#which if you know me is a serious thing coming from me

[robo-writing]

hello! i usually just read your fabulous writing but i’ve had this stuck in my head for a while and i really like how you write logan. and i’m also not sure if anyone has asked this before 😭

i really love a pathetically in-love logan... the only thing that can get through the adamantium wall of a man is his sweet wife. him coming home from work straight to bury his face in his wife’s chest and neck to sniff her our as she tells him about her day. him also being like this in their intimate life 🫠 augh im sorry this is eating away at my brain.

I’m a wife guy Logan truther, the entire beginning of origins is just MWAH. (Headcanons below)

First thing he does when he gets home is take his shoes off. The second thing he does when he gets home is search for you.

It’s a good day when he gets to kiss you after work (which is every day), it’s a great day when you offer to take care of him too.

He’ll burn in hell before admitting to anyone he likes wearing your fuzzy spa-care headband, and he’ll burn a second time before big bad Logan admits his favorite smell is whatever the fuck’s in your moisturizer.

Hell, he didn’t even know what moisturizer was before he met you.

Even better is when you gossip with him as you’re shaving him

God, he REALLY enjoys when you shave him

It’s an excuse to sit you on his lap because “How else are you gonna get a good look sweetheart? Need you nice and close, gotta be accurate.”

Sometimes he’ll flinch and pretend you cut him, only to pull away with a shit-eating grin

That usually gets him a slap to the chest, but hey, it’s a LITTLE funny.

You also like to gossip with him—jobs, friends, whatever’s been happening with you—all while massaging his face with whatever funky concoction you’ve got in your hands (Toner baby, it’s toner)

“So, Jane got that promotion she was asking for,” you grin, and he knows whatever you’re about to say next is gonna be juicy.

“And she got it because she caught the boss cheating on his wife.”

It’s almost comical how wide his eyes get. “You serious?”

“As serious as a heart attack.”

“Fuck,” he chuckles, making sure to keep you comfortable while he sits back. “Tell me more.”

It’s not all one-sided, sometimes he comes home and just has this inexplicable need to be next to you.

If you’re cooking, he’s standing behind you, grabbing ingredients and handing them off with a smile.

If you’re watching tv, he pulls you up and into his arms, making sure he can bury his face against your neck.

If you’re in bed asleep, he quietly slips his clothes off and gets under the sheets with you.

(18+) Even when he’s in more of a frisky mood he can’t seem to get enough of you, letting his hands roam across your torso, fingers bleeding lust as they grab at your soft skin

He likes to whisper all the things he thought about while he was gone—your sounds, your touch, your taste

And he’ll recite it all while his fingers play with the waistband of your panties

“Missed you sweetheart, missed you so much,” he mumbles, before letting the pads of his fingers slip beneath the fabric and play with the wetness that gathers on them. “Can tell you missed me too.”

[frostbitten-writer]

Bathtub nights

Pairing: Ekko x gn!Firefly!reader

Tags: established relationship; no description of R; nakedness??? I don’t know how to name it, but no smut or suggestiveness; FLUFF

A/n: just a simple, cute one-shot that I thought about while daydreaming, so yeah, enjoy 🫶🏻

The rustling sound of leaves and the creaking of wood were the only things that could be heard in the slow night. The hideout was full and peaceful, the little ones kind of helping with the feeling of pure chaos. You were usually stuck with them during the day, but not that you were complaining, it’s just the fact that you saw Ekko even less. He was always so stiff and serious, never eating or caring for himself. The wrinkles and lines on his forehead were giving him a few more years than he had, making his young face look older. So that’s why you’re here, balancing the tray with his favourite dish in your hands while walking up the steps to his workshop, which, unfortunately for you, was at the top of the tree. 

The wooden door creaked open and you slipped your head into the room, only to see an even more slumped version of Ekko sitting at his desk. To the sound of your steps, he turned around, and you could see his stiff face softening ever so lightly from your presence. The workplace was untidy and yet cozy, just like Ekko. The whole atmosphere was just screaming him. The room was illuminated by a small, warm lamp that made Ekkos eyes seem even warmer, the little specks of gold shining so bright, you almost felt your body melt. 

Carefully setting the plate of food and bread down in the mess of his desk, you sat on his lap and wrapped your arms loosely around his neck while looking down at him with a tender smile.

“Hey..” He rasped out, voice groggy from several hours of silence, his callused and dirty from metal hands snaking up to your hips.

“Hi, tree boy, already studied everything about trees and their existence, or is there something more?” You joked, lips forming into a lazy grin, one hand coming up to one of his dreadlocks.

“Not yet, but I’m close to it..” He smiled, clearing his throat a bit before giggling quietly to you tickling him with his hair. 

He looked at your face with a certain softness that only he could give to you, the expression of love no one else got to see. If you stared a bit longer into his eyes, you could promise you saw his pupils forming into hearts. 

“What’s that that you brought..?” He mumbled, peeking at the plate with a mysterious meal.

“A bit of food, your favourite.. hazelnut soup~” You hooked his chin between your fingers, tugging his head back straight to face you, his big doe eyes looking at you with interest. 

“Really..? You’re so good to me.. how did I get with you..” He mumbled and rested his forehead against your shoulder, his eyes drooping closed. 

“Well, I have to feed you with something if you don’t eat yourself..” You teased, your hands sliding to his shoulders, kneading the lumps and muscles.

He whined a bit at the sensation, head lolling to the side.

“I just- I didn’t have time to do so.. I feel like time’s running away from my grasp..” He whispered sincerely, looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

“It’s okay, you just need some rest.. how about we take a warm bubble bath?” You suggested, doing your best to persuade him.

“You just want a reason to get me out of clothes..” He mumbled, his voice still tired but playful.

“Maybe~” You giggled quietly, jumping out of his grasp and then taking hold of his wrist. “Let’s go, space boy!” 

He only chuckled, the steamy soup long forgotten while you two ran down the spiral steps. 

Many Firelights stopped in their tracks at the sound of something or someone running down the stairs like a madman, their surprised expression growing back to neutral as they saw you two giggling and laughing. They all knew the effect you had on Ekko, they saw it by the way he would smile. Not the smirk he’d do when a plan worked, but a genuine one, an ecstatic grin.

When you reached your shared apartment, you slipped into the room, going straight to the bathroom, hands still clasped together. 

The steam was rising smoothly from the tub, the mirror already fully fogged, making the room humid and warm. He was about to ask how you managed to get it full, if you had already thought about it before asking him at the workshop, but he quickly shut himself up to the smell of the new oil or soap you borrowed.

“I found a new lavender and vanilla oil at the topside, smells amazing, right~?” You purred out with a grin, his expression confused and yet happy.

“Of course you did, found it.” He rolled his eyes affectionately, tugging at the hem of his shirt and pulling it off.

 

-

 

You both were now settled down in the bathtub, foam and bubbles flying around in the mist. He held you against his bare chest, your back rubbing against his skin, his long legs enveloping you from both of your sides. His dreadlocks were wet, his muscles finally getting their rest.

“Now that's a way to end the day, right..?” He whispered and pressed some lazy pecks to your shoulder. You only hummed in response, shifting sideways to face him, your damp hand wiping his face paint off.

“You always do that..” He giggled quietly, closing his eyes affectionately to let you get to his nose and forehead.

“And you love it..” You watched the drops of white colour roll down his cheeks. The smile on your face grew intimate, the chaos temporarily fading away.

“I do..” He whispered back, kissing the inside of your palm before tackling you and pressing gentle and chaste pecks all over your face…

[sirxlla]

Fun Parenting With The Batboys

(request @nesting-dreams )

----------------------------------------------------

Dick: "Come on, Sweetheart! You got this!" Dick yelled from the stands of your daughters first tee ball game. His face was painted with little hearts in her teams colors, Dick was so proud of his girl.

You came back with nachos for you and him and waters for all three of you. When Jasmin got back to home plate the both of you errupted in pure pride screaming her name. You could tell she was a bit tired, breathing heavy and sweating quite a bit so you went over to her and handed her the water and told her to drink slow as you gently pet her hair.

"Just like we practiced, Sweetheart. I'm so proud of you!" Dick's smile was a mile wide, him and Jasmin had been practicing almost evert day when he he was able.

"Why are we the best?" He kneeled and hugged her tight as he asked her the question.

"Cause we kick butts!" She yelled in excitement as she flexed her tiny muscles the way Dick normally did jokingly.

Jason: Jason was in the garage fixing up your car and he'd probably said it a few times whilst she sat in her high chair so of course she repeated it.

"Fuck!" She repeated after him. He had said it after sitting up off the back board he was using and probably 1,000 other times today.

"Hehhehe, No. Princess, Mommy would kill me if you keep saying that." He told your daughter as a smile tried to itch its way onto his face.

"Fuck!" Aurora said to his face, she just knew it made him laugh and smile and she liked that.

"Rory." He tried to say it in a serious tone as he tried to hide his laugh.

"Fuck!" She giggled as she saw him smile and his eyes lit up.

"Jason Peter Todd, You best not be teaching our sweet little girl to cuss." You said in a sweet but slightly serious tone as you came to help him work on your car.

"Fuck!" Aurora giggled trying to make her mom laugh like she did her dad.

"She started it!" Jason jokes back at you laughing.

"Daddy say fuck!" She asks him with a giggle cause him saying it made her laugh and vice versa, a merry-go-round of laughs between the two of them.

"If you're gonna teach her the words, thats fine but make sure she knows when and when not to say them and how to use them properly." You spoke with a sincere tone to Jason. Jasons jaw dropped at your words, he was suprised.

"You'd be okay with that?" He asked with astonishment in his voice. Although he was suprised it made him happy to know you werent a stickler for general parenting rules everyone else seemed to have.

"Yes, its fine but she doesnt need to use the words directed at us and she needs to know what they mean and how to use them."

"Fuck!" Aurora continued trying to make her Daddy smile.

"Rory, Daddy doesn't want you to say that right now, please?" Jason realized how important this all was, He was taking this Dad thing serious and Aurora could tell so she stopped. He did teach her thoughout time how to use them properly and to not use them at teachers or family.

Bruce: Bruce "really wasn't one for children" he'd tell you but that was before you went through nine months to have his daughter. A daughter was a change of pace from all the boys and plus she was blood, not that that made the boys any less his but May would look like you both and she'd have mannerisms from you both that happened a bit more naturally.

She had his crystal blue eyes that just cut through anyones sadness or anger, your nose, somehow ended up a ginger which did suprise you both but boy was she a picture.

He was playing peek-a-boo whist she sat in your lap.

"Da- Dad- Da- Da- Ah!" She giggled at Bruce again.

"Where's May?" He asked before popping out and saying "There she is." Which made her giggle so so hard.

Bruce "wasn't good with babies" he still claimed but that girl was a clear exception, his shining light and shooting star.

The press ate it up whenever Bruce was out and about with her, every man in the family doted on her. She's a spoiled little shit but she's got manners still, her brothers and Bruce made it a point for her not to just be another spoiled asshole.

You were worried about having a kid and how stressful it would be but between Alfred, the boys and Bruce, you almost never had to get outta bed in those early hours. (Especially cause they were already up most likely.)

Every little drawing she did he kept and he had a picture of her next to the Batcomputer to go along with the photo of you and him with the boys and the one of his parents. Family is what drove him now, not Vengence but protecting his family, you, his sons and his sweet little girl.

(Note: ik about Cas and Steph but I wanted to write this in a way that the daughter was a bit more special.)

Tim: Anna loved Tim to bits, right now he had her in the swings as he did silly faces at her whenever she would get closer. He gently pushed her back and forth. She had a clear favorite between you two.

"Daddy!" She was squealing and giggling doing faces back at him, he was entertaining her whilst you set up the picnic for food.

Thankfully, the wind had calmed itself down and you could put the blanket and basket down.

"Guys! Lunch!" You shouted before Tim slowed the little girl down which caused her to get upset.

"Daddy! Again!" She whined and pouted crossing her little arms.

"No, Anna. Mommy made food now we gotta eat okay?" Tim picked her up out of the swing and as soon as he did that she was immediately changing her attitude. Food and Daddy? She was definitely happy with that.

"Mommy made food?!" She was excited as she ran tword the picnic blanket.

She sat down as did Tim before chowing down, you did the same and made sure Anna's drink was open for her to drink out of. The little girl had jelly all over her face by the time the she was almost done eating and thought it was funny to rub her jelly filled face against Tim's.

Instead of getting angry he wiped peanut butter on her cheek which made her squeal and hide behind you.

"No, Mommy." She whined, Tim was happy she was spending more time with you now cause he knew how bad it hurt when she'd choose him over you nine times out of ten and he was trying to get her to spend time with you equally.

Damian: Damian being the asshole he is, no one would expect him to fall to his knees over his little boy, for him to smile when he tickled the small mini-me he had.

Enzo's eyes shined like emeralds as he played eith his father but when Enzo played with Titus? The boys eyes looked closer to Kryptonite with the way they were so full of life and happiness.

Enzo would pull on the poor Great Dane and he'd laze all over Titus. Damian and Titus were so paitent with the boy. Enzo would pull on the Great Dane and hug on him and nk matter how grumpy Titus could get he would never snap at Enzo.

When walking in the park with Enzo in the stroller you'd be walking Titus as well, Titus's head was on a swivvel and he'd never let anyone hurt you but also especially the precious cargo that was snoring in the covered stroller.

"Doggy!" Enzo was trying to find Titus and even with him being across the house he bolted to Enzo as soon as he was called foor. Damian didnt know what made him get up so fast so of course he was worried and grabbed his sword to follow the dog but as soon as he got there? Enzo hugging on the dog.

"Daddy and Doggy!" Enzo burped abd giggled as he saw the two of them, he was sitting in your lap and coloring in his coloring book.

Damian later placed one of those in Titus's doghouse and one on his desk. Titus was a watchful protector and protected the innocent young boybfor just about anything...the fireplace, the pool, putting his hands in the toilet.

That dog was practically a third parent which made life a lot easier, Titus knew when Enzo cried it was probably due to him missing him so he'd leave his bed at the end of yours and Damian's and sleep next to the crib which calmed the small boy.

Masterlist <-

[eatfishies]

let's drown in this ecstasy together | 🔞

summary: Sylus has been relentlessly working hard these past few days.

or

You gave Sylus a helping hand, ensuring that he sleeps soundly tonight.

word count: 2.9k words tags: NSFW, sylus x reader (afab), porn without plot (super filthy ngl), oral sex (blowjob, deepthroat), HEAVY dirty talk, clit play, swearing, vaginal sex (rough sex), pet names, breeding kink, creampie, choking, nipple play, established relationship fish notes: uwah ..! i wrote this w my dick n it's very Very self-indulgent hehe :3 also inspired by the pic above ^^ hope all of u enjoy <3 ── ao3 link ★ ˙ ̟ | my twt !

It was a quiet, tiring day for Sylus. Being the leader of Onychinus comes with a load of responsibilities and duties that he must oblige. Still, he’s relieved to finally get a breather and unwind from his long day. He leaned back on the sofa, lazily unbuttoning his shirt, leaving his chest slightly bare. 

He closed his eyes and tried to take a nap. That was until, a soft creak came from the door. He fluttered his eyes open, a small smile crept on his lips as he saw her walking towards him. Without hesitation, he extends his arms, inviting her into an embrace, to which she lets him. She gently stroked his white hair, the action making Sylus relax from all the tension he’s been feeling. 

“Didn’t expect I’d get to see my kitten today. I thought we agreed to meet on Friday.” He spoke as he hugged her tight, yet he was undoubtedly happy that she showed up today rather than their fixed date. 

She smiled as she gazed down at Sylus, still carding her fingers through his hair. “There were no sightings of wanderers lately so we were told to take it easy in the meantime.” She pulled away slightly to cup his face. “Besides, I miss you.” 

Sylus felt his heart swell with affection at her declaration. He looked up at her fondly, “I missed you too, sweetheart. This was certainly a pleasant surprise.” 

“Anything for you, Sy.” She said as she climbed onto his lap. “You look so tired… have you not been sleeping well?” There was a disapproving look on her features which made Sylus chuckle lightly. She looks so cute, he thought. 

“I think you already know the answer to that, kitten.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, “You know how work has been for me.” 

She frowned, “I do and I don’t approve of it! You already have bad sleeping habits and now you’re neglecting your own sleep. Must I watch over you and ensure you get enough rest?” 

A deep chuckle emitted from Sylus. “Hmmm… I wouldn’t mind that at all. My little hunter wants to be my sleeping aid? How sweet of you.” 

“Sylus, I’m serious! I will really nurse you to sleep if I have to.” 

Hearing her say that made Sylus excited. “Oh? And how exactly will you put me to sleep, sweetie?” He said in an amused tone. She stared at him, a flash of hunger in her eyes, “I can think of a thing or two to help you relax and sleep.” 

Despite the fatigue weighing heavily on Sylus’ shoulders, his desire for her is far greater than any other hurdle. He smirked, “Really? Enlighten me then.” 

Suddenly, he can see the clear signs of lust etched on her face. She licked her lips, “With pleasure.” 

Without warning, she closed the distance between them. Their lips met each other in a tantalizing dance as Sylus’ hands roamed all over her body, feeling her curves and groping her ass. When they pulled away, Sylus immediately began to press kisses on her neck, eliciting whimpers. 

It was addicting, listening to her moans and debauched cries. Sylus could get lost in it, all he can think about is her and making her feel good. But, she gently pulled him away and got off of his lap, kneeling down before him. 

That action alone made Sylus’ breath hitch in his throat as she swiftly unzipped his pants and tugs it down, freeing his hard cock, which stood tall and proud. 

She licked the precum from his tip, her tongue swirling around the head as she gazed up at him. “Relax for me, okay?” She spoke breathlessly before skillfully swallowing him in one-go, making Sylus curse loudly. 

The sensation of being inside her hot, wet mouth only intensified his arousal. He groaned as she fervently sucked and bobbed her head around his shaft. Sylus’ eyes fluttering shut, savoring the feeling of her tongue, pleasure coursing through his veins. 

His hands find their way to grab onto her hair, gripping it tightly and pushing his thick cock deeper inside her mouth. “Such a good little cockslut for me.” He moaned out as her throat constricts against his member.

“Remember to breathe, sweetie.” He said hoarsely, forcing it deeper and deeper until it hits the back of her throat. “That’s a good girl.” The encouragement only further strengthened her resolve to please Sylus, letting him use her completely. 

Sylus sets a brutal pace, fucking her throat with long, powerful strokes. The sounds of her moans and whimpers as he continued to deepthroat her were like music to his ears. He tilted her head back, pushing further deep inside to take more of his thick, pulsing shaft. A single tear streamed down her cheek, it was a pretty sight to see and it fueled his need to cum by a tenfold. 

“Fuck, you’re so good at this, kitten. You love my cock, don’t you? Always so eager to please me and make me feel good.” He can feel the head of his dick nudging against her throat. She whimpered, staring up at him with teary eyes as she humped the floor, desperate for any sort of friction against her needy cunt. 

It’s always a major turn-on to see Sylus like this. To let him dominate her and make a mess out of her, reducing her into a dumb slut who can’t think of anything other than his cock. The vibrations of her moans and whimpers only increased his pace, relentlessly ramming her throat as he feels it convulse around his throbbing cock. 

Each thrust and sound she makes sends a jolt of intense pleasure through his hardened member. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “My pretty cocksleeve. Doing so well for me, hm? Taking me like a champ.” 

She preened at his praise, eagerly sucking him with vigor. The grip on her hair tightened as Sylus continued to ram his throbbing cock into her throat, chasing his release. 

“Gonna cum in your mouth just the way you like, hm? Drink all my seed up, my sweet slut.” Sylus growled, the rough thrust makes her flutter her eyes shut, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

With a deep groan, Sylus cums deep in her convulsing throat. His cock pulsing and throbbing, flooding her mouth with thick, hot cum. He leaned his head back, panting as his release started to subside from the intense orgasm. She pulls away from his softening member with a wet pop. A strand of cum and saliva connects the tip of her swollen lips for a moment before breaking. 

A wave of satisfaction spread through her as she stared up at Sylus, enjoying his debauched state and feeling an immense amount of pride at being able to make the all-mighty feared leader of Onychinus like this. Sylus’ gaze falls onto her, watching with renewed lust as she lolled her tongue out, displaying the lewd puddle of his cum before swallowing it whole.

The action made Sylus’ cock twitch and harden again at the erotic sight before him. “That’s my good cumslut.” His voice is rough with desire for more — to completely devour her until she’s a sobbing mess. 

He tilts her chin, meeting her needy expression that is just begging for more. “My little hunter is such a good girl. Swallowing my cum like that… let me reward you for your hard work. How does that sound, kitten?” 

She nodded her head, her eyes lightning up at the prospect of getting utterly ruined by him. A smirk curled on his lips as he effortlessly picked her up and carried her over to his massive king-sized bed. Sylus laid her down gently and swiftly took off her clothes. 

Both of their clothes scattered onto the floor, leaving each other bare. “You’re perfect, kitten. My beautiful girl… my whole treasure.” He spoke softly, his voice filled with affection before he captured her lips in a searing kiss. 

Pouring every ounce of his passion and devotion into it. A kiss that promises a lifetime of love and happiness together. His hands roam her curves with urgency, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure that buzzed through her skin whenever he caresses. 

His fingers trailed lower, cupping the soft swell of her breasts. Sylus groaned against her lips, the sound vibrating through his chest and into her as he felt her own desire rising to meet his. His tongue delved into the sweet cavern of her mouth. It’s intoxicating and he can’t seem to get enough of it, no matter how many times they’ve done this. 

When they pulled away, Sylus wasted no time and leaned down to capture her perky nipple between his lips. His tongue swirling around her hardened bud before sucking on it fervently. His other hand moved to pinch and roll her neglected nipple.

A small puddle of slick started to leak out of her cunt and onto Sylus’ expensive, silk sheets. “Sy… please… I want you.” She whimpered as he greedily suckled on her breast, feeling her arousal soar.

Sylus pulled away slightly, “Beg for it, kitten. I want to hear how much you want my fat cock inside you.” His hand slides down between her thighs, rubbing her clit languidly , “You’re so wet for me. So eager, aren’t you, my little slut.” 

“F- fuck…! Ah… feels so good, Sy.” She drawled out, biting her lip as his fingers stroked her folds, coating his digits with each rub. “So ready for me, so eager to be filled by my cock. Tell me what you want, sweetie.” He murmured against her skin.

Not a single thought nor feeling could describe the pleasure she was experiencing. Only Sylus could reduce her to such a state. Whatever troubles she had all vanished the moment Sylus touch her. It was electrifying and addicting, she can no longer live without him. A soothing balm to her rough days and the one who makes her feel the most alive. 

His crimson eyes burned with a feverish light, his expression morphed into one of pure, unadulterated lust. Sylus waited patiently for her command, ready to fulfill every single wish and desire, to worship her. To him, she is everything. Nothing else mattered except her. 

“Want your cock! Please! I want you inside me… need it so bad.” She squirmed beneath his skillful fingers. The heat in her core grew every second, it was maddening and she wanted him now. 

“As you wish, my love.” He rasped, his voice low and rough with raw need. “I’m going to fuck you now, kitten. I’m going to fill you up, claim you, make you scream my name until it’s the only word you remember.” 

He loomed over her, his large frame making her feel small. His gaze burned with deep intensity, like a predator waiting to devour his prey. Sylus’ body is a work of art, his chiseled muscles and scars of his past battles makes him look breathtaking. 

Slowly, he spread her legs wide open. The thick length of his cock pressing against her slick folds. He reached down to grasp his shaft, stroking and coating it with her arousal. 

“Look at me, kitten.” He gazed down at her, “I want to see your face when I enter you, want to watch your expression as I claim you, body and soul.” 

He nudged the swollen head of his cock at her entrance, the pressure building, the anticipation was almost too much to bear. Then, with a single, powerful thrust of his hips, Sylus sheaths himself inside her, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke.

“Fuck… you feel so good.” Sylus moaned out, his head falling back and his eyes squeezed shut as her tight walls clench around him, gripping him like a vice. “You feel incredible, sweetie. Like you were just made for me.”

Wanton moans and cries falls from her lips, lost in the clouds of pleasure as Sylus rocks his hips. Each thrust is deep and hard, to make her feel every inch of him with every throb and pulse of his thick shaft as it stretches her, filling her completely.

“That’s it… that’s my good little cockslut. Take all of me.” He panted, his breath coming in fast as he lost himself in the sensation. 

The room is filled with the sounds of skin-slapping and moans, spurring Sylus on, driving him to take her with newfound ferocity. Her hands scrambled to purchase, gripping the sheets tightly as he pounds her dripping wet pussy.

“More… Ah..! Please, more! I want it.” She writhed, tears falling freely down her cheeks, letting herself drown in ecstasy. 

Something snapped inside Sylus as he heard her desperate pleas. “More? My, you’re so greedy.” He snarled, hooking her knees over his elbows, nearly bending her in half as he loomed over her, his ruby eyes ablaze with a hunger that consumed him utterly. “You want more of my cock? Want me to fuck you harder, deeper, until the only thing you can do is scream my name and beg for more?”

Relentlessly, Sylus slammed his hips with a rapid pace, the force of his thrusts rocking the bed beneath you. The obscene sound of flesh against flesh fills the room, mingling with her debased cries and his animalistic grunts. It was erotic and it makes her feel dizzy with how overwhelming the whole experience is.

Sylus hissed, “Your cunt is gripping me so tightly, sweetie. Like it never wants to let me go. Do you like it that much, hm, my dumb slut?” To further punctuate his filthy words, Sylus rammed inside her wet cunt.

Whatever words she wanted to say died down in her throat with how brutal Sylus’ fucking is. He leaned down, “Let’s stay like this. I want to stay buried inside you forever. You’d like that, don’t you?” 

He wrapped his hand around her throat, applying just the lightest pressure. It’s a dominant, possessive gesture, a silent declaration of his ownership to you, body and soul. “My pathetic little cockslut. Always begging for cock, hm? Let me fill you up full until all you can think about is me fucking you.” 

As if it wasn’t possible enough, she feels the pit of her stomach coiled with arousal. Her pussy spasmed and clenched around his enormous shaft, Sylus’ hips never faltering in their ferocious rhythm.

“You’re such a good girl.” He rasped, his fingers curling around her neck with more pressure. “Take my cock like the good slut that you are. Milk me with your greedy cunt. I’m going to breed you, pump you full of my seed until it’s dripping out of you. Until everyone knows who you belong to.” 

Hearing him say such filthy words with ease pushed her to the edge. The head of his cock kissing her cervix repeatedly, eliciting a plethora of moans and cries. “Cum for me. Cum around my cock like the good girl you are.” 

His other hand slides down, finding her clit and rubbing the sensitive nub in circles. “Come on. I want to feel this greedy pussy spasm around me as I breed you. Want to feel you shaking and quivering and screaming my name. Give it to me, slut. You can do it.” 

That alone was enough to make her scream aloud. “I’m cumming, Sy! Fuck!” Her pussy spasmed and throbbed around his cock as she arched her back, her body shaking from the intensity of it all.

“Fuck, I’m close, kitten.” Sylus pants, his pace unfaltering, “Gonna fill this cunt up…!” With a final harsh thrust, Sylus releases his load deep into her core. He grinds against her, ensuring that every last drop of his seed is pumped directly into her womb. 

For a while, the both of them stayed still and panted from their vigorous activity. She feels Sylus’ cock softening inside her as he collapses onto her, burying his face on her neck, inhaling her scent.

“You’re… you’re out of this world, sweetie.” Sylus said breathlessly. She chuckled lightly as she cupped his face, pulling him away from her neck and staring deep into his eyes.

“I should be saying that to you. You’re too good at this.” A sense of pride washed over Sylus at her words. He smiled at her softly, “And you’re my everything.” 

After basking in the afterglow, Sylus pulled out and watched in fascination as the cum leaked and dripped out of her sopping pussy. It stirred a primal feeling inside of him. 

Once they were all cleaned up, the both of them laid in each other’s arms, tucked in the covers as the signs of sleepiness made their way to their body. 

She snuggled against his chest, listening to the steady heartbeat as his arm wrapped around her. “You won, kitten. I’ll admit, I feel like I’m about to doze off in a sec.” He spoke after a minute of comfortable silence.

Her gaze shifted towards him, smiling, “See? I told you. My method to put you to sleep always works.” She remarked smugly, to which, Sylus had no choice but to chuckle at her cuteness. He pressed a kiss against her forehead. “I never doubted you, sweetie. I’ve always known you are incredible at anything you do.” 

Those words made her heart warm, to know that her lover feels as deeply as she does. She embraced him tightly, “I love you, Sy.” She muttered softly. 

“I love you too, my love. More than everything and anything else. You are my whole world.” 

Sylus then fell asleep, listening to the sounds of her breathing and basking in her warmth. He no longer dreams of bloodshed and pain with her in his arms.

[akimiiyo]

-> COMFORT

⌗synopsis: how genshin men comfort you.

⌗characters: diluc, kaeya, albedo, zhongli, childe, baizhu, xiao, thoma, itto, ayato, heizou, wanderer, kazuha, tighnari, cyno, alhaitham, kaveh, neuvillette, lyney, dainsleif, dottore, pantalone, capitano, pierro.

⌗cw: gn!reader, not proofread, lowercase intended, ooc? not so sure.

he can tell something’s up with you with a single glance your way. he won’t waste time, he’ll ask you what’s on your mind and trust me when i say that lying won’t get you out of this situation. he won’t stop until he found the source of your unhappiness before pulling you in a tight hug. his hugs usually last a bit during these moments, between his hands running up and down your back and his sweet, whispered words to your ear. if your heart is particularly heavy, he’ll kiss your tears in such a delicate way just to tickle you and bring back a smile on your face. he’ll make sure you know he’s by your side and you won’t have to deal with things all on your own.

diluc, kaeya, zhongli, baizhu, kazuha, thoma, tighnari.

his first instinct is to cheer you up as soon as he starts noticing your mood. what would his world be without his darling’s smile? he’ll try to make some jokes and squeeze you into his arms a little more until he hears your lovely laugh once again before starting to ask you about your worries. sadly enough, his attempts fail to prevent you from breaking down in front of him, his heart aching at the sight of your tears. he wipes away your tears while encouraging you to talk before smothering your face with sweet kisses and reassuring you in the meantime. you best believe he won’t let you leave his side for the rest of the day, that’s just the kind of guy he is.

childe, itto, thoma, heizou, cyno, kaveh, lyney.

he doesn’t really pick up on your mood at the very beginning, but he slowly begins to notice a couple of things which results in him trying to figure out what could possibly be upsetting you. he feels a little embarrassed to go up to you and comfort you out of the blue, but he does anyways because it’s you. he might sit beside you and hold your hand or even hug you without saying much. he’ll let you decide wether to open up or not, but he lets you know that whatever your decision may be, he’ll be there. later that day you’ll find him preparing you a snack and a drink for you with the intentions of staying by your side in the coziness of your own home.

albedo, xiao, alhaitham, wanderer, neuvillette, dainsleif.

he can see your saddened eyes. there’s never a moment when he’s not looking of you, so how could he not notice? he’s quite the strong man and his partner isn’t less than him, so he’s sure you can deal with anything. that is not to say he wouldn’t help you, he just knows that whatever it is, if it was serious enough you’d know to look for him. once you do though, he’ll offer you whatever you need to help you feel better. a hug? reassurance? solutions? whatever it is that is troubling you, dear, you’ve come to the right person. and although he may seem a little distant to some, you know that this man would move mountains to ensure your happiness and he reminds you everyday.

ayato, dottore, pantalone, capitano, pierro.

⌗a/n; wow, i sure love posting with consistency! 😸 this was rushed, i hope you cant tell that much and that you still like it. i noticed that they werent posting a lot of dottore content recently, so i took matters into my own hands 😈 anyways, if there are any mistakes, plsss tell me!!!

want to see more? take a look at my masterlist!

