gyu pulled you in for a tight hug, smoothing your back with his hand. softly, he coos into your hair, “i would’ve never denied you. had you called, we could’ve figured this shit out together.”

you argued back, “how was i supposed to know that? you promised me over and over again but nothing changed!”

despite missing the warmth, you again create a distance by pushing him away from you, although it’s no use given how he holds your arms but he still keeps the distance out of respect for you.

“i have changed! i’m here, i’m going to win that money and i’ll take care of you.” his eyes plead, the hands that hold you start to shake.

“you’ll win it? alone?” the logic hits him and he laughs at his own idiocy, “we’ll win, i’ll make sure we both get out of here. we can put the money together. it’ll be more than enough for us to start over!”

you’re skeptical, sure the chance of winning is there but.. is your trust in him still there?

“if we win-“

his hands move from your arms to your stomach, “when baby, when we win-“

your eyes roll at his optimism, “if and when we win, you need to quit drugs. cold turkey. no excuses, no more second chances. if you so much as look at a drug, i will kill you and raise this kid alone, do you understand me?”

he mocks a soldier, hand to his head and stance straight, “yes ma’am!” the pose barely lasts as he starts to giggle, following you to your bed while holding onto your hand.

there was more to come, you had a feeling that much money wouldn’t come so easy, but things felt just a tad easier with him.

© ihrthoney. reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated𑁤

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 she can date whoever she wants to, i don't care.

pairing: james potter x f!reader

➥ In which, James and you still aren't on talking terms, he avoids you, never gets too close to you, yet complains to everyone when he sees you get close to your new charms partner.

Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever), r is a gryffindor lol, this is lowkey super short… 2.1k words, the next chapter will be better...trust

series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons

It had been weeks. Weeks since James had last spoken to you, the last time you had talked was in december, now you're almost two weeks into february, and the rift between you only seemed to grow wider. At first, he told himself he was giving you space. He thought that if he stayed back, you’d eventually come to him, and things would go back to normal. But that wasn’t what happened.

Every time James worked up the courage to approach you, it was the same thing: you were with him.

Finn Laurier.

James hated how the name left a sour taste in his mouth. Finn wasn’t a bad guy—he was charming, clever, and polite. Too polite, in James’s opinion. Finn Laurier was completely different from James, and that only made the knot of insecurity and jealousy in James’s chest tighten.

While James was loud and brash, Finn had an easygoing, quiet confidence about him. Where James was all about grand gestures and bold declarations, Finn had a knack for subtlety and knowing the right thing to say at the right time. It didn’t help that Finn had somehow managed to claim the spot James had always held at your side, and you didn’t seem to mind.

From across the common room, James watched as Finn leaned in closer to you, gesturing animatedly as he spoke. You laughed at something he said, the sound tugging at James’s heart in a way that made him feel like an idiot.

He slumped back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. “What does she even see in him?” he muttered under his breath.

Sirius, sprawled out beside him, didn’t bother to hide his amusement. “You mean aside from the fact that he’s good-looking, smart, and doesn’t look like he’s been moping for weeks?”

James glared at him. “I’m not moping.”

“Sure, you’re not,” Sirius drawled. “That’s why you’ve been staring at them for the past ten minutes like you’re about to hex him.”

“I’m not going to hex him,” James grumbled. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“That’s very mature of you, Prongs,” Remus chimed in from his corner, not looking up from his book. “But maybe instead of glaring at him, you should focus on fixing things with her.”

“Yeah, because that’s gone so well for me so far,” James shot back bitterly.

“Have you even tried?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow.

James opened his mouth to respond but hesitated. The truth was, he had tried—at least, he thought he had. But every time he saw you, Finn was there, making you laugh, leaning just a little too close. And every time, James felt like his chances were slipping further and further away.

Meanwhile, you were doing your best to ignore the knot of confusion and hurt that James’s behavior had left behind. You weren’t blind to the way he’d been avoiding you, or how he seemed to retreat every time you so much as glanced in his direction.

Finn had been a welcome distraction. He was kind, easy to talk to, and, most importantly, he didn’t make you feel like you’d done something wrong. But even as you laughed at his jokes and listened to his stories, you couldn’t shake the feeling of James’s eyes on you from across the room.

“Everything okay?” Finn asked, his voice cutting through your thoughts.

You blinked, startled. “What?”

“You’ve been quiet all of a sudden,” Finn said, tilting his head slightly. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, you’re fine,” you said quickly, offering him a small smile. “I just… I guess I’m a little distracted.”

Finn nodded, his expression understanding. “Fair enough. If you ever want to talk about it…”

“Thanks, Finn,” you said softly, though your gaze drifted back toward James.

He was still sitting on the couch with Sirius, looking like he was caught between frustration and defeat. When your eyes met for the briefest of moments, he quickly looked away, running a hand through his already messy hair.

You sighed, your chest tightening. Whatever had happened between you and James, it felt bigger than anything you could fix with a simple conversation. But you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle this silent stalemate.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It was now James’s second least favorite day—Valentine’s Day. His least favorite day was still the one he’d sat in Charms class and watched you laugh with Finn Laurier for the first time. That moment had burned itself into his memory, playing on a cruel loop every time he closed his eyes.

But this… this was a close second.

If you had told James back in December that he’d be avoiding you on Valentine’s Day instead of spending it as a happy, loved-up couple, he would have called you mad. Back then, he’d been so sure of himself. So sure that his letter, his heartfelt, trembling confession, would be the thing that finally made you see him as more than just James Potter, your goofy best friend.

And yet, here he was, slouched in a chair in the Gryffindor common room, surrounded by heart-shaped confetti that refused to disappear no matter how many times he swatted it away. The house elves had really outdone themselves this year—floating cupid decorations zipped around the room, shooting glittering pink arrows into the air. James glared at one that came a little too close, muttering something about “bloody overkill.”

“I hate this,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and sinking lower into his chair.

“Well, don’t be sulking for the whole day,” Sirius said, perched on the arm of the couch nearby. His tone was a mix of amusement and exasperation, his gray eyes twinkling with mischief. “We’re all supposed to go to The Three Broomsticks soon, remember?”

James let out another unintelligible grumble, something that sounded suspiciously like “don’t want to,” though the exact words were lost in his sulk.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Come on, mate, this is getting ridiculous. You’ve been moping around for weeks.”

“I’m not moping,” James shot back, though the words lacked any real conviction.

“You’re literally the definition of moping,” Sirius said, smirking. “You’re sitting here, arms crossed, glaring at a cupid like it personally insulted your family.”

“I don’t want to go to The Three Broomsticks,” James muttered.

“And why not?” Sirius pressed, though James could tell from his tone that he already knew the answer.

James sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair. “Because she might be there,” he admitted quietly.

“She, as in you-know-who?” Sirius teased, though his smirk softened slightly when he saw the genuine frustration on James’s face. “Look, Prongs, you can’t avoid her forever. It’s a small castle. You’re bound to run into her eventually.”

“I know that,” James said, his voice tight. “But I just… I can’t deal with seeing her with him today, alright? Not on bloody Valentine’s Day.”

Sirius leaned back, crossing his arms. “You’re assuming she’s spending the day with Finn, but has she actually told you that?”

James hesitated. “No,” he admitted reluctantly. “But why wouldn’t she? He’s—he’s Finn Laurier, for Merlin’s sake. He’s perfect. Why wouldn’t she spend Valentine’s Day with him?”

“You’re an idiot,” Sirius said matter-of-factly.

James blinked, caught off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Sirius said, standing up and stretching, “that instead of sitting here feeling sorry for yourself, you could actually try talking to her. Maybe, just maybe, things aren’t as hopeless as you think.”

James stared at him, his heart hammering in his chest. The idea of approaching you now, after everything, felt like standing at the edge of a cliff. But Sirius’s words planted a small, stubborn seed of hope in his mind.

