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cutehoons02 · 5 months ago

Text

Your favorite hot nerdy boy!

*pairing: hot nerdy idol Heeseung x writer Girl

*trope: brother best friend

*synopsis: What would happen if your crush from 4 years now found out that you wrote an extremely detailed one-shot and a little spicy with him as the protagonist? A disaster! Having a crush on Lee Heeseung was exhausting for you both because he was an idol, but also because he was your brother’s best friend and also because he was always surrounded by beautiful idols and fans who would do anything to attract his attention.

*tags: Lots of tension, Heeseung loves to tease the protagonist, slight wrinkling, possessive, jealous, both the protagonist and Heeseung are perverts, false shyness, a lot of kisses, fluff, masturbation (f. receives) unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) +18, reading of spicy scenes, fake innocent girl,pet names (good girl, princess,baby) (Hee)

(English is not my native language)

6.8k (🍬)

Sunghoon pt Jake pt

Heeseung was your favorite idol. He was your brother’s best friend, and to your bad luck, you had seen him debut and grow up with your brother. Every week, you had to see him on your social media, in the subway ads, on TV, and even when your brother made you some video calls. Lee Heeseung was always there.

That night, almost all the members had gone out to an event, and there was only Sunghoon with his girlfriend, Heeseung, and you, who had been visiting T/L Sunghoon’s girlfriend. Now they were spread out on the couch watching a movie, and you did not want to be a comfortable third.

You didn’t know exactly when it started. It was a silent crush, a little secret you had kept for years. You grew up watching Heeseung become more confident and brilliant on stage, always surrounded by beautiful and charismatic idols. Yet, every time you watched him in his natural habitat: the gaming chair, the messy hair, the focused expression while he played, your heart beat a little faster.

That night was no different. Sitting on the couch behind his you stared at Heeseung squatting in front of the computer, headphones that seemed to be glued to your ears, fingers flying on the keyboard as if he was orchestrating a digital symphony. On the table next to him, a tower of empty ramen bowls told the story of another intense gaming afternoon. Your gaze shifted from the figure of Heeseung to the computer screen, where digital characters moved frantically. He was immersed in the game, his hands dancing on the keys with an almost hypnotic precision. You stayed enchanted for minutes, even forgetting to scramble on the phone.

You didn’t understand what was so striking about Heeseung. It wasn’t just his appearance, although he was objectively charming. It was the contrast. The way he went from being the self-confident idol on stage to a simple and shy boy who got lost in video games and ramen.

«Do you like the show?» asked Heeseung suddenly, without taking his eyes off the screen.

You jumped, surprised by her statement. "W-what?"

Heeseung turned around just enough to show you his mischievous smile. «You were staring at me, princess. If you want to learn how to play, I can teach you, you know?»

You blushed and looked down at your phone, pretending to be busy. "I was just curious. It’s not that I’m interested in it so much."

«Mh-hm,» he did, raising an eyebrow as he returned to focus on the game.

Some notifications invade your field of view on the phone and you already know from which app they came: Tumblr. One evening months ago you downloaded the app out of curiosity and found #Enhypen x reader and there were thousands of one-shots on each member including your brother! , but as you were running you just like Heeseung’s and after weeks of reading stories about him you had the unhealthy idea to write one about him and published it on Tumblr under a pseudonym.

It was born as an innocent outburst, but by the time the story went viral - with hundreds of comments, reblogs, and likes you had experienced an explosive combination of embarrassment and pride. But no one knew that you were the author.

You heard Sunghoon’s girlfriend call you from the living room and went to her without taking your phone with you and this thing would have had repercussions that you didn’t even imagine or maybe, yes, only in your dreams.

You got up from the couch, stretching slightly. "I’m going to T/L. I’ll be right back."

Heeseung nodded distractedly, his eyes still glued to the computer screen as he dodged some virtual opponent’s attacks. He didn’t even notice that you had left your phone by the keyboard, with the screen still on; only when a notification sound caught his attention did he look down. The small blue Tumblr logo was shining in the top corner.

Tumblr?

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, more amused than anything. He knew that by now most girls read fanfiction about the famous one-shot, but that you even had an active profile that intrigued him a lot.

Another notification sound. A like. A comment.

"Wow, this story is fantastic! It’s so detailed! It seems the author knows Heeseung really well."

Heeseung slightly opened his eyes. Wait a minute. Like? Comments?

He looked at the screen and found the original post. And then he saw it.

Title: "Your favorite hot nerdy boy."

For a few seconds, he just stared at it, struggling between the urge to laugh and the one to feel vaguely offended. Nerdy. Pervy. Gamer Boy?

The smile spread over his lips as he opened the post. And when he started to read, he had to hold back a laugh.

The plot was simple, but so detailed that he had some doubts about your level of observation.

The story described him in his room, exactly as he was at that moment: sitting at his desk, immersed in video games, with a ramen tower next to it and his glasses slightly lowered over his nose. In the story, the protagonist entered the room timidly, finding him playing, and he, instead of ignoring her like any obsessed gamer, lured her to himself with a smile and then started provoking her.

-You wanna play with me, baby?" had said the pervy nerdy Heeseung, with a mischievous smile, before taking her wrist and pulling it on his knees. -

Heeseung covered his mouth with one hand so he wouldn’t burst out laughing. Baby. Knees. Nerdy. Pervy. What the hell was he reading?

He leaned a little more on the phone, scrolling through the comments.

"This is the version of Heeseung we needed, thank you for this pearl."

"Please tell us you will write a pt2l! We need more nerdy Hee ruining lives with her video games and dangerously sexy tone."

"Wait... why does everything seem so accurate? 🤨 Are you sure you don’t really know him?"

Well, that was the comment that really made him laugh. Because yes, you did know him. Maybe a little too well.

He let himself go on the chair, crossing his arms. So the small and innocent Y/n was not so innocent, eh? Not only did he read these stories, but he wrote them. And not on any generic idol. About him.

He heard footsteps approaching and just got around to putting the phone back where it was before you came in.

"What are you laughing at?" you asked, looking at him with suspicion as you sat down on the couch again.

Heeseung turned slowly to you, with a smirk on his face and eyes shining with fun. «Oh, nothing. I was just thinking...» He leaned against the back, studying it carefully. «Do you like gamers, Y/n?»

You stared at him for a second, confused. "What?"

He crossed his arms, leaning slightly forward. «I mean... Do you find charming the boys who spend nights playing, with glasses on the nose and a little bit of a husky voice for too many hours at the microphone? Maybe those who have a bit of a nerd side, but also a little... pervy?»

Your heart stopped. No. No, no, no.

Heeseung looked at you with that damned cunning smile, and suddenly you knew. Had he read? Did you look where you had placed the phone and it was upside down so he had rummaged in YOUR phone?

"Oh my God," you murmured, putting your hand to your mouth.

He chuckled. «No, no, go on. I’m curious. What happens next in the story? The nerdy pervy Heeseung keeps playing or...» He leaned over to you, lowering his voice. «Does he decide to have fun in another way?»

You jumped up, cheeks burning. "You read, didn’t you?! Oh my God, Heeseung!"

He moved before you could hit him with a pillow, laughing openly. «Hey, it’s not my fault that someone left their phone right in front of me. You shouldn’t have written such a good story.»

You were mortified. Destroyed. Could the floor open and swallow you, please?

Heeseung stood up, still with that damned amused air. «You know, if you wanted to write about me so much, you could have asked me for some more details.»

"I’m going to kill you," you hissed.

He laughed again, raising his hands in surrender, you wanted to leave that room and never see him again and you started to get up but Hee looked at you with a look. «Don’t go away Y/n, it’s not over for you!»

You sat on the couch, hands nervously entwined as you tried to concentrate on Heeseung’s computer screen.

The game that obsessed him so much seemed to her a jumble of colors, explosions, and strategies you didn’t understand, but at that moment the problem was not that.

The problem was that you couldn’t face him anymore and the most brazing thing was that you knew he was enjoying every second of your awkward expression, and the tense silence between you two was proof of how much he was having fun.

«Strange, eh?» broke the silence Heeseung, with his voice steeped in amusement.

"W-what?" He turned on the chair, leaning his elbow on the armrest and looking at you with glittering eyes. «You. You are always so sweet and innocent with everyone, the little sister that everyone wants to protect...» He took a dramatic pause before adding with a smirk: «...and then write one-shot hot about me?»