©2024 akimiiyo. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.

[suguruspit]

Lockjaw

warnings: oral sex (f!receiving), come eating, Gojo is a certified munch, situationship, exhibitionism, masturbation (reader), semi-public sex, car sex, f!ngering, squirting, overstim, dancing around feelings, panties fetish (?), eating out with panties on

A/N: Gojo Satoru being a complete nasty freak and munch is something that is very special to me. He definitely uses those six eyes for inappropriate things don't even JOKE (this was a request :P)

It was a random hook-up that started his slight obsession. On and off for years, and this particular part of his kinky nature never came to light.

"I'm serious, Gojo." You snort, the tip of your finger swirling around the rim of your glass as you rest your chin in your hand. "I'm not the type of girl to lose my panties to the first guy who makes a pass at me."

Gojo studies you, eyes hidden under that thick black fabric as he hums, stretching his legs out as he stands up from his bar stool, holding out a hand to you as you raise an eyebrow in response.

"I'll take you home." A simple sentence, one that he says with such ease that you don't think anything of it, despite him practically begging to let him get you off in bathroom.

It's not like the two of you haven't shared a bed before, admittedly you'd been thinking about texting him a simple 'you free?' earlier before he'd walked straight into the bar you were in- but, he's just your coworker now.

Walking into that damn school and immediately thinking about The Gojo Satoru on his knees with his mouth buried in your pussy had made working with him a complete nightmare. There's only so many times you can excuse yourself to the bathroom to bury your fingers in yourself for some kind of relief. Thus; the ban.

"I don't know.." You eventually reply, your voice full of uncertainty despite the fact that your body is already up and moving off the stool, and you smile to yourself as Gojo wraps his jacket around your shoulders, leaving him in that ridiculously tight white shirt. "I guess you're a safer option than a random man."

"Gee, thanks." Gojo snorts, offering you his elbow with an exaggerated bow, making you laugh as you stumble slightly on your way back to the car.

It's cold out, which is part of the reason why you'd gone straight to the bar after your bad mission instead of just walking it off. Plus, there's nothing a little wine can't fix after Shoko has actually fixed you.

You shiver a little as you pull Gojos' jacket a little tighter around yourself. The cold air is making the wetness of your panties a lot more obvious, and your cheeks burn with both shame and alcohol as you walk unsteadily back to that fancy ass car you knew Gojo would have driven all the way here.

"You know," Gojo says with a joy in his voice that makes you wince. It's never a good sign when he's confident, even less when he's full on grinning like a shark down at you. "I know you've made yourself all messy just thinking about my offer."

Fuck. This was a trap.

"You've been avoiding my calls," Gojo continues, sniffing as he opens the back door to his car, patiently waiting for you to slide yourself onto the seats, which you do albeit a little hesitantly.

The cold leather against your wet panties has you biting your lip and Gojo just grins at you, leaning on the car door all cocky with his frustrating smirk as he asks you; "You sure I can't convince you?"

Your hand clutches your skirt a little too tightly, the black Jujutsu uniform that was built to be lightweight suddenly feeling suffocating.

"I meant it-" You start, as you look back at him with fluttering eyelashes and a semi-serious expression. You pout your lips purposefully as you spread your legs the tiniest amount, anticipation shooting through your spine as you notice him start to breathe harder. "My panties, staying on."

An odd hill for you to die on, but apparently it wasn't a hill that would stop Gojo as he's clambering into the back of the car and folding his long legs with a heavy 'fuck'.

You let out a moan as you look down in front of you, Gojo is balancing himself in-between the sets of seats so that he can be eye-level with your cunt, bandana pushed up into that messy white hair as his eyes practically glow in the dark car. It's electric the way he looks at you, and you bite your hand as he lowers his nose, breathing in the scent of your arousal with a low groan.

"Not a problem, princess."

"You're such a freak," You breathe out, but you aren't really one to talk as you feel yourself getting even wetter as he nips and bites at your plush thighs. You rest your head on the headrest as you shuffle your hips down, letting out a little sob as Gojos' tongue finally drags its way up your wet underwear.

It's perverted, the way that it gets you wriggling and writhing. That wet cotton sticks to you as he starts swirling his tongue on your clit, the texture of the fabric dragging against you with each movement making the pleasure all that more unbelievable.

It's wet, spit and slick noises filling the car as he groans and whines into your pussy, thanking you over and over as he palms himself, never faltering in his open-mouthed kisses to your pretty pink lacy panties, suckling gently over the slightly raised mound of your clit after at least ten minutes of teasing.

"Fuck, I-" You breathe out, the air so thick that your chest is heaving. Your thighs are aching from the way he's using both strong hands to hold them open, your hands buried in those snowy locks as you force his mouth to where you want it, practically riding his face in the back of his fancy-ass car. "Holy shit, I'm going to cum."

Gojo just nods desperately through your struggling words, jaw and tongue moving even faster as he whines with flushed cheeks and spit-shiny lips into you, his hand leaving one of your thighs to rub himself off, and that sight is what gets you shaking.

"Fuck, Gojo." You whine as you reach your peak, hips stuttering and fingers tightening in his hair. The sight of him sobbing into your pussy as his chest tinges pink and the front of his pants get darker has you staggering through a second wave, your orgasm dripping through your panties sluggishly and covering the back seat of the car. "Holy shit."

Gojo pulls back, absolutely wrecked. His face is adorably pink, eyes half-lidded as he looks at you with a satisfaction that has your heart stuttering. There's your slickness spread across his lips and chin, and he gathers it with his thumb just to push it past his own lips with a cocky grin, all teeth and charm as you curse.

"Still going to ignore me?"

And ignore him you did, or you tried.

But the stuffy conference room is getting unbearably warm as you shift in your seat, willing your throbbing cunt to stop as you avoid Gojos' gaze across the table.

He's sitting in that ridiculous way he does, ass half in his seat as he sits like its his own personal throne, long legs hanging over the edge of it as he makes a show of dragging his tongue up and down the popsicle he'd opted to eat in the middle of the meeting, much to your own dismay.

The incredibly boring old bastards just sneer at him with disgust as he joyfully sucks on his fingers, swirling his tongue to collect all that sticky juice that had dribbled past his lips and onto those long digits.

It's like your own personal torture, and you bite your lip and send a quick prayer that the ancient elders are too busy scolding your coworker to notice the way your own hand is buried in between your thighs, your skirt just long enough to cover the way your fingers are driving themselves in and out of your pussy.

As an elder starts talking about the newest development in the Zen'in council, you take the time to wiggle out of your panties, leaving them hanging around your ankle riskily.

Your cheeks burn and your heart is hammering as you glance around the table, eyes shifting between your unknowing audience as you force yourself to be quiet.

That pressure is building up your spine, your thighs aching as you shift in your seat, stammering out a quick reply as the man closest to your right asks if you need a break.

"She's alright," Gojo waves his hand as he replies, although you notice his ears are pink and there's a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. "Fed up of you old bastards, I'm sure."

You shake your head in disagreement, and your fingers are buried knuckle deep in your pussy as you stop for a breath, terrified to move in fear of being caught. There's juices leaking around your fingers, the chair slippery as your folds slide against the chair as you wiggle yourself, full of impatience despite your mental battle.

There's a buzz of your phone, and you bite your lip, glancing around you before deeming it safe enough to check. Your breath leaves you in a half-disguised moan that goes unnoticed around the table as you read it.

Gojo: don't stop now, I know ur close

You could almost cry as you lock eyes with him, and he just winks before divulging into another complaint about an improperly labelled curse. It all turns into background noise as you continue to bully your own cunt, wet walls hugging your fingers tightly as you get closer and closer.

Burying your chin into your chest as you start to reach your peak, tears burn in your eyes as you feel that familiar wet heat stirring in your gut. Fuck, not now.

You panic and make frantic eye contact with your friend across the table, but it's too late as you stutter and your fingers curl just right. Gojo's eyes widen slightly, and he's coughing just loud enough to cover the wet sound of your release flooding the chair.

Thankfully, the elders are already taking their leave, the nicest of them all wishing you better health as he leaves with a polite bow, and you just stammer out a weak 'thank you'.

The silence of the room is embarrassingly loud as you're left to shimmer your panties back on properly, the fabric wet with your own squirt as you wince at the wet-on-wet sensation, too caught up in your own head to notice the way Gojo has stalked his way over.

"What are you-" You try to complain, but it's stolen from you as he shoves your chair away from the table, already sinking to his knees in front of you, groaning at the way your juices spill onto his pants. "Gojo, please."

"Yeah," He replies hoarsely, already pushing his bandana up to keep his hair out of the way as he buries his face where you begged for it, his nose rubbing against your clit as you sob and writhe. "Fuck. You're too much, baby."

"Not your baby," You whine out as his tongue pushes against your clothed folds, making it even more wet and lewd than it already is.

You outright moan as his fingers peel the wet fabric to the side, one of those long digits sliding all the way into your cunt, curling up and finding that spongy spot immediately, already working on milking a second orgasm out of you.

It's embarrassing how fast that high is creeping up your spine, the way your clit pulses and the way your walls tighten as Gojo sets to work, that overly obnoxious mouth for once silent as its full of you.

The sounds of Gojos' sloppy make-out session with your pussy filling the silent room, and you bite your hand to stop yourself from crying out as your toes curl in anticipation.

It's always so intense with Gojo, those damn Six Eyes knowing every inch of your body biblically and hitting those pleasure points ruthlessly - all you can do is hang on as best you can. And that's what you do, shaking fingers weaving into his hair as you pull and twist and whine as he alternates between delicate circles and hard swipes with his tongue.

The sloppy and wet sounds of your pussy pull you out of that foggy haze, your folds slick and shining from where they're parted with Gojos' nose, his blue eyes focused on you as he pumps his fingers in and out to the rhythm of his tongue. You babble something incoherent as your orgasm builds, your back tensing as you feel that unmistakable wave.

Gojo just curls his fingers once more and holds the pressure, his other hand pressing down on your lower belly, making you practically shout as you gush down his forearm, the force of it almost making you black out as it lasts forever.

And he sweet talks you the whole time.

"So fucking good princess, fuck, look gorgeous-shit" He groans, eyes rolling back as he fucks his own fist, panting and looking up at you with pleading eyes and flushed cheeks. "Let me finish on you, please."

You whimper out a 'yeah, do it baby' and that's all it takes for that milky-white sticky cum to paint your stomach, some of it hitting your chin as you moan, taking in the way his eyes screw shut and his jaw locks as he strokes himself through it.

Gojo whispers out a hoarse 'thanks' before his forehead rests against your thighs, he kisses and bites them gently as he regains his breath, and you soothe the pulled locks of hair with your fingertips.

If only you weren't planning on calling in sick to completely avoid him tomorrow.

That plan only worked for so long, there's only so many times you can ask to trade missions before people start to get curious, especially Nanami.

"You won't work with him, and that's not what's best efficient for the entire team."

You groan as you walk, dragging your feet and hanging your head as you follow him to the hall. He's not wrong, but how do you tell your perfectly respectable friend that the reason you can't work with him is because you act like a bitch in heat whenever you see his stupid fucking face?

"Perhaps," Nanami hesitates as he speaks, that normally monotone voice breaking unevenly. You look up at him curiously, only to find him watching you kindly already. "You could try to transfer?"

To Kyoto? Yeah. No thanks. You scoff to yourself, hoping he doesn't pick up on it. If he does, he's too gentlemanly to say anything, unlike a certain somebody.

"It's alright, I'll talk to him tonight after some liquid courage." You affirm, hoping you sound a lot more confident than you feel as you reach out for the door with a shaking hand.

Tonight being the staff party that Gojo and Shoko insisted on. You'd be lying if you weren't a little bit hopeful, your best baby-blue lacy set sitting neatly underneath a low-cut black cocktail dress. Normally, you'd say this is how you always dressed for a party. And normally, Nanami would pretend you were telling the truth.

"You're too good for him." Nanami simply says as you both step in, already cringing at the volume level. Both Tokyo and Kyoto teachers had come together, meaning the more rowdy bunch from Kyoto were already leading the party. "If you need me, text. Try not to, though."

And with that, you're alone.

You hum to the music, swaying a little bit as you make your way to the drinks table without looking like it was your one and only goal. You probably fail, but Shoko is there to hand you a red plastic cup and grin at you as you sigh in relief at the strong smell emanating from it.

"He's gone to get ice." She simply says, rolling her eyes at your fake attempt to seem uninterested. "In fact, he's been a while. Check that he hasn't warped himself into a coma, will you?"

You startle a bit at that, cradling your cup to your chest as you read her face for any tells that she's lying.

"He's done that?" You ask doubtfully, but you've already set your cup down in preparation for the hunt down.

"Not since we were kids." Shoko shrugs, and then she's shooing you off.

It doesn't take long, there's only so many freezers in the building, and there was no way he as hiding in the main kitchen. No, he's in the stupid dorm kitchen that you all used to share as kids.

"You get lost?" He calls out to you as you curse at the cold air, hands rubbing your arms as you step through the doorway with an unimpressed pout. "Ice machine is taking a while, tell Shoko to cool her tits."

"Incredible," You mutter as you take in his outfit. Tight black pants paired with a cream sweater that's practically hanging off his sharp collarbones, his hair down for once. He also has those sunglasses on that you find hot, despite being nothing particularly special. "You're almost thirty, stop talking like a frat boy."

He pouts at that, faking a tear-wipe with his finger as he hangs his head. You resist a smile as you watch him, instead choosing to hop up onto the counter with practised ease from your youth.

"Can't you like, infinity it faster?" You ask, just to wind him up. All these years, an on and off relationship, and you still pretend to not understand his technique because you know that really gets under his skin.

"You suck." Gojo says as he sticks his tongue out, but you see the way his eyes undress you, the way he lingers his gaze on your thighs. You sigh, and shimmy your hips down.

"I'd offer to get undressed, but something tells me you'd prefer me to keep the panties on."

That has him freezing from his current path towards that sweet spot between your thighs, looking up at you like a deer caught in headlights. You just hum, spreading your thighs.

"Well go on then," You say nonchalantly, letting your thighs fall even more open, exposing the flimsy black lace that covers your pretty pussy, the sheen of arousal already evident. "You have five minutes before Shoko and Nanami come looking for me."

Gojo lets out a cocky laugh, pulling his sweater off as he rolls his neck. Those ridiculous abs already pulled tight as he crouches, looking up at you under those stupid sunglasses that you love so much;

"Plenty of time."

You just laugh through your own moans as he gets to work.

Gojo never thought he'd get the chance to taste you so freely, after you broke things off the last time he thought that might have been it. But he's Satoru Gojo, he wouldn't be himself if he didn't push his luck, especially with you.

The first time he eats you out with your panties still on, it's an accident. One of the last times you'd been together, you were wearing this honey gold set that had drove him crazy, his spit and your slick mixing so deliciously over that fucking lace that it unlocked something in him.

Then, you'd decided that what you both had wasn't working, and all he was left with was that pair of honey gold lace panties to work over his dick desperately as he chased that memory of the way you came with your panties half-stuffed inside you from his tongue.

When he'd gotten the chance to eat you out after that visit from the bar, he'd been so excited to get his tongue on you, on that rough lace, that as soon as you'd finished all over his tongue, that honey-sweet thick taste that drove him crazy, he'd cum in his pants like a horny teenager.

The second time he was more prepared, as soon as he'd noticed your beautiful flushed cheeks as you wiggled across the table from him, he'd used his Six Eyes to watch your every move, getting harder and harder as you got yourself off in a room full of unsuspecting old geezers. It took everything in him not to bust as you fucking squirted, his cough managing to cover that lewd sound that drove him crazy. As you got yourself through that haze, he'd told them all to get fucked and that he'd talk with them one-by-one at a later date.

Getting on his knees and holding your knees up as he cleaned you up through your dripping wet finish was the next best thing to being in you. And your reaction when he'd added a single finger? Fuck.

The staff party was his final straw, eating you out and holding your hips as you rode his face in your old dorms, even though you knew his perverted little secret. He knew he had to patch things up with you.

Currently, he's up to the hilt in you, rubbing soothing circles into the plush flesh of your thigh as you breathe through the sudden fullness of him. All that smart-mouthing you loved to do to him, gone the second he'd peeled the pretty purple panties to the side and slid right in.

Your walls are so tight, pussy so fucking perfect. And he tells you, whispers it right into your ear as he rocks gently into you despite the urge to fuck you raw.

"Shut the fuck up, Satoru." You'd moaned back, still as feisty as the day you'd met. He grinned into your shoulder, biting down onto your ear lobe as he tuts his disapproval.

"If you truly hated me, you wouldn't keep wearing these frilly little things." And he watched in total satisfaction as you turned a cute shade of pink.

Yeah. Fucking made for him, alright.

And if you used his black card to purchase as many lace sets as you could find, who was he to stop you?

[ropebuny]

oh no of course !!! you’re definitely right, thank you so much for this addition it’s an important aspect of it all to consider. my addition of the dom giving the sub impossible to complete tasks was brought up because I personally have had that happen to me and my ex partner, and I personally found it really hot because I had a suspicion that they were essentially lying in order to be hot and make me all needy and frustrated. and I knew that they would never actually be upset with me, we had a very trusting and respectful relationship so I definitely think that something as serious as indulging in an impossible task would DEFINITELY need some discussion beforehand between the two, the dom seeing how the sub feels about it. and I mentioned these impossible scenarios with the possibility of the sub using the safeword if they felt the need to do so in mind. but of course when it comes to the sub feeling the need to voice the safe word, feelings can already be extremely hurt and the trust feel disrespected. so I definitely agree with your addition heavily, maybe these people are just not compatible. this guy definitely should have just communicated with his sub about what he expects/wants/desires from her and her doing the same for him. my addition of impossible tasks was just meant to be something to be considered as a more fun way to deal with punishment, if maybe at the moment the ‘standard’ rules feel too ‘boring’ like the original guy complained about. and how it should only be implemented once the once the dom had full confidence that it wouldn’t hurt the sub emotionally, and knowing their personal limits since you really need to be extra careful in kink and especially when dealing with punishments. I know that I definitely would not appreciate if someone that I did not feel confident with just started to gaslight me like that, but when that scenario happened between me and my ex partner who I trusted wholeheartedly, it was a very hot and enjoyable experience for me. or maybe I am very trusting of my dom but in the moment, I am just not in the right headspace to be treated like that. so the dom should definitely be extra careful when dealing with such scenarios which can easily be hurtful to the sub on an emotional level, it’s not something to be careless with. it definitely all depends on the person and their limits, and the dom should never push these. I also never wanted my post as coming across as me saying the dom should implement these and only these, because as another person has voiced, these impossible to win tasks can definitely become old so so incredibly fast. my intention was to perhaps voice how kink doesn’t have to be ‘boring’ like that guy was complaining about, maybe the sub and dom can experiment with non ‘standard’ rules to how kink is believed to work. I wanted to bring attention to how kink can be and should be creative, but these scenarios definitely all depend on the person and what kind of sub they are and for the dom to be aware of the risks of implementing these strategies as to not hurt their sub emotionally.

kink communities definitely have a soft spot for brats while belittling subs who are “too good/obedient” as if that was even a thing… obedience, especially such that is soo devoted and dedicated like the op’s sub, should be praised and respected. while that guy seemed to not realise just how much of an honor it was for his sub to be so incredibly committed to being obedient for him

thank you so much for bringing up this important aspect of it all, I really appreciate you taking the time to open up and share your thoughts and disdain for it, I never meant my addition of impossible tasks to be seen as something to be used against subs to fuck with them and break them on and hurt them on an emotional level which they would not appreciate. it’s a sensitive issue and it definitely NEEDS to be handled with proper care and respect to the sub from the dom. and in my mind when I was adding that aspect of it to the text post, I had my personal experience in mind which was very enjoyable because I felt incredibly safe with the person I was doing it with and the fact that I caught onto the fact that they were fucking with me on purpose. but I definitely should have mentioned how careful you must be when dealing with gaslighting in play like that, because it’s definitely not something to just fuck around with carelessly, so thank you so much for your addition !!

saw a guy on here complaining about how disappointing it sometimes is to have such a good and obedient little girl, how when she obediently pulls up her skirt and counts all the spanks without messing up it gets boring because there’s no fun in it since it can’t be counted as a punishment anymore. my brother in christ how can you ever become bored or disappointed or feel that it’s not of any ‘fun’ when someone is so endlessly devoted to you and is so so obedient and obeys your every command and would do anything to make you proud. that level of obedience takes real dedication and a really strong willpower and a really strong and committed mind. you’d never catch me calling that boring or disappointing, ever. it’s the farthest thing from it, and frankly it should be praised instead

[onehundredelevven]

Hello there, merry belated Christmas (if you celebrate)! I hope all is well ❤️ I have a request how about something angsty, but with a happy ending. This will be for JJK. Fem reader suspects her lover is cheating on them with their ex. this is due to the ex creating fake texts or doing something scandalous to set the men up to trick the reader. And the “evidence “ they provide is very convincing, unfortunately. The men have to find a way to win them back and prove their innocence. You can choose to do either a mini story or general head cannons, whichever is easier for you ☺️ as for which JJK male, you choose. But I do love Gojo, so please include him. Thanks so much! Take care ❤️❤️❤️

Hello Anon~ merry belated Christmas too ! Here's your request !!

JJK Men proving their faithfulness to you.

content: JJK Men x reader, hurt with comfort

☆☆☆

Satoru Gojo

☆When you confront him, Gojo initially laughs it off, thinking you're joking. But when he sees the hurt in your eyes, his expression turns serious.

☆“You think I would cheat on you? Baby, look at me. I could have anyone I want, and I chose you. What does that tell you?” It sounds cocky, but it’s his way of trying to reassure you.

☆The “evidence” hits him like a truck, especially when you mention it involves his ex. His playful demeanor drops completely.

☆He investigates obsessively, pulling every string he has. When he finds out his ex fabricated the texts, he makes sure they’ll regret ever messing with your relationship.

☆To prove his loyalty, he takes you somewhere significant—a quiet shrine at sunset where he confesses all his vulnerabilities. “I know I joke around a lot, but I don’t with you. You’re my everything, okay? Please don’t doubt that.”

---

Suguru Geto

☆When you confront Suguru, he’s calm but visibly pained by your accusation. “Do you really think I’d betray you like that?” he asks, his voice quiet but firm.

☆The fake messages shake him because they do look convincing. Still, he keeps his composure and promises, “I’ll clear this up, just trust me for now.”

☆Suguru digs into the situation like a detective, finding subtle inconsistencies in the texts and proving his ex’s deceit.

☆To win you back, he pens a heartfelt letter, explaining how much you mean to him and how he would never jeopardize what you have. He delivers it in person, sitting with you until you’re ready to forgive him.

---

Nanami Kento

☆Nanami takes your accusation with devastating seriousness. His brow furrows, and he listens carefully to everything you say. “If this is how you feel, I won’t dismiss it. But I need you to believe me when I say it’s not true.”

☆The texts from his ex make his jaw tighten. “That woman is trying to cause trouble. I’ll handle this.”

☆He wastes no time confronting his ex, collecting receipts, and presenting them to you methodically, like a courtroom defense.

☆Nanami shows his love through action. After clearing things up, he surprises you with a quiet dinner at your favorite restaurant. Over candlelight, he takes your hand and says, “I’ll never let anyone come between us again. You’re all I need.”

---

Toji Fushiguro

☆Toji laughs bitterly when you accuse him, but it’s not out of amusement—it’s disbelief. “You really think I’d go back to her?”

☆The fake evidence pisses him off. “That snake’s been causing problems for years. I should’ve known she’d try something like this.”

☆He tracks down his ex in record time, not mincing words or threats. Once he has proof of her lies, he drags himself back to you, guilt written all over his face.

☆“Look, I’m not good at this stuff, but you gotta know I wouldn’t mess this up. You’re too important to me.” He leaves the decision in your hands, but his sincerity is undeniable.

---

Ryomen Sukuna

☆Sukuna’s pride takes a hit when you accuse him. “You think I’d stoop so low as to sneak around? If I didn’t want you, I’d tell you to your face.”

☆He scoffs at the “evidence” at first, but when he realizes how much it’s shaken you, his expression hardens. “Whoever’s behind this is dead. Simple as that.”

☆He confronts his ex with terrifying intensity, uncovering the truth and making sure they won’t try anything like this again.

☆To prove his loyalty, Sukuna softens—just a little. He sits with you, looking you in the eye, and says, “You’re mine, and I’m yours. Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”

---

Choso Kamo

☆Choso’s reaction is pure heartbreak. “You… you think I’d do that to you?” His eyes well up, and his voice trembles as he tries to process your accusation.

☆The fabricated texts devastate him, but he refuses to let them ruin your relationship. “I’ll fix this. Please don’t give up on me.”

☆He works tirelessly to prove his innocence, eventually gathering enough evidence to expose his ex’s scheme.

☆Choso is a quiet but passionate lover. After everything is resolved, he holds you close, whispering, “I don’t want to lose you. You’re the only one I’ve ever cared for like this.”

---

Shiu Kong

☆Shiu’s sharp eyes narrow when you bring up the accusation. “You think I’d waste my time on an ex when I have you?” His tone is clipped, but you can tell the idea hurts him.

☆He examines the “evidence” like it’s a case file, immediately noticing details that don’t add up. “This is amateur work,” he mutters before setting out to expose the truth.

☆Once he clears his name, Shiu sits you down and pours you a glass of wine. “I’m not a saint, but I’d never cheat on you. You’re the only one who’s ever made me want to stay.”

---

Hiromi Higuruma

☆Hiromi listens patiently as you explain the situation, his expression unreadable. “I understand why you’re upset,” he says carefully. “But I promise you, I’m not lying.”

☆He meticulously analyzes the fake texts, his legal mind working overtime to find inconsistencies.

☆Hiromi confronts his ex with calm but firm resolve, collecting a confession and bringing it to you. “I’d never do something so cruel. I hope this proves that.”

☆To make amends, Hiromi takes you on a quiet date, away from the chaos, and reassures you with every word and gesture that his heart is yours alone.

[onlyrains]

[5:21pm]

genre: comfort, fluff wc: 1.1k ┊not proofread!

you are nothing near from being the greatest singer of the century, to begin with. you're not even a singer at all. but layla, a border collie of your best friend's–jake, might be your first fan ever.

whenever she sees you around in some comfortable circumstances, she's never hesitate to lay down beside you and sometimes even rest her jaw on your thigh. on top of that, one day when jake come to your place to check on you while you lay sick on your bed, she also lies and put her paw on your arm.

she keeps ignoring her nature as one of the most active and energetic breed and you have a soft spot for her also. so of course, you always gladly sing for her. you even made a playlist to sing for her, which full of coldplay's old songs that you found she loves the most.

as an owner, jake found this quite beneficial sometimes when he needs to done his things but very much confused at the same time. what's up with your voice? he's a good singer too. people even recognize him for that. but why's his dog, his best buddy, his love, never react the way she does for you?

"she's my child, jake." you always say.

"stop saying that. i literally clean, do the chores, and work for her?" and he always replies.

today, as he promised yesterday, he came to your place with layla. and no, you're not sick today, it's apparently the opposite. he arrived with a pissed, frustrated face and refuse to talk fifteen minutes ago. he's just walks around your living room with his disheveled white office shirt.

you continue to read your book while playing with layla's hair and humming to coldplay's song. you make sure to open your bedroom door widely to let him know that he can come in when he's ready. it's not the first time you've seen jake in this state and you know the best way to deal with it is just let him do anything he wants. he will talk about it when he's tired.

speaking of which, the tail of your eye catches his movement towards you. well, maybe it is a very serious matter since he has never got tired this quick.

"what's up?" you snap, closing your book on your stomach. layla got up at your sudden movement as she sees her owner walks in your direction. she jumps on the floor and her favorite song is now long gone.

"jake?" he sits on layla's spot earlier and lets out a deep sigh.

"it's work." his eyes looking at the white sheets beneath him and draw an imaginary circle with his index.

"i know. wanna talk about it?"

he drags his body to lay next to you, head burried in your pillow while his arms stretched out to his side and your neck, almost choking you.

"i don't know, girl. i'm just... tired."

"is it that bad?" you ask carefully.

he nods. "there's a problem with the project and this mf blame me for it," he groans. thank god your pillow muffled his voice.

"oh? what a prick."

"can you sing for me?" he raises his head.

you never turn your head so fast.

"what?" you blurt out a laugh.

he lies on his side, perfectly facing you. "oh, c'mon. you always make layla chill out with it."

"but you're not layla?"

"i'm her owner, you know. she's my daughter. like father like dau–"

"okay, stop. you started sound silly,"

"babe, c'mon. i just need to sleep. you know how much effort i put on this project? i barely had a proper sleep,"

as soon as that pet name came out of his mouth you know it's hard to win over him. he will starts pleading as soon as he can, so you let out a heavy sigh and stretch your arm reluctantly.

"c'mere,"

the next thing you know, he already burried his head on your shoulder. well, actually, this is your first time being this close with him in this kind of position despite your nth years of friendship.

so when he’s seemingly already found his spot on the crook of your neck, you can't help but squirm a little, but jake is too quick to catch your waist to prevent you from moving anywhere.

"don't move." he says against your neck.

you bite your inner cheek to hold back a sharp gasp that almost come out of nowhere.

you take a deep breath before placing your hand on his head, brushing his hair lightly. you decide to continue to sing to spark, which was previously forcibly cut off.

"my heart is yours," you start to whisper.

"it's you that i hold on to,

that's what i do,

and i know i was wrong,

but i won't let you down,

mmm, yeah, i will, yeah, i will, yes, i will," your voice get slightly lower.

"i said, oh,

i cry, oh,

yeah, i saw sparks,

yeah, i saw sparks." you massage his scalp lightly.

"sing it out,

la la la la la la,"

you feel his breathing becomes steady while in fact he's just enjoying his action to inhaling your scent that mixed with a soft fragrant from your newly washed sweater. he has never been this relax in a long time.

you keep on with the lyrics in humming as your eyes glued to the plain ceiling of your room. you feel his arm is still lazily attached to your waist then what are you doing, really? is it normal to cuddle your friend from high school? is it okay to comfort your guy friend like this?

you haven't finished think about that but jake already raised his head.

his eyes slightly red from the drowsiness that suddenly hit him but the smile on his mouth is as wide as ever. "y'know, layla actually has a good taste."

a heat suddenly strikes your cheek, causing it to turn to a shade of red.

his head turns to his dog on the floor. "dang, my girl is talented, for real."

you roll your eyes at him. "okay, now move."

he's quick to back on his previous spot, even more suffocating right now as he pulls you impossibly close to his body.

he tilts his head upward to face you. his wet eyes stares at you so innocently, which quite opposite to his actions that practically hugging you so tight while trying to sleep.

"ey, c'mon, don't be so stingy," he snuggles to you, again.

you bite your lip this time. maybe you just as tired as him, but you swear, you saw the sparks.

[namism]

Request: Heyyy!

I saw that you were requesting some fics, I was wondering if you could do a Trafalagr Law fic where Y/n or You has a flavored lipgloss gloss (any flavor), you could take it any direction you want!

Thank you and have a nice holiday!! ❤️

citrus | trafalgar d. law

➳ categories: canonverse, gender neutral reader, established relationship

➳ warnings: slight nsfw (detailed kissing)

➳ word count: 1.1k

➳ summary: Law isn't a fan of your flavored lipsticks and glosses when he tastes the flavor of Japanese plums, but you think you just found an alternative.

➳ notes: thanks for the request! ❤️ law canonically doesn't like umeboshi (pickled japanese plums), but for the sake of the fic, i made him a fruit hater ☠️ happy holidays, everyone!