“Fine,” James muttered, standing up. “But if this goes horribly wrong, I’m hexing you.”

Sirius grinned. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

As James followed Sirius out of the common room, his mind raced with a hundred different scenarios. He wasn’t sure what he’d say if he saw you—or if he even had the courage to say anything at all. But one thing was certain: he couldn’t keep hiding forever. But it looks like the odds were not in his favor–he felt like his world was crumbling. He knew he shouldn't have listened to Sirius, it just made things worse. You had said yes to being Finn’s valentine–and worst of all, who asks a girl out on valentine's day?

James scoffed, his sadness shifting into a simmering anger. He quickly left the scene, Sirius trailed behind him, struggling to keep up with his brisk pace.

“Slow down, Prongs!” Sirius called.

James didn’t respond, only slowing when they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. He paused there, allowing Sirius to catch up before muttering the password under his breath. As the portrait swung open, James turned to his friend with a scowl.

“I’m never listening to you again.”

“Oh, come on,” Sirius protested, throwing up his hands. “How was I supposed to know Laurier would swoop in right then and there?”

Inside the common room, Remus and Peter exchanged curious glances.

“What happened?” Remus asked, his tone cautious.

“She was right there,” James burst out, his voice rising with frustration. “And so was Laurier. He asked her out! They didn’t even see me—or Sirius, thankfully—but still!” He threw himself into an armchair, running a hand through his already messy hair.

The others stayed silent, unsure how to comfort him.

After an awkward three minutes, Peter cleared his throat and attempted to lighten the mood. “Why don’t we head to the Three Broomsticks? A bit of butterbeer might help take your mind off things.”

For a moment, James said nothing. Then, as if possessed by some newfound resolve, he stood abruptly.

“You know what? You’re right,” he said, surprising everyone. “If she can be completely unbothered after I confessed my undying love for her, then ignore me, and worst of all—start dating some tosser who’s the polar opposite of me—then fine. I’ll move on too. Starting now. Let’s go.”

The other Marauders stared at him, dumbfounded. This wasn’t the James they knew—the James who would spend hours pestering Sirius about why you hadn’t replied to his letters, the James who badgered Remus for details about your every interaction, the James who constantly begged Peter for updates about you in the classes you shared.

It was as if the James Potter they knew had been replaced by someone else entirely.

The streets of Hogsmeade were blanketed with snow, the cold biting at their cheeks as the Marauders made their way to the Three Broomsticks. James led the group, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his jaw set tight. He was unusually quiet, his normal easy going demeanor replaced with something sharper, more defensive.

Sirius tried to break the silence first. “Prongs, mate, you know she didn’t do it to hurt you, right? She probably didn’t even know how you felt.”

James let out a sharp laugh, his breath clouding in the cold air. “She didn’t know? Oh, she knew. I wrote her a bloody letter, Padfoot. I poured my heart out. If she didn’t get the hint, then she’s thicker than I thought—and she’s not thick.”

Sirius grimaced, clearly regretting his choice of words. “Alright, alright, bad point. But still, Laurier? The guy’s got the personality of a Flobberworm.”

“Doesn’t matter,” James muttered. “Apparently, she likes Flobberworms.”

Peter, trying to ease the tension, piped up, “Well, maybe Laurier’s just a rebound, you know? She’ll realize what a tosser he is soon enough.”

Remus shot Peter a warning look, but James seemed too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice.

“Rebound from what?” James muttered. “She’s never been with anyone to rebound from.”

They reached the Three Broomsticks, the warm glow from inside spilling out onto the snow-covered street. The group filed in, quickly finding a table in the back corner. The usual bustling energy of the pub seemed muted to James, his mind too occupied with replaying the moment he’d seen you say yes to Finn Laurier.

A round of butterbeers arrived at the table, and Sirius pushed a tankard in front of James. “Alright, here’s the plan,” Sirius said, leaning forward. “We’re going to have a laugh, you’re going to forget about Laurier, and tomorrow, you’ll go back to being your annoying, charming self. Sounds good?”

James took a long sip of his butterbeer, the warm liquid doing little to ease the ache in his chest. “Yeah, sure. Forget about her. Easy.”

“James,” Remus said gently, “it’s okay to be upset. You don’t have to act like it doesn’t bother you.”

“I’m not acting,” James snapped, though his tone softened almost immediately. “I’m fine. Really.”

Sirius exchanged a glance with Remus, both of them unconvinced.

enjoyed? check out my navigation

taglist!!! @daemontargaryenwhore , @ellitheflower , @lolalleins , @happycatanxie , @somwhereonwenus , @reneeblack6230 , @doiejwi , @spidermansfangirl , @mallowsweetie , @trulyyoursniki , @luvv-danielle , @strollnstroll , @joeytribbiani18 , @mimisamisasa , @noihatemyself , @ravisinghs-wife , @moonymeloncholymoney , @evangelquill , @hisparentsgallerryy @watchmerora , @accioxtina , @akanmizuki-blog-blog , @pottersdeer

[eufezco]

TOLERATE IT 𓂃 𓈒 ❀

oldman!logan x fem!reader

synopsis – the struggles with the growing distance between you and logan and holding on to a man who has already let go.

a/n – kinda inspired by tolerate it by taylor swift.

angst.

logan was late again, though you’d stopped watching the clock weeks ago. time became meaningless when each hour felt like a reminder of how far apart the two of you had grown. he was late and you thought you preferred it this way, because when he was home, it was worse.

when he was home, he didn’t look at you, like you weren’t even there. he didn’t talk to you, offering only brief replies or silence. the man who once made you feel seen, known, and loved was now a shadow. at least when he was gone, you didn’t have to feel the sting of being invisible in your own home.

the sound of the front door opening startled you from your thoughts.

you'd been cooking dinner for him, if you stayed busy, maybe you could ignore the ache in your chest, the endless questions you no longer dared to ask. his heavy steps echoed down the hall, the unmistakable smell of alcohol followed him into the room like an unwelcome guest.

you turned toward the hall, his eyes, bloodshot, avoided yours.

—hey, —you said softly, your voice tentative.

he didn’t answer, just grunted as he moved past you and toward the chair where he always dropped his jacket.

—i've cooked you dinner, —you tried again, forcing a smile.

—not hungry.

the smile disapeared , your lips trembling slightly as you looked at him. —logan, you’ve barely eaten anything lately, —you said, your voice quieter.

—i said i’m not hungry, —he repeated, the irritation in his voice unmistakable. he didn’t even turn to face you, his focus already on loosening his tie.

you stood there for a moment, clutching the edge of the plate, so hard that you thought it would break under your fingers. the meal you’d poured so much effort into, the carefully laid table—it all felt pointless, like shouting into a void. you opened your mouth to respond, to say anything but your eyes caught on the smudge of red on the collar of his shirt. the words died on your lips, and your stomach twisted as realization hit. lipstick.

—logan? —you said, barely above a whisper.

he followed your line of sight, his expression hardening when he saw what had caught your attention. —don’t start, —he said, his voice low and warning.

—don’t start? —you repeated in disbelief. —logan, there’s lipstick on your collar. you—

—i don’t want to do this right now, —he interrupted, his voice rising slightly, frustration etched into every word.

—but... —you tried again. then you noticed how his hair was more disheveled than usual, how some buttons on his shirt were undone. ever since things started to go wrong with logan, you always had a sneaking suspicion that he was seeing other women. most of the times you didn't say anything, not because you didn’t care, but because the thought of confronting him felt more terrifying than the suspicion itself. you had convinced yourself that if this was the price you had to pay to keep him by your side, you would pay it.

but when you confronted him, he’d deny it—nothing was going on. you wanted to believe him, you tried to believe him. but you knew that something was off. there were things you couldn’t ignore and that he didn't care enough to hide, like the way he would smell different when he came home some nights—like someone else’s perfume clung to his shirt.