You’d sink into the couch, your face on fire. "They weren’t that hot and then I wrote one, not more!"

Heeseung burst out laughing. «Ah, so you admit that you wrote it?»

You opened your eyes wide, realizing the trap she fell into. "No! I mean, yes! I mean... Ugh!" You covered your face with your hands. "You shouldn’t have read it.»

«And I did but not quite,» he said, in a tone all too satisfied. Then he came slightly closer, folding his arms on the table and leaning towards you. «You know, I could tell your brother.»

You felt a shiver of panic across your back. "You wouldn’t do that."

«Oh, I would,» he replied, holding a grin. «I can already imagine the scene: 'Hey, did you know that your adorable little sister spends her time writing stories in which I’m a pervy nerd boy?'»

"I hate you," you hissed, glaring at him with your gaze.

«No, you don’t hate me», replied Heeseung, resting his chin on one hand. "In fact, according to Tumblr, you love me and have a little obsession with me!» You threw a pillow in his direction, but he blocked it with a laugh. «All right, all right. We can make a deal.»

"What kind of deal?" you said in a low voice because you already knew that it would not bring anything good

Heeseung leaned back into the chair, enjoying the moment. «If you don’t want me to tell your brother... you must read it out loud.»

You were speechless. "You’re joking."

He shook his head, the smile that did not seem to fade. «Not at all. I want to hear with what tone you described me.»

"No, absolutely not," you said, shaking your head in panic.

Heeseung shrugged. «All right. Then I’ll call your brother.»

You stepped up, reaching out to stop him. "Wait! You’re a real idiot."

«And you are indeed a secret writer,» he replied with a grin.

You had two choices: to die of shame in front of him, or to die of shame in front of your brother and probably all the members of Enhypen.

"Okay," you murmured. "I’ll read it."

«Perfect», said Heeseung, chin-leaning on his hands, ready to enjoy the show. «I want to hear every word, from first to last.»

You never thought it would end this way, yet here you are, forced to read your own one-shot hot... in front of the guy who inspired it.

You wanted to disappear. You wanted to take the phone, erase everything, run away, and forget forever that that night ever happened. But you knew that Heeseung wouldn’t let him.

He was still sitting in his gaming chair, phone in hand, scrolling through the words of his one-shot as if it were the best novel he had ever read.

«So... », he said with a small smile as he glanced at her. «Where had I been?»

You came close, trying to rip the phone out of his hands. "Give it back! You didn’t have to read it!"

Heeseung easily leaned aside, lifting his arm and moving the phone out of her reach. «Oh no, princess. Now I want to know how it goes and if you don’t read it I’ll read it for you, you promised otherwise I’ll tell everyone your dirty secret.»

He opened the text and, with a low and amusing voice, began to read aloud.

"He was sitting in his gaming chair, headphones around his neck and the controller still firmly in his hands. But when she came closer, he dropped it on the desk, taking it for life and making it sit on its legs..."

"Heeseung"

He did not stop. With an almost theatrical intonation, he continued:

"As he played, his hands slowly slid on her back, fingers tracing invisible paths across the thin skin of her shirt. It was a distracted gesture, but at the same time so intimate that you can’t breathe..."

Heeseung put down his phone and looked at her with a clever smile. «Interesting.»

"Enough, okay? You’ve had your fun," you mumbled, trying to grab the phone again.

But Heeseung stopped you, gripping your wrist gently. «Wait,» he said, in that low tone he used when he wanted to put you in trouble. «Have you ever been on a boy’s lap while playing?»

"What?!" you pulled your arm back as if his skin was scorched. "Of course not!"

He leaned against the back of the chair, clapping his hand on his thigh. «Do you want to try?» felt your face become glowing. "You are completely crazy."

«It’s not true», said Heeseung, laughing quietly. «I say only that it would be a shame to write these things and not test them in reality.»

Clenched your fists, trying to think of a clever answer, but the problem was that... You couldn’t say no. Because yes, the idea made you die of embarrassment, but it was also what you had written. Why did you write it, if you never thought you wanted it?

Heeseung looked at you, studying you as if he could read your mind. Then he tilted his head to one side. «Then?» close your lips. "No."

He didn’t answer immediately, but he glanced at you, looking at the way you were holding your phone in your hands, and how your breath was slightly more irregular. Then he smiled. «Lie.»

He made you think. "I’m not lying!"

«Mh-mh» he did, unconvinced. Then he reached out to you with a hand, without stopping looking into your eyes. «Come here, little writer.»

You stood still for a few seconds, torn between rationality and desire. You knew it was a bad idea. You knew that if you got close, you wouldn’t be able to pretend this was a game anymore; but in the end... you took a step forward. Then another one.

Heeseung took your hand and gently pulled you towards himself, guiding you to sit on his legs.

You held your breath. You felt the warmth of his body, the solidity of his arms that held you still. He settled down better in the chair as if it were the most normal thing in the world. «See? It’s not so strange.»

you did not answer, too busy to hear the beat of your heart go crazy. Heeseung came back to get the controller, turning on the game screen. With naturalness, without even thinking too much, he let a hand slide on your back, caressing it slowly, exactly as in the story and you shudder.

He smiled, he had noticed. «Do you like it?» he asked, his voice slightly lower.

You looked down, biting your lip. "Yes," you admitted, barely a whisper. Heeseung made a little satisfied sound, returning to focus on the screen and at the same time continued playing as if nothing had happened. But his smile said otherwise. because he wanted to drive you crazy and the game had just begun.

The silence in the room was broken only by the sound of the keys pressed and the ticking of the mouse while Heeseung, with one hand, continued to play. The other one, instead, was slipping lazily down your back, making little circles on your skin through the thin fabric of the mesh.

You were completely stiff in his arms, his cheeks burning, his heart beating so fast that you could hear it in your ears.

«Mh?» he said, as if nothing had happened, the warm breath that touched your neck. «You are so rigid. You must relax.»

"How can I relax if"

«Shhh,» he interrupted you, and with a slow movement, he took back his phone. «Where were we? Ah, right.» He cleared his voice, then began to read aloud:

"As the sound of the game continued to fill the room, he let slip a hand under her shirt, touching the warm skin on her side. Then he bent down and left a soft kiss on his neck, feeling the body shivering under his touch."

You stared and tried to get away, but Heeseung held you with a gentle but firm grip.

«Too?» he asked, with a funny smirk.

"Yes! Too much!" you exclaimed with your face on fire.

But Heeseung didn’t seem to want to stop. Instead, he slowly lowered the phone, tilted his head, and let his lips touch the sensitive skin on your neck just as described in the story.

You held your breath, a shiver passed through your back. "Heeseung... what are you doing?"

«I’m just following the plot,» he muttered against your skin, his voice slightly amused but also lower than usual.

Then, without saying anything else, he let his hand slip under the edge of your shirt, hot fingers touching your side, just like in history.

You wanted to disappear, you wanted to protest, but your body was betraying every single rational thought.

"Hee... I will..."

He stopped for a moment, his lips still close to his skin. «Do you want me to stop?» you stood in silence for a few seconds, desperately trying to find an answer.

Then, with a little voice, you admitted: "...No."

Heeseung smiled at your skin. «Good girl.»

The room was now immersed in an electric voltage. The sound of the game was now a distant memory; Heeseung had turned off everything, but not his fun.

With the phone in his hand, he kept reading the one-shot as his fingers slowly traced your warm skin under the shirt.

«Let’s see what happens next,» he muttered, in a low and slightly husky voice. «Ah, here we are...» 'He took her by the hips and turned her, placing her on top of him in a horseshoe. She stood on him, with her heart beating fast, while he grabbed her face and kissed her with arrogance as if he did not want to let her escape.'

Heeseung paused for a moment, looking down at her with a dangerous smirk. «Interesting. What do you say, princess? Should we try this part too?»

You opened your eyes wide, the body stretching out instantly. "Heeseung, no, it’s an unreal thing, I wrote it so much at random. Let’s finish here."

He chuckled softly, but there was something in his eyes that looked slightly darker than usual. «You always say no, but you don’t move.»