➳ cross-posted on ao3

Before you began dating Law, you didn't expect him to be the many things that he currently is to you. To start, Law presents himself differently in front of many people that his attitude in dealings pretty much boils down to who he's talking to. As once a stranger to his crew, you saw a side of Law that was meant for business, a side of him so serious and monotonous that over time, became bothersome to deal with.

Yet you persisted through his seemingly dull personality until one piece fit into the other and you decided to date.

A relationship so sweet yet so unexpected, you learned many things about Law that he never would have thought of telling you, things about him that he always kept secret, locked inside his heart or his thoughts. Things that he could only say to his closest friends, others only for the ears of his lover.

That is to say, before you began dating Law, you didn't expect him to be a kisser.

He kisses you all the time, but the depth and length of his kisses vary. On some days, he would peck your lips. On others, he would peck your cheek. On most days, he would take his time kissing your lips. He can't help it—he scored a goal by dating you, and it gives him the peace of mind that he's the only one who can kiss you the way he does.

As much as he loves kissing you, however, there is one thing that deters him from doing so on rare occasions.

Your lipgloss.

He can explain—he generally has no problem with you and your cosmetics, secretly even liking it when you kiss him on the cheek and your lipstick leaves a faint mark on his tan skin, but he does have a problem when he kisses your glossed lips and tastes the faint flavor of fruit, some of them which he likes, some not so much. You love wearing different pigments on your lips, different products and brands that make your face look much more colorful, more full, so you often rotate among your collection of lipsticks and glosses, each one surprising your boyfriend whenever you greet him with a sweet and colorful kiss.

Law loves that you feel beautiful in your own skin to wear all of the makeup that you do, but he has a great distaste for some of your lip products. The flavored ones, to be exact. He's not a big fan of fruit (ironic, he knows, since he's literally a doctor), so he freezes up whenever he kisses you and tastes the flavor on your lips. You always make sure to tease him whenever he does so, calling him a big baby for not liking the taste.

"Oh? What's with the long face?" You once picked on your boyfriend as his lips flattened into a tight line after a short kiss. Law usually smiled afterward.

"You taste like plum," he said. Your eyebrows furrowed.

"Sad about it, are we? You hate my lipgloss?"

"It reminds me of that pickled snack Bepo eats." He shrugged, a chill running down his spine upon remembering the taste of Bepo's strange snack. Umeboshi, Bepo called it. Law could never get past its sour and salty flavor.

From that day onward, you would dodge Law's kisses whenever you happen to be wearing the ume-flavored gloss on your lips, often choosing to send a flying kiss toward his way as an alternative. When you visit Sabaody Archipelago, however, an idea comes to mind.

With the Polar Tang docked somewhere in the outer groves, you bid them goodbye as you make your way to Grove 30 for the island's shopping mall, where you stumble upon a vast selection of cosmetics. Eyes shining brightly, you indulge yourself in retail therapy as you blow your money out on the finest products you could find. When you walk past a stall vending a particular item, you halt in your tracks and come running back.

A lady sits behind the stand, her features telling of her youthful age. She smiles as you point at the array of lipgloss on the table, and urges you to swatch them out on your hand.

"That one's flavored," she says matter-of-factly as you hold a yellow tube in one hand. You read the printed label. Lemon.

"Do you have anything else?" you ask.

"I've got a lot to show you!"

As the lady disappears under the stand to rack for the new line of glosses, a smirk forms on your lips, the pit of your stomach turning in excitement.

When you come back to the Polar Tang, your excitement is apparent to your crewmates who wonder where you've been. You provide them with a giggle in response before you skip happily to your Captain's quarters.

You knock on the door. Law grants you entry a few seconds later.

"Miss me?" you tease him as he steps aside to let you in. You drop your bags to the ground, while he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Where have you been?" he asks.

"Just went shopping, like I told you."

He shrugs. He doesn't think much of it, assuming that you just had a few hours of fun to yourself before you set sail again. His hands drop to the side when you approach him for a kiss, your hands gliding across his chest before encircling his neck.

Before you can kiss him, however, he stops you abruptly.

"I smell something," he notes. He sniffs the air and looks at you questioningly. "It smells good."

You bite down on your lip discreetly to keep yourself from laughing. "How does it smell?"

"Like citrus," he answers. "Is that... you?"

Standing on your tippy toes, you move your face closer to his.

"Find out for yourself."

Law leans into you when you successfully catch his lips, his eyebrows jumping upon tasting yours. He notes the citrus flavor that he detected just a few seconds ago and almost scoffs at your little ruse. Expecting him to pull away, you sigh in relief when he leans further down to deepen the kiss, his hands coming to rest on the small of your back.

Law tugs on your upper lip slowly, eliciting a moan from the back of your throat. He swipes his tongue on your lower lip to taste the flavor of lemon, and repeats it so often until you're losing your breath.

Pushing away, you gasp for air.

"So? Do you hate it?" you ask breathlessly.

"No, I'm into it," he mumbles, pulling you in closer. "Another one, please."

The pit of your stomach stirs in need as he holds you intimately close. You peck his lips and pull him to the other side of his quarters, laughing to yourself at the turn of events.

You guess you just found your default lip combo. Law liked it more than expected, after all.

[estellan0vella]

Never Felt Safer: B.C & H.J Bang Chan x fem!reader x Han Jisung (College AU)

WC: 17.4K

CW: Anxiety, panic attacks, pre-established relationship between Chan and Jisung, implied sex, mxm scenes, Minlix in the background, simp Chansung, pining Chansung, twin!Felix, protective!Felix, Comforting!Minho

The Alpha Phi living room smells like a mix of old pizza, faint cologne, and someone's leftover gym socks, probably Changbin's, based on the guilty glance he shoots toward the corner of the couch. Felix lounges at the centre of the chaos, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle on the coffee table, holding a Red Bull like it’s his life force.

“Alright, listen up, dickheads zero through five,” Felix announces, voice cutting through the buzz of chatter like a knife.

Minho, seated next to him with his arms casually sprawled across the back of the couch, raises an eyebrow. “Not me, though, right?”

Felix tilts his head toward Minho with a smirk. “Not you, Min. You’re an evil angel, and I love having you here.”

Minho grins, sharp and smug, clearly revelling in the attention. Jisung immediately leans forward from his perch on the floor, waving a hand. “What number am I?”

“Two,” Felix says without hesitation, pointing at him with the Red Bull. “Chan’s number one.”

Jisung’s face splits into a shit-eating grin, and he wiggles his eyebrows at Chan, who’s perched in the armchair nearby with his usual relaxed confidence. Without any preamble, Jisung climbs into Chan’s lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world, snuggling against him and fiddling with a fidget cube. Chan chuckles, resting one hand on Jisung’s hip.

“Fine with me,” Jisung mutters, twisting the cube over and over. “I’ll take number two if it means I get first dibs on this guy.”

“Gross,” Seungmin deadpans from the other couch, tossing a pillow in their direction. “We get it, you’re disgustingly in love.”

“Jealous?” Jisung fires back, not missing a beat.

“Hard pass.”

Jeongin, who’s been scrolling on his phone next to Seungmin, pipes up. “So, what’s up? You’re building to something.”

Felix straightens, his expression growing just a little more serious. “My sister’s coming over tomorrow.”

Immediately, a wave of groans rolls through the room, but Felix cuts them off with a sharp glare. “Shut the fuck up and listen, okay? She’s coming over to practice some SFX on me and Minho, and you know how anxious she is. So no scaring her, got it? I’m looking at you, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin, sprawled dramatically across the other armchair with his long legs dangling over one side, raises both hands in mock surrender. “What the fuck did I do?”

“You almost gave her a stroke last time,” Felix snaps, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Which is why you’re dickhead zero, the eternal source of my disdain, affectionately, of course.”

“I told her she looked pretty!” Hyunjin protests, clearly offended. “How is that a crime?”

“You terrified her with your pretty frat boy bullshit!” Felix throws his hands up. “She has anxiety, you dumbass, and you made her turtle.”

Hyunjin blinks. “Turtle?”

Felix rolls his eyes so hard it’s a wonder they don’t get stuck. “Disappear inside her shell. Like turtles do, idiot.”

Minho, watching the exchange with a small smirk, finally chimes in. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep them reined in.”

Felix blows Minho a kiss, the pink tips of his ears betraying his casual tone. “Thanks, Min.”

The room erupts into groans and exaggerated gagging sounds, but Felix ignores them. He levels the rest of the group with a sharp look. “Best behaviour. You hear me?”

A collective murmur of agreement goes around the room. Changbin nods solemnly. “Got it, chief.”

“Scout’s honour,” Seungmin says, holding up three fingers.

Felix doesn’t even pause before snapping back, “You were never a scout a day in your life. Shut the fuck up.”

Minho chuckles low in his throat, and Felix shoots him a fond glance before continuing. “Minho’s the only one who doesn’t freak her out, so the rest of you better leave her alone. She’s coming here to practice, not to deal with you idiots.”

Jeongin, ever the instigator, smirks. “The only reason Minho doesn’t freak her out is because you and him see her once a week for dinner at her apartment. Brother, sister, and brother’s sort-of-undefined-but-basically-dating boyfriend.”

Felix’s ears turn a brighter shade of pink, and he sputters, “That’s not—”

“It was a process, believe us,” Minho interrupts smoothly, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand. He gives Jeongin a slow, deliberate wink. “But you’re not wrong.”

“See?” Jeongin shrugs. “I’m just saying.”

The room falls into a comfortable rhythm of teasing and chatter, but two pairs of eyes linger on Felix for just a moment longer than the rest. Chan’s and Jisung’s. Chan’s gaze softens as it shifts, landing on the small space between Felix’s explanation and the mention of his sister.

Jisung catches Chan’s look, his lips quirking up into a knowing smile. It’s the same thought, unspoken but clear between them: tomorrow’s visit isn’t just about SFX practice.

It’s about seeing you.

The Alpha Phi house looms in front of you, just as chaotic and intimidating as always. The faint sounds of bass-heavy music thrum from somewhere inside, even though it’s not even noon.

You take a deep breath and clutch the strap of your makeup case tighter. The last time you knocked on this door without a plan, Hyunjin had answered, and your anxiety had spiralled out of control before you’d even crossed the threshold.

Not this time. Felix and Minho are already outside, leaning casually against the porch railing, waiting for you.

“Finally,” Felix calls out as soon as he spots you approaching. His blonde hair gleams in the sunlight, and he’s already wearing his signature shit-eating grin. “Took you long enough, slowpoke.”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the small smile that creeps onto your face. “Traffic,” you mutter, hefting your makeup case as you reach the steps.

Minho pushes off the railing, straightening up. His red hair is pushed back today, giving him an air of effortless cool that would probably be irritating if it weren’t for the slight curve of his lips that softens the look. Without a word, he takes the case from your hands like it weighs nothing.

“Thanks,”

“No problem,” Minho says, his voice smooth and calm. He gestures toward the front door with a nod. “We’ve cleared the hallway and stairs for you. Path to Felix’s room is officially fuckboy-free.”

You let out a laugh, your shoulders easing a little. “Good. I don’t think I could survive another Hyunjin ambush.”

Felix snorts, opening the door for you. “Yeah, well, he’s banned from being anywhere near the front of the house when you’re coming over. Lesson learned.”

“Damn right,” you mutter, stepping inside. “So, no flirting this time?”

Minho smirks. “Not unless you’re into compliments like ‘you look like you belong in a museum.’ That’s what got you last time, right?”

You groan. “Please don’t remind me.”

Felix waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, he’s not even awake yet. I think he stayed up all night painting or something. Total disaster.”

The three of you make your way up the stairs, Minho carrying your case with ease. “So,” he says, glancing back at you, “what are we doing today? Zombies? Scars? Some gory masterpiece to make my mother proud?”

You chuckle nervously. “Uh, SFX injuries, if that’s okay? I need to work on realistic wounds for my portfolio.”

“Wounds it is,” Minho says without missing a beat. He holds the case up slightly. “You brought all your murder tools, I assume?”

“Always,” you say, grinning despite yourself.

You don’t notice Jisung peeking out from the slightly cracked door of his room as you pass, his silver hair messy and his eyes wide with interest. He stays quiet, though, watching as the three of you disappear down the hall toward Felix’s room.

When you step inside, the familiar chaos of Felix’s room greets you. Posters are plastered across the walls in a chaotic patchwork of vibrant colours, and his gaming setup blinks with multicoloured LEDs in the corner. Felix flops into his gaming chair immediately, spinning in a lazy circle as Minho sets your case down gently on the bed.

“Sorry about… all of this,” you say, gesturing vaguely around the room. Your voice comes out softer, more hesitant. “Making the guys stay out of the way and everything.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Minho says, sitting down beside you on the bed. His tone is casual, but there’s a firmness to it that makes you feel a little less guilty. “The guys are a lot, even on a good day. This is nothing.”

Felix hums in agreement, spinning once more in his chair before planting his feet and leaning forward. “Seriously, you don’t have to apologize. They’re all idiots, but they know better than to mess with you. And if they don’t, Min and I will handle it.”

You glance down at your hands, fiddling with the anxiety rings on your fingers. Felix notices, of course, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he distracts you the only way he knows how by grinning at you like he’s just had the best idea in the world.

“So, murder makeup, huh?” he says. “Think you can make Minho look even hotter with a giant gash across his face?”

“Easily,” you say, a laugh bubbling out of you before you can stop it.

Minho raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was,” you admit, feeling a little less nervous now as you pull out your supplies. “Thanks for, you know being cool about this.”

“Always,” Minho says simply, his tone so genuine that it surprises you.

Felix wheels his gaming chair closer to the bed, the wheels creaking against the hardwood floor. He plants his elbows on the edge of the mattress and leans in, watching you as you sort through your SFX makeup kit.

The little compartments are crammed with pigments, brushes, sponges, and bottles of fake blood in varying shades of grotesque. Minho leans back on the bed next to you, his sharp gaze flicking between your hands and Felix, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Felix says, clapping his hands together like he’s rallying a team. His grin is mischievous, practically glowing with chaotic energy. “I wanna scare the shit out of Jisung and Chan, just like when you did that burns look”

Minho snorts, his laughter low and amused. “We should’ve filmed that for you. The way Jisung screamed when he saw you standing there? Priceless.”

Felix tips his head back and cackles. “He looked like he saw a ghost”

You shake your head, but you can’t help the small laugh that escapes. “You’re such a menace,” you mutter, pulling a headband out of your bag and holding it up. “Okay, sit still, Lix.”

Felix obeys and lets you push the headband over his head, sweeping his bleach-blonde hair back from his face. The ends stick out in every direction, and you grimace, running a finger through one crunchy strand.

“You need to put a hair mask in this disaster,” you say, holding up a particularly fried piece. “The bleach is murdering it.”

“I’ve been telling him that for weeks,” Minho says, leaning forward to inspect Felix’s hair critically. His tone is playful, but there’s an undercurrent of concern. “Baby boy, you’re gonna go bald by twenty-five at this rate.”

You gag dramatically at the nickname. “Ew. Minho, please. I’m trying to work here.”

Felix rolls his eyes, brushing both of you off. “Whatever, it’s fine. I’ll deal with it later.”

“Later isn’t good enough,” you say, wagging a brush at him like a weapon. “You’ll be doing comb-overs by the time you graduate if you don’t fix this now.”

Felix groans, but there’s no real bite to it. He stays still as you start applying a base layer of makeup to his face, smoothing out the colour to prep for the fake wounds. The rhythmic motion is soothing, and you quickly fall into a comfortable flow.

Minho grabs his phone and starts scrolling. A moment later, the opening notes of a Little Mix song fill the room. He turns the volume up, the beat bouncing off the walls. “Little Mix is undefeated,” Minho says, reclining again with a self-satisfied smile.

“You’re so right,” you reply, adding a streak of red to Felix’s cheekbone. “They’re perfect for this.”

Felix hums along to the song, swaying slightly as you blend out the faux injury. “I feel like a bad bitch already.”

“You are a bad bitch,” Minho chimes in. “You just happen to have the hair care routine of a gremlin.”

Before Felix can retort, the next song starts. The three of you are nodding along to the beat, when a loud voice from the hallway joins in, belting out the chorus with alarming enthusiasm.

Felix’s head snaps toward the door, his expression shifting to murderous in an instant. “Jisung! Go away!” he yells, his voice cutting through the music. “You know not to come near my room when my sister’s here!”

A loud, theatrical whine echoes back. “But it’s Little Mix! You can’t expect me to not sing along!”

You glance at Felix, stifling a laugh as he throws his hands up in frustration. “I swear to God,” he mutters, leaning back in his chair.

Before he can get up, another voice cuts in, Chan’s, calm and soothing. “Come on, babe. Let’s go play Little Mix in your room, yeah?”

There’s a beat of silence, then the unmistakable sound of Jisung perking up. “Really? You mean it?”

“Yes,” Chan replies, laughter evident in his voice. “Come on. Let’s go.”

The two of them disappear down the hall, but not before you hear the exaggerated sound of Jisung smooching Chan. It’s so loud and obnoxious that it sends Felix spiralling into a fit of cackles.

“They’re so fucking gross,” Felix mutters, wiping a tear from his eye as he settles back into position. “Alright, where were we?”

“Making you look like you got into a bar fight,” you reply, dipping your brush into the next colour. “Now hold still, or I’ll make it worse.”

“Can’t get much worse than it already is,” Minho teases, and Felix flips him off without missing a beat. “I’m gonna order us food. Any objections?”

Your hands pause mid-blend as you work on Felix’s makeup. “Oh, no, it’s fine,” you say quickly, the words spilling out in a rush. “I’m not really hungry.”

Felix scoffs so hard that he nearly dislodges the headband. “She’ll have the least spicy tteokbokki you can find,” he says, completely ignoring your protest. “She can’t handle spice, just like me. We’re not freaks like you, Min, who eat the spiciest shit they can find for fun. Order her food. She’s just being her little anxious self, panicking about you buying her food.”

“Felix!” you whine as you nudge him hard with your elbow. “Stop calling me out!”

Minho snorts, shaking his head as he pulls up the food delivery app on his phone. “He’s not wrong, though. You’re too polite for your own good. Just let me order you something. You can eat later if you’re not hungry right now.”

Felix grins, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Trust Min. He’s the responsible one here.”

“Debatable,” you mutter, focusing back on the gash you’re painting on Felix’s cheek.

“Rude,” Minho says with mock offence. “I’m only ordering in because I can’t be bothered to cook. Every time I do, it’s like vultures descend on the kitchen. I make one decent meal, and suddenly it’s a free-for-all.”

“That’s because you’re the best cook in this house,” Felix says matter-of-factly. “No one else even comes close. What did you expect?”

“Not to be treated like a five-star restaurant, that’s for sure,” Minho grumbles, scrolling through the menu.

You try again, your voice quieter this time. “Seriously, though, Minho, you don’t have to-”

“Nope,” Minho interrupts, holding up a hand without even looking at you. “Also, no paying me back. End of story.”

“But-”

“Shhhhh.” He cuts you off again, this time with an exaggerated shushing noise, his tone dripping with amusement. “If you keep arguing, we’re settling this on the football field. First one to score a touchdown wins.”

You give him a flat look. “I’d lose in ten seconds.”

“Exactly,” he says with a smug grin, clicking the order confirmation on his phone.

Felix lets out a loud laugh, nearly knocking the makeup sponge out of your hand. “God, he’s so full of himself. I love it.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re impossible, both of you.”

“And you love us for it,” Felix says, winking. “Now hurry up with my face so I can take selfies to scare the shit out of people.”

Minho smirks, leaning back against the headboard as the three of you settle into the easy rhythm of banter and laughter. The lighthearted atmosphere helps ease the tight knot of anxiety in your chest, and for a while, it’s just the three of you, surrounded by the comforting chaos of Felix’s room.

Jisung’s room is a certified disaster zone. Clothes strewn everywhere, half-empty snack bags crumpled on his desk, and a pile of notebooks teetering precariously on the edge of his chair. Despite the chaos, it’s unmistakably Jisung’s space, with posters of indie bands and anime characters covering every inch of the walls.

The air smells faintly of the caramel-scented candle Chan had gifted him a week ago, though it does little to mask the underlying hint of energy drinks.

Jisung sits cross-legged on the bed, bouncing slightly with nervous energy as Sweet Melody blasts from the Bluetooth speaker on the nightstand. He hums along to the chorus, his voice light and airy, but his fingers are picking relentlessly at a loose thread on the corner of the blanket. The thread gets longer with each tug, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care.

Chan, sprawled out on his back next to him, notices. He always notices. His dark eyes flick from Jisung’s hands to his face, taking in the slight furrow of his brow and the way his lips press into a thin line between lyrics.

“I can hear your brain running a million miles a minute,” Chan says finally, his voice soft but laced with curiosity. “What’s up?”

Jisung freezes mid-bounce, the loose thread now wrapped around his finger. He glances at Chan, his silver hair falling into his eyes, and sighs dramatically. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” Chan replies without hesitation, sitting up and leaning on one elbow. “You’ve been picking at that blanket for the last five minutes, and you only do that when something’s eating at you. So, spill.”

Jisung hesitates, chewing on his bottom lip. He tugs at the thread one more time before finally blurting out, “How the fuck are we supposed to get close to her if Felix is glued to her side every second she’s here?”

Chan blinks, caught off guard by the sudden outburst, but he doesn’t interrupt. Jisung continues, words spilling out in a rush. “Like, I get it, he’s her brother, her twin, her emotional support whatever-the-fuck, and I respect that, okay? I do. But how are we supposed to make any progress if he’s constantly playing guard dog? I mean, we want her to be the third in our relationship, but we can’t even fucking talk to her.”

There it is. The frustration, the longing, the anxiety. It all comes tumbling out in a messy, unfiltered stream. Jisung runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up in wild angles, and looks at Chan with wide, pleading eyes. “What do we do, Chan? How do we even start?”

Chan leans back against the headboard, crossing his arms over his chest as he considers his words. “If we spoke to her, like, really tried to make our intentions clear, she’d probably have a panic attack.”

Jisung winces, already halfway through forming a rebuttal, but Chan isn’t finished.

“And then you’d have a panic attack for causing her panic attack,” Chan adds, his tone matter-of-fact.

Jisung gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “Okay, so we’re just dropping truth nukes today? That was a personal fucking attack.”

“Yep.” Chan grins, entirely unbothered. “Because I know you, Ji. You overthink everything when it comes to her. You want to protect her and impress her and somehow confess your feelings all at once, but you freeze up every time she’s in the room.”

Jisung groans, flopping back onto the bed and throwing an arm over his face. “You’re not wrong, but do you have to say it out loud?”

“I do,” Chan says, nudging Jisung’s knee with his own. “Because you need to hear it. She’s not like us. She’s got walls up for a reason, and we can’t bulldoze our way through them just because we want to.”

“So what, then?” Jisung mumbles, his voice muffled by his arm. “We just sit here and pine while Felix keeps giving us death glares every time we so much as look at her?”

Chan chuckles, lying back down beside him. “No, dumbass. We take it slow. Be patient. Show her that we’re not just a couple of horny frat boys looking to make her a notch on our belt.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jisung sighs, letting his head roll to the side as Sweet Melody fades into another song. “Fine. We’ll play the long game. But if Felix cockblocks us one more time, I’m going to scream.”

Chan props himself up on his elbows, watching Jisung fidget with the loose thread again. After a moment, he sits up fully, reaching for his backpack that’s been haphazardly tossed onto the floor. “I did find this,” he says, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. He smooths it out against his thigh and holds it up for Jisung to see.

“What the fuck is that?” Jisung asks, tilting his head as he squints at the flyer.

“It’s from the cosmetology and SFX department,” Chan explains, his grin widening. “They’re looking for part-time models for the students. Hourly pay, and they feed you.”

Jisung grabs the flyer, scanning the text quickly. His eyes widen as the gears in his head start turning. “You absolute fucking genius, Bang Chan,” he says, smacking Chan’s arm with the paper. “This is why I love you. You’re getting the dick-sucking of your life tonight, and I’ll even do that position you like to fuck me in.”

Chan smirks, leaning back on his hands. “Why not now?”

Jisung rolls his eyes, though his grin is practically glowing. “Because I want to see a peek of her before she leaves. Duh.”

Chan snorts, shaking his head. “You’re such a simp.”

Jisung flops back onto the bed, clutching the flyer dramatically to his chest. “You’re not wrong. I peeked out of my door when she came upstairs with Felix and Minho earlier.”

Chan’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, yeah? What’d she look like?”

“She was wearing this cute cropped white sweater, you know, the off-the-shoulder kind? And those mom jeans that make her ass look, like, ugh,” Jisung says, waving his hand like he’s at a loss for words. “Her hair was clipped up all messily, and she had eyeliner so sharp it could cut a bitch.”

Chan groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Fuck. Wish I’d thought about peeking.”

“You missed out,” Jisung says with a sing-song lilt, flipping onto his stomach to look at Chan. “She looked like an angel. Or a menace. Or both.”

“Definitely both,” Chan agrees with a chuckle.

Jisung holds the flyer up again, studying it as if it holds all the answers to their problems. “This is fucking genius. You’re a genius. We can get close to her, right? Like, we sign up, become her models, and bam! We’re friends! She gets less anxious around us, trusts us, and then bam! She falls in love with us.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Chan says, leaning over to ruffle Jisung’s hair. “And if it doesn’t work, at least we’ll have some cool makeup looks.”

“It’ll work,” Jisung insists, his excitement bubbling over. He giggles, tossing the flyer onto the bed before pouncing on Chan, knocking him back against the pillows. “God, I fucking love you.”

Jisung peppers Chan’s face with kisses, laughing between each one as Chan tries and fails to push him off. Chan’s hands find their way to Jisung’s waist, gripping tightly before sliding down to his ass, squeezing just enough to make Jisung gasp.

“You’re obsessed,” Jisung teases, wiggling his hips in Chan’s hold.

“Can you blame me?” Chan retorts, his fingers tracing over Jisung’s waist like it’s his favourite thing in the world. “You’re fucking perfect.”

“Damn right, I am,” Jisung says, leaning down to kiss him properly this time. 

Jisung breaks the kiss with a grin, his forehead pressed against Chan’s. “My genius, sexy boyfriend,” he murmurs, voice dripping with affection as his hands rest on Chan’s chest. Before Chan can reply, the faint creak of a door opening filters through the chaos of Jisung’s room.

Both of them freeze.

“That’s Felix’s room,” Jisung whispers, wide-eyed. He scrambles off Chan in a flurry of movement, almost tripping over a discarded hoodie on the floor as he darts toward the door. Chan follows, his socked feet sliding a little on the hardwood.

They press themselves against the doorframe, carefully peeking through the narrow gap. Sure enough, Felix’s bedroom door is ajar, and you step into the hallway, your makeup case in hand. Felix and Minho trail behind you, chatting to you about something, but neither of them notices the two lurking shadows just down the hall.

Chan’s eyes immediately drop to your figure, taking in the way your jeans hug your curves. His lips part as he lets out a low whistle under his breath. “That ass,” he mutters, barely audible.

Jisung hums in agreement, his gaze just as fixated. “Fucking hell,” he says, practically purring. “Alright, seeing her ass in those jeans has me ready.”

Chan tears his eyes away from you just long enough to glance at Jisung. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jisung says, his grin wicked. “You ready to get your dick sucked?”

“Yes.” Chan’s reply is instant, decisive. Without taking his eyes off you for a moment longer than necessary, he reaches out and kicks the door shut with his foot, the sound reverberating through the room.

Jisung laughs, already grabbing at Chan’s shirt to pull him closer. “God, I fucking love you.”

“Show me,” Chan says, smirking as Jisung shoves him back toward the bed. Whatever comes next is their business, but one thing’s certain: both of them are more determined than ever to turn the object of their admiration into something far more significant.

The classroom is buzzing with energy, chatter bouncing off the walls as students set up their stations for the day. You sit in your usual spot near the back, partially shielded by a tall counter stacked with brushes, pigments, and latex prosthetics.

Your SFX kit is open in front of you, neatly organized but untouched as you twist the anxiety rings on your fingers, trying to drown out the noise. The clipped-up mess of your hair keeps falling in your face, but you don’t have the energy to fix it.

Your teacher strides in, clapping their hands for attention. “Alright, everyone! Models are here. Be respectful, follow the guidelines, and remember to thank them for their time. This is a great opportunity to work with real people instead of mannequins, so make the most of it.”

The door swings open, and a group of about ten models shuffles in, their faces a mix of curiosity and boredom. You glance up, expecting a crowd of strangers. Instead, your breath catches in your throat as two very familiar figures step through the door. Chan and Jisung.

Chan looks effortlessly cool, dressed in black cargo trousers and a white t-shirt under a black knit sweater. His silver chain glints under the fluorescent lights, matching the one around Jisung’s neck.

Jisung, for his part, looks like he just stepped out of a fashion editorial. His cropped grey long-sleeved top shows just a hint of his toned stomach, and his baggy blue jeans hang low enough to reveal his white boxers. His sneakers are pristine, white as snow, and somehow, even in this classroom setting, he looks like he’s having the time of his life.

When they spot you, their faces light up. Jisung waves enthusiastically, practically bouncing on his heels, while Chan offers a more subdued but equally warm wave. You hesitate for a second, the overwhelming urge to disappear into your shell creeping up, but you manage a shy wave back.

Their reaction is immediate. Jisung’s grin widens, and Chan nudges him, clearly amused.

The other students notice them almost instantly, the energy in the room shifting. A few of the girls near the front start whispering, throwing glances at Chan and Jisung. It’s no secret that the two of them are infamous for their openness at parties, and now that they’re in the same room, the attention is palpable.

The teacher finishes their brief introduction and waves the models toward the stations. Almost immediately, a cluster of girls swarms Chan and Jisung, practically vying for their attention. Compliments fly left and right.

“Chan, you’d be perfect for my project.”

“Jisung, I love your skin tone. It’d be amazing to work with.”

“Have you modeled before? You totally look like you have.”

Chan and Jisung, however, seem completely unfazed by the attention. They exchange a look, a silent conversation passing between them, and then, without hesitation, they make a beeline for your station at the back of the room.

“Hello!” Jisung chirps as they reach you, his voice as cheerful as ever. He drops into the chair across from you, resting his chin on his hand.

“Hi,” you reply softly, your fingers still fiddling with your rings.

Chan pulls out the chair next to Jisung and sits down smoothly, his gaze warm but focused. “What a coincidence,” he says, his voice lower and steadier than Jisung’s. “We just wanted some extra cash, and here we are.”

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Well, I’m glad it’s some familiar faces who picked me rather than total strangers,” you say, though the words come out in a rushed tumble. “I mean, I guess you two are strangers with recognizable faces, but, um, still better than total strangers.”

Jisung beams at you, clearly charmed by your rambling. Chan leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “Yeah? You’re not nervous about working with us?” His tone is teasing, but there’s genuine curiosity behind it.

“No, I-” You stop, realizing you’re about to contradict yourself, and shrug instead. “I’m just glad I won’t have to meet someone completely new. Familiar faces and all that.”

Jisung tilts his head, his silver hair catching the light. “So, how does this work, exactly? What do we do?”

You shrug again, feeling slightly more at ease under their curious but non-judgmental gazes. “It’s pretty simple. I just practice my SFX and different makeup looks on you. You sit still, let me do my thing, and you get paid by the university for your time.”

“That’s it?” Jisung asks, his expression lighting up. “We just get to chill while you turn us into zombies or whatever?”

Chan chuckles, his eyes never leaving your face. “Sounds like the easiest job ever.”

“It’s not as easy as it sounds,” you mumble, already reaching for your brushes. “I can be kind of a perfectionist.”

Jisung nudges Chan with his elbow, his grin widening. “I think we can handle that.”

“Alright,” you say, your voice steadying slightly as you flip through your kit. “I’m going to do bruises for you, Jisung. If that’s okay? It’s the quickest thing to start with, so you can get a feel for what it’s like and how still you’ll have to sit.”