—i came from work fucking tired and you are trying to start a fight! these things—these things you do are what makes it so goddamn exhausting to be near you.

you didn’t just drop the plate on the floor, you smashed it. the plate carefully prepared, a gesture of love but now, just like everything else, it was broken beyond repair. without thinking, you stepped forward, closing the space between you and him, your breath coming hard and fast, your fist tight with anger.

his expression was unreadable at first, a flicker of annoyance clouding his features, but beneath it, there was something else—something like intrigue, as if he was daring you to keep going, to show him just how much he had hurt you. your pressed your finger against his chest, steady and defying.

—you don’t deserve a fucking thing I gave you, —you spat, your voice laced with fury that you had been keeping to yourself for far too long. his lips parted as if to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. —what a shame that this mutation of yours is taking so long to kill you and that i have to be the one to suffer all the shit you are rotting in.

silence settled between you after those words. for a few seconds, you both just stood there, locked in each other’s gaze. his eyes were hard, unreadable, and you couldn't see anything shifting. no sign of regret, no sign of guilt.

—are you done? —he said finally, his tone flat, almost bored, as if your pain was just another inconvenience in his already exhausting day.

you made your way to the bedroom. as you passed him, you bumped your shoulder against his and logan closed his eyes and shook his head. you didn't let the tears fall from your eyes just yet. you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break.

you collapsed in your shared bed. the sheets smelled faintly of him, even though it had been weeks since the last time he slept there, a cruel reminder of the distance between you. the sobs broke free, quiet and muffled at first, but then louder.

and he heard you from the living room.

you knew he did and you waited, even as your tears soaked the pillow, hoping—praying—that you’d hear the sound of his footsteps approaching. that he’d walk through the door, sit on the edge of the bed, and pull you into his arms like he used to. that he’d say something—anything—to let you know he still cared, still saw you.

but he didn't come.

instead, you heard the clink of his whiskey glass, the quiet sound of him trying to drown out the reality with alcohol. his attempts to ignore the sound of your sobs failed. but still, logan didn’t move.

the tears eventually took over and you fell asleep.

logan picked up the shattered pieces of the plate from the floor and then went into your room. you felt his arm slide across your back, pulling you closer to him, the warmth of his skin too familiar, too intimate, but it felt wrong now, like a cruel mockery of what it used to be. you whined and tried to push his arm away, your body tensed, trying not to surrender to the moment, and shook, trying to make it clear that you didn’t want him to touch you.

—don’t, —you muttered, still half asleep. —don’t touch me.

yet he could feel how it instinctively molded to his. your body remembered him, the way you used to fit together.

—quit it, —logan said, his voice low and rough. his arm tightened around you, firmly, to keep you from pulling away. then, just as quickly, his hold softened, arms relaxing as they hugged you.

he stayed there all night, his arm around you, holding you close in a way that felt almost natural. for the first time in what felt like forever, his breathing steadied, the weight of exhaustion pulling him into a deep sleep. you relaxed into his embrace but when you woke up the next morning, the bed felt cold. you turned, reaching out instinctively and the space where he had been was empty.

he was gone. but it wasn't surprising, not really. you should've known that he wouldn’t stay. he had always been a man who left—left conversations unfinished, left wounds unhealed, left you in pieces. what was truly surprising, more than his absence now, was the fact that he had been ever there at all.

[gumims]

tied by ink | choso x reader

for the @phantasmaebg event

wc: 1350

your soulmate tattoo showed up on your sixteenth birthday, scrawled across your wrist like a bold declaration: “stay.” it wasn’t cute, romantic, or poetic like you imagined. it was blunt. vague. frustrating.

and years later, you still had no clue what it meant.

that’s why you were here now, sitting in a tattoo parlor that smelled like antiseptic and fresh ink, the fluorescent lighting humming faintly above you. you didn’t know what you wanted yet, but you knew you needed something.

“you here for a consult?” the girl at the counter asked.

“yeah,” you replied, your fingers twitching nervously at your side.

“choso’s got time. best hands in the shop.” she grinned, jerking her thumb toward the back.

you nodded, muttering a quick thanks before heading toward the artist’s booth.

as you turned the corner, you saw him sitting there—dark hair pulled into a messy half-bun, loose strands falling around his sharp face. tattoos covered his forearms, disappearing beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his black shirt.

hot.

his dark eyes flicked up as you approached, pinning you in place.

“you’re here for a tattoo?” his voice was deep, smooth like it didn’t belong in this tiny shop.

“uh, yeah,” you stammered, your heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.

he gestured to the chair in front of him, and you sat, trying not to fidget as his gaze lingered on you for just a moment too long.

“so, what are you thinking?”

you hesitated. “something small, but meaningful. i just… need something new.”

he tilted his head, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to read you. “first one?”

“yeah.”

he hummed, his gaze dropping to your wrist. you’d forgotten to cover the soulmate mark today, and his eyes lingered on the word inked there.

“soulmate tattoo,” he said casually, like it wasn’t the most personal thing he could’ve pointed out.

you tensed. “everyone’s got one.”

“not everyone,” he replied, his voice low, almost teasing. “what’s the story with yours?”

you glanced away, your face heating up. “there’s no story. it says ‘stay.’ it’s… complicated.”

“complicated how?”

you met his gaze, your frustration bubbling up. “it doesn’t mean anything. not yet, anyway. and honestly, i’m not holding my breath.”

his lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. “so you’re one of those people who doesn’t believe in soulmates?”

“i didn’t say that,” you shot back. “i just… don’t think everyone finds theirs. or if they do, maybe it doesn’t work out.”

he didn’t respond right away, but the corner of his mouth lifted into the faintest smirk. “fair enough.”

you watched as he grabbed a sketchpad, his tattooed hands moving with practiced precision. “let’s figure out something that fits,” he murmured, his focus shifting to the page.

the way his fingers moved, the way he hunched slightly over the paper, made it impossible to look away. he radiated confidence, like he knew exactly what he was doing—not just with the drawing, but with you, too.

“so,” he said after a few minutes, his voice breaking the silence. “you’ve never thought about finding them?”

“my soulmate?” you asked, trying to sound casual even though his words sent a weird shiver down your spine.

“yeah.”

you shrugged, leaning back in the chair. “not really. it’s not like they’re going to show up out of nowhere.”

“sometimes they do.”

his tone was calm, but something about the way he said it made your chest tighten. you glanced at him, your brows furrowing.

“has it happened to you?”

he didn’t answer right away, his dark eyes flicking up to meet yours for a split second before returning to his sketch. “maybe.”

cryptic much, you thought, but you couldn’t deny the way your pulse jumped.

“what does your tattoo say?” you asked, leaning forward slightly.

his lips curved, but he didn’t look up. “you really wanna know?”

“obviously.”

“you’ll find out.”

“that’s not an answer,” you muttered, but he ignored you, his focus back on the page.

when he finally turned the sketchpad around, your breath hitched.

“what do you think?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“it’s…” you swallowed. “it’s perfect.”

he gave you a small nod, standing to prep his station. “this’ll hurt a little,” he warned as you settled into the chair, rolling up your sleeve.

“i can handle it,” you replied, though your voice came out shakier than you wanted.

his hands were steady as he guided the needle over your skin, the soft hum of the machine filling the room. the sting was sharp at first, but it quickly dulled into a strange sort of comfort.

“so,” he said after a while, his tone almost conversational, “if your soulmate walked through that door right now, what would you say?”

you hesitated, the question catching you off guard. “i don’t know. maybe… ‘where the hell have you been?’”

he let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a tingle down your spine. “bold.”

“what about you?” you asked, desperate to turn the attention off yourself. “what would you say?”

his hands didn’t falter, but his voice dropped a notch. “depends on if they’d stay.”

your heart skipped, his words hitting deeper than you expected. you glanced at him, but his expression was unreadable, his focus entirely on your arm.

when he finally pulled back, he wiped the tattoo clean, tilting your arm toward the light.