Before you could argue, you felt his hands gently clench your hips. In a moment, with almost humiliating ease, Heeseung lifted you slightly and turned you around, putting you on his horse.

You could feel Heeseung’s warm breath against your face, the way his hands were still resting on his hips, holding you there as if he wasn’t going to let go.

Your heart was beating like a drum. "H-Heeseung..."

He bowed his head, looking at you with those dark eyes that seemed to pierce her soul. «Tell me something, Y/n.» His voice was low and calm but with a shimmering edge of authority. «How long have you had a crush on me?»

You felt the heat explode in your face. No. No, you couldn’t admit it.

You clear your throat, trying to take a more confident tone. "Me? For you?" You laughed nervously, turning away. "Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t have a crush on you."

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, his lips curled into a sort of predatory grin. «No?»

"No," you said, crossing your arms to give you a sense of security. "And anyway... I may have also written a one-shot about the other members. You’re not as special as you think you are!"

For a moment, Heeseung said nothing. But then, without warning, your Tumblr profile started to scroll and after a few seconds, the screen lit up with one unique, unambiguous truth and put it in front of you.

There was only one shot on his profile. That.

Over 4,000 likes. Hundreds of comments. All about him.

Heeseung looked at you, and this time his smile was different. Darker. More confident. More... arrogant.

«Here I see only a one-shot and it’s on me, eh?» whispered, the voice steeped in satisfaction.

You wanted to die of embarrassment. "It was an accident," you murmured weakly.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. «Don’t lie, princess». Then, without giving you time to react, he grabbed your chin with one hand and forced you to look him in the eye, and for a moment the world stopped.

And then, Heeseung kissed you.

The kiss was not gentle, it wasn’t sweet. It was pure domination. Arrogant. Self-confident. His lips moved on yours with a confidence that made you tremble, as if he wanted to show you exactly who was in control at the time.

You blew when you heard his tongue asking for access to yours and you instinctively grabbed the collar of his sweater to find a grip. He squeezed you a little more by the hips, holding you firmly above him as his mouth explored yours with an exasperating slowness.

When he parted, he had a smug smile on her lips. «Tell me again that you don’t have a crush on me.» you tried to recover, the irregular breath. "I..." But Heeseung shook his head. «No, you know what? It doesn’t matter.» He came up again, touching your earlobe with his lips. He was very happy. «Because now I know the truth.»

And again slammed his lips on yours with exasperating slowness, as if he wanted to drive you crazy, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to your mad heart. The kiss was a perfect mix of sweetness and mastery. He was determined, sure, but not aggressive if he wanted to take his time as if he wanted to savor every second.

His hands, resting on your hips, held you exactly where he wanted you to, without giving you the chance to escape and you were completely lost in that feeling, in the heat of his mouth against yours, the way every movement made you feel like you were falling into a vortex that you didn’t want to get out of.

Then, without realizing it, you missed a sound. A small, involuntary groan. "Hee..."

Time seemed to stand still.

Heeseung was stuck for a moment, then slightly detached from you, enough to look you straight in the eye and the smile she gave you was something dangerous. Sure. Of cheeky.

«Say it again.»

You felt the heat rise up your neck to your cheeks. "What?" You tried to deny it, but his voice trembled.

Heeseung looked down at your lips, then he looked back at you with that hot nerdy boy look that made you crazy. «You have just groaned my name.» He stroked your back slowly, sliding his fingers along your uncovered skin. «I want to hear it again.»

You clenched your fists against the fabric of his sweatshirt, trying to ignore the way his voice made you shiver. "Stop..."

But he didn’t want to stop. He brought his mouth closer to your ear, his voice low and almost hypnotic. «I want to hear my name on your lips. Only mine. No other boy.» You felt your heart stop for a moment, then start beating even harder and honestly, you didn’t know how to handle that version of Heeseung-too confident, too cheeky, too irresistible.

You were desperate to find a way to shift the conversation.

"I should go..."

He just leaned back, tilting his head with a funny smile. «And the story? You haven’t finished it.»

Bite your lip. "I don’t... I don’t want to tell you what happens next."

Heeseung leaned against the back of his gaming chair, still with you on his lap, and looked at you with a smug look. «Why not? So far we have been faithful to the plot, no?» shook your head with force. " Until here it could also be there, but... after becomes more..."

He raised an eyebrow, amused by his hesitation. «More?»

You looked down, playing with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "More... spicy."

Heeseung’s laugh was low and deep as if he had just heard something extremely interesting. «Oh? How spicy?»

You shrugged. "Enough."

He looked at you for a few seconds, then came closer again, touching your chin with his fingers. «Tell me.»

"The protagonist... I mean, you..."

Heeseung nodded impatiently. «Continue."

"... makes the protagonist feel good with her fingers and mouth."

He laughed softly. «Oh, really?»

You wanted to sink into shame. "Heeseung, I can’t..."

He looked at you with a dangerous smile. «Y/n, you wrote a one-shot hot about me and posted it on the internet for thousands of people. But you can’t tell me to my face, what have you written so forbidden about me?» he said laughing.

Hit him in the chest. "Stop laughing like that!"

He became more serious, but his gaze remained intense. «Ok, I ask you differently.» He took your chin between two fingers, forcing you to look him in the eye. «At the end of the story, you and I... do we have sex or love?»

Your heart lost a beat. The way he said it, in that low and sure voice, made you tremble.

"N-no. We don’t make love."

Heeseung stopped. «No?»

You looked down. "I... knew that you were not in love with me. So, in the story... let’s say we would only have sex."

For a moment, there was only silence in the room. Then, suddenly, Heeseung burst into laughter.

It was a warm, deep, amused... and slightly unbelieving laugh.

You looked at him with a frown. "Why are you laughing?"

Heeseung stared at you with a mixture of fun and something else-something deeper, more dark. «It’s just that...» He shook his head, still laughing. «Everyone sees you as the sweet and innocent girl. And here you are, sitting on my lap, telling me that you wrote a one-shot about me where we 'just' had sex.»

You cover your face with your hands. "Oh, my God, will you stop saying that?"

He smiled, tilting his head. «No. It’s too funny.»

Then he lowered his voice, the tone again full of that dangerous charm. «But tell me, Y/N... in the story, at the end, does the protagonist repent?»

Shook your head without looking at him. "No."

He approached, almost whispering against his skin. «And you? Would you regret if what you wrote became reality?"

Your heart lost a beat before you lost 1,000 years of life when you heard that question from the lips of Heeseung and the boy you had a crush on for 4 years. Without thinking for a moment it was your turn to take the reins and you kissed him, this time the kiss was more passionate, sloppy and you put your arms around his neck to feel it even more and he put his hands around your ass and got up slightly stumbling from his gaming chair and as he approached his bed he said:

«Tell me to stop now or I won’t do it anymore because I want you all for myself from today on» you made no head and Hee put you in his big bed, Hee looked at you with his eyes of children, and said:

«Princess, maybe we didn’t understand each other but you must use your lips and your mouth to speak, to tell me what you want me to do. I don’t want to do things you’ll regret, what do you want right now?»

Heeseung slammed your pants with his big hands and you just jerked slightly because he had a little cold hand.

"I want you to touch me," you mumble shamefully, and his lips rise with a smile of a grin.

«You are so pretty, really, who would have thought that you would ask her sweet and innocent Y/n to touch her.» Hee sighs, smiling fondly, but there is a sneaky gleam in his eyes as he looks at you; Hee begins rubbing his overalls length into the center of your core. You wanted to be touched with his hands not with his cock that pushed and then lowered, the friction made you moan a little "Mm-mm," protesting, but the way your hips move against him, rolling back and forth and rustling brazenly in search of relief, He tells another story, Hee laughed because he wanted to ruin you but at the same time be also cautious with you.

«Don’t you like it? But wait... what did you say before?» he asks, with a mocking cadence in his words. «I want you to touch me,» echoes your earlier request in a very bad imitation of your voice. «Well, I’m touching you, princess, don’t you like it?» When your only answer is a small nod, shake your head with disapproval, and the look becomes dark. «Words.»

"Yes," whimpering, without wasting a minute, slipping his smooth fingers over your underwear band and starting to caress your folds, fingers that slip through your excitement with embarrassing ease.