“Okay!” Jisung chirps, his enthusiasm as boundless as ever. He leans forward slightly in his chair, watching you intently.

As you grab the foundation brush and a small compact, your fingers instinctively reach for your anxiety rings, twisting them back and forth in a soothing rhythm. You think you’re being subtle, but both Chan and Jisung notice. They exchange a quick look, just a flicker of understanding passing between them, before Chan leans back in his chair, breaking the tension.

“I’ll grab us some coffee from the table,” Chan says, standing up.

“Oh, don’t,” you reply quickly, looking up from your kit. “It’s gross. Seriously, it's undrinkable.”

Chan raises an eyebrow, amused. “That bad?”

“Worse,” you say, pulling a small coffee sachet from your tote bag and holding it out to him. “Use this. There’s a kettle in the corner.”

Jisung perks up immediately. “Ooh! I love that brand. Their hazelnut flavor is the shit.”

You smile shyly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before turning your attention back to your kit. “It’s the only coffee I can actually stand,” you admit, pulling out your bruise palette.

Chan takes the sachet with a small nod. “Got it. Fancy coffee it is,” he says, heading toward the kettle.

As he leaves, Jisung rests his elbows on the table, leaning in just enough to stay in your line of sight. “So, you wanna get into the makeup industry?” he asks, his tone casual but genuinely curious.

You nod, focusing on applying a thin base layer of foundation to his temple. “Yeah. That’s the plan. Mostly SFX, though.”

“That’s cool as fuck,” Jisung says, his lips twitching into a grin. “When I become a famous crime reporter, I’ll hire you to make me look good on camera.”

The corner of your mouth quirks up into a small smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“You better,” he teases, his tone light and playful. “And when Chan opens his music production company, you can do his makeup for the promo stuff.”

You glance at him, a faint smile still on your face as you swap the foundation brush for a sponge. “The two of you have nice skin. You don’t really need makeup.”

Jisung smirks, his voice dropping slightly. “We’re a sexy couple, huh?”

Your brush falters for half a second, and you laugh softly, not trusting yourself to respond. Instead, you focus on the bruising, using purples and yellows from your palette to create a realistic-looking contusion on his temple.

Jisung doesn’t push. He sits quietly for a moment, letting you work, but his gaze never leaves your face. He notices the way your shoulders relax as you settle into your craft, your hands moving with practised ease. You’re more comfortable here, surrounded by brushes and palettes, than you ever seemed in the unfamiliar chaos of the frat house.

“You’re really good at this,” he says after a while, his voice softer.

“Thanks,” you murmur, your eyes focused on blending the colours seamlessly into his skin.

The kettle clicks off in the corner, and Chan returns a moment later with three steaming cups of coffee. He sets one down next to you with a small smile before sitting back in his chair, watching you work.

Jisung flashes him a quick grin. “Told you she’s good.”

“Yeah,” Chan agrees, his voice warm. “She’s really good.”

You glance at Chan, tapping the end of your brush against your lip in thought. “How good are you at sitting still?”

Chan smirks, leaning back slightly in his chair. “Much better than him,” he says, jerking his chin toward Jisung.

Jisung nods enthusiastically. “Oh, absolutely. I have the attention span of a squirrel who’s had crack, PCP, and coffee. Sitting still is not in my vocabulary. That was super hard for me.”

You snort, shaking your head as you pull out a small palette and sponge. “I could do scratches or maybe a split lip?”

“Do both,” Chan says. “Whatever you want. We’re here to help you, get free food, and get paid.”

Jisung grins, leaning forward slightly. “Emphasis on the helping you.”

Their casual support makes you smile, a real, unguarded smile, and you turn your attention to Chan, holding up a few shades next to his face to match his skin tone. The colours need to be just right for the scratches to look realistic, and you’re already envisioning the placement.

While you’re focused, Jisung starts poking around in your kit, pulling out sponges and brushes like he’s never seen them before. “What’s this thing for?” he mutters, holding up a stippling sponge.

“Jisung,” Chan says sharply, without even looking at him. “Sit down. Drink your coffee. Be a good boy.”

Jisung snorts, rolling his eyes but obediently sliding back into his chair. “You sound like a dad,” he mutters, taking a sip of his coffee.

Chan doesn’t respond, but the amused glint in his eye says enough.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you position Chan’s face just right, tilting his chin slightly so you can work. Starting with the scratches, you dab the base colour along his cheekbone in thin, jagged lines, layering the colours to create depth. The focus required for the details blocks out the noise of the room, narrowing your world to just the colours, textures, and angles.

Chan stays perfectly still, his gaze never leaving your face. Every so often, his eyes flick to your fingers, watching the way they move with such precision. He notices the way you fiddle with your anxiety rings between steps, your thumb brushing over the grooves as if grounding yourself. It’s subtle, but he catches it every time.

Jisung leans closer, resting his chin in his hand as he watches too. He doesn’t say much, which is rare for him, but he’s captivated by how your concentration transforms you. You’re not the shy, anxious girl who fidgets in uncomfortable spaces here. You’re in your element, confident, steady, and focused. Your smiles, when they appear, are genuine, and they feel like small victories to him and Chan both.

“Does this hurt?” Jisung asks suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet.

You blink, looking up from the scratches you’re blending on Chan’s cheek. “What? No, of course not. It’s just makeup.”

“Yeah, but you’re so good it’s making me feel phantom pain,” he says dramatically, and you chuckle softly, shaking your head.

“Sit still and let her work,” Chan says, his tone teasing.

“I’m literally not moving!” Jisung retorts, throwing his hands up.

You roll your eyes but smile as you switch to the split lip. Using a small detailing brush, you draw the initial line across Chan’s lower lip, smudging the edges for realism. You add layers of reds and purples, blending them seamlessly into his skin until the injury looks raw and freshly split.

The room fades away entirely as you work, your focus narrowing to the details of Chan’s face. You don’t notice the way he and Jisung exchange glances, silently communicating as they take note of your little habits, the shifty glance you throw at your rings when the noise gets too loud, the way your shoulders tense and relax in rhythm with your breathing.

They’re careful not to draw attention to it, subtly keeping the energy around you calm and light without you even realizing it.

When the scratches and bruising are complete, you step back, studying your work critically. You add a faint smudge of purple and green around the edges of the scratches, giving them the illusion of swelling, before finally reaching for the mirror.

“Alright,” you say, holding the mirror up for Chan. “What do you think?”

Chan leans in to look, his eyes widening slightly at the realism. “Holy shit,” he murmurs, turning his head from side to side. “This looks incredible.”

“Seriously,” Jisung chimes in, craning his neck to see. “It looks like someone decked you. This is insane.”

You feel a flicker of pride at their reactions, your lips curving into a small smile. “Thanks,” you say quietly, fiddling with your rings again.

“Can’t believe we get paid for this,” Chan says with a grin. “Best gig ever.”

Jisung nods enthusiastically. “We should’ve signed up for this ages ago.”

You laugh softly, your nerves starting to melt away as the three of you fall into an easy rhythm of conversation and quiet admiration.

The room buzzes with its usual energy, students chatting and setting up their kits, but Chan and Jisung sit off to the side, waiting. Jisung taps his boots against the floor rhythmically, glancing toward the door every few seconds. He adjusts the cuffs of his cropped leather jacket, his black vest underneath snug against his torso.

Chan sits next to him, leaning back in his chair, one leg bouncing slightly. His matching leather jacket and vest combo, paired with the loose baggy jeans, gives him an effortless edge, but his eyes flick toward the door just as often as Jisung’s.

“She’s late,” Jisung mutters, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Maybe she got held up,” Chan offers, though his voice carries the same undercurrent of unease.

When the door finally opens, you step inside, your movements stiff and your hands trembling slightly as they clutch your tote bag and makeup kit. You’re dressed in a blue and white tartan mini skirt with a matching cropped blazer, your makeup immaculate despite the visible tension in your posture. The messy clip holding your hair back looks like it’s hanging on by sheer determination.

Jisung immediately notices the trembling. His eyes widen, and he nudges Chan, who follows his gaze. Recognition flashes across Chan’s face, he’s seen this before, too many times with Jisung.

Jisung jumps up first, his wide smile doing little to mask the concern in his eyes. “Hey!” he calls out, his voice bright and warm, though there’s a softness to it meant just for you. He strides over quickly, motioning for you to follow him. “Come on. Let’s go to the other room for a sec. It’s quieter there.”

Chan is already beside you, taking the tote bag and your makeup case from your trembling hands without a word. “Let’s go,” he says gently, his presence steady and grounding as he gestures toward the hallway.

You nod numbly, letting Jisung lead the way. His cropped leather jacket bounces slightly with each step, and you focus on the rhythm of his boots against the floor, using it to anchor yourself.

Once inside the empty classroom, Jisung pulls out a chair and motions for you to sit. Chan places your bags down carefully on the table, then leans against it, his arms crossed but his expression soft.

Jisung crouches in front of you, his voice light and cheerful despite the tension in the room. “You know what I need right now?” he asks, tilting his head.

You blink at him, your breathing still uneven. “What?”

“Embarrassing childhood stories about Felix,” he says, his grin widening. “Come on, you’ve gotta have loads of them. Spill.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your fingers gripping the edge of the chair. “I- I do, but...”

“But nothing,” Chan interrupts, his tone playful but firm. “Give us the dirt. I’m talking full-on Felix humiliation. We need it.”

Jisung pulls something out of his pocket and holds it out to you. A small fidget cube. “Here. This always helps me. Try it.”

Your hands shake as you take the cube, turning it over in your fingers. The clicking and spinning mechanisms give you something to focus on, and you start to feel a faint sense of control creeping back in.

“There has to be something,” Chan says, his tone encouraging as Jisung moves to sit next to you, running a hand gently up and down your back. “Don’t hold out on us.”

You take a deep breath, the fidget cube helping to steady you as you begin. “Okay, um, there was this one time when Felix was sixteen. He had a massive crush on this guy, like, total heart eyes every time he saw him.”

Jisung hums, clearly intrigued. “Go on.”

“So,” you continue, a small smile creeping onto your face, “Felix heard that this guy loved birds. Like, absolutely obsessed with them. So Felix, in his infinite wisdom, decided he was going to catch a dove and give it to him.”

Both Chan and Jisung burst into laughter, but they don’t interrupt. They let you continue, their attention fully on you.

“He spent hours in the park with a net he bought from a fishing store,” you say, your voice growing steadier as the memory takes over. “And when he finally caught one, he brought it home, named it Cupid, and tried to teach it tricks to impress the guy.”

Jisung is practically wheezing at this point. “No fucking way.”

“I swear to God,” you say, a genuine laugh escaping you. “He even bought birdseed that was, like, premium grade or whatever because he thought it would make the dove healthier and shinier.”

Chan shakes his head, his own laugh rumbling low in his chest. “And did it work? Did the guy fall for him?”

“Nope,” you say, giggling. “The guy was allergic to birds.”

Jisung collapses against the back of his chair, clutching his stomach as he laughs. “That’s fucking priceless. Felix trying to be Mr. Romantic and failing spectacularly. I love it.”

Chan grins, his eyes softening as he watches you laugh. “See? That’s exactly the kind of story we needed.”

You fiddle with the fidget cube again, but your breathing is steady now, the tension in your shoulders easing. Jisung nudges you lightly with his elbow, his grin still wide. “Feel a bit better?”

“Yeah,” you admit, glancing between them. “Thanks.”

Chan straightens up, offering you a hand. “Anytime. Now, let’s get back before someone claims your station.”

You take his hand, letting him pull you up, and for the first time that day, you feel like the world isn’t spinning quite so fast.

Chan and Jisung step inside the classroom, hand in hand as Jisung grins at whatever Chan whispers in his ear. Chan’s black cargos and fitted compression shirt make him look every bit the confident leader he is, his silver chain glinting under the fluorescent lights.

Jisung, in his black trousers and the striking red-and-black watercolour-style top, walks with a similar self-assurance, the chain around his neck catching the same light. They’re already the centre of attention without even trying, but their eyes immediately scan the room for one person. You.

You’re at your usual station, sitting on a chair, but something’s off. Your shoulders are hunched, practically touching your ears as you try to shrink into yourself. Two girls are standing in front of you, leaning in far too close, their voices carrying just enough for Chan and Jisung to catch snippets of what they’re saying.

“Come on,” one of them purrs. “You know them, right? Set us up, just for one night. That’s all we’re asking.”

“They’re into sharing,” the other adds, her tone smug. “Everyone knows it. It’s not like they’d say no.”

You’re gripping the edge of your chair tightly, your knuckles turning white as you avoid eye contact. The tension radiates off you, your lips pressed into a thin line. Your green cargo trousers and white sleeveless turtleneck are immaculate, your hair clipped up messily but beautifully, and your makeup flawless as always, but the way you’re folding into yourself tells them everything they need to know.

Chan’s jaw tightens, and Jisung’s grip on his hand briefly tightens before he lets go, stepping forward. “Oi,” Chan snaps, his voice sharp enough to cut through the chatter in the room. “Leave her alone.”

Both girls turn, startled but not deterred. Their faces light up when they see Chan and Jisung approaching, and they immediately shift gears, their tones turning flirtatious.

“Oh, hey, guys,” the first girl says, batting her eyelashes. “We were just talking about you.”

“Yeah,” the second girl chimes in, smiling coyly. “We’ve been dying to get to know you better.”

Jisung rolls his eyes so hard it’s a wonder they don’t get stuck. “Both of you, piss off,” he says flatly, his voice dripping with irritation.

The girls falter for a moment but recover quickly, leaning into their usual tactics. “Don’t be like that,” the first girl says, pouting. “We know you like adding a girl to your relationship. It’s your thing, right?”

The second girl glances toward you, who’s practically curled into yourself at this point. “You two seriously can’t be considering her,” she says, gesturing toward you with a sneer. “I mean, come on.”

Chan’s glare is immediate and lethal. His dark eyes narrow, and his jaw clenches as he takes a threatening step forward. “Watch your mouth,” he says, his voice low and dangerous.

Jisung scoffs, turning his full attention to the girls. “What? You think we’d go for you? Don’t make me fucking laugh.”

The girls’ confidence wavers under the combined weight of their disdain, but they don’t leave right away. Jisung doesn’t wait for them to figure it out. He turns back to you, his expression softening as he crouches slightly to meet your eyes. “Fuck this noise,” he says gently. “You wanna come with us to grab coffee?”

You glance up at him, your hands still trembling slightly, and nod, your relief visible even through your lingering anxiety.

“Good,” Jisung says, standing up. He grabs your tote bag without hesitation while Chan picks up your makeup kit.

As they turn to leave, both of them shoot the girls looks that could kill. “Stay the fuck away from her,” Chan warns, his voice quiet but ice-cold.

Jisung doesn’t bother saying anything else, but the sharp glare he throws over his shoulder speaks volumes. Together, they guide you out of the classroom, their presence on either side of you making you feel safer with every step. The noise and tension of the room fade behind you as the door swings shut.

Once you’re in the hallway, Jisung flashes you a small, reassuring smile. “Let’s go get something sweet”

Chan nods, his expression softening now that you’re away from the chaos. “You’re with us. Don’t worry about anything else.”

The campus café is quiet at this time of day, a soft hum of conversation blending with the low buzz of the espresso machines. Chan leads the way to a corner table in the back, where it’s more secluded. He sets your makeup case down on the floor beside the table as Jisung pulls out a chair for you before plopping into one himself.

“What do you want to drink?” Chan asks, his voice steady and calm as he takes the seat opposite you.

You shake your head quickly, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “I’m fine, really.”

Jisung raises an eyebrow, leaning forward on his elbows. “Nope! Anxiety will not let you dehydrate on my watch,” he declares, his tone light but firm. “How about this, you can pay for the coffee next time. Sound good?”

You hesitate, glancing between them, but their expressions are so genuine, so patient, that you finally nod. “Okay. An iced caramel mocha, please.”

“Good choice,” Jisung says with a grin, leaning back in his chair.

As Chan heads toward the counter to order, Jisung places your tote bag on the table, his eyes lighting up when he notices the corner of a sketchbook sticking out. “You have a sketchbook?” he asks, already tugging it free.

“Yeah,” you reply, feeling a little self-conscious but smiling faintly. “If cosmetology and SFX don’t work out, tattooing is the backup plan.”

Jisung’s face lights up like it’s Christmas morning. “Can I peek?” he asks, his voice practically buzzing with excitement.

You nod, and he immediately cracks it open, flipping through the pages with wide eyes. “Ooh, I want that one,” he says, pointing to a minimalist snake design winding around a crescent moon. “And that one.” He gestures to a geometric wolf. “Oh, absolutely that one.” His finger lands on an intricate floral skull.

You can’t help but laugh softly. “If you like them so much, pencil your name next to the ones you want.”

“Done,” Jisung says, digging into your tote bag for a pencil. Instead of a pencil, his hand brushes against a box of tattoo pens, and he pulls it out, eyes sparkling. “Oooh! Can I have one now?”

“Sure,” you say, sliding the box toward him. “Pick a colour.”

Jisung immediately grabs a black pen and places it in your hand instead. “Draw something cool on me.”

There’s a smile on your lips as you grab his hand. His fingers twitch slightly as you adjust his position, your own hand steady as you start outlining a skeletal hand on the back of his. The pen glides smoothly over his skin, and you fall into your rhythm, focusing on each careful line.

Jisung watches you intently, his eyes darting between your concentrated expression and the design appearing on his hand. “This is so fucking cool,” he murmurs, tilting his head to watch you work. “Seriously, how are you this good?”

You shrug, not looking up. “Practice.”

By the time Chan returns with the drinks, Jisung’s hand already resembles a realistic skeleton hand in progress. Chan places your iced caramel mocha in front of you before sitting down with his own coffee. His gaze falls on Jisung’s hand, and his eyebrows raise slightly. “What’s this?”

“She’s giving me the coolest skeleton hand tattoo,” Jisung says proudly, holding his hand up briefly before letting you continue. “It’s semi-permanent. How long will it last?” he asks, glancing at you.

“About two weeks,” you reply, still focused on adding shading to the bones. “If you’re careful.”

“Careful?” Jisung scoffs. “Have you met me?”

Chan chuckles, leaning back in his chair to watch you work. “Guess we’ll see how long it survives. It’s a good look for you, though.”

Jisung grins, wiggling his fingers slightly, earning a small scolding from you as you steady his hand again. “I feel like a badass already.”

“You already are,” Chan says with a smirk, taking a sip of his coffee.

You finish the final details on Jisung’s skeleton hand, stepping back to admire your work. The clean black lines trace over his skin perfectly, each bone detailed with just enough shading to make it look almost real. “There,” you say, setting the pen down for a moment. “Done.”

Jisung twists his hand to get a better look, his grin widening. “Holy shit, this is incredible. You’re a fucking magician.”

“You’re being dramatic,” you reply with a faint smile, wiping your hands on a napkin.

“No, seriously. It’s so good!” Jisung glances at you, his grin turning sly. “So, can I have another?”

You arch an eyebrow but grab the pen again, motioning for him to roll up his sleeve. “What do you want this time?”

He taps his chin, pretending to think. “How about a sword? With a snake wrapped around it. Make it badass.”

“Got it,” you say, leaning over to begin sketching on his forearm. The pen glides smoothly over his skin as you map out the shape of the blade, the hilt, and the curling snake.

As you work, Jisung leans back slightly, looking over at Chan with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hey, Chan. Baby. Sexy man.”

Chan gives him a flat look. “What.”

“How do you feel about Jisung’s bitch on your forehead with the tattoo pen?”

“No.”

Jisung pouts dramatically. “No hesitation? Not even a little consideration?”

“Not even a little,” Chan replies, sipping his coffee calmly.

You shake your head, biting back a smile as you continue detailing the snake coiling around the sword. The tip of the blade points toward Jisung’s wrist, and the snake’s head curves menacingly near the hilt, its fangs bared.

“Could we count this as a date?” Jisung asks suddenly, his voice casual but his grin anything but.

Your hand falters slightly, and you cough, your head snapping up to look at him. Before you can respond, Chan kicks him under the table, the dull thud making Jisung wince.

“Kidding! Kidding!” Jisung says quickly, throwing up his free hand in surrender. “Totally joking.”

You narrow your eyes slightly but don’t say anything, your focus snapping back to his arm as you continue detailing the snake’s scales with delicate precision.

While your attention is on the drawing, Chan leans forward slightly, his eyes narrowing at Jisung and he mouths, What are you doing?

Jisung shrugs dramatically, mouthing back, What?! It was worth a shot!

Chan rolls his eyes and mouths, Idiot.

Jisung grins, leaning closer to mouth back, At least now she might realise we’re interested.

Chan glares, his lips pressing into a tight line, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he leans back in his chair, his gaze softening as he watches you work.

You finish detailing the snake’s body, adding a hint of depth to its scales, before leaning back to examine your work. “Done,” you say. “What do you think?”

Jisung lifts his arm, turning it this way and that to admire the sword-and-snake design. His grin stretches from ear to ear. “It’s fucking perfect. You’re a genius.”

Chan nods in agreement, his voice warm. “It looks incredible.”

You glance between them, your cheeks warming slightly at their praise. “Thanks.”

As Jisung continues marvelling at his arm, you finally allow yourself a small smile, feeling a strange but welcome sense of ease in their company.

The Alpha Phi frat house is quieter than usual, a rare lull in the usual chaos. You make your way up the stairs, your sneakers squeaking faintly against the worn wood. Felix is at a culinary practical class, which means you have a golden window of opportunity to talk to Minho without your overprotective twin hovering nearby.

Reaching Minho’s room, you hesitate for a second before knocking twice and pushing the door open. The familiar scent of his room, clean laundry mixed with a faint hint of cologne, greets you as you step inside.

“Hey there, anxiety bundle,” Minho greets from his bed, where he’s lying with his phone in hand, scrolling lazily. He glances up, a small smirk playing on his lips.

You can’t help but grin, hopping onto the bed beside him. “Hi, Min.”

He sets his phone down, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you more closely. “So, what’s up? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

You take a deep breath, fiddling with the hem of your cropped turtleneck. “I wanted to talk to you about Chan and Jisung.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening slightly. “Chan and Jisung, huh? Have you ever even spoken to them?”

You bite your lip, nodding. “Yeah, they’re, uh, my models for my cosmetology and SFX extra credit stuff.”

“Interesting,” Minho says, his tone light but curious. He leans back against his pillows, giving you his full attention. “Go on.”

“They’re actually super cool to hang out with,” you admit, your voice softening as you pick at an invisible thread on the blanket. “But, we went to a café a couple of days ago, and Jisung asked if it was a date.”

Minho’s other eyebrow joins the first, his expression shifting to something more knowing. “You can’t tell they’re both into you?”

You blink at him, caught completely off guard. “Huh?”

Minho rolls his eyes, sitting up fully. “Come on, everyone in the frat but Lix knows. They’re not subtle. They like you and want you as a third in their relationship. A little polyamorous trio.”

You freeze, the words sinking in like a stone dropping into a still pond. “No. No way. No, I can’t- Nope. Nuh-uh. I am not relationship material. Nope. No way.”

Minho stares at you for a moment before letting out a low chuckle. “Okay, no breakdowns here. Deep breaths. You’re spiralling.”

“I’m not spiralling,” you protest weakly, even as your chest tightens.

“Right.” Minho reaches for the edge of his blanket, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m going to blanket burrito you and then cuddle you until your stresses flow out of you. Arms free, of course, so you don’t feel too restricted.”

Before you can argue, he’s already wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, tucking it securely but leaving your arms free just as he promised. “There we go,” he says, satisfied with his work. “Comfy?”

You hum softly, leaning into his side as he pulls you closer. “Yeah. Surprisingly.”

Minho shifts slightly, adjusting the blanket around you as he tucks you closer into his side. His warmth seeps into you, and for the first time today, the tension in your shoulders starts to ease.

“So,” Minho begins, his tone light but teasing, “what do you wanna talk about? We cannot under any circumstances talk about black-haired football captains and silver-haired journalism students who wanna fuck you in what could possibly be the hottest threesome and three-way relationship to walk the earth. Anything but that horror, which I am wildly jealous of but we can’t discuss because you’re in an anxiety burrito.”

“Shut up!” you exclaim, smacking his arm lightly, though you can’t help the small laugh that escapes.

Minho gasps dramatically. “Excuse me. Everything I say is a blessing. Don’t silence the gospel.”

You roll your eyes, relaxing further against him. “Fine. Let’s talk about you and Lix. What’s going on there?”

Minho groans, tilting his head back against the headboard. “We’re, like, together. Without the labels.”

“Loser,” you mutter, smirking as you nudge his side.

His head snaps back down, and he glares at you playfully. “Listen here, brat. It’s your brother’s fault, alright? One minute he’s all over me, sucking my dick like it’s the cure to cancer, and the next, he’s chatting up and fucking every Theta Tau asshole who so much as glances in his direction.”

You grimace but can’t stop yourself from laughing. “Oh my God, Minho.”

“It’s true!” Minho insists, throwing up his hands. “Do you know how fucking confusing that is?”

You sit up slightly, resting your chin on your hand as you consider him. “Have you ever considered that Felix wants you to make the move?”

Minho pauses, his brow furrowing. “Huh. No. No, I did not. That actually makes sense.”

“You’re welcome,” you say with a smug smile. “I give sound relationship advice. Can’t follow it myself, but hey, it’s called anxiety.”

Minho snorts, ruffling your hair affectionately. “Fucking nerd. Alright, Yoda, explain this wisdom to me.”

“It’s simple,” you say, leaning back against him. “Felix probably doesn’t want to make things official because he’s scared of messing it up. He’s waiting for you to say something.”

Minho hums thoughtfully, his arm tightening slightly around your shoulders. “Okay. Fair point. I’ll think about it.”

There’s a beat of silence before Minho glances down at you, his smirk creeping back onto his face. “Now, back to you.”

“Nope,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “We’re done talking about me.”

“Look,” Minho begins, ignoring you completely. “You’re hot. Chan’s hot. Jisung’s hot. And those two have got it bad for you, sweetcheeks. I’m talking down horrendously bad. Me mooning over your brother? Nothing on those two.”

You groan, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. “Minho, stop.”

“Not a chance,” he says, his voice growing more serious. “You think you’re not relationship material, but I’ve seen the way they look at you. They’d bend over backwards to make you happy. You deserve that. You really do.”

You don’t respond, your fingers absently twisting the blanket’s edge. Minho doesn’t push further, letting his words sink in as he pulls you closer to his side, his presence steady and comforting.

“Anyway,” Minho says after a moment, his teasing tone returning, “I’m pretty sure Felix and I are the blueprint for dysfunctional relationships, so if I can make it work, you’ve got no excuse.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” he replies, grinning. For now, the weight of his words lingers, but it feels less like a burden and more like a possibility you can slowly start to consider.

The classroom hums with the usual pre-class energy. Students chatting, tools clinking against palettes, and brushes being sorted. Chan and Jisung are already seated at your station when you walk in, your steps hesitant. You’re dressed in green cargo trousers, black Converse, and a black cropped turtleneck, your hair messily clipped up as always. Your makeup is, as usual, flawless, the sharpness of your eyeliner contrasting starkly with the apprehension in your eyes.

But today, something’s off.

Chan notices it first. You don’t greet them like usual, instead setting your tote bag and kit on the table with trembling hands. Jisung picks up on it seconds later when you don’t return his grin or meet his gaze. You sit down silently, immediately busying yourself with unpacking your materials, your movements stiff and hurried.

“Hey,” Jisung says softly, leaning forward slightly. “You good?”

You don’t answer, pretending to focus on your brushes as if they’re suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. Your fingers fumble as you arrange them, the clinking sound drawing Chan’s attention. He exchanges a quick glance with Jisung, his brow furrowing.

“Y/N,” Chan tries, his tone low and gentle. “What’s going on?”

Still, you don’t respond. Instead, you grab your palette and turn to Jisung, gesturing for his arm. “I’m starting with the scarring,” you mumble, your voice so soft they almost miss it.

Jisung hesitates but holds out his arm, watching as you grab a brush and start applying a base layer. Your focus is razor-sharp, but something about the way your hands move feels mechanical, like you’re running on autopilot. You won’t look at him, your gaze glued to your work.

Jisung glances at Chan again, his worry evident. “Okay,” he says cautiously, trying to keep the mood light. “Guess we’re skipping the chit-chat today.”

No reaction.

As you work on creating realistic scarring up his forearm, Jisung tries again. “You know, I was thinking, maybe I should start a petition for you to do our makeup at frat parties. You’d probably get us a shit ton of attention.”

Still nothing. You don’t even crack a smile, your brush moving methodically as you blend shades of red and brown into his skin. The silence stretches, heavy and uncomfortable.

Chan leans back in his chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the table as he studies you. He doesn’t say anything, but his dark eyes flicker with concern, his lips pressed into a thin line.

When you finish Jisung’s arm, you finally glance up, just to grab another tool, before quickly averting your gaze again. “Switching to facial injuries,” you mumble, turning toward Chan without waiting for a response.

Chan shifts in his chair slightly, his posture relaxing as he nods. “Go ahead.”

You step closer, your movements still stiff as you start creating a gash on his cheekbone. Your hands remain steady, but your avoidance is glaringly obvious. You don’t meet his eyes, even when you have to angle his face toward the light. Instead, you keep your focus strictly on your work, avoiding any interaction.

Jisung leans his chin on his hand, watching you carefully. “You know, we’re here, right?” he says softly, his usual playful tone replaced with genuine concern.

Your hand falters slightly, but you quickly recover, your expression unreadable. “I know,” you mutter, still not looking at either of them.

Chan tilts his head as you add depth to the injury, his voice low and steady. “You don’t have to say what’s bothering you if you’re not ready. But you can. We’re not going anywhere.”

Your hands are trembling so violently now that you can barely hold the brush. The classroom feels too loud, too bright, too crowded, like the walls are closing in around you. The edges of your vision blur as you inhale sharply, your breaths coming too fast and too shallow.

“I- Excuse me,” you manage to choke out, your voice trembling as much as your hands.

Without waiting for a response, you push back from the table, nearly knocking over your chair in your haste to leave. You don’t even think to grab your tote bag or kit as you rush out the door, the classroom’s noise fading into an overwhelming silence.

Chan and Jisung are on their feet immediately, exchanging a single, knowing look. They don’t need to speak to understand what’s happening. Jisung recognizes the signs, he’s been there too many times himself, and Chan has seen this far too often when helping Jisung through his panic attacks.

“We’re going after her,” Jisung says, already heading for the door.

Chan nods as he follows. “Of course.”

They move quickly through the hallway, scanning for any sign of you. It doesn’t take long for Jisung to notice the slightly ajar door to the empty classroom they’d taken you to before. He pushes it open gently, the hinges creaking faintly, and the sight inside makes both of them freeze.

You’re crouched down near the far wall, your head in your hands as you tug on your hair with trembling fingers. Your whole body is trembling, and your breaths come in short, ragged gasps that hitch and catch painfully in your throat. It’s clear you’re spiralling fast.

Jisung and Chan exchange another glance, unspoken understanding passing between them. Chan steps forward first, closing the door quietly behind them while Jisung pulls the blinds down to block out the outside world. They’re careful, their movements measured and deliberate, as if any sudden motion might make things worse.

Jisung crouches down in front of you, his voice soft but steady. “Hey, what do you need? I know it’s hard to answer right now, but I’ve been here before. For me, a hug helps, a tight one. It compresses my nervous system and calms me down. You’ll fight it at first, but it’s just me and Chan. You’re safe with us, okay?”

You nod faintly, your fingers twitching as you try to loosen your grip on your hair. Your breaths are still shallow, but you’re trying, and Jisung can see it in the way your shoulders rise and fall unevenly.

“Good,” Jisung says gently, shifting to sit behind you. He carefully takes your hands, pulling them away from your hair and holding them in his own for a moment before guiding your body to rest against his. “I’m gonna hug you now, alright? Just let me help.”