“done,” he said simply.

you stared at the design, your chest tightening. it was beautiful, perfect in a way that almost felt… familiar.

“thank you,” you murmured, your voice softer now.

he leaned back, his gaze meeting yours. “anytime.”

as you stood to leave, you caught a glimpse of his wrist as he reached for something—a single word inked there in bold black letters.

“stay.”

your blood ran cold.

he noticed your pause, his eyes narrowing slightly as he followed your gaze. when your eyes met again, there was no denying it.

“you’ve got to be kidding me,” you whispered.

he smirked, leaning casually against the counter. “took you long enough.”

“you—” your words caught in your throat, your pulse racing. “why didn’t you say anything?”

“wanted to see if you’d figure it out,” he said, his tone maddeningly calm.

you took a shaky breath, your mind reeling. “so what now?”

he pushed off the counter, stepping closer until the space between you felt suffocating.

“now,” he said, his voice low, “you decide if you’re gonna stay.”

[sweetiechenle]

would you film my s*x tape? ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ haechan

pairing: non-idol!collegestudent!haechan x collegestudent!afab!reader

summary: you and your best friend haechan are strapped for cash and desperate to make some... quick. thank god he has the best idea ever to make a sex tape!

warnings: minors do not interact 18+ only, smut, masturbation, swearing, marking, porn with plot, face fucking, possessiveness, unprotected sex (don't do this), dirty talk, oral (receiving and giving) fingering, manhandling, praise, creampie, pet names, fluff, crack/humor, this is so unserious, you are all freaks in this

you thought the line was crossed after the internet bill cost more than an arm and a leg or when the water was shut off because of an overdue bill, but this was probably the worst thing that could’ve happened. all you wanted to do was take a nice long hot shower, you stripped off your pajamas and climbed into the tub. turning on the water you jumped back and let out a small scream, scrambling to turn off the water, you let out small cries as the ice-cold water continued to pelt your back. finally shutting off the shower, you shivered, stepping out and wrapping a towel around your body, holding it close.

leaving the bathroom, you march down the hallway, finding your best friend and roommate, haechan, on the couch. he looked up from his phone when you stopped in front of him with your arms crossed.

he smirked, ‘not sure what i did to deserve this’

rolling your eyes and huffing, ‘did you pay the gas bill? The water was freezing!!’

haechan quickly stood up, ‘i thought you did!’

‘no it was your turn this month!’ you cried.

he fell back on the couch, letting his body slump in the cushions, ‘fuck’

you sighed, moving to sit down next to him. ‘im so fucking tired of being broke, dude’

‘yeah, you’re preaching to the choir’ you replied with a lifeless laugh.

‘our jobs fucking suck, our pay fucking sucks, these prices fucking suck. we have tried everything and now what else is there to do? ask chenle for money!? yeah fucking right, i’m not owing that little shit anything’ he vented.

you sighed standing up, ‘i don’t really know what else to do either, we are too busy to take on a second job, we tried delivering food and driving others around, but it’s never enough’ you agreed with him.

he grabbed your hand when you stood up, you looked down, ‘don’t worry, i’ll think of something’ you nodded, seeing the sincerity swirl in his chocolate brown eyes you nodded.

later that evening haechan, and you sat down for dinner in front of the tv watching whatever you could pay attention to, pushing your money problems to the back of your mind. you placed your empty bowl on the small table in front of you, ‘i’m not doing the dishes with the water being this cold’ you smiled. haechan laughed and grabbed your bowl, taking it to the sink to do the dishes himself, you followed him into the small kitchen. you stood and stared at his back, his shoulders now much broader than the boy you first met ten years ago, his slender fingers moving around the bowl as he scrubbed the food off, he turned back at you and it was so hard not to notice his plush, pink lips that moved into a small smile every time he saw you, and it always made your heartbeat skip. it was so hard to decide if you wanted to be him or be with him.

‘i thought of an idea’ he said nonchalantly, glancing back at you to see your reaction.

‘oh god’ you laughed, nervously you asked, ‘should i be scared?’

‘probably?’ haechan answered, finishing up the two dishes and facing you in the kitchen now.

he ran his hand through his chestnut-colored hair, his hands flying everywhere as he started to explain his thought process behind this ‘genius idea’.

‘we should…’ he paused, and you quirked your eyebrow up, ‘make a sex tape!’

you snorted and double up laughing, ‘you’re fucking insane’ to continue the theatrics you pretended to whip non-existent tears.

‘no, okay, listen… it’s a crazy idea, but think of all the money we could make’ he sighed, now growing embarrassed due to the idea he was so confident in before. his cheeks grew red, scratching the back of his neck, ‘as we said earlier, we tried everything, but not this’

‘fuck’ you breathed, he was serious, mind going a million miles a second trying to come up with anything better, ‘they make so much money on only fans and stuff i fear you might be right’ it’s not like you didn't want to have sex with your best friend and roommate, you always thought he was attractive and had a body you dreamed to have in your bed. of course you would never tell him that to his face, his ego would get too big you'd have to move out. being best friends since middle school had its perks, each other's first kiss, each other's first small sexual experience at the end of high school, something you both agreed to never speak of after it had happened. so, you figured with something like this it would be something similar, you would make a couple of sex tapes, post them, and then rake in the cash and never speak of it ever again. however you didn't want something this extreme to change any aspect of your relationship with haechan, yes you were attracted to him and he was your favorite person but you liked where your relationship was at right now.

he pumped his fists up in the air, whooping as you finally agreed that one of his plans was feasible. ‘i know! i think it's probably one of the best ideas i’ve ever had’ he said proudly. ‘i can borrow one of jaemins nice cameras to film, we have to research what could make us the most money too’ he noted.

you nodded, ‘we should lay down some ground rules too, i don’t want to just jump into this and both do something we regret’

he turned to you, acting genuinely confused, ‘what would we regret?’ you inhaled his cologne as he moved in closer to you.

you looked up at him as he caged you between him and the kitchen table, you shuddered as your lower back made contact with the cold surface. you looked down now too nervous to look into his eyes that stared down at you, ‘i-i don’t know haechan, i just don’t want anything between us to change’ you said now feeling small even though your heart was jumping for joy.

‘you don’t? that’s a shame’ he clicked his tongue in disappointment, his voice low. not knowing what to say, you gulped waiting for him to continue, ‘when it comes to you, i don’t think there’s anything i could regret sweetheart’

oh, damn him, if you weren't supported by the table your knees would've already given out and you would've sucked his dick right then and there. what he said lit your body on fire but the subtle pet name went right to your core, shamefully feeling your panties growing wetter. he always played these games when he wanted something, using cute pet names and pleading in a cute way where anyone would say yes, but this time seemed different. hearing the sincerity in his voice made the situation feel all too real, you couldn't believe this was real.

‘wha-’ you gazed up at him through your eyelashes, ready to ask for further explanation but he stopped you, placing his finger over your open mouth.

‘do you trust me?’ he whispered.

all you could do was nod at him, while your best friend was playful and mischievous, you knew he could also be serious and forthright. it makes you think back to the time when mark wouldn't let haechan drive his car ever, saying he would never in a million years trust him. on the other hand when there was ever tension between his friend group he would be the one to go out of his way and get everyone all together again and diffuse any tensity. there were some things most people wouldn't trust haechan on but if he said you two could climb mount everest, you'd meet him at the spot.