«You’re a disaster down here», he comments, her eyes lit up with joy and something wild, primordial as it teases you. «Do you like me so much? Hm, when you read and write those dirty things about me you touched?» He seems to need no answer as he smiles at you brazenly, scrutinizing your face intensely to absorb every reaction to his touch, no matter how small.

It slides your fingers up, up, up until it touches the lower part of your clitoris, and you wail, wriggling.

«Answer me Y/n» nodding weakly and laughing with a low voice and husky

«Show me», he croaks, and you blink, too embarrassed by her request. «Show me how you do it when you are alone when you think of me».

"I never did it at all Hee" he shrugged and gave you his hand and with a glance invited you to proceed; with the cheeks in flames, guided his hand to massage your clitoris in circles, Your abdomen stiffened by reflex every time it fingers touch the sensitive lower part of your clitoris.

«Speak to me, princess, don’t be shy», she gently urges you

"I only rub it in circles like this," you mumble, with a slightly husky voice for desire, and the change does not go unnoticed if Heeseung’s intensifying gaze means something.

«Don’t you go in?» he asks softly, and you shake your head.

"I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that to you," you whine, and he breathes in abruptly, swearing quietly, taking your panties off with already some leaks, and your pussy was already excited.

«I want to try something, do you trust me, princess?» you made myself with my head «I want to touch you as you like and at the same time I will touch you, suck and bite those turgid buds that are almost about to escape from the mesh for how hard they are and I will make you come»

"okay," you pulled up your shirt, and with a strong movement you took off the bra and your breast flipped slightly at the sight of your breast Heeseung cursed under his voice, with one hand she wrapped a breast and with her mouth, he started to suck and bite and at the same time with the other hand he taunted your clitoris and without warning you put one of his fingers in your core and you arch your back for the various sensations of pleasure that you felt.

"Hee" He sucks your buds with an almost ferocious ferocity, alternating breasts as if he never had enough, and his hand creeps around your side to draw you closer to him. As she pops your nipple back and forth with her tongue, her fingers pump into your pussy and stroke you closer to your orgasm until you’re so close that you can practically savor the sweet, intoxicating sensation of ecstasy. «Show me what sound you make when you come, princess.»

"It’s so beautiful," you whine, and he hums in agreement.

«Say my name, darling".

"Heeseung," you groan brazenly, and he makes a sound halfway between moaning and growling as he pulls your nipple with his teeth.

Does not stop taking care of your breasts alternating sucking and clicking and rolling his tongue around the buds until you fall, your body cools against the bed to support you as you come, and at the end, pulls out his fingers covered with excitement from your pussy, Sliding them over your lower lip before pushing your fingers into your mouth to suck.

You do it with an awkward look and he was watching every movement of your lips as you suck his finger.

«I bet that wasn’t in your story!» with a little shy smile you did no head and after a while, you saw Heeseung put one of his little pillows under you and push down at the same time your pants and boxer shorts, he spread your legs, fits between them and aligns the tip with your entry

«Ready, princess?» asks, and you nod cautiously, the eyes that come down from his face to where the thick head of its length presses against your core. «Good girl» whispers before slowly pushing into you, covering your mouth slightly with the palm of your hand while breathing loudly, Heeseung was seriously afraid that Sunghoon or his girlfriend could hear him fucking with you but who cared; he heard him groan, and come up with his girlfriend’s name.

"So beautiful," you whisper in amazement, and he chuckles softly into your ear, his lips pressed on the spot just behind your lobe.

«Feel so tight around me, darling, feel how you’re taking me,» he grunts, gasping breath in your ear. «So fucking good...»

"Heeseung, move," you whisper urgently as it touches the bottom within you, and he obeys, pulling out the tip and pushing back into you. A loud hiss of air comes out of your lungs, and he sucks on your ear lobe, making you emit a loud groan.

«God, do you want to make everyone hear who is fucking you? I remind you that we are not alone»

"Mm-! No, I don’t" you insist among your cries of pleasure, and he shakes his head with a mocking smile.

«Yes, you do» he teases you. «You want everyone to hear my name moaning and what will they think of you? The little and innocent Y/n is getting fucked like the perfect little doll obsessed with me and my dick»

"Hee-seung-" stutters, small noises leave you with every powerful push of his hips. It is so good, so big and thick, and it is filling you in the right way and hitting all the right spots, and it becomes too very quickly, an overwhelming amount of pleasure flowing through your body as it fucks you. He was much more good and realistic at all the times you had written, read on Tumblr, or thought about what it would be like to be his. His fingers find your clitoris, rubbing it in quick circles just as you showed him before. "Fuck, stop, too..."

«Stop lying, you said too much today so I should punish you for not letting me fuck you?» Whispers, moving to tilt the hips towards you in the right way so that each shot of the hips sends its tip directly into your G-spot.

You feel heat behind your eyes and the first tear comes down before you can dry it, another tear follows after that as the pleasure consumes you almost completely.

«Princess, don’t cry, I’m making you feel good and I’m giving you all that you wrote about me", he reached out his free hand to wipe the tears.

"So good, too good," you stutter, and he laughs, «Fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry.»

"Please let me come" plead, and his movements stutter,

«Yes? Does the princess want to come?» he grunts, his eyes closing for a moment as your walls bend again around him. «Fuck, it’s so nice-come for me, baby.»

Without any need, you promptly collapse around him with a series of curses and "please" and you just say his name while your nails stick in the back, making him slightly drool. You sure look disastrous, your eyes moist and shiny as tears run down your cheeks.

«I’m close-dick-» grunts. «I’m coming, where do you want it?»

"Inside me, please..." moans weakly, and he makes a sound that is a mixture of a smug laugh and a groan.

«I can’t believe everyone thinks you’re a saint, an innocent girl and now you’re begging for my sperm. Do you want me to fill you up?» Breathe, the hips that penetrate you.

"Please..." you whine, and he swears to himself.

«Fuck, take it all», he pushes, his hips pressing against yours while he buries himself in you and unloads his load. «It’s all for you,» he says breathlessly as its length contracts inside of you.

It stays inside you for a moment, both of you try to catch your breath until he comes out from you and kisses you.

The room was immersed in a warm and comfortable silence, broken only by the slow and still slightly irregular breaths of you and Heeseung.

The sheets were a messy tangle around your bodies, while the soft light of the lamp illuminated the soft contours of your figures. Heeseung passed a hand through your hair, fingers gently intertwining between the strands, as if he wanted to memorize every detail of that moment. You were still with red cheeks, playing with his fingers, drawing little circles on the back of his hand.

After a while, he spoke in that relaxed and slightly amused tone that always made her heart beat.

«How much?»

You looked up, confused. "In what way?"

Heeseung laughed softly, shaking his head as if it were obvious. «How long have you had a crush on me?»

You flashed your eyes and instinctively covered your face with his hands. "No... I don’t know," the men lied, trying to hide their embarrassment.

He gently extended his hands, forcing you to look at him. «Y/n». His tone was low, amused, almost hypnotic. «Don’t lie to me.»

You looked down, biting your lip, then sighed. "Perhaps... four years."

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, surprised. «Four years?»

You slowly stare, feeling ashamed. "I didn’t know it myself at first, but then it became clear to me when I saw you for the first time on stage."

He looked at you for a long moment, then burst out laughing. «Four years?! Baby, it’s so much.»

You punched him lightly in the chest, sulky. "Here! And stop teasing me."

Heeseung chuckled, holding you close to him. «I’m not kidding, it’s just... absurd. Four years.» He shook his head, then lowered his voice, almost as if he was confessing a secret. «I have had a kind of crush on you for a couple of months.»

You raised your head of the shot, eyes wide open. "What?"

He smiled, stroking your cheek with his thumb. «Yeah. You didn’t really think I hadn’t noticed you, did you?»

You looked down, still incredulous, and he squeezed you harder.

For a while, they just stood there, embracing, enjoying that new sweet silence that spoke more than a thousand words.

Then, with a clever smile, Heeseung whispered against your ear: «So... if it worked so well, do you think you can write more one-shots about me?»

You lifted your head from the shot, hitting it lightly on his chest. "NO!" «Come on, you could at least make me the protagonist of an entire series.»

Shook my head, my eyes glistening. "No, I don’t need to imagine anything anymore. Better to hear it live."

Heeseung looked at you satisfied. «Excellent answer.»