He wraps his arms tightly around your chest, holding you firmly but not uncomfortably, his chin resting lightly against the top of your head. “Just me,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”

Chan crouches in front of you, his eyes soft with concern. “My turn,” he says quietly, leaning in to wrap his arms around both you and Jisung, enveloping you in a warm, grounding embrace. You’re sandwiched between them, their bodies a protective barrier against the storm raging inside you.

“Just breathe,” Chan murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “We’re here. You’re safe.”

Jisung presses his cheek against the back of your head, his voice equally calm. “Deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Slow and steady.”

It’s hard. Your chest feels tight, and the panic claws at you, but their warmth and steady presence start to chip away at the edges of the fear. Jisung’s hold is grounding, his arms firm and secure, while Chan’s presence in front of you feels like a shield against the world.

“You’re doing so good,” Jisung says softly, his fingers lightly brushing against your forearms. “Just keep going. We’ve got you.”

Chan’s hands rub gentle circles on your back, his movements synchronized with Jisung’s reassurances. “That’s it. Keep going. One breath at a time.”

Slowly, the tension in your body begins to ease. Your breaths become a little less ragged, a little more controlled. The trembling subsides bit by bit, though your body still feels exhausted from the panic.

“You’re okay,” Jisung whispers, his voice soft as he rests his forehead against the back of your head. “You’re safe. We’ve got you.”

Chan pulls back slightly to meet your eyes, his hands still resting gently on your shoulders. “Better?” he asks, his voice warm and patient.

You nod weakly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. Thank you.”

Jisung presses a light, reassuring kiss to the top of your head before helping you sit up straighter. “No need to thank us. We’re here for you. Always.”

“Want to talk about why you’re an anxious bundle of nerves today?” Chan asks gently, his eyes locked on yours. There’s no judgment in his tone, just patience and concern.

You hesitate for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip, but the warmth of their presence gives you enough courage to speak. Once you start, though, the words spill out in a frantic, barely coherent rush.

“It’s—it’s Minho,” you stammer, your voice shaky and fast. “He said you two like me, and not just like me, like like me like me, and then he said something about polyamory and a three-way relationship, and I-look, I can’t do that. I don’t want to come between you two, you’re perfect together, and I don’t even know how to be in a regular relationship, let alone something like that! I mean, I’m definitely not relationship material. I overthink everything-”

“Wait, wait, slow down,” Chan says, his lips twitching in an effort to suppress a smile as he tries to keep up with your rapid-fire rambling.

Jisung giggles, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Silly girl,” he says, his tone playful and affectionate. “You wouldn’t be coming between us. There’d be three of us in the relationship. That’s kind of the point.”

You pause, your brain short-circuiting at the simplicity of his words. “I… what?”

Jisung squeezes you tighter, his grin widening. “Three of us. Not you versus me or Chan. All of us together. Team effort.”

“Exactly,” Chan chimes in, his voice steady and calm. He leans in slightly, his dark eyes warm as they meet yours. “Tell you what. Jisung and I will take you on one date. Just one. No pressure, no expectations. If you decide polyamory isn’t for you, we’ll stay just friends. No hard feelings.”

You blink at them, your heart racing as you try to process everything. “One date?” you echo, your voice almost disbelieving.

“One date,” Chan confirms, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Just to see how it feels. No strings attached.”

Jisung nods eagerly. “And if it’s not your thing, that’s fine. We still get to hang out with you and be your friends, which is already pretty fucking great.”

You look between them, the sincerity in their expressions making your chest tighten in a way that’s equal parts terrifying and comforting. Finally, you nod, the tension in your shoulders easing just slightly. “Okay. One date.”

Jisung cheers softly, his arms tightening around you. “Yes! I’m calling this a win.”

Chan chuckles, resting a hand on Jisung’s back as he looks at you. “Thank you for trusting us.”

As you sit there, sandwiched between them, the panic that had consumed you earlier feels like it’s beginning to fade, replaced by a tentative sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this could work.

The low rumble of a sleek black convertible echoes through the quiet street as Chan pulls up outside your apartment building, the hood already down. The car gleams under the dim glow of the streetlights, a perfect reflection of its owner’s effortless confidence. Jisung sits in the backseat, his cropped leather blazer catching the light as he leans against the side of the car, a casual grin on his face.

Chan, in black trousers and boots with a white half-buttoned shirt over a black turtleneck, rests one arm on the steering wheel as he glances up at your building. He checks the time briefly before looking at Jisung. “You think Minho’s keeping Felix distracted long enough?”

Jisung snickers, adjusting his silver chain. “Please. If anyone can manage Felix, it’s Minho. The man dragged him to a love hotel. They’re probably too busy fucking to even think about anything else right now.”

The sound of the building’s front door opening pulls both their attention, and their conversation stops. You step outside, your beige flares swishing slightly with each step, white sneakers bright against the pavement. Your white bandeau crop top hugs your figure, and your half-up, half-down hair style gives you a polished but relaxed look, the little bun at the back bouncing slightly as you walk.

Jisung’s grin widens as he scrambles out of the backseat and around to the sidewalk, opening the door for you with a dramatic bow. “Your chariot awaits, milady.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” you reply with a teasing smile, sliding into the backseat next to him. Your movements are smooth, but there’s a flicker of nervous energy in your hands as you buckle in.

Chan glances over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You like fast driving?”

You nod, settling into your seat. “Yeah, why not?”

Chan doesn’t need any more encouragement. He slams his foot on the gas, and the car roars to life, speeding down the street. The wind whips through your hair, and your laughter spills out, unrestrained and genuine. You throw your hands up, tipping your head back as the city lights blur into streaks of colour.

Jisung wraps an arm around your shoulders, his touch light enough to give you space to pull away if you want. Instead, you lean into him, your laughter bubbling over as the wind rushes past. Chan watches the two of you through the rearview mirror, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he navigates the empty streets with ease.

“Disclaimer,” you say between giggles, “I had an edible brownie to help my anxiety, so I’m kind of stoned right now.”

Jisung’s eyes widen with delight. “Oh my God. When I thought you couldn’t get any hotter.” He nudges Chan with his free hand. “She’s one of us, Chan! A stoner!”

Chan snorts, his eyes flicking to the mirror again. “I’m sober, don’t worry. I wouldn’t drive stoned.”

“Obviously,” Jisung says, grinning. “I had a joint earlier, though, so we’re vibing, Y/N. You and me? Stoner solidarity.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Good to know I’m in good company.”

Chan hums thoughtfully. “I will steal one of those brownies later, though, if you’re offering.”

“Sure,” you say easily, your gaze softening. “I’ve seen your place already. You can come over and meet my dog. He’s a golden retriever. His name’s Simba.”

“Dream woman,” Chan says, his voice warm and genuine. “Dog lover, brownie maker, and she likes fast cars. What’s not to love?”

You laugh again, feeling the edges of your nerves melt away in the company of their easy banter. The car speeds forward into the night, the three of you riding the high of the moment, figuratively and, in your case, literally. It feels like freedom, like something new and exciting, and for once, you’re more eager than anxious about what comes next.

The sleek black convertible pulls up to the brightly lit bowling alley, its neon sign casting a kaleidoscope of colours on the pavement. Jisung hops out first, his black trousers swishing as he moves, and he offers you a hand with a playful grin, and you take it, sliding out of the car.

Before you can step away, Jisung wraps an arm around your waist, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of your beige flares. “You ready for this?” he asks, his tone warm and teasing.

You glance at him, your nerves bubbling up again, but before you can respond, you feel Chan’s gaze on you. His dark eyes are soft but questioning, waiting for permission. You nod shyly, and he steps closer, draping his arm over your shoulders with a casual ease that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Now we’re ready,” Chan says with a small smirk, steering you toward the entrance as Jisung keeps his arm snugly around your waist.

The trio walks through the glass doors, greeted by the bustling atmosphere of the bowling alley. The place smells like popcorn and pizza, and the sound of bowling balls crashing into pins echoes around you. Chan leads the way to the counter, where a guy in a red-and-white uniform greets him with a friendly smile.

“Got a booking under Bang,” Chan says smoothly, his tone low and confident.

The employee nods, checking the screen and handing him a set of shoes. Meanwhile, Jisung leans closer to you, his voice conspiratorial. “Must be nice, huh?”

You giggle, glancing at Chan as he talks to the guy like it’s second nature. “I’d be half passed out by this point talking to another human like that.”

Jisung snorts, his laugh low and infectious. “Right? Meanwhile, Mr. Smooth over here acts like he owns the place.”

Chan turns back to you both, raising an eyebrow. “You two gossiping about me?”

“Always,” Jisung replies without missing a beat, his grin cheeky as Chan rolls his eyes and leads you down a side hallway.

At the end of the hallway is a door marked Private Lane. Chan opens it with a flourish, stepping aside to let you and Jisung walk in first. The private lane is sleek and modern, with plush seating and mood lighting that makes it feel more like a lounge than a bowling alley.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Mr. Smooth,” Jisung says, plopping onto the couch with a dramatic sigh.

Chan ignores him, instead turning his attention to you. “So, have you ever bowled before?”

You hesitate for a split second before shaking your head. “No,” you say, your voice soft.

Chan quirks an eyebrow, and Jisung’s grin widens. “Never?” Chan asks, his tone somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

“Nope,” you lie smoothly, hoping they won’t catch on.

“Well then,” Chan says, grabbing a bowling ball from the rack and holding it out to you, “we’ll have to teach you.”

“Absolutely,” Jisung chimes in, standing up and grabbing another ball. He rests it on his hip as he walks over to you. “This is gonna be fun.”

You smile, biting back your nerves as they both step closer, their expressions eager and intent. You might not be a complete novice at bowling, but right now, the idea of their hands guiding yours and their attention entirely on you feels worth a little white lie.

Chan rolls up his sleeves and grabs a bowling ball from the rack, his silver chain catching the light as he steps to the lane. “Alright, Y/N,” he says, holding the ball out to you. “Let’s start simple. Just grip it here and here.”

You take the ball, the weight of it heavier than you expected, and Chan steps behind you, close but not overwhelming. His hands rest lightly on your elbows as he adjusts your stance. “Feet shoulder-width apart. Bend your knees a little.”

Jisung lounges on the nearby couch, a smug grin on his face. “Don’t drop it on your foot.”

“Helpful,” Chan mutters, shooting him a look before turning back to you. “Ignore him. Now, swing it back gently, then forward. Let it roll off your fingers when it feels right.”

His voice is low and patient, and you nod, following his instructions. With Chan’s hands steadying your arms, you swing the ball forward. It rolls down the lane with a satisfying thud, wobbling slightly before knocking over a few pins.

“Not bad,” Chan says, his voice warm with approval. “Let’s try that again.”

The game continues, and for the first few rounds, either Chan or Jisung is always there, standing behind you, guiding your movements. Jisung’s approach is less methodical than Chan’s, he’s more playful, cracking jokes and deliberately leaning close enough to make you laugh as he adjusts your grip.

“Alright, superstar,” Jisung says during your next turn, resting his chin on your shoulder for a moment as he lines up the shot with you. “This time, aim for the left side. Trust me.”

You roll your eyes but follow his advice, and the ball takes out a solid chunk of pins. Jisung cheers loudly, throwing his hands up like you’ve just won a championship. “See? I’m a genius!”

Chan laughs from his spot on the couch, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “You’re ridiculous.”

The real chaos begins each time it’s Jisung’s turn. Instead of bowling normally, he walks up to the lane, turns his back to the pins, and bends over, rolling the ball between his legs. It glides perfectly down the centre of the lane, knocking down every pin in a clean strike.

“Fuck yeah!” Jisung yells, spinning around with his arms raised in victory. “Did you see that?”

“That shouldn’t even count,” Chan calls out, shaking his head in disbelief. “You didn’t even look!”

Jisung shrugs dramatically, grabbing another ball. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you.”

His next turn, he lies flat on his stomach at the start of the lane, pushing the ball forward with both hands. Once again, it rolls perfectly down the lane and crashes into the pins, scattering them everywhere.

“This is bullshit,” Chan mutters, standing up and grabbing a ball. “There’s no way you’re this lucky.”

“It’s not luck!” Jisung insists, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s raw talent.”

You can’t stop laughing, your sides aching as Jisung continues his streak of absurd bowling techniques. He tries spinning the ball while crouched like a frog, rolling it while hopping backwards, and even attempting to launch it from his lap while sitting. Somehow, every ridiculous method he tries results in a strike.

“You’re unbelievable,” you say, shaking your head as you watch him collapse onto the couch, arms raised in mock exhaustion.

“Unbelievably good,” Jisung corrects, winking at you.

“Annoying is more like it,” Chan quips, his smirk softening the words.

The second game kicks off, and you decide it’s time to step up. Chan and Jisung exchange a glance as you grab a ball, their eyebrows raised in mild surprise.

“You got this,” Chan says, leaning casually against the scoring console.

Jisung smirks from where he’s sprawled on the couch, his silver rings glinting as he gestures toward the lane. “Show us what you’ve learned, superstar.”

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. With confidence, you line up your shot, swing the ball back, and release it. It glides perfectly down the lane, straight into the pins, scattering them in a deafening crash. A clean strike.

The room falls silent for a split second before Jisung shoots up from the couch, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “We’ve been fucking hustled!”

You turn to him, feigning innocence as you shrug. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Jisung’s jaw drops dramatically. “Oh, you’re good. Real good. You just wanted us to feel you up, didn’t you?”

You duck your head, biting your lip to hide the shy smile that betrays you and Chan laughs as he steps forward, ruffling Jisung’s hair as he passes. “Oh, she did,” he says, his voice warm and teasing. “But don’t tease her too much, Ji. Look, you’ve made her all shy.”

Jisung grins, unbothered, and strides up behind you. Before you can step away, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. “Be honest,” he murmurs near your ear, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “You’ve bowled before, haven’t you?”

You nod once, still too shy to speak, and his nose brushes lightly against the side of your neck as he chuckles. “Little liar,” he whispers, his tone playful and affectionate.

Chan takes his turn at the lane, his throw smooth and precise, though he leaves two pins standing. He shakes his head as he turns back toward you, grinning as Jisung presses a kiss to the top of your head before letting you go.

While Chan preps for his spare, Jisung leans over to the control pad on the table and presses a few buttons. “You drink?” he asks, glancing at you.

You tilt your head curiously. “They have cocktails?”

Jisung nods, scrolling through the menu on the screen. “Yep. What’s your poison?”

You hum thoughtfully, tapping your lip as you consider. “Hmm. Sex on the Beach.”

Jisung freezes for half a second before turning to you with a grin so wicked it makes your heart skip. “We could have sex on the bowling lane.”

Your jaw drops as you stare at him in shock, your eyes wide. “Jisung!”

He bursts out laughing, his arms wrapping around you again as he pulls you into a tight hug. “I’m kidding! You’re so easy to mess with, it’s adorable.”

You huff, though you can’t fight the laugh bubbling up as you swat his arm. “You’re impossible.”

“And you like it,” he quips, his grin softening as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

Chan returns to the table, his spare successfully picked up, and raises an eyebrow at the two of you. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly, shooting Jisung a look as he chuckles under his breath.

“Sure,” Chan says, his eyes narrowing slightly but the smile on his lips giving him away. “Whatever you say.”

Jisung, still grinning, reaches for the pad to confirm the drink order, adding a mock toast under his breath. “To bowling hustlers and adorable liars.”

The sleek convertible pulls up in front of your apartment building, its engine purring softly before Chan cuts it off. The night air is cool, brushing against your skin as you step out of the car andJisung hops out after you, his cropped leather blazer catching the streetlight as he stretches.

“This is the part where we find out if you’re a hoarder or if you’ve got some hidden skeletons in your closet,” he teases, falling into step beside you.

Chan chuckles, locking the car as he joins you both. “Don’t scare her off, Ji.”

You lead them up the stairs, your sneakers tapping lightly against the concrete as the three of you climb to your floor. At your door, you unlock it with a faint click and push it open, flipping on the lights. The warm, lived-in space comes into view, shelves lined with books and figurines, Attack on Titan posters framing one wall, and a collection of Harry Potter merch spread across various surfaces.

Jisung steps in first, his eyes immediately scanning the room. His mouth falls open slightly as he takes in the decor. “Anime and Harry Potter?” he says, his voice filled with awe. He turns to you with a playful grin. “You’ve officially made me fall in love.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head as you kick off your shoes. “It’s not that impressive.”

“It’s fucking heaven,” Jisung declares, his eyes darting from the Levi Ackerman figurine on your shelf to the Hufflepuff throw blanket draped over your couch.

Chan is about to respond when the soft patter of paws echoes through the apartment. Simba, your golden retriever, pads out from the hallway, his tail wagging lazily as he stops in front of Chan, sniffing curiously.

“Oh my God,” Chan breathes, crouching down immediately to pet the dog. His hand brushes over Simba’s soft fur, his face lighting up with pure joy. “He's adorable"

You watch Chan coo at Simba, scratching behind his ears. The dog leans into his touch, clearly pleased.

Jisung flops onto your couch, letting out a dramatic sigh and you sit next to him. “No, seriously. This apartment is heaven. Anime, Harry Potter, and now a golden retriever?” He looks at you, his grin softening into something more genuine. “You’re perfect.”

Before you can respond, Jisung leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your lips. His touch is fleeting, like he’s testing the waters, and his eyes widen immediately as he pulls back. “Uh, shit, sorry, I-”

You cut him off by leaning in and kissing him again, your hands lightly brushing against his chest. His surprise melts into a quiet groan as he deepens the kiss, his fingers tangling gently in your hair while his other hand finds its way to the small of your back.

Behind you, Chan stands up slowly, his dark eyes locked on the two of you. There’s a heat in his gaze, his tongue swiping over his lower lip as he watches, his hands slipping casually into his pockets.

Jisung pulls away just enough to look into your eyes, his breath warm against your lips. “You’re dangerous, you know that?” he murmurs, a grin playing at the edges of his mouth.

“Only to you,” you tease, your voice barely above a whisper.

Chan steps forward, his boots clicking softly against the floor before he leans down and cups your face in his hands. His touch is gentle but firm as he tilts your chin up, his eyes searching yours for permission.

When you don’t pull away, he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s slower, deeper, and filled with intent. His thumbs brush against your jawline as he holds you steady, the kiss sending a shiver down your spine.

As Chan kisses you, Jisung doesn’t move far. Instead, he wraps his arms around you from behind, his lips finding the curve of your neck. He presses a series of soft, lingering kisses along your skin, his breath warm and his touch featherlight.

Chan pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he glances at Jisung over your shoulder. “You good back there?” he asks, his voice rough with a mix of humor and something darker.

Jisung grins against your neck, his hands tightening around your waist. “Oh, I’m very good,” he replies, his voice muffled as he presses another kiss to your neck.

Chan brushes his thumb gently against your cheek, his gaze steady and soft despite the heat simmering in his dark eyes. “If you don’t want to go any further, let us know,” he says quietly, his voice low and reassuring. “There’s no pressure.”

You take a deep breath, the tension in your shoulders easing at his words. Meeting his gaze, you manage a small, shy smile. “My bedroom is the door at the end of the hall.”

A flicker of surprise crosses Chan’s face before it’s replaced with a warm, knowing smile. He takes your hand, his grip firm but careful, and starts leading you toward the hallway. Behind you, Jisung remains attached to your back, his arms draped loosely around your waist as he follows your movements step for step.

The short walk feels longer than it is, your heart racing with anticipation. When you reach the door, Chan opens it for you, stepping inside first to take in the space before turning back to you and Jisung. The room is cosy and well-kept, the bed neatly made with soft, neutral tones, and fairy lights strung up around the walls giving it a warm glow.

Jisung’s eyes sparkle with excitement as he steps inside, still clinging to you. “Oooh! I get to dom! I haven’t done that in a while. Chan doesn’t let me dom him!”

You let out a shy giggle as he twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. “Is that so?”

Chan snorts, closing the door behind him. “That’s because you’re a menace, Ji.”

“And you love it,” Jisung retorts, grinning as he tugs lightly on the strand of hair before letting it fall back into place.

Chan steps closer, his gaze dropping to meet yours, his voice taking on a teasing edge. “You ready for all other men to be ruined for you?”

You nod, biting your lip nervously but unable to suppress the small, eager smile that tugs at your mouth.

Jisung’s grin softens as he gently cups your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You know this isn’t just a one-time thing, right?” His voice is quieter now, almost tentative, as if he needs to be sure.

You nod again, your hands lightly resting on his chest. “I know.”

Something shifts in Jisung’s expression, a mix of relief and exhilaration, before he leans in and kisses you, his lips warm and eager against yours. His hands slide down to your waist, gripping you firmly as he deepens the kiss. In one swift motion, he lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he presses you back against the wall.

Chan steps closer, his hands brushing against Jisung’s shoulders as he tilts his head to kiss the side of Jisung’s neck. His lips trail up slowly, leaving warm, open-mouthed kisses along Jisung’s skin, making him shiver slightly even as he keeps his focus on you.

Jisung pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his breathing uneven but his grin still intact. “Ready for this, baby?”

You nod, your hands curling around the back of his neck as your chest presses against his. With both of them here, surrounding you with their attention and warmth, you’ve never felt safer or more wanted.

Three Months Later

The Alpha Phi frat house is as chaotic as ever, laughter and the faint hum of music filling the space as you step inside with Chan and Jisung. You’re wearing black cargo trousers, a lilac cropped lace camisole, and black Converse. Your hair is clipped up messily, stray strands framing your face, and your makeup is flawless as usual.

Jisung struts beside you, his black baggy jeans slung low enough to reveal the waistband of his black boxers. His cropped black long-sleeved top and silver chain make him look effortlessly edgy, and Chan, on your other side, is the perfect counterpoint with his black cargo trousers, sleek black t-shirt, leather jacket, and matching chain.

The three of you are greeted by the sight of Minho lounging on the couch with Felix perched in his lap, their positions far too cosy for anything innocent. Felix is giggling about something, his blonde hair tousled as Minho’s arms keep him firmly in place.

“What’s going on?” Felix asks, his bright eyes darting between the three of you as you hesitate near the doorway. There’s a curious tilt to his head, but his smile is easy and warm.

You open your mouth to speak but quickly close it again, glancing at Minho with wide eyes. At the same time, Jisung nudges Chan, who scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. Minho’s grip tightens on Felix’s waist as if bracing himself for impact. His knowing smirk is the only indication that he’s been expecting this moment for weeks.

Felix frowns slightly, leaning back against Minho. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“Uh, yeah,” Jisung says, dragging out the words with a nervous laugh. “You could say that.”

Before Felix can ask anything else, you and Jisung simultaneously push Chan forward, using him as a shield as you step behind him. “You tell him,” Jisung whispers urgently, peeking over Chan’s shoulder.

Chan sighs, giving both of you a side-eye before turning to Felix. “Okay. Felix,” he starts, his tone careful but firm. “You know Jisung and I are together, right?”

Felix blinks, his expression turning incredulous. “Obviously. I’ve heard you two fuck in every part of the house.”

Chan pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath before continuing. “Right. Well, we added a third to our relationship.”

Felix’s face lights up with excitement. “That’s great! Who is it?!”

Minho stares at Felix in disbelief, his lips parting slightly before he mutters, “Oh, Lix. You’re so pretty. So, so pretty.”

Jisung, still partially hidden behind Chan, snickers. “But dumb. Even compared to me.”

Felix’s head snaps toward Minho, his frown deepening. “Well?! Who is it?”

Minho sighs, rolling his eyes like he’s explaining something painfully obvious. “It’s Y/N.”

Felix tilts his head further, the frown deepening into confusion. “My sister Y/N?”

Chan, deadpan, replies, “No, another Y/N on campus.”

Felix’s eyes widen, looking between all of you. “Really?”

Minho groans, his hand dragging down his face. “So, so pretty.”

Everyone goes quiet, waiting for Felix to piece it together. Jisung and you peek over Chan’s shoulders, your expressions nervous but slightly amused as you watch the gears turning in Felix’s brain.

But nothing happens. Felix’s brow furrows, his mouth opening and closing like he’s about to speak but can’t find the words. Minho watches him for another few seconds before shaking his head in resignation.

“It’s not computing, is it?” Jisung whispers to you, his voice barely audible as he stifles a laugh.

You shake your head, biting your lip to hold back your own giggles. “Not at all.”

Felix finally bursts out, “Wait, so you’re telling me-”

Everyone leans in slightly, hopeful.

“-you, Jisung and Y/N are… like, all three of you?” His eyes dart between you, Jisung, and Chan, still visibly processing.

Minho buries his face in Felix’s shoulder with a groan. “Yes, baby. Yes, that’s exactly what we’ve been saying. God, you’re gorgeous, but your brain…”

Felix’s eyes narrow at Minho’s tone. “Shut up. I get it. I’m just surprised!” He turns to you, his voice higher-pitched now. “You? Really?”

Jisung pats Chan on the back. “We might be here a while.”

It’s been twenty minutes, and Felix is still sitting in Minho’s lap, staring blankly at the floor. His mouth occasionally opens as if he’s about to say something, only to snap shut again. Meanwhile, you and Jisung remain firmly behind Chan, who’s started tapping his foot against the hardwood floor, his arms crossed as his patience wears thin.

Minho gently strokes Felix’s arm, his voice soft but laced with teasing. “I know your little brain has processed it by now, baby. Come on, some emotion. Anything. You can do it.”

Felix blinks a few times before his gaze slowly shifts to you, his expression finally breaking out of the fog of shock. “Wait, wait, wait,” he says, his tone incredulous as he points at you. “You’ve never had a serious boyfriend in your life. Ever. Just random hookups! And now you come back with two boyfriends?”

Your eyes widen, and you glance at Jisung, who’s biting his lip to keep from laughing. Chan sighs heavily but stays silent as Felix continues his rant.

“What the fuck is this bullshittery?” Felix exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “It took me twenty fucking years to lock down one man! One! She meets these guys and bam! Two boyfriends! Just like that! The universe is sexist and homophobic!”

Jisung finally bursts out laughing, clutching his stomach as he leans on Chan for support. “It wasn’t like bam!” he protests between giggles. “There was a buildup, okay? Like two months of it. And now we’ve been happily dating for three months.”

Felix’s head snaps toward him, his jaw dropping. “Three months?! How the fuck did I not notice?”

Minho, who’s been quietly holding back his own laughter, smirks. “You didn’t notice because I was deployed as your distraction.” He leans closer to Felix’s ear, his voice dropping slightly. “Every time Chan and Jisung left to see Y/N, I railed you into next week.”

Felix makes a choking noise, his cheeks going bright red. “Minho!”

Minho grins shamelessly, brushing a strand of Felix’s hair back. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Felix glares at him for a moment before sighing dramatically and turning back to you, Jisung, and Chan. He points at you, his expression serious. “Okay! Fine! But if either of you hurt her,” he says, directing his attention to Jisung and Chan, “I did taekwondo for twelve years, and I’ll fuck you up.”

Jisung salutes him, his grin wide. “Noted.”

Chan nods solemnly. “Fair warning. Got it.”

Felix leans back against Minho, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Now, Minho, take me somewhere where I can cry, scream, and throw up to process this bullshit. Because now I have the knowledge that my friends are Eiffel towering my sister!”

He gags dramatically, covering his face with both hands as Minho finally loses his composure and laughs openly. “Alright, baby,” Minho says, standing up and hoisting Felix with him like he weighs nothing. “Let’s get you somewhere private to let it all out.”

As Minho carries Felix toward the stairs, Felix shoots you one last look, his hand flailing in mock accusation. “This isn’t over, Y/N! I need therapy!”

As Felix and Minho disappear up the stairs, you let out a heavy sigh. “Booze,” you say firmly, your tone decisive. “I need booze.”

Jisung perks up immediately, grinning like the devil himself. “The kitchen is more of a bar than a place we store food. Let’s go.” He takes your hand, leading you toward the kitchen as Chan follows, shaking his head fondly. “And hey, if you’re nice, I’ll roll us some joints.”

You raise an eyebrow at him as you step into the spacious but chaotic kitchen. “Am I not always nice?”

Jisung freezes for a second before turning to you with wide eyes and an apologetic grin. “Kidding! Kidding, baby!” He tugs you closer and presses a quick kiss to your temple. “Tell you what, we can even use my cherry papers.”

That earns a smile from you, the edges of your tension softening. “Deal.”

Chan rolls his eyes, already moving toward the counter to pull down glasses. “You two are impossible,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to his words.

Jisung skips over to a cupboard and pulls out a tin labelled Jisung’s Shit in bold, slightly crooked letters. He pops it open on the counter, revealing a neatly arranged collection of rolling papers, a grinder, and a stash that smells distinctly skunky and sweet. “What’ll it be?” he asks over his shoulder, wiggling his eyebrows. “Straight joints, spliffs, or my famous two-layer combo?”

“Famous?” Chan interjects as he pours three hefty servings of whiskey into the glasses. “Last time you made that, you couldn’t get off the couch for six hours.”

“Which means it worked,” Jisung retorts, sticking his tongue out before turning back to you. “Your call, baby.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head as you lean against the counter. “Keep it simple tonight.”

Jisung mock-salutes you, grabbing the papers and his grinder with an exaggerated flourish. As he works, Chan slides a glass into your hand, his own already in his other. “Here,” he says, his tone warm.

You take a sip, the burn of the whiskey grounding you almost immediately. Jisung hums softly to himself as he rolls, his hands deft and practised. It’s a strangely comforting sight, the three of you falling into this rhythm together, the chaos of earlier fading into the background.

Jisung finishes quickly, holding up the joint with a grin. “And voilà. Cherry perfection.” He lights it with a flourish, taking a quick puff before passing it to you.

You take it carefully, the sweet smoke curling into the air as you take a slow, cautious drag. The tension in your chest eases a little more, replaced by a warmth that’s equal parts the whiskey, the weed, and the presence of the two men beside you.

Chan clinks his glass against yours, his smile soft but teasing. “So, what’s the verdict? Does this make up for your brother’s meltdown?”

You snort, shaking your head. “It helps. He’s going to be a drama queen about this for weeks, though.”

Jisung leans against your side, draping an arm over your shoulders. “Good thing you’ve got us, huh? We’ll keep you sane.”

“You say that like you two aren’t half my stress,” you tease, earning a loud laugh from both of them.

As the night wears on, the three of you settle into easy conversation, the kitchen filled with laughter and the faint haze of smoke. It’s not perfect, and the chaos of the day still lingers at the edges, but for now, it feels enough. You’re surrounded by warmth, care, and a sense of belonging that you hadn’t expected to find but now that you have it, you’re not letting it go.

General Taglist: @nightmarenyxx

Requested By: @omgsquee2001

[friedtyrantbasement]

Tough conversations and good distractions

M reader

Cast: Yizhuo, Aeri, Yooyeon (not mentioned often)

Tags: smut, top reader, cheating, angst, marrital issues, drama, multi part series

WC: 3.8k

This felt like a repeat of how your parents argued. Your tie feels tight around your neck, this is what you never wanted to feel at any point in your adult life.

Your marriage was going through a rough patch for a while. Like, a seriously long while.

Yizhuo and yourself had been together for almost a year now, and at the beginning of your marriage you felt like nothing could go wrong. Of course, the honeymoon period didn't last long.

It's not like you try your best to fix it either in all honesty. You work in a fast-paced corporate job and the last thing you need to come home to is your wife asking you incessantly about who you've been conversing with and other questions you feel like you answered a million times.

You don't like to lie but distractions were needed to help keep you in your right mind.

“Baby, for the last time. The only one I have my eyes on is you. I swear it.” You learned to give that speech almost every time she felt insecure. It was getting over used, you might need to paraphrase it soon.