‘good’ he replied, ‘get some sleep, we have a long day tomorrow’ he smirked and stalked away from you, hearing his bedroom door shut you let out a long breath. the air around you seemed too thin and you took that as your cue to also head to your room. you got ready for bed, climbed into your sheet and turned off your lamp, falling back into the mattress you stared up at the ceiling mind blanking and trying to process everything that happened an hour ago. you turned and grabbed your phone, wincing as the light burned your eyes. opening up the search engine you turned on incognito because there was no way this was ever going into your search history. typing in ‘popular porn categories’ you nervously waited as the page loaded. ‘seriously?’ you said to yourself as you read the words ‘milf’ and ‘lesbian’, so those were off the table. continuing to scroll you made mental notes of everything that could get you clicks, words like ‘creampie’ and ‘anal’, some things you weren't against, but stuff that seemed pretty straightforward.

you put down your phone and sighed, bored and unable to sleep. so, doing what most girls do when they are bored and in bed: masturbate. you slide your hand down your body, stopping just above the waistband of your pink sleep shorts. automatically thinking of haechan and imagining it was his hands sliding into your panties. soon, you reminded yourself. you finally reached the sweet spot, you tried your best to suppress your moans as your fingers worked in circles around your clit, occasionally taking your fingers down to dip in between your folds and pump them in and out, closing your eyes and making up a picture of haechan in your head on him above you, wishing it was his cock being driven inside of you. biting down on your bottom lip as your hips lurched forward due to the friction, you let out a small cry as you came all over your fingers, ending it by rubbing the stickiness over your worn-out pussy.

you cursed silently, getting up and going to the bathroom to clean yourself. after you gave yourself a well-deserved whores bath you got a clean pair of undies and slipped back into bed, now tired enough to go to sleep.

you wake up to a sunny saturday morning, stretching your limbs out you get out of bed and grab your phone, heading to the kitchen for what little breakfast you can have. you and haechan were never big money makers, at least not yet. you had a job doing entry graphic design for a yearbook company, paid like shit, but at least you were working towards something while going to school. haechan was majoring in software engineering but couldn't find any companies willing to hire someone without a degree, he seemed to always miss the chance to apply for internships so he was stuck at his job of being a mystery shopper, which also didn't pay that well. so, you both lived paycheck to paycheck and scraped what little you could to do things with friends and go out, haechan always telling you to go bat your eyes and act cute with every man in clubs so you both could get free drinks.

you opened the pantry and opted for the generic-branded cereal, hoping to every god in existence there was some milk in the fridge, you slowly opened it and silently cheered when there was a bit left. having all the ingredients you made up your bowl of cereal, sat down in the creaky kitchen chair and dug in. looking around you noticed haechan wasn't home, his shoes were gone along with his house keys, he never mentioned going anywhere so you opened your phone and checked on ‘find my friends’. you zoomed in on his little contact picture that was set years ago and obviously the perfectly, most embarrassing picture. he was at jaemins, for some reason unbeknownst to you. you continued to eat and scroll through whatever social media app could hold your attention. after breakfast, you cleaned your bowl (despite the cold water) and sat on the couch to pass the time until haechan came home.

you heard the door swing open, immediately standing up you walked without even thinking up to haechan. he gave you an inquisitive look as to why you came upon him so suddenly. then you noticed the camcorder in his hand… jaemins camcorder, oh.

‘i didn't know you left this morning’ you explained.

‘i was at jaemins’ i know you wanted to say, ‘i was getting this.’ he gestured to the video camera in his hand, taking off his shoes and throwing his keys onto the table.

you were rooted in place as you watched him move around the apartment nonchalantly, ‘did you tell him what it was for?’ you asked restlessly. scared that he confided in jaemin of your little plan to make more money, if he did, you could probably never look into the poor man's eyes ever again.

‘oh god no, i told him it was for a project you were working on but couldn't come to get it yourself’ haechan answered and that consoled your worried mind. ‘he expects it back by thursday’ he winked at you, and closed the door to his room, leaving you a loss for words at the front door.

you went back to your room, confused as to why haechan didn't bring up anything about the sex tape(scapades), like he knew nothing about it while it was his idea in the first place. he was probably nervous and getting ready, didn't want to ruin the mood or overthink any decisions that were already put into place from last night. you decided to lay in bed and watch videos and play on your phone to pass the time. after a while of shifting around in bed and switching between the same ten apps, you didn't realize the time when haechan softly knocked on your door, saying that dinner was ready.

you got up and opened your door, surprised by the setup he put together, there was a white sheet over the coffee table in front of the tv with multiple candles lit (needed them for when your electricity got shut off), there were wine glasses included a plate of food that looked absolutely delicious. ‘wow, haechan you really outdone yourself’ haechan was romantic when he wanted to be, asking gift and flower suggestions for whatever girl he decided to get involved with during that time. it always stung a bit, but you could never turn him away as a best friend.

‘anything for my favorite girl’ he smiled, and led you to the couch, taking your hand as you sat down. you blushed at his comment, almost feeling like this was a real date at a real fancy restaurant. but of course reality is that you are eating spaghetti on a couch in pajamas before getting absolutely railed by your best friend. you almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all. he poured some wine into your glass, and turned towards the tv to put on your favorite movie. it was all really sweet and made your heart swell with adoration for the boy next to you. even with the cards he was dealt in the situation he exceeded expectations and went out of his way to make everything special for you. you dug into your food and took a sip of wine, ‘ugh’ you gagged, ‘this is the cheap shit’ you both laughed at the reaction and he gave you a of course it is look.

‘don’t worry, when we are raking in the cash, i’ll get you the good stuff, and take you on a real, proper first date’ he smiled sheepishly, not confident in his words, worried you'd object to his obvious advances.

it was almost impossible to keep your heart from jumping out of your throat at his words, not believing what you just heard. you coughed, thinking of a way to get back at him, ‘i will be looking forward to that’. he beamed, giving you a toothy smile, your insides twisted, he was too cute for his own good, taking everything in you not to devour him whole right there. you swallowed your spit and turned back towards your food, finishing it off within a couple of bites.

haechan got up and took your plate to the sink, not bothering to clean them. he walked up to you and took your hands in his, looking down at the connection. wondering if he could feel how hot you were, haechan was always a touchy person and cuddled with you more times than you could count. but those times didn't make you feel this way, you knew tonight was different. ‘go get ready,’ he walked you to your bedroom door, dropping your hands he went to his door, ‘the video camera is all charged up’ he went inside and with that you scrambled around your room, thinking of what ‘get ready’ could mean. it was his job to prep you right? pacing around the room reality sunk in and you knew what to do. now going through your small closet, trying to find the only piece of lingerie you had. a gift from a past boyfriend, probably worth more than what you wanted to know.

‘ah-ha!’ you pulled it out of the pile of clothes that remained on the floor, it was somewhat misshapen from being at the bottom of the wreckage but salvageable. it was a red teddy with lace and a thong that hugged your curves perfectly. it was comfortable and sexy while also leaving some stuff up to the imagination, you knew haechan would love it. mentally thanking yourself for shaving everything before the gas got turned off, you slipped it on and checked yourself in the mirror, twisting and turning admiring the way it snatched your waist perfectly. you moved to your small vanity and put on light makeup, with plenty of mascara, knowing it would be picture-perfect to let the camera witness as it flows down your cheeks knowing you'd probably end up crying in pleasure soon. you threw on your robe and peeked outside of the door, haechan was nowhere to be seen but you were ready, hyping yourself up there was no backing out now.

you moved towards his door, softly knocking and waiting for him, clit quivering in anticipation. you pictured all the ways he'd have you tonight, silently hoping this would take off and you'd have no choice but to make more videos to appease the viewers that didn't even exist yet. haechan opened the door, he opened his mouth to say something, but closed it quickly. ‘you look beautiful, doll’ he breathed, like he was a tiger, and you were the prey, he took his time taking in your appearance.

you blushed, ‘you look gorgeous too’ he was in a tight-fitted black shirt along with those famous gray sweatpants, and you could barely control yourself. he looked like a god, his brown hair now dark, the light only coming from his room. his features were highlighted under the warm glow, his eyes growing dark in hunger, his nose perfectly sculpted and you were ready to beg him to let you sit on his face, needless to say, he was absolutely divine.

he opened his door wider, ‘shall we start?’ his eyebrow up in question. you nodded walking into his room, entrapped in his space and musk, you could get lost in the space forever. he grabbed your hands like before, ‘do you trust me?’ he was sincere, and you nodded, ‘because everything is about to change’

you nodded, whispering, ‘i can't wait’ you looked up at him, silently pleading for him to do anything at all. he leaned into you, noticing how his eyes kept moving from your eyes to your mouth, bracing yourself and closing your eyes, his breath was on your cheek.