And he kissed you again.

Taglist: @jayjw16enxp @jvngwni @jooniesbears-blog @gguk-n @cloudykim @enhaverse713586 @immelissaaa @d4-b1 @firstclassjaylee @stormy1408 @jakesw82 @misssparklyprincess @bamguetismee @jaylajakey @arclviie @strxwbloody @steddie-steddie @jungwoosbaey @laurenmia65 @tasnemluvs

Comments and rebblog are appreciated:)

#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen fluff #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #lee heesung smut #lee heeseung imagines #lee know x reader #enhypen heeseung #heeseung smut #heeseung #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hyung line #enhypen headcanons

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avengersnewb · 2 years ago

Text

The guild’s insistence in achieving a minimum guaranteed staff level for episodic TV was considered an extreme long-shot when the contract discussions began in March.

They achieved a new-model streaming residual formula that should help fellow striking union SAG-AFTRA in its quest to achieve a revenue-based residual. The WGA’s formula amounts to a bonus system based on pre-determined, high-bar performance benchmarks for individual titles. But it’s nonetheless more than industry dealmakers predicted the guild would secure when the first round of WGA-AMPTP talks began in earnest last spring.

The nitty-gritty details of language around the use of generative AI in content production was one of the last items that the sides worked on before closing the pact.

They did it.

Solidarity works.

Unions are our only tool against capitalistic greed.

[x]

Fact: To be completely precise, the agreement is tentative and the strike will end when the members vote. The guild has allowed the writers to go back to work from Wednesday 27th 12:01. All members still need to vote for the new contract to be final but the strike is officially over. [x]

Opinion: However it’s very unlikely to be any hurdles because the same people who called for the strike are calling for it to be over.

Hence: wga strike ENDS and not ENDED.

#wga strike #wga strike end #destiel news #destiel #capitalism #union solidarity #unions #sag aftra #sag aftra strike

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ssa-aaron-hotchnerr · 9 days ago

Text

How to Cure Insomnia (Hotchner’s Version)

about: Aaron likes to show up in your hotel room when neither of you can sleep

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, aaron is a sweetheart, nicknames (call reader honey), aftercare, not really proof read

word count: 1462

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment things had changed between you and Hotch.

Perhaps it was the weekend you’d spent cramped in a tiny motel room while doing an interview with a serial killer. There had been one queen bed and a lumpy couch. He was ever the gentleman and offered to take the couch. By night two you’d forced him to join you in the bed, even building a pillow wall to maintain a modicum of decency.

Maybe it had been the night he’d knocked on your hotel door because he’d had a feeling you’d still be awake. And there you were, hunched over some case files even though you’d be flying home in the morning. He’d ended up staying the whole night as you two raided the hotel minibar and talked.

It became a routine of sorts.

When people had to share rooms, you bunked with him. If one of you couldn’t sleep you’d text the other – sometimes he’d even show up at your door unannounced – and keep each other company until one of you at least found some sleep.

But eventually talking wasn’t part of the routine. Instead he’d press his lips against yours, peel off your clothes with expert precision, before he was pressing you into the mattress. The feel of his body against your own chased your thoughts away. He’d strip you down to your barest form where nothing else mattered – not your job, not the rest of the world, nothing but each other. It put you both to sleep.

Today was another one of those nights. You’d gotten home from a particularly rough case the night before and you hadn’t slept a minute. Tonight was much of the same. You’d been trying to relax all day, considering you had only a few days off, but you’d been restless.

You were a glass of wine and half an episode of a trashy reality tv show into your evening, before you finally texted Aaron.

During cases you didn’t mind dragging him into your room. But when you were home, you felt like there was an invisible line drawn between you two. He had a son and a life outside of work. You didn’t want to interrupt that. But you hadn’t slept in nearly 48 hours.

You: Hi

You chewed on your bottom lip – a nervous habit – as you waited for a response.

A text never came but there was a knock on your apartment door. Eyebrows shot up as you clambered off the couch. You weren’t sure who was here considering you didn’t have many friends outside of the BAU.

You weren’t expecting to see Aaron Hotchner standing in your doorway, holding his phone up. You could see your text message lit up on the screen. “Hey.”

“Were you seriously already on your way over?” you asked, humor lacing your words. “Before I even texted?"

Aaron shrugged. “Jack’s asleep and Jessica was staying the night anyway. Figured you’d still be awake.”

You opened your door wider, letting him step inside your apartment. He’d only been here a few times but it felt like he belonged in the space whenever he was inside. He’d slotted himself into your life like the perfect puzzle piece.

He glanced around, taking in the sight of your wine glass and the faint hum of the tv. “Trying to bore yourself to sleep?” he asked, gesturing to screen.

You shrugged. “Needed something to stop myself from thinking too much.”

“I think I can take care of that for you.” He moved towards you, gently pressing his lips against yours.

“That sounds better,” you murmured against his mouth.

He backed you up, guiding you to your own bedroom. Pieces of clothing were discarded as you stumbled through your house. By the time you made it to the bed, the only thing keeping you separated from him was underwear.

He nudged your thighs apart as he hovered over you. He dipped his fingers between your legs, dragging them through your slick folds.

“You were waiting for me to come over, weren’t you honey?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied breathlessly. You were always waiting for him.

He sunk two of his fingers into your wet heat, curling them. He knew your body well by now. He knew just how to make you cry out for him, back arching off the mattress. As he slowly pumped his fingers, he pressed his thumb to your clit.

“Aaron,” you keened.

“Shh,” he hushed you gently. “It’s late. Don’t want to wake your neighbors, hm?”

“N-no…”

He pressed his lips against your, muffling any noise that came out of your mouth as he thoroughly fucked you with his fingers. Each pass of his thumb over your clit had you careening towards the edge. The knot in your tummy was close to snapping. And Aaron didn’t stop until your thighs were shaking.

He slowly worked you through your first orgasm of the night. He never only left you with one. His goal was to tire you out and to make you feel good.

You watched as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, peeling them down his legs. His cock was already hard and leaking precum. It was a sight you’d never tire of seeing.

He ran the tip through your folds. “You want my cock?”

“Yes,” you nodded, voice breaking off into a moan as he pressed his cock into your aching cunt.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he bottomed out. “You always feel so good, honey.”

Nails dug into his back as he rocked his hips against yours. Each roll of his hips had him hitting depths you didn’t know anyone could, brushing up against your g-spot with each movement. Moans tumbled out of your mouth.

He hushed you again, hand coming up to cover your mouth. “What did I tell you about being loud, hm?”

It was late. This was always what happened – he’d have to quiet you one way or another while he pounded you into the mattress. And you didn’t exactly want your neighbors to complain about the noise. So you let him clamp his hand over your mouth to muffle your sounds.

His free hand moved across your body – raking across your tits, pinching at your nipples until they were hard, before moving down to find your clit. He rubbed tight, quick circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he asked as he felt your cunt tighten around his length. You were gripping him like a vice, making him groan softly. His head dropped down and he pulled his hand away from your mouth, to claim your lips in a heated kiss.

You nodded as best you could as you returned the kiss.

Aaron was spurred on. He needed to feel you come undone around him. The feel of your perfect, warm cunt, squeezing him was the closest he’d ever get to heaven in this life.

“Come for me, honey,” he mumbled against your mouth.

That was all the encouragement you needed before the knot in your stomach was unraveling. Warmth spread through your body – like every nerve was on fire – and your toes curled. He worked you through your second orgasm of the night until he himself was coming undone.

He buried himself to the hilt, as his body shook. “God, you feel so good,” he groaned.

He tried not to totally collapse on top of you, but you seemed to have different plans. You tugged him all the way down so his body was completely blanketing your own.

“You gotta let me clean you up,” he said, trying to untangle his limbs from your own.

Reluctantly you let him leave your bed. He pulled his boxers up his hips as he headed for the bathroom. He’d been in here enough that he knew where you kept all your things. He grabbed a washcloth from the cabinet, wetting it, before returning to your bed.

His hands were gentle as he cleaned up the mess he’d made between your thighs.

“Thanks,” you murmured.

He smiled softly. “Of course.”

Once your body was cleaned up he pulled an oversized t-shirt from your drawer for you to wear. He settled back in bed next to you, letting you snuggle up against his side.