On top of Yizhuo’s knack for insecure behaviour, you have to deal with her family's high expectations. You're the vice president of your older brother's company but that wasn't enough for your in-laws. They wanted you to start your own company, be risky but that just wasn't who you were. You're a laid back guy who enjoys doing his job and one hell of a good one at that and getting paid without making any huge decisions that could affect other people at large.

“God, I just don't understand why you can't talk to me! You act like I'm not here for you when I tell you that you can always talk to me.” You want to roll your eyes at her words. Yizhuo would look impeccable if it weren't for the fact that you thought she had gone deaf in one ear.

“No sweetheart, I said that I simply have nothing to talk about, not that I can't talk with you.” You say gripping the dinner table you're currently leaning back on as your wife sits on the couch away from you. Yizhuo had been pressing you for answers on why you were so quiet these days but you just weren't up for it.

She licks her lips, her tongue sliding over her plump bottom lip and squeezing her eyes tightly as she blinks, as if she was calming herself down.

“I just have been…. Hearing things.” She starts.

“What things, Yizhuo?” You say her name, which makes her shift in her seat. Now she's rubbing her hands as if she's going to hear heartbreaking news.

“I've heard… that you've been seeing another woman. Specifically, that new girl on your work team.” Oh lord. You want to rip your hair out. ‘Is she seriously accusing me of sleeping with a university intern that I haven't even met?’ Your thoughts laugh at the situation, it's hilarious at this point.

The person she should worry about is the one closest to her.

“Oh really? And who told you that? Your little spy Aeri? She barely knows left from right and how many times has she been wrong about shit like this? Huh? Drop it, Yizhuo. I'm serious.”

You were dead serious, tired and not in the mood to be playing bullshit with your wife this early in the morning right before work. “Fine! But I still don't get why you just can't say ‘No honey, I'm not cheating’. Why can't you just say that to me?” Yizhuo says, throwing her hands up in defeat as she gets up to head to your shared bedroom.

A sigh leaves your mouth. This has gotten ridiculous. “You know what? I don't think that no matter what I say or do you're ever going to believe me. That's why, Yizhuo. So I'm going to work now and I would recommend you to drop this nonsense before I get home.”

You don't even let her say something back. You grab your work bag, car keys and you're gone with the wind. Now you're in the worst possible mood ever, sorry to all of your coworkers today.

—

“What's up with the VP today? He's crashing out over a few small mistakes.” One of your coworkers whispered in the break room. “Isn't he married to that fine woman? What issues could he have?” Another one said, edged with slight envy.

“Probably just some troubles in paradise. It's their one year mark soon. Everything goes to shit after that, I would know.” A supervisor says, his voice quieting with the last part of his dialogue. As if it was scripted, the workers collectively release a sigh, remembering the way they used to formerly be with their partners.

Of course, there was always someone keeping an ear out for a good conversation—minus the collective sigh at the end—especially when it has to do with someone she's been keeping an eye out for.

You are half near losing your mind. The argument from this morning and now your team was making numerous mistakes regardless of how small they were. ‘Fuck, I need to smoke’ You think getting out of your chair that you'd been glued to for the past four hours. Besides, the air and the person waiting for you will clear your head.

You press the elevator button a few times and that small action makes you wonder just when you have become such an impatient person. You used to love a good wait time especially when you were about to do something you had promised yourself you would never do again. Fortunately, the elevator opens, inviting you to enter it and whisk yourself away from the stress of your life.

“Hold it, please!” You hear a feminine voice call out, her heels making a light jog towards the elevator which you hold your arm out, keeping it open. “Thank you so much. I wasn't ready to wait another 10 minutes for the elevators.” The black haired girl breathes out and you chuckle nodding your head at her.

“I hear it. I still can't believe they only have two elevators for a fifteen floor building.” You say, getting a better look at the woman who's in a neat pencil skirt and a button up shirt. “What's your name? Haven't seen you before.” You mention extending your hand to the woman.

She takes your hand shaking it. “The names Yooyeon. Don't bother introducing yourself, I think we'll end up seeing each other more often.” Just then the elevator opens cueing her leave. Yooyeon waves as she steps off the elevator. You watch her walk away. Your eyes are unnecessarily narrowing down on her ass as the elevator closes.

You breathe out a sigh, it has been a while since you had an easy going conversation with someone. You think for a split second just as you enter the rooftop. “Well well well, look who we have here.” You hear a sensual voice purr.

“Oh my, is that my wife's makeshift CIA investigator? Goodness, what do I owe the pleasure, Aeri.” You say sarcastically walking beside the woman, pulling out a cigarette to which Aeri lights it up for you. The woman dangerously close, you can smell her Chanel perfume as her eyelashes bat at you.

“Oh dear, have I ruffled your feathers on such a pleasant morning, sir?” She says, coyly placing her hand on the lapel of your suit. You remove her hand and breathe out your smoke onto her face. “Do you find yourself happy confusing my wife?” She fans the smoke away from her and smiles at you, if it were anyone else they would have misunderstood her smile as a genuine one.

“I enjoy it just as much as you like filling me up.” Her words make you clench your jaw. Your hand that does not have a cigarette lodged between two fingers grips her face. “Watch that mouth. You're much more careless than I thought.” Aeri only grips your blazer and throws your hand away from her face.

You breathe in smoke again, holding it in and then you blow it out. You know what's going to happen after this. You know you can't trust yourself with this woman, and she knows that just as well as you do. So you step out your cigarette and press your lips against hers. Aeri meets you with fervor and passion.

“You know you can't get enough.” She whispers haughtily, confident in herself. Unfortunately, you know she's right and so you burst out laughing to her confusion. Aeri almost gets the chance to ask you what's wrong with you but you kiss her again. Your tongue running over her lips, sucking on her bottom lip, and just like that Aeri feels like she's the only one in the world. Pressing chaste kisses all over her lips and then you slide your tongue into her mouth. You hear her release a moan, a pretty one at that. It rings in your ear, letting you grip the back of her neck pushing her as close as you possibly could.

It's an addiction, one that feels so good, one that you doubt you could stop. So you don't. You're driving Aeri to one of her father's numerous hotels to check in to so you can take your fingers out of her cunt and stick something else in.

“Fuck- drive faster, you piece of shit.” The name calling makes you scoff. “Didn't I tell you to watch your fucking mouth earlier?” You curl the pads of your fingers to hit her spot. Aeri's back arches, the back of her hand falling lightly over her mouth as she tears up. Finally, you achieve your desired silence minus the moans and ‘Fuck’ and ‘Mm right there’ ‘s coming from Aeri's mouth.

Unfortunately, you reach your destination all too quickly. You slide your fingers out of her sopping folds and she shoots you a glare but nevertheless gets out of the car, walking a few paces ahead of you. The receptionist is used to the two of you and your monthly rendezvous with the Chairman's daughter.

“Don't take so long, you know what we're here for and I’d rather not spend more time with you than I'd like to.” Aeri says, as you zip her black short dress down. You roll your eyes and push her onto the bed without much regard for her. You throw off your blazer and pull your tie off only to unbutton the first button. You crawl closer to her, you bury your face into her neck, pressing a hot kiss against her pale skin.

By the time you're done making love with her neck, your belt has been unbuckled and your pants are off. Aeri's fingers pull the waistband of your boxers down with some help of yourself. “Come on, put it in.” She whines into your ear, you aim your length at her entrance but don't do as the vixen wants.

“So fucking whiny for it, why don't you beg? Act a little cute for me, won't you? It's been so hard calming my wife down because of your evil whispers.” Aeri stiffens at the mention of Yizhuo. You can see her eyes flicker, you wonder if that's if she feels bad or if she doesn't like how much you're talking.

But the thought of reality doesn't last long before you feel Aeri press her dainty and magically gorgeous hand on your chest pushing you down onto your back. Aeri unbuttons the rest of your blouse at a torturously slow speed, which you would never admit turned you on a bit. She presses hot kisses down your torso starting at your jaw, so near to your lips and further down she went.

As a natural occurrence would have it she landed just where your lower stomach is. Her tongue flat against your stomach, giving it small kisses and kitten licks. You just wish she'd go a bit lower so you hold a hand to the back of her head and try to escort her way to your hard, pre cum leaking cock.

“You want me to suck on him? Act a little cute for me, won't you?” Referring to your cock as ‘him’ and the sarcastic repetition of your words. The two of you lock eyes for a moment before you feel the need to kiss her again. So you do as you desire but not before you get what you want.

You wrap a hand around your cock and push it closer to her lips. Aeri looks up at you and you tilt your head slightly with a pout on your lips, as your back rests against her head board. She gives in to your little show and wraps her lips around your tip, her tongue makes small circles around the head before letting more of your length slide into her mouth. You suck in a deep breath as you feel Aeri apply suction.

Your hand naturally returns to the back of her neck politely urging her to take more of your shaft. Aeri knows the desperation that you're displaying and she enjoys it but more than anything she enjoys seeing you crumble, that mask of being the all responsible, perfect family man and vice president just falls off under her touch.

Though this is something that she knows will never last forever, she gives in taking you into the back of her throat. She takes your cock whole, letting it hit the back of her throat and she lets her mouth head back to the tip. Aeri repeats this over and over. No regard for the way she’ll probably gag at having you so deep.

As if she wants to consume you whole, monopolise you, own you, the greed that she feels is most likely consuming herself but she delusions herself into thinking that she is not affected by the way your eyes are stuck onto hers.

Aeri can feel your hips twitch, as if you’re warning her unconsciously of your orgasm. Her tongue slides over your member, carefully paying attention to it in the most romantic way possible. The poised woman removes your cock from her warm mouth allowing your white hot to land on her face in untimed spurts. Your hand grabs some tissues on the bedside table of the bed to pass to your accomplice. To which she takes and carefully dabs her face, erasing any residue left.

Now you think for a moment, ‘She looks pretty.’ but you don't allow yourself to think any further, after all Aeri would tie a noose around your neck if she knew you had such thoughts, soft thoughts. You lay the woman down on her back, the rest of work would be on your part so you slide on a condom looking down at the woman under you.

“A man with no arms could move faster than you, don’t waste my time.” Aeri spits at you and you scoff at her words, lowering yourself and pressing your cock head against her wet entrance. Her back arches and her arms wrap around your neck as your cock enters her, filling every space in her cunt.

“Fuck, it’s been so long.” You groan as you bury your head into the crook of her neck, your hand slides under the back of her thigh caressing her softly as you fuck her. Aeri’s small swears and loud moans fill the hotel room along with your groans. Your hips rock back into her pelvis, and you can feel Aeri's small movements in an attempt to match your thrusts. You're stretching her out in ways she could never imagine. The tightness of her sopping pussy has you groaning out in awe.

Your eyes are stuck on the way Aeri's breasts move every time you fuck her. You throw her legs over your shoulders and get as close as humanly possible, your face perched between the woman's perfect boobs. Your mouth latches onto one of her nipples, sucking it, licking it, and giving it all your attention and focus. Aeri yelps and mewls, her luxurious sounds of pleasure leaking out of her pretty lips only encourages you to continue working her breasts. But you never forget to hit the deepest part of her pussy, you find yourself unable to stop giving the most concentrated strokes known to mankind.

“Go- god, keep going, you- fuck so perfect for me.” Aeri says as her hands manage to touch your face and bring you to focus on her face, that's contorted in the ecstasy that you bring her. Both of your lips find one another with some struggle of space, yet your tongue slides into her perfectly curated mouth and you spend time working her mouth. “You're the one who's so fucking perfect.” You praise her and you can tell she enjoys the words of affirmation after all, her cunt is tightening around you.

As if you would die if you did not seek pleasure from Aeri you continue to chase your high. Despite hers being long reached, Aeri can only let out gasps and whines asking you to give her a break. “I'll give you a break when you deserve one. I haven't even cum yet.” Your hips jerk again into her and her head falls back. The sounds of her moaning are rivaled by the sounds of your balls slapping harshly against her skin, additionally the wet sounds coming from her pussy. “You're acting like you don't enjoy this, you hear that? Those sounds are all yours. Don't get so fucking arrogant, you whore.” you spit out cruelly, and she responds with a sobbed out apology.

A small smile paints your lips, the feeling of pride swelling in your chest. Who else but you could bring the Chairman's daughter down a notch other than you? If the world was your oyster this is what you would be doing for the rest of your life. “That's what I thought. Don't forget your fucking place. And tell me where your place is?” You egg her on, you know Aeri knows the answer to this question. Her eyes look away from yours and she can only bite her lip. So you stop thrusting for a moment, which causes a whiny mewl to leave Aeri's lips.

“My place is..” she takes her time pronouncing the words. It only increases your satisfaction of watching the proud woman suddenly melt into a girl who only has her eyes on you. “...below you.” A smile slaps onto your face, your hand lands on her hair, caressing her so softly. You know she's waiting for her reward and it's your job to give her what she wants.

You bottom out in Aeri's cunt, filling her up, a cuss falls out of her mouth. Your hand goes under her thighs and pushes her knees beside her head. Your fucking her rough and murderously fast, she's practically screaming. Your cock is hitting a perfect spot, your teeth are gritting together. “This is what good girls get when they act good.” You say, your voice low and deep as Aeri reaches yet another earth shattering orgasm. Yours is on the way soon, with the way your balls are tightening. You slide out of her, you take off your condom, then you push yourself back in.

“No- wait, you can't. That's too-” Your hand falls over your mouth. “Shut the fuck up, I'm not cumming inside of you, dumb whore. I'm just feeling your insides a bit.” And to your expectations, it felt so good, you should've done this from the start. You're orgasming soon though so you slide out your cock again and let yourself finish on her tits and face.

Both of you are panting, completely out of breath. “What's with you today?” Aeri says, obviously annoyed with you, but you couldn't bother to care. “My wife and I have an interview to get to. I'll shower first.” You ignore her question and take a quick peek at your watch that is currently the only piece of clothing you have along with your ring. “Well, since you didn't read the list of interviewees. My father and I are also getting interviewed. We have no time.” You know what Aeri means and you smile.

She rolls her eyes and grabs you by the elbow and leads you to the washroom. Suddenly you feel like you have an extra 20 minutes to spare. So long as you get another blow from her. “Let's get each other clean, Uchinaga.”

—

“Do you know how much we're running late?!” You hear Yizhuo say from the second floor of your mansion. “Honey, we're fine. It's a 25 minute drive.” You were thankful that your limo at least had champagne in there to keep you company as your wife freaks out over the time.

Your eyes catch Yizhuo peeking down at you from the ledge of the stairs. Her face coloured in seriousness with her full lips pursed into an unhappy one. You lock eye contact with her and pull out one of your award winning smiles, the one that you'd use during the interview.

“Get off your phone, and tell the chauffeur to pull around.” Yizhuo's voice is elegant and perfect, and you know she means it. “Now, please.” Though it doesn't sound like Yizhuo is asking, rather she's demanding, and of course you comply. You go outside to see your chauffeur, an older gentleman with grey hair and a heartwarming aura.

“Pull around the limo, the one with alcohol. Thank you, Greg.” He nods at your words with a polite smile on his face, and he's off to get the car. You turn around to go grab your blazer and Yizhuo's fur coat off the couch.

“Sweetheart, thank you for getting my coat. You're perfect.” Yizhuo says, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek as you open the door outside for her. “Anything for you, my beloved.” You say, holding the coat open for her to slip on easily, which she does. You throw on your black coat easily. Yizhuo's coat is black fur, befitting of her white cocktail dress.

“You look gorgeous, I'm almost hurt that someone else will see you looking this good.” You compliment, earning a smile and an elegant giggle from your wife. “And all of this will be yours when we get home. As long as you're on your best behaviour.” She says coyly, and you could practically feel your cock hardening under your pants.

You couldn't wait to get this over with, get home and collect your prize. Whether you would live up to deserve it… well we'll find out.

[trainer-from-unova]

day on the green

𖤐 bandom blog: @princess-lvcifer 𖤐 english ao3 𖤐 spanish ao3 𖤐 edits 𖤐 kofi 𖤐 𝄞 𖤐

ship: eddie munson x f!reader

summary: you travel with your best friend through the country to go to a metal festival in San Francisco with him

a/n: lots of metallica references as usual / i wrote this in summer 2022 / english isn't my first language, sorry if something's weird expressed

cw: fluff, best friends to lovers, sexual and romantic tension, sexual humor, affectionate insults

word count: 12'1k

"______, Eddie's calling," said her mother, entering her room without knocking or asking permission. She was listening to Metallica at full volume and knew she probably wasn't going to hear her.

"I'm coming," she said dropping the magazine she was reading, leaving it at the foot of his bed and getting up from it to go downstairs to where the house phone was. "Hey, what's up?" She wanted to hold back the urge to smile like the lovesick fool she was, since her mother was circling the house like a shark, and she didn't want her to know she liked him, not because she was ashamed of him or because her mother thought he was a bad influence — on the contrary, she and Eddie got along well, she didn't see him as a bad guy, but who would want her mother to know which boy she liked? And on top of that he was a close friend who often went to her house.

"Are you at home?" he asked nervously.

"Can't you see I am, asshole?" She asked now. "What's wrong?"

"Okay, don't move from there, I'm on my way," he said, and hung up.

"You fucking asshole," she whispered to herself, she hated being left wondering, she was worried, but knowing Eddie it wouldn't be serious. The most serious thing that could happen was that he'd get caught smoking or selling weed.

She didn't hear Eddie park his van in front of her house because her music was on full blast, but if it wasn't for that, she would have heard him. She had good hearing and recognised the noise made by the engines of his loved ones' cars. She could also recognise the sound of keys or footsteps as they walked.

What she did hear was the doorbell of the house in the distance. She got out of bed and turned the music down, it was obvious that Eddie was there to tell her something, although she had no idea what, but she'd better be able to hear it loud and clear, she'd listen to her favourite songs loud and clear at any other time.

The door to her room was open, so he didn't ask permission to enter. He was practically at his houss, but he did leave it ajar when he entered.

"What is it?" She asked indignantly as she sat cross-legged on her bed. "You've got me fucking intrigued!"

"Boom," he said, raising his right hand, in which he held a pamphlet. She could clearly see names of rock and metal bands she knew: Scorpions, Ratt, Y&T, Metallica, Rising Force, Victory.... Though his eyes went to her favourite band, Metallica, hardly paying attention to the others, as she didn't care that much about them.

Eddie took off his shoes and sat down on her bed, facing her, also with his legs crossed.

"It's this year's Day on the Green," he said, handing her the sheet, "Saturday 31 August. The next day it's Wham! and some other pop bands I obviously don't want to see. I've always wanted to go. We have to go, I won't take no for an answer."

"18'50$... It's expensive, and in Oakland! How are we going to get there, if we go at all?"

"But it's worth the price! And we can go by bus, or by plane, or in my caravan... Yeah, I think my caravan would be better. Think about it, you and me, travelling around the country in a caravan, listening to our favourite songs and shouting them out, and then listening to them played live by their creators and together with more fans..." He couldn't fit the smile on his face and his eyes were shining, it was adorable when he looked so excited, you could tell he liked what he was talking about. "It's a great plan, you can't say no," he said pointing his right hand with his index finger.

It was true, it was a great plan and she couldn't say no to him. And she really wanted to live such a unique experience with him, and alone, but the money issue put her off, and she didn't know what her mother would say about it.

"And on top of that, it's the summer holidays, you can't give me the excuse of school."

"Yes, but the money and my mother..."

"Don't worry about the money, you know..." He whispered.

Yes, it was true, he was loaded from selling weed, but it was bad for her to accept that he paid her entrance fee and everything, and that he drove and paid for the petrol.

"Even though you're failing all your science subjects, you're a good girl, I'm sure she'll let you have a whim like that. And I'm sure she doesn't think too badly of me, does she?"

"I hope so... But before we say anything, we should organise it a bit, so that she sees that we're not going on a wild adventure, that we're organised, and get her in a good mood."

"I see the logic of it, but it has to be as soon as possible, tickets may fly."

"Then let's get down to work. We must go to the library to consult maps and their routes."

That's what they did. They worked out how long the trip would take to get there and back, when they would have to leave Hawkins and when they would be back, motels to spend the night in, gas stations, how much money each of them would have to take with them to pay for expenses, how much the whole trip would cost, and a little emotional and psychological blackmail to use on _______'s mother if needed.

The next day, she let her mother know that Eddie would be going to dinner in the evening and that they wanted to tell her something important. The second she thought they wanted to tell her that they had been together for a long time or even worse, like a pregnancy, but she cleared her worries by telling her it was nothing of the sort.

"I want you here at six o'clock sharp. Get ready," she told him as she got out of Eddie's caravan in front of her house. Her house was between the school and his house, so he was her taxi driver.

"I know, I know."

"Isn't he coming in yet?" asked her mother when she saw her walk in the front door alone.

"No, he's going home to get ready," she said as she made her way to the stairs and took her backpack off her shoulders, "or did you want him to get ready here?"

"What should I make him for dinner?"

"Whatever you want, he'll eat it all pleased," she said on the first floor.

Hours passed and the doorbell rang. It was time. Luckily, he had been on time. For what he wanted to do, he was, but not for his early morning classes at school.

Eddie wasn't that uncomfortable, because he already knew the mother of his best and only female friend, but she had told him that her mother saw him as a possible boyfriend, so he knew what was going through her mind when she saw him with her daughter (the same thing happened with some people at school), and that made him ashamed, because on top of that, at least on his part, he did feel something for _______, something more than friendship.

And well, besides, it was the first time he had dinner and spent so much time with her mother, and of course, there was also the main plan, the mission they had to achieve: to convince her to let her go with him on a trip around the country and go to that metal festival. Technically she didn't need her permission, since she was already 18, but being a woman and still living under her roof, for things like that it was better to have her approval.

"Well, what is it that you wanted to tell me? Intrigue kills me," said her mother, as the three of them sat down at the table.

"Like mother, like daughter," he thought.

"Well, mom, as you know, I love metal, and so does he. It's a music that has helped me a lot in many ways for a long time, and so has Eddie, even though we've known each other for half a year. There's going to be a festival in Oakland on Saturday the 31st of August and we'd really like to go. We've thought about going in his caravan, both of us driving every couple of hours. Also, because of the proximity, we'd like to visit San Francisco and Los Angeles for at least a day, and we'd come back through the south, through the Bible Belt. He has insisted on paying for everything but I have told him no, I could pull from my savings or start working a bit. We've also looked at routes and motels to sleep in, and if anything should happen to the car Eddie is a good mechanic and has all the necessary equipment. I would call you every time we stopped at a place with a phone box. And I think I deserve to go to the festival, plus it's something that would make me very happy and travelling around the country in a car would be an experience..."

"And of course I would look after her in every way, you don't have to worry about anything," he said as seriously as she did.

"Of course, of course," she pointed her index finger at him, giving him a quick glance and a quick nod.

She looked at each of them and a smirk appeared on her face. They were both already fearing the worst.

"All this to ask me to take you on a trip and go to a concert?" she asked incredulously while holding back her laughter.

"...Yes?"

"For God's sake, you don't need to worry so much, you're both old enough to ask my permission. Besides, I can't wait for you to see the world and get wise," she said looking only at her daughter.

"So, ma'am, does that mean yes?" asked Eddie.

"Of course it does," she replied, and they both looked at each other smiling from ear to ear and high-fived.

She looked at them tenderly. It was obvious to her that they were both in love with each other.

Time passed ridiculously slowly.

During the months of waiting before the festival began, Eddie slightly increased the prices of the weed he sold, and started giving private guitar lessons to kids in town to earn a little extra and to disguise where he was getting the money to afford the trip. Meanwhile, she started giving drawing, English and Spanish classes to other kids.

On the first day of May Live Aid was announced, but despite being closer than Oakland, as it would be held in Philadelphia and would be no more than a day's drive (not counting the return trip), it was too expensive. 35$ each ticket. The price was understandable, as the event was going to be an unprecedented spectacle, where many people would be working for a good cause, but they already had enough expenses with what the Day on the Green tickets cost and the trip they would be making. Besides, even if they didn't go to the festival, raising so much money in such a short time was quite difficult, as Live Aid would be on 13th July, and tickets flew quickly, and rightly so, seeing the list of artists who were going to attend to help the cause.

Anyway, they watched Live Aid together on TV and that made them want to go to Day on the Green even more.

And finally the day came for them to go on the trip. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't climbing the walls like Spiderman herself because she was so nervous. She had never left Indiana, she had never made such a long trip, both in terms of distance and days, and she had never been separated from her mother for such a long time. But at least she was going to experience all that with her best friend and the boy she was in love with.

She had been ready since the day before and had gone through her luggage four times, and was about to do it for the fifth time, when a clack sounded outside her house. It was him, no doubt about it. She almost had a heart attack. It was time to go.

She left the house with the luggage and she and her mother pretended to put the things in the caravan, but he got off them and insisted on doing it himself.

As it was almost the end of August, and it was so hot, he was wearing no shirt and shorts. Both young friends were embarrassed for her mother to see him like that, but it was an understandable outfit because of the heat.

She hugged her mother goodbye and told her that she loved her very much. As the mother she was, she could feel her nervousness.

"Don't worry about anything, silly, you'll have a great time, you'll see," her mother whispered in her ear as they hugged.

"I know, but..."

"Before you go, I have to take a picture of you!" said her mother as they parted, "Come on, get together."

Eddie put his arm around ______'s shoulders and pulled her close to him, resting his head on hers, and she posed, making a peace sign with one of her hands. He made a devil sign with his free hand.

Her mother took the camera off her neck and handed it to her, they got into the car, both waved goodbye to her mother and Eddie drove off.

"I CAN'T WAIT!" he shouted.

"Same," she said, laughing a little nervously.

"Well, it doesn't look like it from you," he said, looking at her strangely, "what's wrong?"

"It's nerves, don't worry."

"Nerves about what?"

"To make such a trip, to be so far away from my home and my mother for so long, my comfort zone."

"I mean, it would fuck me up at this point, but if you don't want to go, there's still time for me to turn back..."

"What the fuck are you talking about?! No way, of course I want to go on the trip and to the festival, and I've got you on top of that. I wouldn't do this madness with just anyone."

"Do you consider going on a trip and to a festival a crazy thing?" he asked with a mocking smile.

"No, but yes, if it's that far away..."

"As long as you don't tell me to turn around when we're in Nebraska or something like that, it's all right," he said jokingly.

"You know I won't."

On the way they listened and sang along to the cassettes he had, and she brought her own too, so they wouldn't always be alone listening to his.

It was around lunchtime and Eddie had already been driving for a couple of hours, so they stopped to rest and eat.

"Wait, I have to put sunscreen on again," she said before getting back in the car. She had just finished talking to her mother on the phone. She had little to say to her, evidently.

"Really? That's a scam, it's not necessary."

"You're telling me you've been driving around shirtless in the sun for hours without sunscreen?"

"Of course I am."

"You're going to burn, you idiot!"

"No way, you exaggerator."

"Put it," she said, offering the bottle of sunscreen.

"No," she said with disgust.

She poured cream into her free hand, moved closer to him and directed her cream-filled hand to his collarbone, rubbing her hand over it, and trying not to look at his tattooed chest or his tablet, making a superhuman effort not to let her eyes wander to those areas of his body. That took him by surprise, but he kept still and quiet, accepting the gesture.

"Dampen down a little," she asked as she rubbed cream back into her hand, looking up, meeting his eyes. "Do you see how necessary this is?" She asked as she creamed his left cheek, inches from each other. "You're already red."

He was sure he wasn't red from the sun, but he shut up.

"Turn around," she asked again, and he again obeyed.

For a second she stared at his back. She thought is was beautiful and couldn't believe she was about to run hee hands over it. She pushed his hair forward with her little finger so as not to get even a little cream in it.

"Don't you want to put your hair in a high ponytail or a bun?" She asked as she ran her hand down his back. "You'd be cooler."

"I look ridiculous."

"I'm sure you wouldn't. Besides, what difference does it make if I see you like that?"

"A lot," he thought, "you're the only person whose opinion really matters to me."

When he noticed she was done, he turned and she offered him the bottle of sunscreen again. His arms, legs and torso remained. It was understandable, she wasn't going to rub it all over him, he was too old to follow and it would be very uncomfortable in many ways, especially touching his torso, although they both wanted to.

When he finished applying the cream, he gave her back the pot and hugged her tightly.

"You idiot, you're going to stain me and you're sweaty! Ugh!" and he laughed wickedly.

"Do you want me to help you lie on your back?" he asked as he let her out of his grip.

She was wearing shorts and a crop top.

"Okay," she said as she turned around. She didn't need to, she could do it on her own, but she wasn't going to refuse help, especially if it was about him touching her.

Eddie put cream on his right hand and directed his hand to her back. He was nervous, more so than he had been before, when she was creaming him. He didn't know how to touch her, but he knew he had to act normal, so he rubbed his hand across the uncovered part of her back with the mission to get the sticky cream off his hand as quickly as possible. He tried not to look too closely at her back, and his fingertips ended up inside her crop top, unintentionally brushing her bra for a second. Then he slid his hand down her right side to remove what little cream he had left, stopping when he brushed against her trousers. She loved the feel of his hand right then, in that place, like that, even though it probably wasn't a big deal and she was making a movie in her head. Then he pushed her hair forward and decided to rub cream on her neck, massaging it lightly.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome."

He got into the car, in the passenger seat, where she was before, and she quickly rubbed cream on her belly and legs, then sat in the driver's seat, where Eddie was before.

"Turn around and face the window," she said.

"For what?"

"You listen to me, okay?"

"Well... Okay."

She took off the extra hair tie she wore on her wrist as a spare in case she lost the one she was wearing and grabbed Eddie's hair, doing him a bun.

"Tell me, are you cooler right now?"

"Yes, but I'm sure I look ridiculous."

"You look gorgeous, as always," she said matter-of-factly, as she settled everything in the car so she could start driving.

After a few more hours they stopped again to stretch their legs and change drivers, had dinner at a fast food place and finally ended up at a motel, almost on the outskirts of the state.

When they entered the room they saw that there was only one bed.

"I'll go and ask for a room with two beds," he said, turning away.

"Eddie, it's night, and you're exhausted," she stopped him, taking him by the arm. "Come in, come on," she said, nodding her head.

"You don't care?" he asked, referring to sharing a double bed.

"I don't give a shit," she was even excited, but of course she wasn't going to say that, and she couldn't know that he did too, but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable in any way, so that's why he offered asking for a room with two beds.

They arranged their things and the first thing they wanted to do was to take a shower, they were exhausted, sweaty and sticky from the sun cream.

"I'll shower first," they both said at the same time, standing in the middle of the small room after sorting their luggage and taking things out. "...You first," they both said again at the same time, and laughed at the synchronicity and telepathy they sometimes had.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" she asked.

"Come on," he said, leaning closer to her.

They both kept their dominant hands behind their backs and recited the chant of the game at the same time.

"...and... three!" They both pulled their hands behind their backs at the same time, making their hands and fingers make the shape of the object they had chosen in their minds. She drew paper and he drew scissors, but as soon as he saw that she was losing the game, he turned his hand from scissors to stone, and then put his arm around her shoulders, making her walk towards the bathroom.

"You win, you first," he said.

"Dude!" she said, annoyed but laughing.

"Shhh."

"Well okay, but at least let me get some panties and my pajamas, or do you want me to come out of the bathroom naked?"

"All right, all right," he said letting go of her and raising his arms in the air as if he was being mugged.

She grabbed her clothes and stepped into the shower. Meanwhile, he pulled on his pajamas (aka boxer shorts), turned on the TV that was there, looked for MTV and sat on the edge of the bed to watch it. He wanted to lie down on the bed, but he didn't want to stink up the bed with the stench of his sweat or stain it.

When she came out of the bathroom her hair was wet, she was wearing only panties and a baggy T-shirt, and clearly no bra.

"Your turn," she said as she made her way to the bed to lie down on the left side of it.

He got up from the edge of the bed and went into the bathroom, which was full of steam.