‘the camera is rolling baby’ and with that he graced his lips with yours, moving to a rhythm you both fell into immediately. you could feel the sparks fly as your heart soared, his lips fitting perfectly into yours, soft but also rugged with the way he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer. your body now flush with his, shrugged off your robe you let it fall to the ground, haechan stopped his movements and took a step back. breathing hard and looking over your body in a very new way, staring at him feeling like daniel being thrown into the lion's den, chest heaving up and down you whined due to the surprising lack of contact. ‘fuck, you are so fucking hot baby’ he moaned, going back to the position you were both in. you gave him a coy smile, ‘did you wear this just for me? do you know how crazy i get when you walk around the apartment looking like a total slut? now here you are, in something that barely covers anything’ he grabbed the strap over your shoulder, pulled it back with his finger, and let it slap back on your skin. you sucked in a breath, feeling the slick pool into the thread, on your thighs. ‘not sure what i did to deserve this baby’ he ghosted his hands over your body, grabbing onto your lace-covered tit. you moaned at the contact, his lips now on yours again, moving much rougher and more hungry and teeth clashed together and tongues dancing in dominance. haechan picked you up, lips never leaving yours until he threw you on the bed, landing with a thump, going limp you grabbed the sheets in anticipation, watching as he threw off his shirt and pants. your mouth dropped, ready to take him right now if he wanted. his defined body shone with sweat, abs glistening, eyes finding his happy trail and erection confined in his briefs your mouth watered at the sight. you figured he was blessed with a good length, but now you were wondering if it would even fit.

taking the situation into your own hands, getting on all fours you crawl to him at the end of the bed. ‘haechan, please let me suck your cock’ you begged, yearning for nothing else but to feel his fat and heavy member choke you. he said nothing, acting unimpressed like your pleads didn't meet his expectations. whimpering in desperation, ‘i can show you what you deserve my pretty boy, please use my mouth’ he groaned at the pet name, stroking his length. he took a step in front of you, face now in front of his thick cock.

‘lay on your back’ he ordered, obliging immediately, he grabbed you and brought you towards him, head now hanging slightly off the bed. you watched him upside down stripping himself of his briefs and letting his member free, it slapped against his toned stomach, never taking his eyes off of you as he spit in his palm and pumped his erection. he had such a pretty cock, and your core burned at the beautiful sight in front of you. thighs instinctively rubbing together to create some friction. ‘open up’ mouth falling open he teased the tip on your lips. he pushed his length into your mouth, trying to adjust quickly, haechan started trusting at a small pace, letting you get used to the feeling. haechan shudders at the hot feeling, groaning as you gag on his cock. drool piled up and spilled out of your mouth and all over heachan, he trusted faster losing his mind over the noises you continued to make. you grabbed the sheets under you until your knuckles went white, mind spinning from the position as your best friend fucked your mouth with full force. he grabbed your boob under the lingerie and pinched your nipple making you shiver and cry around his length. he pulled out and you coughed and whipped the spit from your face. moving back into an upright position, collecting yourself, and watching as haechan went to grab the camcorder that sat on his desk. he brought it to your face, ‘did you enjoy sucking my dick?’ he asked.

‘yes’ you breathed, ‘your cock is so pretty and big’ staring into the camera lens, haechan watched you through the screen, his dick jumped in excitement at the lewd scene in front of him. his hand reached behind your head, you accepted it melting into his touch. grabbing your hand he pushed your lips back to his pulsing member, head red with anger and ready to let go. instinctively opening, he pushes it back into your mouth, raggedly pushing the back of your head down his length until your nose touches his pelvis. gagging and slurping up your spit as best as you could, it dribbles down your chin as you moan around him, making him groan at the vibration. as glassy eyes stared into the camera, the camcorder picked up the whimpered sounds as hot, wet tears glided down your cheeks. after a couple of last thrusts haechan lets go of your hair, pushing you off of him, and moves back, ‘give me a show baby, take it off’ you oblige and start with the straps, trying to make it as sexy as possible for the camera. you smile innocently, as you free your tits, moving your hand to play with it, before lifting your lower body to strip yourself naked.

haechan moans, as you toss the garment to the floor, staring up at him he cages you in, climbing on top of you and kissing your neck, violently sucking on the skin and lightly biting, ‘im going to leave so many bruises, so everyone knows you're mine’ he whispered against your sensitive skin. you mewled at his words, the thought of being his. ‘please,’ you gasped through rugged breaths, ‘make me yours’ he placed his knees between your thighs, feeling your wetness as it pooled onto the sheets and him. your hips buckled forward, trying to get some sort of pressure onto your sopping cunt. he continued moving downward, the camcording moving with him, letting it see what he did. he kissed over your boobs, giving them little kitten licks as you moaned at the contact.

finally reaching your entrance, he motioned for you to take the camera and film him, which you did with shaking hands. now pointed at him, he stared into the lens, as you watched him through the screen he delved in, giving your lips small licks which turned into harsh lapping sounds as he abused your clit. he never looked away from the camera, the eye contact making you moan as it felt so intimate, yet so dirty. this really was the best idea he ever had. you hissed as his finger slid into your entrance, so hot and warm, you distinctively moved your hips towards his hand, wanting more. he added another finger, stretching you in preparation, ‘fuck, you are so tight’ he observed, pumping his fingers in and out of you. the coil in your stomach tightened and the air around you felt so heavy, you knew the band was about to snap. shuddering, your eyes and head rolling back ‘i think i’m gonna cum chan’ you whimpered. but, he stopped and his fingers exited your hole with a squelching sound, crying at the loss of contact your head moved back towards his, shooting daggers.

‘i want you to cum on my cock beautiful. watch you fall apart as i fuck you stupid’ he confessed, grabbing the camera from you. now turned back towards you, you gulped, body buzzing and hot at his nasty words. he grabbed your ankles, forcing you closer to him. haechan pushed your legs against your chest, giving him perfect access to your swollen lips. he casts the camcorder downward, ready for the money shot. lining up his tip with your entrance, he pushes in, causing you both to gasp and sigh at the contact. finally bottoming out, his hips reach your thighs, giving you a minute to adjust he started to thrust lightly, making you keen at the feeling of being so full, that, and the wet sounds of your bodies, almost made haechan cum right there on the spot. ‘fuck, you feel so tight baby, you don't know how long i’ve waited for this’ he whimpered, trying to keep himself composed. moaning at his confession you grabbed his arm and brought him down suddenly to kiss you. now in a missionary-esque position, haechan sat the camcorder down on the bed to face you both, sloppy kisses were exchanged, and you both gasped into each other mouths when haechan went deep and hit your sweet spot. moving up to his knees, and grabbing the camcorder, he pulls his hips down harder, drilling into your weeping cunt. you grunted growing incoherent as you babbled about how his dick was so big and for him to keep going, ‘you take me so well pretty girl’ he groaned, zooming in on your fucked out expression, ‘it’s like you were made for me, you're mine baby, all mine’ he breathed, his rhyme becoming sloppy and harder, faster.

you could feel fire start to poll in your lower abdomen, sinking your nails into haechans forearm as he moved circles in your burning clit with his free hand. ‘cum with me baby please’ he begged, ready to release inside of your warm pussy. you tensed feeling the lightning strike as you felt the earth stutter on its axis. groaning loudly, you finally let go, waves of pleasure coarse over your body, walls convulsing griping haechan like a vice. he whimpered above you, stilling his hips as he coated your insides white, curses flew out of his mouth as he made small trusts, loving the feeling of overstimulation. your thighs vibrated and jerked, letting your orgasm die down, haechan pulled out slowly, making you both hiss. he sighed contently, getting up and heading to the bathroom and coming back with a washcloth. he videotaped as his sticky substance dripped from your hole, cleaning you up thoroughly as he continued to zoom in.