While the multiple orgasms always helped you fall asleep, being tucked against him helped you sleep even more. With your head on his chest, you were already getting sleepy, eyes drooping shut. He played with your hair as you drifted off.

“Thanks for coming over,” you whispered.

“You know you don’t have to thank me for that, honey.”

“I know. But still… thank you.”

He kissed the top of your head. “Just go to sleep, honey. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Aaron.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut

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cheeseatlantic · 2 months ago

Text

THE WAY HE SEES YOU

You didn’t mean to snoop. Honestly.

You were just looking for batteries. The TV remote had died (again), and Johnny had insisted—insisted—they were in the desk drawer. “The one by the printer, love,” he’d said, like you were foolish for not knowing which drawer he meant.

Except when you opened the bottom one, there were no batteries.

Just a thick, black sketchbook. Worn at the corners. Sturdy. And your name—your full name—written in his handwriting across the cover.

You stared at it for a moment. That familiar blocky scrawl, written with the sort of precision he reserved for mission logs or weapon maintenance checklists. Just your name. Nothing else. No title. No explanation.

And despite yourself… you opened it.

The first page hit you like a punch to the chest.

A sketch of you curled up on the couch, mug in hand, socks mismatched, hair all over the place. The detail was insane. The curve of your cheek, the way your fingers held the mug, the slight furrow of your brow like you were lost in thought. It was you—undeniably you—but drawn with such softness that it made your throat tighten.

You flipped the page.

Another drawing. You in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, concentrating on chopping vegetables like it was a matter of national security. The way your tongue poked out slightly when you focused. You didn’t even know you did that.

Another. You asleep on his chest, hair tangled, drool on your cheek. He’d even added a little note beside that one:

Still cute. Even when snorin’ like a bear.

And then more:

You brushing your teeth. You halfway through a laugh. You in his hoodie. You staring out the window. You frowning at the laundry. You tying your shoe. You existing.

Little notes scattered through the pages, written in the margins:

Didn’t know they had that wee freckle behind their ear.

Caught ‘em singin’ to the dog this mornin’. Sounded awful. Looked adorable.

Smile slipped today. Somethin’s botherin’ them. Gotta ask.

They look at me like I’m worth somethin’. I dunno what to do with that.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until a tear dropped onto the paper.

Then—

“Oi.”

You jumped like you’d been shot.

Johnny stood in the doorway, towel slung over his shoulder, hair damp, shirtless. His eyes flicked from your face to the sketchbook in your lap.

You scrambled to close it. “I—I didn’t mean to—“

He walked over before you could finish, settling beside you on the couch. He didn’t look angry. Just… embarrassed. His ears were red.

“Was lookin’ fer batteries, aye?” he said, voice softer than usual. “Should’ve kent better than leavin’ that drawer unlocked.”

You hugged the book to your chest. “Johnny… these are incredible.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, mumbling, “They’re just sketches, hen. Nothin’ fancy.”

You opened it again and showed him a random page—one where he’d drawn you laughing so hard you were doubled over, holding your stomach. You remembered that day. He’d told some ridiculous story in a terrible American accent, and you couldn’t breathe from how hard you’d been laughing.

“You think this is nothing fancy?” you said quietly.

He shrugged, eyes on the book. “Just wanted tae remember ye. The wee things. How ye look when yer no’ puttin’ on a face fer the world. Y’know—when it’s just me watchin’.”

Your heart clenched. “So you drew me?”

He gave a small nod. “Drawin’s the only way I know tae keep things. Photos are too loud. But sketchin’… it feels like holdin’ onto somethin’ quiet.”

You stared at him for a moment. “You drew me like I’m beautiful.”

He glanced sideways at you, then gave a soft snort. “That’s ‘cause ye are, dafty.”

You swatted him gently, laughing through your tears. “You could’ve told me you were doing this.”

“Ach, where’s the fun in that?” he said with a grin. “Besides… if I told ye, ye’d start posin’. And I like ye better when ye dinnae know I’m lookin’.”

You blinked, caught off-guard by how easily he said it.

He flipped to the last page in the book. It was blank, but he drew a tiny heart in the corner with his fingertip. “Think I’ll keep goin’. Keep drawin’ ye. One day I’ll have a hundred books like this.”

You leaned into him, head on his shoulder. “And what if I go grey? Or get wrinkly?”

“Then I’ll draw that, too,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Every bloody line, love. Ye age, I draw. Deal?”

You turned to face him, eyes misty. “Deal.”

Later that night, while you brushed your teeth, you caught him watching you from the doorway with a little smirk and a pencil tucked behind his ear.

“Don’t even think about it,” you mumbled, mouth full of foam.

He laughed. “Too late. Already halfway through sketchin’ yer grumpy wee face.”

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clarkeysbedchem · 1 month ago

Text

damsel in distress

alfie buttle x fem reader

summary: you’re scared of spiders and alfie is the designated spider capturer

materlist | main masterlist

The living room was warm from the linger of the hot day that had slowly drifted away, and the soft buzz of the TV murmured lowly in the background filling the silence of the grotto.

You were curled into the corner of Alfie’s worn sofa with a blanket draped you’re your lap as you scrolled aimlessly through your phone. The Grotto felt peaceful on nights like this, your boyfriend having wandered off for a shower ten minutes ago, leaving the bathroom door open wide so he could shout random thoughts at you over the sound of running water.

You glanced up from your phone for a second as your eyes caught a flicker of movement near the armchair across the room. Something skittering low across the floor, too fast and too leggy for your liking.

You shot up straight, heart immediately racingm “No,” you whispered to yourself, “No, no, no.”

You bravely tiptoed over to where the spec had ran to and peek under the chair, already knowing you’d regret it.

And there it was. The biggest spider you had ever seen. It had to be the size of your hand and it was just sitting there.

You let out a yelp, a little louder than you had intended. Realistically, could’ve been classed as a scream from the sheer volume and panic that echoed through the grotto.

Not even a full minute passed by before Alfie tumbled into the room, water still dripping from his hair, a towel barely hanging on to his hips.

“What? What?! Are you alright? What happened?”

You were already on the sofa, standing on the arm, one hand pointing frantically toward the armchair like it’s on fire, “There’s a spider! Under the chair! It’s huge! Alf, I’m not kidding, it’s fucking massive!”

He paused, still panting slightly from the run, eyes darting to where you’re pointing and he just laughed. An amused, loud, and unhelpful laugh.

“You screamed like you were getting murdered, twat,” he commented, a stupid grin taking place on his face as he walked over to take a look, “It’s just a spider.”

“Just a spider?” you shrieked, “It’s monstrous! It has a face. It looked straight at me.”

He snorted, wandering over to the kitchen for a moment before returning with a glass and a bit of card, “Yeah, alright. I’ll save you. Try not to pass out.”

He crouched beside the chair, muttering something under his breath about you being a drama queen and how it was more scared of you than you were of it – to which you just rolled your eyes – and he carefully scooped the spider with the glass sliding the card underneath with slow precision.

You watched with wide eyes, still standing on the sofa as if another spider was gonna appear from under the sofa.

“See? Easy.” He straightened up with the glass in hand, the spider visible inside it.

You saw the cogs turning in his head and then the bastard took a few steps toward you, holding the glass out like an offering.

You screamed again, hitting your head on the slopped ceiling nearly falling off the arm of the sofa.

“Alfie! Stop it! I will actually kill you!”

He was full-on belly laughing now, the towel around his hips slipping down slightly as he doubles over, still holding the cup far away from himself but close enough to make you feel personally victimised.

“Alright, alright, I’ll be nice,” he managed through his laughter, finally heading toward the front door, “You’re cute when you’re scared.”

You glared at him, clutching a pillow to your chest for emotional support as you sat back down.

He opened the door gently setting the spider free before turning back to you, smirking as he closes the door behind him, “It’s gone. Crisis averted.”

“Tell your towel to hang on tighter next time you come running to save me,” you muttered, still glaring at him, grabbing your phone off the coffee table.

He raised a teasing eyebrow, “Jealous of the spider now, are we?”