"Did you take a hot shower, you crazy woman?" he asked before closing the door to get undressed and get into the shower.

"Yes," she replied as if it was the most normal thing in the world for the month they were in.

"It's the middle of August."

"Do you think I don't know that?" she asked, holding back her laughter, and then he, still surprised, closed the door.

She flicked through the television herself, but ended up back on MTV, then picked up the phone on the bedside table and called her mother again to let her know where they were and that they were okay.

He came out of the bathroom shortly after, wearing only short but baggy black boxer shorts and still with drops of cold water sliding off him, mostly running down his tattooed chest and back from his wet hair.

"Anything interesting on TV?" he asked as he lay down next to her on the bed.

"No, but we should turn it off now anyway," she said, referring to the fact that they had to get up early the next morning to continue driving.

"Yeah," he said, getting out of bed.

He went to turn off the television and the light, then turned on the ceiling fan and opened the window, then took off all his jewellery and watch, and finally lay back down on the bed with her, on her side, resting her head on his right arm. She moved into the same position facing him, and he could see her silhouette perfectly thanks to the little light coming in from outside the motel. Her T-shirt rode up slightly, revealing her belly.

She moved closer and snuggled up to him, which he gladly accepted and wrapped his free, left arm around her.

"I still can't process all of this, if you told me about this when we became friends..." she said as she looked at her friend's tattooed chest.

"Yeah, I wouldn't believe it either," he said, stroking her arm with his thumb.

It was the 27th of July last year, in the morning. She drove to her nearest record shop before they opened first thing in the morning. There was a queue of metalheads waiting in line outside the door, and she assumed they were there for exactly the same thing she was: to buy Metallica's new album, Ride the Lighting. Last year, having just released their first album, Kill 'em all, she had fallen completely in love with them and their style of music, and couldn't miss out on having the new album the instant it was released. She walked past all the metalheads standing there, until someone called out to her, catching her attention.

"_______!"

There he was, standing like the others, impatiently waiting for the shop to open to get his record.

They both knew each other from high school, despite not being in the same year or classes, and not being from popular groups, they understood and respected each other.

"Are you coming to get the new Metallica album?" he asked.

"Yes," and a big smile broke out on Eddie's lips as he gestured for her to come with him, standing next to him in the queue. "Thank you," she said for being a sneak. The person behind him pouted but fortunately didn't protest.

"I didn't know you liked Metallica, let alone knew them," he said, smiling. It was always a pleasure to meet people with the same musical tastes, especially when your tastes were considered strange and living in a small town.

"I can't say the same," she said smiling sideways, "it's pretty obvious looking at you that you do know them and many more rock and metal bands."

During the little while they waited in line they talked about how they met Metallica, their favourite songs from Kill 'em all, their favourite band members and asked each other if they liked other bands.

They went inside and went straight to get their copies of Ride the Lighting to take home.

"I'd love to listen to it together," he said as they left the shop after paying for the records, "and know each other's opinion of the songs instantly."

"Yeah," she said as they walked to the car park.

"I'd invite you to my place, but since my uncle works nights he sleeps in the mornings, and I'm going to have to listen to it," he said, referring to the record, "with my headphones on..."

"It's all right," she said. She could invite him to her house, since her mother was working and she had the whole house to herself, but she had just met him formally, she wasn't going to just invite him to her house. "I have an idea."

"What's that?"

"As soon as we get home we'll listen to it and when we're done we'll call each other to talk about it, what do you think?"

"That's fine with me."

They exchanged phone numbers and got into their cars and headed home to listen to the album for the first time.

Two minutes after she finished listening to the album, the phone rang. She knew it was him.

"What do you think?" he asked expectantly.

"I'm in shock, man."

"In a good way or a bad way?"

"What do you think? Let's see."

"Good? Because come on, I loved it."

"Me too! Although I didn't like all the songs," she said with a wince as she ran her finger along the phone's curly cord.

"No? Really?!"

"Yes."

"Which ones didn't you like?"

"Fade to Black and The call of Ktulu or whatever the fuck it's called," she could hear a small chuckle on the other line.

"I don't think they're bad."

"No no, I'm not saying that, it's just that they're not my style, I need a lot more rhythm, apart from the fact that they're too long."

"Yeah, it's understandable. I do like them but they're not my favourites either."

"And which ones are?"

"I couldn't tell you, they're all very good..." he was thoughtful for a few seconds. "Maybe... My favourite is Creeping Death. The riff, the lyrics, James's voice... It's tremendous."

"I loved that one too! And For Whom the Bell Tolls. Ride the lighting too but not as much as those two. I need to listen to them on loop for hours, I swear, I loved them."

Who knew in that moment that that album would quickly become a gold album and that just over a year later they would hear them live with him on the other side of the country?

The next few days of the trip were pretty much the same as that day: driving for hours, changing drivers, putting on sun cream, stopping to eat and go to the toilet, calling her mother and his uncle, filling up with petrol, listening to their cassettes at full volume and singing loudly in the caravan, smoking tobacco, laughing, talking about silly things, taking pictures with the camera of _______, and taking showers and sleeping in motels.

It was Thursday night, and they were already in downtown Nevada, resting in the motel where they stayed that night. They were also in a room with only one bed, a double bed, but they didn't mind.

"I don't know if I'll be able to sleep tonight, I can't believe we'll be in Oakland by tomorrow. I could just keep driving right now," he said as they huddled together, and knowing him as well as she did, she knew it was true.

"Yeah, me too," she said, smiling as much as he was.

"I'm so glad you're my friend, I wouldn't be having this magical experience without you... I love you so much," he said smiling sweetly.

He really wanted to say so much more, he wanted to tell her how much he loved her, that she made him crazier than he already was, that he wanted to hold her tight and never let go, to kiss her and take care of her, but... He had to keep quiet. They had a precious friendship and if he confessed and she didn't reciprocate, which he assumed was most likely, it would probably make things very awkward between them and if he confessed during the trip, they wouldn't be able to run away from each other, having to share a car and rooms for days. It would be the worst-case scenario.

She assumed that he meant that he loved her very much as a person and as a friend, and nothing more. And he did mean that he loved her in those ways, but he also meant that he secretly loved her as a partner.

"I love you too," she said, smiling in the same way.

They stood for a few seconds looking into each other's eyes in silence, and for microseconds at times their eyes would wander to each other's lips.

Maybe it was the emotions running high, maybe it was the tiredness, maybe it was the night, maybe it was the hormones, maybe it was the way they were cuddled up in that marriage bed, maybe it was that she was sick of hiding her feelings, maybe it was that she was too brave when she liked someone, maybe it was Eddie's words and that she wanted to have even a little faith that she could have more than friendship with him, or maybe it was all of the above at once, but she decided to bring her face close to his, ridiculously slowly for fear of screwing up.

He noticed and almost had a heart attack. He didn't know what was going through his best friend's mind, he didn't know how she felt about him, but according to him, it looked like she was getting close to his face to kiss him, which if it was true, he had to take advantage of the opportunity, so he decided to do the same as her: get close to her face in a ridiculously slow way.

But then they were stopped by noises from the people in the next room, and they weren't just any noises; they were noises of bed springs and moaning, especially from a woman.

They both stopped dead in their tracks, frozen in their tracks, staring at each other with wide eyes and trying not to piss themselves laughing.

"This is ridiculous, I swear," she whispered as she moved slightly away from him and lay on her back, "I can't believe it," she said, pillowing her ears, to no listen the moans.

"Why are you whispering? You aren't the one who should be quiet. Do you want me to knock on the wall?" he asked as he raised his left arm and put his hand on the wall.

"No, let them have a good time," she said, her pillow no longer acting as a hoof against the noise. "Besides, if you hit the wall, you'll break her," she said as he lay on his back like her.

"We're not going to sleep tonight, but not for what we thought."

"It probably won't be long before they're done."

"They'd better."

And there they were, lying on their backs staring at the ceiling, taking in what had just happened, or rather what might have happened... if it hadn't been for the two shamelessly scandalous people who were fucking like rutting animals in the next room. They were uncomfortable in many ways, although they had to admit that the situation was funny at the same time.

The next evening they were in Oakland. They went to dinner and to stretch their legs a bit, seeing a bit of the city, and then to rest at the hotel where they would sleep.

"There are a lot of good looking guys around here," she said as they walked back to the hotel, noticing that there were a lot of metalheads around town, and she assumed that many of them might be like them: not from there, not living there, but had travelled there to attend the festival. "Something tells me they're here for the same reason we are."

He didn't say anything, he knew perfectly well that his best friend was crazy about long-haired men because she said so on several occasions, but still, he didn't think he had a chance with her even if he had long hair.

They still couldn't believe that they were already there and that the next day after lunch they would be at the stadium enjoying themselves like crazy.

The next morning they decided to take the car and go sightseeing in San Francisco, passing over the Bay Bridge of course. They were aware that with how big the city was and how little time they had before they had to be ready to go to the stadium in Oakland they wouldn't be able to see much, but they weren't there for sightseeing and seeing how different it was to Hawkins was enough for them.

The concert started at two in the afternoon.

She insisted that they had better be there as soon as possible to get parking in the stadium car park and to queue as soon as possible, so they drove back to their hotel in Oakland to get their tickets and then to the stadium. They were both wearing Metallica T-shirts.

Fortunately Eddie bought the tickets a few days after the event was announced, so they had tickets to be on the field and not in the stands, which was too boring and far away from the stage. As soon as the gates to the field opened, they and everyone else ran as if they were being chased with a chainsaw to get to the front row, in front of the stage.

"Do you see how I was right to come early?" she asked. They were almost in the front row.

"Yeah, yeah."

"I saw on TV once that this kind of thing happened at concerts in stadiums, at a Michael Jackson concert."

The first band to play was Victory, then Rising Force, then Metallica. At last the moment they had been waiting for the most, the moment they had travelled thousands of miles from their hometown on the other side of their big country had finally arrived.

_______ started screaming with excitement, jumping of joy and grabbing Eddie's arm, almost cutting off his circulation and digging her nails in when she heard The Ecstasy of Gold, a song by Ennio Morricone from the soundtrack for the film The Good, the Bad and the Ugly that they always played at the beginning of their concerts two years ago as they went on stage and prepared to play.

"Are you all right?" he asked, laughing.

"AAAAAAH!" she said, waving his arm.

"I agree," he laughed, "Ride on my back," he said, bending down.

"Oh," she thought the suggestion was a good idea, but she felt bad for him, because he would have to carry her weight for all or most of their performance and he wouldn't be able to enjoy doing headbangs, or pogos, or even raising his hands in the metalhead's signature horns symbol. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he said, "ride."

"Okay, thank you very much, really."

"You don't have to give them," he said as she mounted his back and grabbed it.

She had her favourite band member, Cliff Burton, practically a few feet away from her. She felt like if she reached out and lifted her arm she could touch him, even though he was actually about 20m away.

They started playing one of their favourite songs: Creeping Death.

She wasn't the only one going crazy with excitement and singing her lungs out for the song, there were many more people in the audience full of excitement to see the band playing live, and she was happy for them. They were a very good band, and it was one of the first times, if not the first, that they had played in a stadium in front of so many people.

"DIE! BY MY HAND, I CREEP ACROSS THE LAND, KILLING FIRST-BORN MAN! DIE! BY MY HAND, I CREEP ACROSS THE LAND, KILLING FIRST-BORN MAN, DIEEEEEE!"

Eddie looked up and saw her singing loudly with a smile from ear to ear that didn't fit on her face. He had never seen her so happy, and his smile grew bigger. Then he turned his attention back to the group in front of him.

"OH YEAH?" shouted James Hetsfield, the band's vocalist and rhythm guitarist, into the microphone, and then he tilted his head towards the audience and put his hand to his ear, as if trying to sharpen his hearing. He was clearly playing with the audience.

"OH YEAH!" they shouted, and many more.

"OH YEAH?" James shouted again, doing the same as before.

"OH YEAH!" they shouted again.

"FUCKING RIDE THE LIGHTIIIIING!" shouted James into the microphone, and he and the rest of the band started playing that song. "HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY! ARE YOU FUCKING OUT THERE?" he shouted raising his hand, encouraging the audience to be loud when they were already halfway through the song. "HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY!" he shouted in the same way almost at the end of the song, "I CAN'T FUCKING HEAR YOU!" he shouted as he put his hand to his ear. "HEY!"

Then he walked away from the microphone and stood next to Cliff. They were both doing headbangs and were perfectly in sync without even trying. Meanwhile, Kirk Hammett, the band's lead guitarist, on the other side of the stage was going more his own way.

When the song was over James walked over to the foot of the drum kit, where Lars Ulrich was standing, and picked up a small bottle of beer, probably fresh and alcoholic, and walked back to his microphone.

"ROCK AND ROOOOOLL!" shouted Eddie, and she laughed and shouted back.

"ARE YOU DOING ALL RIGHT?" asked James, and everyone shouted, "We've come here to kick some assess! [ . . . ] You know Cliff Burton over there?" He asked the crowd, pointing to his bandmate, the bass player. "Everyone, "Hey Cliff, how ya doing?"" he said waving his hand in greeting.

"HI CLIFF!" she and a few others shouted.

James stepped away from the microphone as he took a sip from the bottle of beer he had just picked up next to the drum kit, and Cliff began to play a bass solo while doing a light headbang, his head bent low and focused on the strings of his black bass while his hair moved incessantly, as did his fingers.

The best words to describe that bass solo were "Epic", "Legendary", "Magical", "Iconic", "Mind-blowing"... And it sounded like he was playing thunder instead of an instrument. ______'s eyes and mouth opened slightly without her noticing, and the hair on her body stood on end. Absolutely everyone was shocked, including Lars, who forgot to start playing the drums, and Cliff himself had to turn around and tell him he had to start playing. As soon as Lars started playing the drums, Cliff came back and played another epic bass solo.

She would recognise that rhythm anywhere, in any situation. It was For whom the bell tolls, and it was a song entirely written by Cliff. The smile on his face throughout the whole show, but especially during that song, was priceless. He kept doing headbangs, moving around the stage, gesticulating with his hands and singing to himself. You could tell he was excited to play that bass solo and his song in front of so many people enjoying it.

Then they started playing The Four Horsemen, a song from their first album, and it seemed that she wasn't the only one who was running out of voice, because she noticed James' voice faltering a bit.

The song was followed by Fade to Black, despite a boy in the audience shouting out Whiplash as a suggestion.

"Thank you! That was Fade to Black, from the album Ride the Lighting...! ...ARE WE GOING TO FUCK UP TODAY OR WHAT?" The crowd screamed in response, and he threw the pick at a person in the audience. "Good catch! ...WANT DESTRUCTION?" the audience shouted back in response. "By the way, this one goes... There's no other way, on the Kill 'em all album. We want to hear you scream! This song is called... SEEK & DESTROY!" The crowd screamed again for the third time, and more than the previous times. "I can't fucking hear you," said James pretending to be disappointed as the crowd sang the chorus. That was the song where the crowd was the loudest.

And last but not least, and finally for the fan in the audience who kept shouting it: Whiplash.

"THANK YOU SO MUCH!" said James as the song ended, "THANK YOU!

The crowd started screaming "Metallica!" non-stop, and seeing that they wanted more of them and that Y&T weren't ready to go on stage yet, they were allowed to play more songs. They chose to play half of Diamond Head's Am I Evil? and Motorbreath.

"Good day, whatever!" said James, waving goodbye to the audience. "Cheers! Thank you very much!"

As they left the stage, Eddie crouched down and she got off his shoulders.

"Well, we can go now," she said jokingly. "Thank you very much. I'll give you a massage later."

"Don't worry about it."

"That was amazing, my God!" she said as they walked out of the stadium after all the performances were over.

"I told you you had to come!" he said. "Thank goodness I convinced you into it."

"But can we talk about Metallica's performance? Oh my God, it's still not sinking in!"

"Cliff's bass solo in the intro of For whom the bell tolls made the hair on the back of my neck stand up," he confessed.

"Me too, man! And his smile throughout the whole song?! I love him, he's a genius and super adorable, I could tell he was living it up."

It took them a while to get out of the car parking and around the stadium as it was packed. Being from Hawkins, they had never seen so many cars together and so much traffic.

"Where do you want to go now?" he asked as he drove. It was still daylight, but it was late afternoon. "Are you hungry? Shall we go to dinner?"

"I'm not hungry yet, are you?"

"Neither am I."

"Not as hungry as the concert, but I can't wait to go to the beach and see the ocean. I'd like to see the sunset there."

"Then there we go."

They crossed back over the bay bridge and missed directions to the locals, peering out of the caravan windows. They were told that the best beach to enjoy the view, including the Golden Gate Bridge, was Baker Beach, so that's where they went.

They arrived at just the right time, at sunset. They took off their shoes and for the first time felt the sand under their feet and between their toes. The ocean breeze made their manes and their wide shirts move as the wind wanted them to, and for the first time they smelled the salty water. The eyes of _______ were fixed on the sun hiding behind the Pacific Ocean.

She decided to take her camera out of her bag and take a picture. Meanwhile, Eddie was looking at her. He thought she was prettier than the sunset. When she finished taking the picture, she put the camera back in her bag, put it on the ground and looked at the sunset again for a second, then looked at Eddie.

"This is the best day of my life," she said, teary-eyed but smiling.

"Hey hey hey," he said worriedly, "why are you crying?"

"I'm crying from happiness," she said as she smiled at her friend's concern and ran her fingers across her eyes to wipe away the tears, "it's a good thing."

Eddie put his arms around her and kissed her head repeatedly. She was too adorable, she could handle him. He loved her madly.

"It's the best day of my life, too," he said when they broke apart, and he placed one of his hands on her cheek, rubbing his thumb gently to wipe away the trace of the silent tear that had fallen down her face seconds before.

They both couldn't wait to tell the other that they loved each other, that they loved each other madly and not just as best friends, to kiss... But the fear of rejection and ruining the moment, the day, the trip and their friendship outweighed those desires.

"We haven't tasted water yet, how is that possible?" he said, grabbing her by the shoulders, trying to make her laugh and trying to distract himself from the impulse he had felt to confess and kiss her at that moment. "Come on!" he said, taking her by the hand and making her walk towards the shore, leaving her slippers, socks and bag behind.

"It's warm," she said, slightly surprised with her feet in the water.

"It must be because it's been in the sun all day. How about a swim? It's perfe-"

"Ugh, something touched my foot!" She said in disgust, lifting her foot and moving towards him.

"It's seaweed."

"I'm not taking a bath," she said, still disgusted.

"Because of the seaweed?" he asked, raising one of his eyebrows and smiling mockingly.

"It's too disgusting... For that I prefer swimming pools or bathtubs."

"It's just a plant, but a sea plant," he said, bending down and picking it up. He stretched out his arm to pull her closer but she pulled back as if he was holding a cockroach, and seeing how her body and face reacted, he couldn't help but laugh as he let go the plant. "Look, there's a very clean area over there," he said pointing with his head as he approached her, and while she was distracted for a second looking at the area he had pointed out to her, he bent down and grabbed her behind her knees and her waist, like a prince carrying his princess in a fairy tale that mothers told their daughters in bed before they went to sleep at night.

"What-" She didn't mind him grabbing her like that, in fact, she obviously liked it if it was him, but she stopped liking it when she saw Eddie start to go into the sea, into an area with too much seaweed for her liking. "Eddie, no! Don't even think about it!" and he laughed a wicked laugh, like when he saw his fellow Hellfire Club members in distress in a Dungeons and Dragons battle.

"Don't be a pussy!"

"Eddie I'm literally a pussy!" she said refering to her vagina.

"Not everything could be perfect this day, baby!"

"Eddie, if you drop me there, your uncle will never hear from you again! And I'm wearing clothes, not a bikini!"

"So what? The clothes are drying."

"Not in this air and it's getting dark, and I don't have a towel."

"Weeeell," he said, turning around while smiling and setting her down on the shore, on the sand.

They walked back to where they had left their things and she sat down on the sand. He decided to sit behind her, wrapping his legs and arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder.

"You're stupid," she said, annoyed but smiling at the same time.

"And you love me for it," he said, poking her lightly in the side with the tip of his index finger.

"Yes..." He sighed deeply, "very much, as you have no idea, much to my disgrace," she thought.

It was getting colder and colder, so they decided to go somewhere for dinner and then to the hotel to rest, trying to catch up on sleep while they were snuggled up to each other, as they were used to.

The next morning Eddie woke up with a horrible neck ache from doing so many headbangs and some back pain from holding _______ during Metallica's performance, so before leaving the hotel she lay on top of him on the bed and gave him the best neck, shoulder and back massage she could. She was smart and knowing how much her neck would hurt the next day and how fragile it was, she decided not to do headbangs.

Then they headed for Los Angeles and by lunchtime they were there, on Venice Beach with a few litres of alcoholic beer they had bought, and now they had their swimming costumes and towels on (and sunscreen, of course).

"We had rock and roll..." he said, referring to the festival, "we've had 'drugs', if we can consider them drugs...", he said, throwing his hands up in the air, one with a bottle of beer and a freshly lit cigarette in the other. She had forbidden him to bring weed for fear of being caught in a checkpoint. "The sex is the only thing missing."

"I don't feel like fucking any guy here," she said, "they all look like Barbie's boyfriend."

"And they all look like Barbies here," he said half-heartedly, to her surprise.

"But Barbies are pretty."

"Have you seen the sculptures of the ancient Romans? They're made of rock, they're quality and there are few of them. On the other hand, there are a lot of plastic ones, of poor quality and copies of each other. I prefer a woman made of rock."

"How do you know that, Shakespeare?" She asked with a mocking smile. "I thought you were bad at history."

"Yes, but not at art."

"Anyway, even if we wanted to fuck with someone here, I don't think they'd want to fuck with us."

"Speak for me, but not for you. You're beautiful."

"I'm not that much."

"Said the one who always has several guys behind her."

"But they're not Kens because I'm not a Barbie, I'm not popular."

"You are popular among the "weirdos" at school, and you know it, don't tell me you're not."

"Well, I didn't say I was ugly, I admit it, but..."

"You're beautiful. End of discussion."

"Well, all right, if you say so..." She looked away, holding her smile and blushing a little, "Thanks, I guess. You too," she looked back at him.

"Oh, you think I'm a pretty girl, too!" He said in a squeaky voice and put his hand to his chest, pretending to be surprised. "Thank you very much! Aren't you roasting? Shall we go in the water? Or are you still terrified of seaweed?"

"Mm..." Yes, actually yes, she was too disgusted by that.

"At least come and soak your feet, right?" he asked as he stubbed out his cigarette in the sand and got up.

"Well, okay," she said, doing the same as she made a bun with one of the hair ties around her wrists.

"The tide brings the seaweed to the shore," he said, pointing to it as the two of them stood there soaking their feet, "but look, it's all clear up ahead. You only have to go the first few yards. I can carry you and get you there without you touching any seaweed."

"Uh..."

The beach was full of people and she was embarrassed to be seen being carried, as if she didn't have the legs to walk and go into the water on her own. It would be more embarrassing if they found out how disgusting the seaweed made her feel, but it was not her fault that she found it disgusting, especially as an inland girl who could only swim in clean pools. But then she thought that she shouldn't give a shit what strangers thought of her and that she didn't want to miss the experience of swimming in the Pacific Ocean with her best friend after an epic and unforgettable trip, so she accepted the proposal.

"Well, okay," he thought he was going to carry her like he had carried her at the festival the day before, but he carried her like he had carried her on the beach in San Francisco, like a princess. That was a little more embarrassing than being carried like a little girl on hia back. "How are you not disgusted by stepping on them?" she asked, disgusted, referring to the seaweed as he began to walk deeper into the ocean.

"They're just plants," he laughed, "you act like they're cockroaches."

"But their touch is disgusting."

"I don't think it's that bad."

"Well, lucky you."

"You know there are people who eat them?"

"Good for them," she said indifferently, and he laughed again at her answer. "Oh, it's freezing!" she said, referring to the water when he was already deeper in, the water coming up to his waist, and she was wetting her butt.

"It's not that bad! Besides, what did you expect? Don't be a pussy!"

And when he finally reached the area without seaweed, he suddenly let her go, making her scream at such an abrupt change of temperature. She, annoyed, splashed him with her arm. He laughed.

"It would have been worse little by little, if you do it all at once it's less bad," yes, he was one of those who jumped in the pool, "or did you want me to baptise you?" He closed his eyes, shut his mouth, covered his nose with his hand and bent down, putting his head completely in the water. When he pulled it out, he shook her hair like a shampoo advert and splashed her a little.

They stayed on the beach most of the day, until it got dark and they went to the hotel where they would be staying that night.

On Monday morning, 2 September, they would start the journey home, back to Hawkins. It was a bit depressing, as they didn't want the trip to end, they had had too much fun, and on top of that they didn't feel like going back to school, especially as they had to repeat their last year.

It was the second time that Eddie had repeated his last year and the whole group of friends from ______ had graduated and left town, but at least they would be in the same class together.

The last night they spent together they were sad for that very reason, because it was going to be the last night they would sleep together. And the last morning they spent together Eddie woke up before she did, so knowing how little his best friend wanted to go back and start her last term again, he decided to wake her up by tickling her, making her squirm in bed, crying with laughter and screaming for him to stop.

They returned to Hawkins on Saturday evening. Eddie helped get their luggage out of his van and into their house, and her mother offered to stay for dinner with them, so she could listen to the stories of the trip told by the two of them. Knowing that his uncle would not be home when he arrived because of his work schedule, and knowing that his best friend's mother's food was better than anything edible in his house, he gladly accepted the invitation.

"The beaches were amazing. The one I liked best was the one in San Francisco, because of the view of the Golden Gate," she told her mother when the three of them were at the dinner table.

"But she was afraid to go in the water because she was disgusted by the seaweed," said Eddie, "and the next day in Los Angeles I had to carry her like a Disney princess to get her into the water without being brushed by any of the seaweed."

"I wasn't afraid, you exaggerator!" she said in her defence, "just disgusted."

And then it was time to say goodbye. They both felt it would be a long time before they would see each other again, but in reality they would see each other in two days, on Monday morning at the school.

"I had a great time," she said in front of him, holding his hands, looking at him and smiling wistfully beside his van, parked in front of her house, "thank you for convincing me to come, thank you for everything."

"Thank you for coming," he said, looking at her and smiling in the same way, squeezing her hands and then letting go to give her a long, tight hug. "I'll see you Monday at school, okay?" he said as they parted.

"Unfortunately," she didn't even have a spark of desire to go back there, who would? Only popular people or people who find it easy to study or the poor bastards whose validation depends on having high numbers on papers after spewing out useless data for everyday life. "Goodbye," she said as she began to walk backwards, waving her hand as a final goodbye, and then she turned around. He stood there, watching her walk away from him and through the door of her house, making the last direct eye contact with her eyes quickly before she closed the door behind her.

As much as she was looking forward to seeing her mother and being in the comfort of her home, and especially in the comfort of her room and bed, she felt that she had missed something of utmost importance along the way, that she was missing something important: it was him, and the post-concert, post-trip depression. The same thing happened to him, and on top of that his uncle wasn't at home to greet him when he arrived from dropping off ______ at her house, but he knew that was a likely thing. He would see him on Sunday at noon, as he had a night shift, and in the morning he slept.

Their beds were supposed to be their greatest source of comfort, especially after almost two weeks of travelling around the country, from motel to hotel and back again. So why couldn't they sleep? They were not stupid, they were aware of their feelings, but they didn't think it would affect them so much. They missed each other, they wanted each other to be there beside them, lying down and cuddling. He tried to hug his pillow but it wasn't the same. She wanted to hug a crappy stuffed animal he gave her off the arcade hook a year ago but it was too small to be cuddled.

Eddie could have perfectly well drugged himself to calm down and fall asleep as soon as possible, but instead he decided to do something even more stupid: get out of bed, leave the house, get in the van and drive to his best friend's house. Hopefully she was still awake, hopefully they could sleep together that night, hopefully he wouldn't make a fool of himself in front of her for having such a need like a little kid.

"Shit," he thought as he got out of the van, which he had parked in front of the house. He didn't see any light inside, everything indicated that mother and daughter had already gone to bed in their respective rooms.

But then he thought that just because she was in bed didn't mean she was already asleep. She decided to go to the side of the house and stand under her bedroom window. He bent down to the floor in search of pebbles to throw at the window to get her attention in a quiet way, without waking her mother or her neighbours.

He threw a pebble at her window, calculating his aim with his mind and throwing it hard enough so that it would reach the window but not break the glass even a little bit. It didn't rattle against the glass because there was no glass, the window was open because of the heat, but he thought that wasn't a problem, and maybe it was more effective for the pebble to go inside her room.

As it happened, the pebble ended up inside her room, bouncing on the floor, making noise, but he didn't know that for sure, he didn't know if that had woken her up if she was sleeping or if it had caught her attention enough to make her get out of bed and look out the window to see what was going on, so he decided to throw another pebble, and just as he was about to throw it, she looked out of the window.

"Eddie?" she asked in a whisper, surprised and confused. "What is it? What are you doing here?" He dropped the pebbles and took a few steps forward. It was the moment he was waiting for, what he had planned and wanted was happening, but he opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out of him. He didn't know what to say, because there was really a lot he wanted to express. "Do you want me to come down?" she asked, and he nodded his head quickly, but it was dark and she couldn't see it very well, so she decided to ask. "Yes?"

"Yes," he answered, "please."

"I'll be right there, wait a second," she said, who had to put on a pair of trousers because she was in her panties, go downstairs and get her keys.

"No hurry," he said as he moved away from the window. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. The longer it took her to come down, the more time he would have to calm down. He was restless, more than usual. He never used to get this nervous before playing in front of people from the school.

He heard the door of the house open and close and she approached him with the keys in the pocket of the shorts she had just put on. Crickets could also be heard not far away, and the leaves of the trees rustling in the thin breeze.

"What's the matter?" She said, approaching him with concern. "Has something happened?"

"No, no, it's all right," she saw how nervous and uneasy he was and knew he was lying, but she took his hands to calm him in every way. He gladly agreed, and he did calm down somewhat.

"So?" she asked, even more puzzled.

"Well... You see... I know it's stupid, but... Well, you know me, don't you? I'm like that, I can't help it..." There was a brief silence in which he didn't know what to say, or rather how to say it, trying to find the words in his mind while she looked at him and waited for whatever he was going to say. She didn't really know what to expect from him, and the situation was strange. "I couldn't sleep and I think it's because I'm missing you by my side," he laughed nervously again. She smiled and tightened her grip.

"The same thing was happening to me."

"Really?" he asked in surprise.

"Really."

"So...? Are we sleeping together tonight?"

"Please and thank you. At your place?"

"Okay."

"I'll come in for a moment to write a note to my mother for when she wakes up tomorrow and doesn't see me at home," he said, holding up her hand, pointing to her house with her thumb behind it, "okay?"

"Sure."

After what she said and did, they rode in his van to Eddie's house in absolute silence, no music, no talking. They didn't need to, and they didn't have anything to talk about since they hadn't seen each other for only two hours. The silence was not uncomfortable, they wore smiles on their lips and their hair swayed in the breeze coming through the lowered windows.

"If your uncle sees me and finds out that we slept in the same bed, he'll think badly," she said as she climbed into his bed and snuggled against him.

"Let him think what he wants, I don't care," he said as she settled her head on his arm, "he'd be happy and everything. Your mother is not the only one who matches us," which was true. Some people in town, especially in high school, just assumed the two of them were a couple.

"Yeah."

He started stroking her head, or rather her hair, with the hand on the arm she was using as a pillow. The other was on her back. They were pressed against each other. He had his neck in front of her face, and his tattooed chest exposed. They both felt at last at peace, completely calm and ready to sleep if they wanted to, but they didn't want to, they wanted to enjoy this moment of being conscious.

"You could have fallen asleep smoking weed but you didn't, why?"