‘well… that's a wrap’ he said cheekily and turned off the camera, placing it on his bedside table. you laughed at the comment, moving closer to him as he climbed into bed beside you. heart floating as he pulled you closer, bringing your head to rest on his chest. ‘i think that would win at fucking sundance’ he whispered, making you snort and playfully hit his chest. you both sat in comfortable silence, his fingers ghosting your back, moving up and down.

‘did you mean it? what you said?’ you asked, feeling small in his embrace.

‘what part?’ he ventured, grabbing hold of your shoulder.

‘when you said you had been waiting for this moment, was that real or just for the tape?’ you felt stupid needing clarification. you both had decided to make it overzealous so it would do numbers, he wouldn't think twice to say any of that stuff when money was on the line, or maybe he had meant it and in the heat of the moment confused about what you were also thinking.

‘of course i meant it love, if you can't tell, i’ve been in love with you for a while’ he confessed.

you gasped, head lifting off of his chest to gaze up at him, eyes shown in full sincerity, he went on ‘there's no one else who understands me as you do, you continue to put up with my shit, you're honest when i need it most, but you also support me in everything i do. you spent a week trying to find any companies that would take me on, going as far as to call continually when i never asked you to in the first place’

you groan remembering the hiring manager that had said ‘his resume wasn't good enough’ to which you gave them an earful telling them they would be stupid not to accept him. ‘you laugh at my stupid jokes and you always let me win in league, you are effortlessly beautiful without even trying, even after you have woken up after 15 hours of sleeping, seeing your face walk out of your bedroom door is the best feeling, i get so excited when you come home from work, like i’m a dog waiting for its owner’ you cry as you both sit up, holding each other.

‘haechan… i don't-… you’re my best friend, the person who knows me better than i know myself,’ he wipes small tears pricking from the corners of your eyes, just as they are about to fall ‘you always know when i’m down, you help me with tasks whenever i get frustrated and you never complain, you are my rock and i know i can always rely on you for anything, you’re my home.’ you finished your turn of the confession with a simple, ‘i love you too’

haechan gives you a small kiss, ‘no more crying, we should rest’ moving to turn off the lamp next to him, he puts you in an embrace and lays you down back in your previous position, kissing your hair you let your eyes flutter shut. ‘what if i told you i was a secret billionaire?’ he mumbled.

you squirmed, pretending to be annoyed at his antics, he gripped tighter, trapping you in his warmth, whining ‘please, go to fucking sleep’ you grumbled, finally settling down after a long day of shooting.

you stirred awake as the sunlight from the window hit your eyes, blinking you stretched and sat up, groaning as every muscle seemed to ache after last night. ‘good morning girlfriend’ haechan sang, walking into his room holding a plate of food for you.

‘girlfriend?’ you questioned, grabbing the fake porcelain from him.

he shook his head from side to side ‘mmm well we’re married in my head already, so that’s we can go with for now’

you sighed and nodded, smiling, ‘okay boyfriend, whatever you say’ picking up the bagel you got ready to take a bite when haechan gave you a nervous smile without saying anything, still standing in front of you ‘... what's wrong?’

‘don’t get mad, but hypothetically, what if i told you i forgot to hit record last night’ he cast his eyes downward, obviously trying to hold in a laugh.

you groaned, knowing he was still messing with you, ‘i saw the red light on the camera stupid, you can’t fool me.’ he looked up hearing the crunch from the toasted donut, happily eating away. ‘now come here and massage my back’ he immediately obliged, coming behind you to rub your pain away. ‘and make sure to delete everything before giving the camera to jaemin. please.’

haechan stopped, ‘but he said he wanted to see!!’

you turned around ready to grab him by the neck and not in a good way, ‘HAECHAN’. all he could do was laugh and hug you as tight as he could, never wanting to let go.

‘holy shit babe, come here and look at this’ haechan called from the kitchen, you came buzzing in, eager to see what he had to show you.

‘what is it?’ you mused, glancing down at his phone as he handed it to you.

you gasped, seeing the number of money your videos have made over the past couple of months, ‘that's enough to pay for four months of rent!!’ after a couple of months and making more videos, you started posting them to a private channel online and promoting them in various placing, thus helping you both reach pretty decent number for amateur porn. you even moved into his bedroom and turned your old one into a perfect little studio. 

‘i know!!’ he got up from the table and hugged you in celebration, ‘and we owe it all to our first subscriber and top donator… maybe we can ask him to film for us some time’

you dropped your arms and grimaced, ‘jaemin’

it really was the best idea he ever had, and you love him for it.

[c0s-lettuce]

Would you be able to a Sergei, where he has a child with someone from his past. He doesn’t know about the child for three years but once somehow finds out he tracks them down to find them and meet his kid (honestly could be a boy or a girl)

blissfully unaware - sergei kravinoff x fem!reader

synopsis: for the last three years, you've been raising your daughter, emilia, by yourself. but when her father finds out, he wants to be a part of your lives again.

word count: 2225

a/n: thanks for the request, i had fun writing this! it wasn't specified, but i wrote this as an x reader, hope that's alright! disclaimer, i do not know what three year olds are like, so i apologise if anything is inaccurate.

It was a chance meeting. You and Sergei were like two passing ships. Even though things happened fast, you thought you had found the one. You were sure he felt the same. It was months of pure bliss before one day when you woke up alone.

The world shifted when you first saw those two lines. You felt lost for the first few weeks. You didn't know what to do or how to do it. But your friends and family supported you, and eventually, you decided it was for the best. You knew who Sergei was and what he did for a living. You didn't want your child to be a part of that.

When you held Emilia's little body in your arms for the first time, you fell in love with her instantly. After the tears and sleepless nights were over, life with your daughter was perfect. She was a sweet and thoughtful child. She rarely fussed over anything and had so much love in her heart.

It was hard not to think about Sergei at first. Emilia was a perfect combination of the two of you. Half of him and half of you. But as time passed, you forced him out of your mind and focused on your little girl. And in the blink of an eye, Emilia was already three years old.

That brings you to today, a Friday morning in the summer. It's been a long week, and you're looking forward to spending the weekend with your daughter, having promised to take Emilia to the beach. But first, you had to get her to preschool and get yourself to work.

You poke your head into Emilia's bedroom. She sleeps soundly, hugging a bunny plushie to her chest. You step over the toys scattered on the floor, stopping at her bed.

"Hey, baby," you kneel beside her, brushing the hair away from her face. "It's time to wake up."

Emilia scrunches her face in response. She hugs her bunny tighter and mumbles, "Not yet, mama."

"Yes, now," you say. "You've got a whole day ahead of you, Emmy."

Emilia let out a tiny whine, not giving up her sleep just yet, and you hold back a chuckle. Resorting to another method of waking her, you lean in and begin peppering kisses on her cheek.

She starts giggling immediately, trying to hide her face in her pillow. "Stop, that tickles!"

"It does, huh? What about now?" You add your hands into the mix, tickling her body with your fingers.

She squirms, giggling even more. "Mama, stop!"

You laugh as you withdraw your hands. Emilia looks up at you with bright eyes, hiding her smile behind her bunny.

You give her one last kiss on the nose. "Come on, girly. Let's go have some breakfast, yeah?"

Emilia nods, sitting up and holding her arms up to you. You pick her up, and she hugs your neck as you carry her to the dining table.

The morning goes by peacefully. Soon enough, the two of you are off for the day. You drop Emilia off at preschool. She gives you a kiss and says goodbye in a sweet little voice that always melts your heart.

It's a productive day for both of you. And that evening, you and Emilia go to the supermarket to pick up a few groceries. She trails beside you cheerfully since you agreed to buy her a box of fruit snacks.