You took the pillow from your lap and threw it at him which he caught effortlessly with a soft laugh.

taglist: @jamiekluivert @roc-haze @whisperturnedecho @graceln4 @dopeysunflowers @super-gay-for-u @bethorwhateverr @livvymd @lilyyxoii @4ngelrealm @kiyoomology @canyouseethesainz @happyclifford @golden-hoax @tatumrileyslover @madforgeorge @wherethezoes-at @themdera @xlovergirlx @smzyyx @bowielovesyou @pretendyoucantseeme @elhotchner @duolingofanaccount @pookietv @ooostarwarsfandom501st @triplefrontierbabe @formulaal @artvscvntymullet

requested by: @graceln4

#clarkeysbedchem #ab x fem reader #ab fluff #alfie buttle fluff #alfie buttle x fem reader #alfie buttle #george clarkey #willne #chrismd #arthur hill #italianbach #arthurtv #uk yt #ukyt #british youtubers

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xxsyluslittlecrowxx · 8 days ago

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isekai and in over my head.

chapter one | congratulations, you've died again.

it starts with you waking up in what might be a coma, probably isn’t a otome game, and is definitely not your life. It ends with five dangerously attractive men forming an unofficial committee to keep you alive, loved, and under constant emotional surveillance.

ABOUT | 3.1k words. f!reader x 5 LI (non-romance so far). slice of life.

TAGS | isekai. for shits and giggles. flirting. banter. fluff. survivors guilt.

NOTE: i’ve been spiraling a bit—writing, life, family stuff. so i’m putting angst on pause for now. i just want to write something light, a little unhinged, maybe even fun. here’s a side of me you probably haven’t met. either way, let’s laugh a little.

INDEX | chapter one ✧ chapter two ✧ chapter three ✧

chapter one | congratulations, you've died again.

THE FIRST THING...I noticed was the light.

Not warm sunlight. Not even the dim, flickering sort that hums overhead in hospitals. This was harsher—clinical, fluorescent—like someone had screwed neon tubes directly into my skull. It sliced through my eyelids in angles too precise, too sharp, and far too awake for whatever this was.

I groaned.

My head didn’t hurt, not exactly. It just felt... full. Like someone had replaced my brain with a bag of cotton wool and static. My mouth was dry, my tongue unfamiliar, clumsy against my teeth. My hands twitched beneath me, brushing against something cold and unwelcoming—metal, maybe. Or concrete. Hard to say. My brain hadn’t quite caught up to the part where things had weight and texture.

For a long, uncertain moment, I just lay there. Staring.

The sky above me wasn’t blue.

It was a pale, silvery sheen, streaked with bright, swirling fractures—like someone had smashed a mirror and scattered the shards across the clouds. They hung there, glinting, suspended in air like pieces of broken glass refusing to fall.

Which, all things considered, wasn’t ideal.

Around me, the skyline stretched upward in angles that didn’t quite make sense—black spires, too smooth, too symmetrical, like a fever dream of the future. Buildings that shimmered with their own light. Towering structures that bent the laws of physics just enough to make my stomach turn.

And the ships.

They hovered midair, motionless yet humming. Too steady for helicopters, too sleek for jets. Like someone had redrawn the rules of flight while I wasn’t looking.

Okay.

I closed my eyes again.

Deep breath. In. Hold. Out.

This was fine. This was probably fine.

Because obviously, it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. No version of reality I knew included silver skies or floating ships or buildings shaped like knives. Which left me with one of three options:

One: Dream.

Two: Coma.

Three: Hallucination.

I went with coma. It sounded marginally less embarrassing than hallucinating a sci-fi skyline. People fell into comas all the time and woke up in places their brains had cobbled together from memory, TV shows, and the occasional Reddit spiral. Right? It happened.

Because the alternative—the one brushing against the frayed edges of my thoughts—was just too absurd.

I swallowed.

The absurd thing had a name.

Love and Deepspace.

No. Absolutely not.

I shook my head. Or tried to. It was like moving through syrup. My body wasn’t quite mine yet.

This wasn’t that. This was just... brain noise. A side effect of too many sleepless nights and maybe a mildly enthusiastic mobile game phase. That was all. People dreamed about video games all the time. That didn’t mean I’d somehow ended up inside one. That would be ridiculous.

So ridiculous, in fact, that my heart was starting to beat a little too fast just thinking about it.

I sat up slowly. The ground beneath me tilted, a slow, nauseating see-saw. Balance wobbled, but held.

Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed—sharp, synthetic bursts echoing against the skyline like a warning shot. I turned toward the sound.

Figures moved in careful formations, small as ants against the horizon. Uniformed, some of them. Black silhouettes flitting between metal towers, fast and focused, like they knew exactly what they were doing.

I squinted.

Pain bloomed behind my eyes, a quiet, steady throb—don’t look too hard.

Another breath. Shallower this time.

Dream. Coma. Hallucination.

Pick one.

The air tasted like metal.

That strange, sterile tang—part scorched wire, part hospital corridor. Somewhere nearby, something sizzled. A pulse of heat rolled through the street like an aftershock, brushing against my skin with the vague threat of combustion.

I pushed myself upright, limbs reluctant but intact. This time, my knees held. Small victories. I’d take them.

A voice rang out in the distance—male, sharp, cutting through the static of my thoughts.

“—Pipsqueak!”

I didn’t flinch.

It wasn’t for me. Obviously. Why would it be?

Another burst of static cracked above. A ripple of... something—energy? reality?—shimmered across the silver sky like heat on asphalt. My brain tried to explain it, failed, and quietly replaced the gaps with white noise. I moved forward. Or wandered, really—aiming vaguely for the direction that seemed least likely to kill me.

“Pipsqueak!”

There it was again. Closer this time.

A chill climbed my spine.

I slowed. My heart stuttered in its rhythm, and logic gave up entirely.

Just look. Not hard, not long—just enough to confirm this is all a mistake.

I turned.

And froze.

He was running toward me.

And by he, I mean him. The man. The myth. The military-grade mistake of my emotionally stunted dreams. The colonel. The fan edit. The character who had no business being that hot in a pixelated cutscene.

Caleb.

And—dear god—it was really him.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink. I just stood there, limp and blinking and deeply malfunctioning, as he sprinted toward me across the broken street like the chaos was just backdrop and he’d been waiting for his cue.

His boots hit the ground like a metronome. His coat flared behind him like it had been programmed to. And that face—that face—wore the expression. The one he always had right before everything went to hell: intense, focused, softer than it had any right to be. Brow furrowed just enough to look concerned. Jaw set. Eyes sharp enough to slice through time itself.

And then—swear to god—I heard it.

That song.

The edit song. The one with the slow drum and the breathy vocals that every Caleb stan on the internet had synced to his most dramatic cutscenes. The one where the MC catches him mid-fall, wounded but weightless, the entire galaxy burning behind them.

Somewhere in the back of my brain, a full string section began to swell.

I actually shook my head. “Stop it,” I muttered, half out loud. “Get a grip.”

It didn’t help.

Because the way he was looking at me—as if the universe had cracked open and I was the only piece left that mattered—was exactly like the game.

He shouted something again. I didn’t catch the word. Just the sound of it: urgent. Certain.

I stumbled back a step.

Because this wasn’t some lookalike. This wasn’t some glitch of the coma-dream matrix. This wasn’t fan art or hallucination.

This was him.

Real. Undeniable. Breathtakingly—infuriatingly—three-dimensional.

Which meant… which meant…

I swallowed hard. My throat rebelled. My palms had gone slick.

He was almost close enough now that I could see the shift of his muscles beneath that damn coat. The way each step sent a ripple of motion through his body, grounded and graceful, like even gravity didn’t want to get in his way. His boots struck pavement with military certainty. His voice carried like a commandment.

He was real.

Too real.

This wasn’t a face cobbled together from bad lighting and wishful thinking. This wasn’t the result of scrolling too many fan pages at 2 a.m. He had weight. Presence. Light clung to his skin like it didn’t want to let go. His voice resonated. His gaze held.

And me?

I wanted to drool.

Right there. Mid-apocalypse. Mouth open. Brain buffering. One click away from falling flat on my face in front of an emotionally unavailable fictional war god.

I was about to be scooped up into the arms of a man who, for all intents and purposes, wasn’t supposed to exist—except with abs that could end world peace and a voice that sounded like safety and sin rolled into one muscular, tactical daydream.

He was nearly upon me when survival instincts kicked in—and promptly malfunctioned.