"You're my favourite drug," he dared to say. The night made everyone feel vulnerable and sensitive, and he was no exception. Maybe he shouldn't listen to the things that went through his mind at night, but there were times when he couldn't help it, and that was one of those times.

That phrase and him going to her home to tell hee that he needed to sleep with her definitely had to mean something, something good and important, but she couldn't assume that either if it didn't come out of his mouth in a more explicit way. She didn't want to get her hopes up, make an Oscar-worthy movie in her head, and then get the shock and the downer.

Luckily for her, Eddie spoke without her asking any questions.

"There's something else I wanted to tell you..."

"What's that?"

"The problem is... I'm afraid to tell you."

"Whatever it is, you can tell me, Eddie. I love you madly and I'm going to be there for you no matter what."

"I don't know how to express it either..."

"So, if you can't put it into words.... Express it with an action," she said, believing where he was going.

Emboldened by his best friend's words and the late hours of the night, he decided to move the hand on her back to her cheek. With his thumb he brushed her lips to find out exactly where they were, for they were in their room in complete darkness, unable to see each other even if they were inches away from each other. Then he raised her head slightly and bowed his head, and at last did what he had wanted to do for more than half a year: he kissed her, confessing at last his deep feelings for her. She quickly returned the kiss, while a big smile formed on her lips.

"So... Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

"Yes, for a long time," he said, leaning his forehead against hers.

"How long?"

"More than half a year ago."

"Well, it seems we're in sync even for that."

"Do you feel the same way I do?" He asked, surprised and confused but happy at the same time.

"How do you feel about me Eddie? Please tell me, I want to hear it come out of your mouth," she said, now she was caressing his cheek.

"I love you. You are my Arwen to my Aragorn. When I hear love songs I can't help but think of you. You make me so happy just to be by my side. You are beautiful in every way and I have so much fun with you. You are not only my best friend and the person I love the most after my uncle, you are the woman of my dreams and I think you are my soul mate" with every sentence he said she got more emotional and it was hard for her to hold back the urge to cry with happiness, while he was still not processing that he had just kissed her, that his kiss had been reciprocated and that he was finally telling her out loud what he'd been keeping quiet and so deep inside for so long, "and I can't wait to fucking graduate so I can start working a full time job and save up to get married and live on our own and together in our own house, our own home. ...Although any place is a home if you're there," he suddenly heard a sob and felt a drop fall on his arm, the one that was being her pillow. "_______?" he asked frightened with fear that he had completely screwed up.

"I love you so much," she said crying out of pure happiness, her heart couldn't fit in her chest from all the happiness she was feeling, "you have no idea how happy you make me right now."

"So you're crying from happiness again?"

"I couldn't cry for anything else," and now it was she who jumped up and kissed him. Then he hugged her tightly.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

"You didn't even have to ask."

"I wanted to ask you, I've wanted that for a long time and to hear a yes for an answer from you," she smiled even more, almost laughing at what he had just said.

"Yes, silly, I do."

"Now I'm completely yours, more yours than ever, more than I've ever been."

"I'll say the same."

They kissed again, and then he moved his free hand to her pillowy arm, and took off one of the three rings he wore. He took off the skull-shaped one and handed it to her, leaving it on her hand. She could tell which ring it was by touch.

"I want you to have it from now on, as a token of my love and our relationship."

"Thank you," she said, putting it on her thumb, as it was too big on the rest of her fingers.

Little else happened after that, just a few more kisses, caresses and the occasional playful touch but nothing more. They were exhausted from the journey and finally felt at peace, ready to sleep now that they were together physically and romantically.

[fbfh]

Could I request a drabble with Dave Lizewski and his best friend who has a major crush on Kick Ass and tells Dave all the dirty details?

OOOOOH SCRUMDIDDLYUMPTIOUS. aged up to 18+ obvs, give me a hoot or holler in the notes or my ask box if you want a fluffier version lol

Dave always wondered why girls never noticed him. he figured it was cause he's a quiet geeky nerd who likes comic books and superheroes. nope. it's because of you. when you first met Dave - however old you were, freshman, middle schoolers, kindergarteners - you latched the fuck onto this boy so fast. you've always been protective over him, always had that vibe that says you fuck with him, I'll fuck you up. besides, having a best friend as hot as you immediately made everyone assume he's totally off the market. like, it should be obvious. being "best friends" with someone as hot as you, spending all your time together - you have sleepovers for god's sake. EVERYONE at school fully believes you're fucking. the only ones unaware of this are Dave and Todd and Marty and possibly yourself.

it's at one of these infamous sleepovers that you finally spilled the beans. you've been obsessing over kickass for weeks, constantly talking about him and his exploits to Dave. you just got your hands on another grainy, horribly low quality picture of kickass stopping a purse snatching from someone's video doorbell. you're sitting at Dave's desk while he's flopped on his bed, finishing some homework.

"fuck I want him in my mouth so fucking bad..."

it just slips out, but Dave is instantly hard. he startles, sputtering and desperate to know who his best friend is practically moaning for.

"y-you want who?!" he demands in confusion at your sudden outburst, causing both of you to laugh. you turn the monitor towards him, and Dave sees himself looking back. his stomach does the thing, that flippy jerky oh shit thing from both anxiety and horniness. he is really, really hard now.

"k-kickass?" he asks, his voice getting all whiny and cracking in that way you've always found so cute.

"yes!" you exclaim with a laugh, looking at him incredulously. "come on Dave, you told me about a sex dream you had about our math teacher two days ago. he groans half heartedly at you bringing up.

"I already regret telling you about that." he protests playfully, his voice muffled into his duvet.

"just look at him," you sigh, already looking at the pictures of kickass. "look at his arms... I'd probably cum just from him putting me in a headlock."

Dave nearly chokes on his spit. He's really glad he's laying on his stomach so you can't see the way he's kind of rubbing against his mattress. it's not on purpose or anything, it's not like he's trying to get off to his best friend (even though he has before. like a lot. like he has to clear his porn search history because it's all descriptors of people who look like you) but when you're going on and on about how wet you'd get from being choked by a guy without realizing he's actually inches away from you... well, what is he supposed to do??

"christ, you can see his whole bulge in this one," you murmur, biting you lip. "I have never wanted to suck someone off so bad."

Dave lets out a choked noise, which you interpret as more playful disgust over your thirsting.

"I'm serious!" you exclaim. "I swear to god, he could keep me barefoot and pregnant and I'd thank him."

Dave's hips have started moving faster on their own as he grinds against his mattress. he knows he shouldn't prod for more details of what you'd do to kickass - to him - he knows you're his best friend and that you'd probably think he was some sick freak if you knew the truth, that he's kickass and he's getting off to you listening to you talk about him like that. Dave loves you, he respects you and admires you and cherishes your friendship so much, so why is feeling guilty and conflicted about about listening to you unintentionally dirty talk like this making it feel so good??

"literally, I would make sure his balls were always empty. like, always." you state.

each word that tumbles out of your mouth makes his blood burn with lust.

"U-uh huh," he chokes out, fighting for his LIFE not to moan in front of you right now.

"just one chance," you sigh, "I just know he's majorly packing. Bet he cums a lot too." you murmur.

you're pouting now. pouting over not being able to taste his cock. the same cock Dave is trying to discreetly jerk off just a few feet away from you. he whines softly, praying you won't notice as you continue to look through photos of him as kickass.

"I don't think I've ever been so down for someone," you whine, throwing your head back and sighing. "okay, you can't tell anyone about this-"

you start seriously.

"but I literally got off thinking about him last night, and I came so hard-"

and if that's not the straw that breaks the camel's back. Dave lets out a strangled, stifled whining moan as his hips rut and stutter against his mattress. his head swims as he cums in his pants, blinded by a raw, pure pleasure.

"O-oh god!" he pants, head spinning as he comes down from his high. his cheeks are flushed, and he can't fucking believe he just did that in front of you. he swallows thickly, terrified - and for some reason, a little thrilled by how you'll react.

you look over at him, eyes locked on him for a moment. it only takes you a second to realize what just happened - your horndog best friend got so turned on from listening to you thirst over kickass that he actually creamed his pants.

"You're so gross," you laugh playfully, throwing a pen at him. "I hope you know how lucky you are that I'm great at keeping secrets." you finish, an unspoken promise that tonight will stay between the two of you.

you turn back to what you're doing, unperturbed by the fact that your best friend just came in his pants from hearing you talk like that, chalking it up to Dave being Dave. this isn't the first time he's gotten hard at an awkward time, but usually he just sneaks off to the bathroom or something to take care of it himself. you had a hunch he might resort to something like this eventually, so you're not too surprised.

"Anyway, what do you think his type is?" you ask, swiveling around Dave's desk chair to look at him. your arms are crossed on the back of the chair, and you lean down on them as you look at him.

"Like, from an objective, guy perspective?"

"U-uh," Dave starts with a soft, nervous laugh, still unable to believe that just happened. "I- I don't know..." he shrugs.

he thinks that's the first time he's lied to you. he knows exactly what kickass's type is, because he's looking right at you.

[prettypinkporkchop]

Can you do a Plus!Size!Reader x Paul Lahote?

I’m thinking, reader who is Bella’s sister, has been friends with Jacob for years (stayed with Charlie) and she’s always had this massive crush on Paul. Since she is insecure about her weight/ looks, she always avoided Paul at all costs, embarrassing herself too.

One day, she gets dragged by Bella when Bella is mad Jacob. This is where Bella slaps Paul across the face. The reader stays in the truck but when this happens, she gets out of the truck to stop Bella. Paul phases which scares Bella and Reader but he then imprints on reader.

For a while their relationship is just friends (per readers request) until Paul kinda snaps in frustration because he wants to be more and he knows reader wants it too. Lots of fluff and reassurance that the reader is worthy enough for Paul.

Thank you so much, your writing is just amazing and I think you would write this really well ❤️

You're More Than Your Body

A/n: my thick queens!!! I know for a fact that Paul would be obsessed with them thighs! Oh lawd I can see it already!!! BTW I FREAKING LOVE THIS STORY I AM SO BOOSTING MY EGO BC I DID SO GOOD IN THIS! PLZ, I LOVE IT!

Warning: bad language

Paul. Paul. Paul. Nobody runs through your head like Paul. Even now that you're graduated and so is he, you see him around town. Especially since you and Bella are close with Jacob.

You stare in the body mirror in your bedroom, grabbing your stomach in hopes it'll disappear. It would make this outfit look so much better... your heart pounds as tears want to explode from your eyes. The pain of being the "funny fat friend" and always being the butt end of the joke your whole life has really been weighing on you. Even now, as an adult and being stuck on a guy since school.

"I need you to come with me. This is serious." Bella barges in your room.

"Oh, so the sad girl speaks to me now?" You glare at her.

"Look, I'm sorry for ignoring you and charl-.. dad, it's just been.." She stops knowing that you know what she means.

"Edward. Yeah." You roll your eyes and then smile at her. "Okay, what you got?" You ask.

"Jake has been away. They're saying he's sick. I have to see him." She says.

"He's probably tired of you stringing him along." You reply.

She shakes her head and then walks over to you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you down the stairs.

"Uh! Hey! Stop!" You yell.

"I don't want to go alone." She looks at you, still holding your wrist.

"Fine." You sigh.

You both get in her raggedy truck. She speeds up to Billy's house. The car ride was mostly her panicking, and you telling her to slow the Frick down. But, she pulls in with both of you alive. She gets out of the truck and enters past Billy. He sees you sitting in the truck, and you awkwardly wave.

The sound of whistles is heard toward the trees next to the house. You look over and see Jared, Paul, Sam, and Embry. Your heart races as your eyes fixate on Paul. They don't see you. It seems like they're calling for Jacob.

Bella barges out and goes over to them. Your mind blanks out with what is happening. You notice they're yelling and Paul is getting angry. You decide to be the protective older sister and run out of the truck.

"Bella!" You yell and make your way over there. As you get closer, she slaps him. "BELLA WHAT THE HELL?!" You grab her arm.

Paul is snarling. His body seems to get bigger. Next thing you know, he's a wolf. A silver wolf growling at Bella. She falls on the ground, and you stare at the monster. He looks at you and stops snarling. He whimpers.

"BELLA!" Jacob runs out and turns into a wolf, too.

This caught Paul's attention, and they began to fight, wrestling into the woods. You're breathing heavy in fear, but look down at Bella. She's confused and looking at Sam.

"Hey, bring these girls to Emily's place." Sam orders.

"Guess the wolf's out of the bag." Embry mumbles.

That's when you learn everything. Emily and Bella go on a tangent about it all. Embry is cracking jokes, and Jared is kicking him under the table for spilling too much to a 'leech lover'.

Paul walks inside and sits on the chair beside you. He turns back to Bella. "Sorry." He smirks and eats the muffins that are placed on the table. His eyes roam up and meet yours.

You pause. Is he really looking at you?

He sets the muffin down before rubbing his hands on his shorts. He extends a hand and smiles at you. "Paul." He says.

"Yeah, I know." You smile and shakily let your hand reach his. You feel warmth fill up your body. You know your cheeks are burning red.

His smile fades, and he lets go of your hand. "You know me?" He asks, as if he's guilty for not knowing you.

"Yeah. School. We graduated the same year and... you were quite popular with the girls." You snort.

He gulps and looks down. "Yes. Yes, I was." He seems so guilty. But his face turns back to you with a smile. "What's your name?" He asks.

You go to speak but Embry interrupts. "That's y/n. Leech lover's sister." He laughs.

Paul glares at him. "I'd like for her to answer that herself."

Embry lifts his hands up in defense. "Aight, chief. Or should I say.... imprinter..." He snorts.

Jared hits the back of his head. "Bro! That's Paul's story to tell!" He yells.

Sam enters and glares at Embry. "Stop it." He turns to Paul and smiles. "Welcome to the club." He takes Emily by the waist and kisses her.

"What's an imprinter? I'm confused.." You smile and look around awkwardly.

---

"Friends?" You smile at him.

He stares out at the beach, the waves crashing, and the wind blowing. "Yes. I'm sorry for not noticing you. I'm sorry for everything." He turns to face you. "Friends." He smiles.

You sigh of relief and look out at the water. You want more but you're too big for him in your mind. You accepted the bond, but maybe friends will do. At least you'll be around him, and it won't be so bad.

"C'mon. Let's go get food." He stands up and takes out a hand for you.

Yes. You've barely eaten today, and it's four pm. You take his hand, and he helps you stand up. When you're on your feet, he grabs your waist to steady you. That touch has you SPINNING.

"Where do you want to go?" He asks.

"Hm, I'm totally feeling burgers." You giggle.

"Oh, fuck yeah! My kind of girl!" He yells and takes your hand, kissing your knuckles.

He leads you to his truck and takes you to a small diner. It's actually the one you, dad, and Bella used to go to growing up. Now that she's back, the trips here have been more frequent.

He opens your door and helps you out by holding your waist. He seems to love grabbing you there. Honestly, you don't mind, but at the same time, them love handles are ugly to you. He leads you inside and you both get a seat and order.

Paul looks over your face.

You awkwardly look around and smile while blushing. "What?" You ask.

"Nothing." He chuckles and sips his Dr. Pepper. "What's it like being Bella's sister?" He asks.

"Nothing but drama. But I love her. She's very giving to family." You smile.

He nods. "I don't have anyone but my asshole father. I don't live with him, thank God." He rolls his eyes.

Your heart aches for him. You can't imagine not having anyone. "I'm so sorry." You reach out and touch his hand.

His eyes dart toward your contact, and he smiles. "Nah, it's no big deal. I have my boys."

"I guess that makes things better." You smile and let his hand go.

The waitress places your guys' food down, and you both enjoy the night getting to know each other.

It's dark out now, and you're in his truck watching the roads as he brings you home. You're startled when you feel a hand on your thigh. You look down and see his fingers on your flesh. His thumb is rubbing your skin. You look over at his face. He's just watching the road.

---

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Paul is at your window. You know it's him because he HAS to show up every night after patrol. You get up from the bed and open your window. He climbs up and closes it behind him. He hovers over you with a smile.

"Hey." He whispers, pushing hair behind your ear.

"Hey." You blush and soak in the warmth of his body heat.

He slowly leans in, looking in your eyes and then to your lips. No. No. You're too ugly. He's just into you because of the bond. Shit! You don't want to be used. You back away and awkwardly laugh. He gets the message and looks at you.

"Wanna see what I've been watching?" You plop on your bed and pull out your phone.

He smiles and lays beside you.

You show him the YouTube videos you've been addicted to until you fall asleep.

---

You're eating the brownies that Emily made while sitting at the bonfire. Everyone is talking and you're stuck in a debate with Sam.

"No! You're wrong!" He smiles, pointing at you.

You laugh and put your plate on the ground to get focused. "Sam, listen! I'm telling you, the grass is wet in the morning because of the dew!" You yell.

"It's because of the rain!" He yells back.

"Aren't you out all night? On the nights it doesn't rain, why is the grass wet then?!" You're laughing so hard.

Paul, from beside you, gently touches your knee. "He thinks he's always right. You won't win." He laughs in your ear.

"Love birds." Jared smirks.

You look at him. "No, we're just friends." You smile.

"Still?!" Jared asks, shocked. "Damn, Paul! You're taking your time." He laughs.

"Dude.." Paul shakes his head in annoyance.

After the bonfire, Paul brings you to his house. You're super freaking tired, and you fall on one couch in exhaustion. Paul puts a blanket over you and sits on the other couch that's next to your head. The couches are in an 'L' shape. He sits there while you fall asleep. Your arm falls out, and he looks down at your hand. He slowly takes it, holding onto it while you sleep.

---

You wake up and feel a body underneath you. You look down to see that you're on a snoring Paul's chest. You look around and see that you're in his living room. You panic and sit up, going onto the other couch. Your movements wake him up.

"You alright?" He asks in a tired and low voice.

"I.. don't remember falling asleep." You awkwardly giggle.

"You were shivering, so I joined you." He yawns and sits up. "Was that alright?" He asks worriedly.

"Yeah.. yeah, that's okay. Thank you." You smile.

He smiles back and checks his phone. "What you want for breakfast?"

"How about I make something here? If you have anything." You stand up and walk to his kitchen.

"Yeah, I've got stuff. You sure you want to cook? I can do it." He stands up and leans on his fridge, watching you.

"Yeah, no! I've got it." You smile.

He smirks and walks up to you, grabbing your waist. "You're beautiful." He whispers.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You look up in his eyes. "Friends.." You whisper.

He sighs and lets you go. "You know, I can't with you. You hold back so much and you won't let me in." He says in frustration.

You put the stuff on the counter and look at him with worry.

"I want you and I know.. I KNOW you want me, too. Why can't I have you?!" He smiles but is still aggravated.

You gulp and cross your arms. "I'm not good enough for you. All through school, you wanted the skinny girls. You only want me because you imprinted on me." You say quietly.

He starts laughing with anger. "Are you serious?!"

Tears threaten to escape your eyes. He notices and frowns. He pulls you into him and rubs your back. "Nobody will ever compare to you. You're more than your body. And if I didn't imprint on you, I would still think you're fucking hot." He says. "Let me prove it." He pulls away and looks at you.

You smile, hopeful, and touch his cheek. "You mean that?" You ask.

He grabs your waist and picks you up effortlessly. He tosses you on the couch while you giggle. He hovers over you and touches your stomach. "I love this." He smiles. His hand lowers to your outer thigh, and he squeezes. "I love this." He continues to squeeze your thigh. "Oh, the way these will be my pillows." He chuckles. "I love..."His hand moves lower, "may I?" He wants to touch your ass. You nod, and he happily grabs your ass. "Jesus, I love this." He bites his lip and looks over your face. "Most importantly," his hand touches your chest where your heart is rapidly beating, "I love this." He says. "You're absolutely stunning." His eyes scan your features. "I'd show you off to the universe."

You're smiling, blushing, shedding tears, and lowkey screaming inside. Your heart is swollen with love and affection. You never want this to end. Now, you understand, you are perfect for him. You grab the back of his neck and pull him down to your lips.

His lips meet yours, and the kiss is gentle and loving. Your lips move perfectly, and he finally pulls away. "What an amazing kisser." He smirks. "Mine, now?" He asks.

You laugh and nod your head wiping away your tears. "Yes, Paul. I'm yours, now."

[niyafics]

ᯓᡣ𐭩better every time˖ ݁𖥔

paige x reader (18+)

𐙚 part 1🐈‍⬛

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ wc : 2.5k

𖥔 ݁˖ cw : SMUT, first person p.o.v, petplay ahhh, the word sl*t, swearing, all that great stuff

˖ ݁𖥔 summary : a package arrives from paige, what could it be?

˖ ݁ a/n : hii srry if this sucks i haven’t written smut in years. not rlly edited.

p.b

did you get my gift,kitten?

me

yes, but i haven’t opened it

this kitten thing is just forever now huh :/

p.b

lol open the box and you tell me

We hadn’t seen each other in a week now, and even our last time was brief. Practice, games, school preoccupied all Paiges’ time, and I was getting swamped with work and my demanding minimum wage job. Still managing to slip a suggestive message or picture in between.

We had responsibilities. It was best for it to stay that way. For me to stay busy. That time apart would help me ground myself from getting completely enthralled in the tall girls icey eyes.

I felt embarrassingly moody last month when we didn’t meet up for a week opposed to our normal 2-4 times throughout it. Which in truthfulness, was too often. A few times us not having the sex our relationship was supposed to be exclusive to.

Like when she invited me over her place to watch the worst movies we could find on Netflix, intertwined lazily on her couch until I had to go to work.

Staring sleepily at the ceiling in the dark talking to each other about anything. Everything. Until one of our tired states doesn’t let us respond anymore.

Or when she’d pleaded to come over after a long practice, showering and plopping into my bed like it was hers. I had been the big spoon, combing my hands through her hair that was still damp, until she fell asleep. This one happened more than once.

I sat up on my elbow and watched her breathe slowly, my arm wrapped around her waist from behind, thinking how she was so effortlessly cute, and sexy.How she smelled good. How she blurted out my name without me giving it to her, our first night together.

I still haven’t gathered the courage to ask how she knew it.

“God, (y/n), you’re even prettier up close...”

It rolled out like she moaned it a million times.

By now, she probably has.

I wondered, if our meeting was such a coincidence after all.

My theory made me feel full of myself. How could have Paige known me? No mutual friends, and mine sure as hell wouldn’t have forgotten to tell me Paige Bueckers asked about me. We had no classes. Paige was a year ahead of me. Sure, I seen her on campus. She never seen me. Had she? I’d have to ask if I wanted to know.

Regardless of why we saw each other, we were getting dangerously closer than usual fuck-buddies. Pushing past the boundaries of friends with benefits. The special time together, the vulnerability.

Especially now, with her sending me stuff. First, it was [your fav flower] which I offhandedly mentioned I liked. We hadn’t talked in days and then, there was a delivery guy holding them in a vase of my favorite color outside my door.

She was thinking of me. couldn’t she just text it? No, this was way more sentimental than a text. It was meant to leave me thinking about her even more than I was. To show me she was thinking of me. It wasn’t just store bought, she had to have gotten it from a florist.

I almost knocked her over the next time i saw her, saying it was the sweetest thing anyone had done for me, because it was. Paige held me while I gushed, swaying me slightly, with a smirk that read I successfully stroked her ego.

“A good way to say ‘thank you’ is for you to let me between those pretty thighs, kitty.” A chuckle escaped as she said it, though she was serious, she lets me know this with a firm grip behind me. That damn nickname. Whenever I wasn’t completely under her spell, I felt almost embarrassed hearing her say it. Responding to it. Then wasn’t one of those times. I was on my back with her perfect mouth wet from me in minutes.

p.b

omg y/n

p.b

open it alreadyyy

My phone snapped me out of my thoughts. I shuffled to my kitchen counter to open the package waiting for me. I took a picture of me from above so the box was also in frame. Smiling to myself before I hit send, knowing the sight of me in her hoodie with nothing but panties she couldn’t see underneath would drive her crazy.

me

[image]

patienceee, i’m about to rn

p.b

[hearted an attachment]

oh yea? i’ll teach u alllll abt patience ;p

Blush crept to my cheeks with a grin I couldn’t help, while I wondered what she meant.

I tore the tape down the middle and the box opened slightly on its own before I peeled both tabs back all the way. My mouth slowly falling and flustered giggles erupting from me.

It was a pink collar with a silver bell hanging from it. Next to it was a shiny chain leash, with a handle to match waiting to be attached.

me

ohmygoodness

p.b

:) yeahhhh???

p.b

you like it or you luv it ??

me

you’re insane

p.b

insanely attracted to you. yes.

p.b

now be a goodgirl & put the collar on, i’ll be there to hook the leash to it later <3

She was coming tonight? I felt nervous as if I hadn’t been on my knees for her a few nights ago, congratulating her on a win. I looked closely at what I was getting myself into.

That tingling feeling came while I went lifted it near my neck.

This girl was awakening things in me.

I’m up to the door in seconds when I hear a knock against it. It’s in a goofy rhythm, so I know exactly who it is. My hands go to fix my hair even though whatever condition it’s in is going to be gone in a minute anyway. I open it a little, then step away, and Paige happily invites herself the rest of the way in.

“My kitty.” Her pink lips give me a smile that’s so warm I feel it. That could be something else. She’s in sweatpants, air forces that always seemed to look new, and another graphic hoodie I’m eager to collect. I’m in the skimpiest nightgown I could find, with the collar snug around my neck.

She opens her arms beckoning me to hug her, it’s tight and I melt in, getting a whiff of her shampoo, her laundry detergent. Paige pulls me back and runs her hands to my butt while she takes my appearance in.

I know she’s pleased from the way she licks her top lip slightly, while her slim fingers slip underneath the fabric that stopped at the beginning of my thighs.

“Look at you, such an obedient sweetheart for me, aren’t you, mamas?” Her voice hums in my ear. “So gorgeous. I knew it’d be perfect on you.” I’m pulled into a deep kiss that makes a thick smack when we pull away, I can’t help but whimper. She goes at the crook of my neck, which is her favorite place when we see each other. Well, one of them.

Paige leaves hickies on me that I stopped bothering to cover up since the second time she proved she couldn’t help herself. I remember her telling me how it turns her on knowing I walked around with her love bites all over me. The way she knows my friends will ask, and I’ll just blush in response.

Pulling away like it pains her to, she admires her work. Her muscular body pressed against me still.

“Missed you so bad..” She says in an innocent tone, flicking the bell on my neck and mouth curling into a mischievous expression when it rings back in response. “Where’s the leash, hm?”

“Bedroom.” I tilt my head towards its direction. Blood starting to rush thinking of which scenario in my head was about to happen next. I knew she’d surprise me anyway. She grabs my hand and gently guides me there, and I follow, unapologetically looking at her with needy eyes.

As soon as we walk in it’s like a switch flips in Paige. Pushing me onto the bed, her lashes low, and her ponytail falling over her shoulder as she stares down at me, eyes full of lust, and ideas. Both her hands hold my face then they move down my neck to my shoulders, so she can push the straps to the gown away. Her mouth is on mine again as she slides it down, beyond ready to feel what’s underneath.

Traveling down my neck again with her lips that seem to get softer every-time I feel them, but this time she stops and pays special attention to my nipples that are already hard from her touch and the air. When she’s not sucking, running her tongue over, and slightly biting one she’s fondling the other gently. Moaning even as she’s doing that, which is making deep inside me stir knowing she’s just as wet as I am right now. I can’t take the teasing anymore. I need her.

“Paige..” I drag her name out with a soft whine. “I..” Stopping because she knows what it is. Her clothed body is pressing against my heat, I roll my hips so she feels it. That’s the only way she snaps out of her trance with my breasts, she gives me a mocking pout.

“Aw, what, kitty?” Her full bottom lip pokes out, but the smile she fights back still curls in the corner. “hmm? tell me, ma..”

“Fuck me,” I breathe. Her smile is full fledged now. But she waits for more. “Ugh, please, baby..I need you..” my body loved the way she forced words out of me. If she opened my legs right now the teasing wouldn’t stop, it’d just move to how wet I am.

She doesn’t open them. Paige gets up and grabs the leash from my dresser, before returning back to standing over me, legs pressed tightly together on the bed, dress down my chest nearly off.

“Turn around.” Paige says. Not asking. More than happily, I sit up. Before I can turn over she flips me herself by my hips. I let out a gasp, it turns grows into a giggle that doesn’t hide how much that turned me on. Turning to look at her, my hands and knees on the mattress, batting my lashes, my back arching. From how she mumbled profanities, as she crawled near me, my taunting did what it was supposed to.

Her fingers go in my hair to pull it to the side, and the other hand loops the collar to the leash with a satisfying click. I start to squirm.

“Too cute...” She slides the dress further down my legs, I’m basically naked, getting unreasonably flustered at her staring at my wet slit. I hear an amused grin in her voice. “Don’t you dare move.” Paige mumbles. I feel a tug on the collar, the bell chimes, a moan hums in my mouth. My eyes closing, immersing into her taking care of me.

I hear her start to slide her clothes off, them dropping to the floor. Then she’s back hovering over me, and her finger slides down me slowly. I can’t help but let my head lower down, Paige grabs the leash up.

“Noo, I wanna to hear you kitty…” She coos, leaning down near my ear. The leash making me arch until I see her face, upside down, eyes still visible against the darkness. She slides her index inside of me, I sharply inhale, and breathe out a low moan.

More are pounded out of me as she adds another digit into where I’m now practically drooling from, twisting and curling them, trying to coax my orgasm out of me. Paige stares down at me, entertained, her mouth slightly open while she works inside me. Fingers so close to her lap she’s moving her hips and hand, bouncing me up and down off them, with the help of the leash.

My eyes are hitting the back of my head, I have to concentrate to focus back in on her gaze. Her expression making my sounds of pleasure louder, closer together. I hear her grunts in her throat each time my ass hits her hips, coming down on her hand.

A knot ties tight inside me. It’s about to snap. Paige doesn’t lighten up on the leash or her strokes. The collar chokes me, and instead of complaining, I wish she’d pull tighter.

“You’re such a slut..gripping me like this…” She huffs. Her fingers rub profusely on my G spot. “About to cum, hm kitten?” Paige breaths out with a small chuckle, leaning down to kiss my back, sweat on her upper lip.

I yelp in response, barley able to grip the covers anymore, reaching back to put my hand on her hip, it makes her add another.

“P-paige, I love-“ I force myself to stop and squeal instead.

“I know, baby. Me too.” She grunts lowly back. My head is spinning, even though we probably thought the sentence ended in different ways.

My legs start trembling as a wave relief and instant exhaustion ripple through me. I feel myself go limp, the third finger sending me over the edge.

Paige lets me face plant into the duvet, letting go of the leash, cold metal hitting my sweaty back. We’re both panting, I hear Paige’s stop in between while she’s licking herself clean of me. She rubs my back with her free hand, an exhausted satisfied laugh comes from behind me. I’m not looking, I just know a smug look is plastered.

Rolling over to look at her, and she’s undoing her hair tie with the facial expression I predicted, blonde strands falling down her back, studying my flushed face. She was still naked, which makes me giddy for some reason, knowing she used to rush to throw her clothes back on.

“Come here..” I lazily wave her over. This time she does what I say. I think about saying it to tease her, but she looks so cute when she crawls on top of my chest and looks up to me, doe eyed, I kiss her forehead instead.

“It was good?” Paige asks soft, seeking reassurance, like I’m not still feeling the after effects of her hands on me. I stroke her hair tenderly, getting turned on by her warm body pressed against mine, her face on my chest.

“Great. Amazing.” I chirp back with confidence. “It gets better every time.”

“Really? I dunno if I believe that…” A toothy grin stretches on her face instead. “I guess we’ll have to go again to test it out..” she shrugs, watching me as she glided her palm up my stomach to my chest again.

I nod eagerly in agreement. I had something to ask her. I can’t remember what.

niyafics©️