You're currently looking at vegetables, Emilia's least favourite section. Your broccoli perusing is interrupted when a familiar voice calls your name. You turn and see a young man standing before you. He's dressed nicely. It takes a moment to place a name on the face.

You do a double take. "Dmitri?"

He grins, "Oh my god, it really is you. It's been, what? Four years?"

You pause for a moment. You were close to Dmitri for some time, having visited the restaurant many times. But you stopped talking to him when Sergei left.

You smile back, though yours is somewhat strained. "Wow, yeah. Just about, I think. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see a show at the theatre nearby," he explains. "What about you?"

"I live here now," you tell him.

"Oh, that's great," he replies. "It's a nice area here, I-"

He trails off when he notices the little person beside you. A look passes Dmitri's face. It worries you, but he quickly replaces it with another smile.

"Who's this?" he asks.

You look down. Emilia's holding onto your leg, hiding slightly behind it. You place a hand on her head. "This is Emilia."

"Hi, Emilia," he greets her before looking back up at you. "Is she yours?"

"She is," you say cautiously.

"That's wonderful," he responds. "She looks like you."

"Thank you," you reply.

A somewhat awkward silence settles. Dmitri looks down at his watch.

"Well, I need to head off if I want to make it on time," he states. "It was good seeing you."

"Yeah, you too, Dmitri. See you around," you say.

He nods, looking down at Emilia. "Bye, Emilia."

Emilia waves him goodbye. She looks up at you curiously after he walks away and asks, "Who is that, mama?"

"Just an old friend, Emmy," you say.

"He has funny clothes," she replies.

"You're right, bub," you let out a chuckle, ruffling her hair. "Come on, just a few more things, and then we can go home."

Emilia takes your hand without a second thought. With one last glance towards Dmitri, you tell yourself not to worry and refocus on your shopping.

A week passes, and you start to forget about your interaction with Dmitri. It's a Sunday, and you're lounging at home. You have some time to yourself since Emilia is having a playdate with her friend.

But your peace is interrupted when someone knocks at your front door. When you go to answer, your heart drops. None other than Sergei Kravinoff is at your door, eyes wide and noticeably flustered.

"H-hey…" he stammers.

You stare at him, shocked. The man who has been a ghost for the past four years suddenly stands before you. And he looks a mess.

"Sergei," you regard him. "What are you doing here?"

He swallows visibly. You notice his eyes dart behind you, looking inside your home before settling back on you.

"Is she here?" he asks.

You feel your heart drop even more. He knows.

"No, she's over at a friend's place," you tell him.

"Oh," is all he says, his face an unreadable mix of emotions.

You shift uncomfortably, unable to meet his gaze. "How did you find out?"

"Dima told me he saw you," he explains. "The other day at the store."

You nod, unsurprised. A part of you anticipated something like this happening. You don't bother asking how he found out where you lived. You already know the answer.

You open the door for him. "You should come in."

Sergei enters, grateful but wary. He looks around at the living room. The place is covered with evidence of Emilia.

"She's mine, isn't she?" he asks.

"Yeah, she's yours," you reply.

He turns to face you. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"How was I supposed to, Sergei?" you retaliate. "You disappeared on me."

Sergei lets out a huff, knowing you're right. But still, he argues, "You could've reached out to Dima. Or done anything. You didn't even try."

"Would it have made a difference?" you ask. "Would you really have dropped whatever you've been doing for this?"

He hesitates. He wants to say yes but doesn't know if he can. Instead, he just looks around the room again.

You've never seen him look so defeated. A part of you feels guilty. But the other part feels resentful. Four years and not a single word. Now, he shows up out of the blue, demanding answers.

"Look," you begin. "I don't know what you've been doing all this time, but I've been living a good life with Emilia. And I don't plan on that changing."

Sergei shakes his head. "No, I wouldn't- I'm not here to cause you trouble, I just… I wish you told me."

The guiltier part of you starts to take over. "I'm sorry, Sergei."

"No, don't apologise," he says. "This is my fault."

You fall silent, thinking of nothing else to say. You can tell Sergei's mind is going a million miles an hour, so you give him some time to process things.

He speaks up after a few moments. "Do you think I could meet her? Please?"

You hesitate to answer. The thought of letting Sergei back into your life scares you. But you decide to give him a chance. He deserves to meet his daughter at least once.

"We'll both be home next Saturday," you tell him. "She usually naps around noon, so you could come over at two."

"Two o'clock. Alright, I'll be here," he says.

Sergei gives you his number and leaves shortly after, not wanting to bother you any longer. It feels strange to suddenly have a way to directly contact him. But you have a week until he comes over again, so you bide your time until then.

You're nervous all morning the next week, but Emilia is blissfully unaware. She wakes from her nap and is already back to her toys, playing doctor with her plushies. You watch her from the kitchen, drumming your fingers on the counter.

Sergei arrives at two on the dot. You steel yourself before answering the door. He stands there looking just as anxious but greets you with a smile.

"Hey," he holds out a bouquet of flowers. "These are for you."

You accept the gift, noticing he still remembers your favourite. "Thank you, Sergei. Come in."

Sergei follows you inside. You place the flowers down and lead him to where Emilia is playing. He needs a moment to take her in. She has a head of wavy hair and chubby cheeks. He can see himself in her. He sees you, too. And just like you three years ago, he falls in love instantly.

You take a seat on the floor beside her, getting her attention. "Hey, Emmy. There's someone who would like to meet you."

You look towards Sergei, and Emilia follows your gaze.

Sergei kneels in front of her, holding out his hand. "Hi there, Emilia. I'm Sergei."

Emilia looks back at you, and you give her a reassuring nod. She timidly reaches out to shake his hand but doesn't say anything. Her hand is comically small in his. She retracts her arm, and you notice her shuffle closer to you.

Sergei smiles, gesturing to her toys. "These are cool. Are you a doctor?"

Emilia seems to light up a bit at his question and nods.

"You know, Em," you speak up. "Sergei told me he was feeling a bit sick. Do you want to give him a check-up?"

Emilia nods again, seeming a bit more enthusiastic now. She's always happy to show off her toys and medical skills. It takes a few minutes, but Emilia starts warming up to Sergei. You step away to let them play and can't help but smile as you watch them.

Sergei commits to the part, even pretending to be unconscious on the floor. Emilia pokes him with her equipment in an attempt to revive him. She's all giggles and smiles by the end of the afternoon. After dragging you over to also get a check-up, Emilia introduces Sergei to her plushies, and he offers his highest praise for each of them.

Soon enough, the afternoon is over. You'll need to start getting Emilia fed, bathed and into bed. But, of course, she complains when you say it's for Sergei to go. She pleads for him to stay for dinner. Sergei, however, doesn't want to overstay his welcome, so he makes an excuse for himself. Emilia relents and gives him a hug goodbye.

You walk Sergei to the door. Stepping outside, you're greeted by the cool evening breeze. He faces you, a tentative look on his face.

"Thanks for coming," you speak up first.

"Thanks for having me," he says. "I'd like to do this again."

"Yeah," you reply. "I'm sure Emilia would like that too."

Sergei smiles, and a moment of silence passes. He takes this time to take you in. Really take you in. You've changed over the years. But you aren't even a bit less beautiful.

He takes this opportunity to continue. "And what about her mother? Think she and I could spend some time together as well?"

You crack a smile. "I don't get much free time these days, Sergei. But let's go with a maybe."

"Maybe," he nods. "I can work with maybe."

Silence falls between the two of you again. Sergei is reluctant to leave but knows he can't linger. He reaches for your hand, lifting it up to kiss the back of it.

"Thank you," he says. "I'll see you soon?"

"See you soon, Sergei," you reply.

Sergei offers one last smile and lets your hand slip from his. He begins walking away and looks back to see Emilia waving at him through the window. Sergei waves back, filled with a new resolve. He's not going to screw up this time.

➸