So I did the only thing that made sense.

I shut my eyes, slapped my face, and hoped I’d pass out.

I didn't.

The sting rang out louder than expected. My palm left a warm print across my cheek, and my dignity evaporated on contact.

When I opened my eyes again, he was there.

Right there.

Towering over me like a verdict.

“Pipsqueak.”

His voice was lower now, wrapped in something between relief and reprimand. Like someone who’d been holding his breath too long and only just remembered how to exhale.

I stared up at him, utterly silent.

Because what exactly do you say to a man who thinks he knows you better than anyone in the universe—when you’ve only ever known him through a screen?

“Are you hurt?” he asked, already reaching for me. “Did you hit your head?”

Yes. On the pavement of delusion.

“No,” I said quickly, even though my voice cracked like it had been in storage since 1998. “I mean—yes. Maybe. I don't know.”

His hands found me before I could back away.

One cupped the side of my face, angling it gently toward the light. The other hovered under my elbow, like I was something fragile—something that might fall apart if left unattended for too long.

Which wasn’t... inaccurate.

But his touch. God.

Warm. Grounded. Steady. So deliberate, like he’d done this before. Like this was muscle memory. Like he’d held this face in his hands a hundred times—knew it from the curve of the brow to the line of the jaw.

I couldn’t breathe.

And I couldn’t lie, either. Not well. Not under pressure. My face was a glitching disaster of emotions—shock, awe, guilt, and a flash of something primal I will not be taking questions on at this time.

He misread it, of course.

“Still in shock,” he murmured, brushing a thumb over my cheekbone.

I shivered. Not helpfully.

“You're freezing.”

No. I was combusting. Actively boiling inside my skin. My bones were sweating. If he touched me for one more second, I’d melt straight through the pavement.

“Pips, your vitals are all over the place,” he said, checking some kind of wrist scanner he’d unclipped with infuriating efficiency. “You must've been close when the second pulse from the rift hit.”

Second pulse? Rift hit? The hell was he talking about...

My brain could not compute. It was juggling too much: his nearness, his impossible voice, the nickname he kept using like it belonged to me.

“Stop calling me that,” I said.

Too sharp. Reflexive.

He blinked. His hands stilled, but didn’t fall away.

My breath caught.

And then, without thinking, I moved.

I pushed him.

It wasn’t dramatic. Not even forceful. Just a small, shaky shove to the chest—barely enough to make him step back. But he did. Instantly. Like the spell broke the second I touched it.

We stared at each other.

His face shifted. Only a little. A flicker of confusion, chased by something quieter. Something dangerously close to hurt.

“I'm sorry,” I blurted. “I just—don't touch me.”

It came out worse than it felt.

Inside, I was clawing at my own ribs, trying to make space to think. His closeness had short-circuited something critical.

He straightened slowly. Not offended. Just... recalibrating.

“Alright,” he said softly. “No touching.”

The way he said it—careful, like it hurt—made my stomach twist.

Like he'd done something wrong.

Like I had.

“I didn't mean—” I started, but the words tangled and fell apart in my mouth before they could reach air.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

He wasn’t supposed to exist. Not like this. Not with real muscles and real warmth and real concern folding into every breath. He was supposed to be code. Character art. A game.

And yet, somehow, he was looking at me like I’d just broken his heart with one uncertain step.

He stepped back. Half a pace. Just enough to give me room. Just enough to let the cold rush in.

“It's okay,” he said. “We can talk about it later...”

His voice was softer now. Like I was made of glass, and he’d already heard the first crack.

He turned his head, muttered something into a comm clipped to his collar. I caught fragments—medical, stabilized, containment zone—but none of it landed.

I stood there, adrift in my own body.

Because he thought I was her.

The real her. The MC.

And I... wasn’t.

Not the one who’d grown up with him, trained beside him, made him laugh, made him stay. Not the one who teased him into softening, or shattered him just enough to help him heal.

That was her story.

Not mine.

But he didn’t know that.

And I couldn’t tell him.

Because if I did, I might lose the look on his face.

This softness. This impossible tenderness—woven through ash and urgency and dust and dread.

So I said nothing.

Besides, I needed answers. How I got here. And—if it was even possible—how to get home.

Caleb turned his head again, murmuring into his comms, his voice clipped now—brisk, efficient, all that earlier warmth folded beneath military precision.

“Secure the perimeter. Prep evac. She's coming with me—yes, I'll bring her in for assessment. Zayne's on standby, right?”

I blinked.

Zayne?

The name hit like a spark to dry kindling.

My head whipped up. “Wait—did you just say—?”

But he was still talking, still barking words I couldn’t follow—containment, bio-signal, integrity, elevated charge—his mouth moving around the vocabulary of a world I wasn’t supposed to be in.

I took a step forward, breath lodged high in my throat.

Did he just say Zayne?

As in... ZAYNE?

As in Doctor Zayne?

As in sweet-tooth, sharp-witted, god-tier-with-a-scalpel Zayne? The one with the voice like melted chocolate and hands that made the fandom lose structural integrity?

As in Dawnbreaker Daddy?

I stared at Caleb, genuinely unraveling.

Because that name wasn’t background noise. That name was legend. That name wore glasses and saved lives with one hand while tearing through enemies with the other. That name had a two-part origin myth, a drop rate lower than mercy, and an entire corner of the internet dedicated to his jawline.

And now he was apparently… on standby?

Like this was just a normal Thursday?

“What—”

A sharp beep cut through the air.

Then another. Then a rising whine, mechanical and shrill—like a futuristic kettle winding itself up to panic.

I looked down.

A device. Strapped to my wrist. Sleek and unfamiliar, pulsing blue at the edges. Numbers scrolled across the surface—fast, tight, cryptic. A countdown? Coordinates? Diagnostics?

“What the hell is that?” I muttered, mostly to myself.

Caleb turned.

No—snapped.

He crossed the space between us in two strides, wrapping one hand around my wrist and lifting it for a better look. His eyes scanned the display, jaw tightening.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Metaflux spike. Too soon.”

I wasn’t sure whether to be worried, terrified, or offended that metaflux wasn't just a word in a game, but a real thing in my current reality.

Before I could settle on a reaction, he looked at me again—different now. Sharper. Command-mode fully engaged.

“You still have your handgun?”

I blinked. “My what?”

“Your sidearm. On your thigh.”

“My gun?”

He gestured—two fingers, quick and precise—toward my leg like it was obvious.

I followed his gaze.

And choked.

Strapped to my thigh—like a casual accessory—was a matte black firearm. Sleek. Polished. Very real. It hugged the curve of my leg like it had always been there. Like I belonged with it.

My stomach flipped.

I hadn’t even noticed it. I had a gun. I had a gun.

I. Had. A. Gun.

“Okay,” I breathed. “Okay. That's... a lot.”

Caleb’s face didn’t shift, but something eased slightly around his eyes. Like he registered the rising panic and adjusted for it in real-time.

“I know your head's still scrambled,” he said, calm and even. “But we don't have time. Wanderers are breaking through the breach.”

Wanderers.

As in the actual nightmare fuel from the game?

The voidborn horrors with spindly limbs and glowing mouths and movement patterns that made your skin crawl?

I swallowed.

Hard.

This wasn’t funny anymore.

(Okay, it had stopped being funny about three hallucinations ago, but this was now fully entering run-screaming-into-the-sunset territory.)

Caleb saw it—the shallow breath, the inching step backward, the way my fingers curled like I could vanish into my own palms.

And to his credit, he didn’t flinch. Didn’t push. He just stood there—still, grounded. Like he’d wait forever if I needed him to.

“You're safe with me,” he said quietly.

And I hated—hated—that it helped.

That those four words landed somewhere deep and shaking. That they loosened something I hadn’t realized I was holding. That they made me want to believe him, even though everything in me screamed don't.

It wasn’t the words.

It was the way he said them.

Not we'll keep you safe. Not you'll be fine. But you're safe with me.

It was personal.

It was protective.

It was too much.

I didn’t say anything. Just nodded.

Once.

Because if I opened my mouth, I might scream.

Caleb shifted beside me, speaking into his comm again—voice low, clipped, all business.

But I wasn’t listening anymore.

The air had changed.

Not the temperature. Not the pressure. Something else. Something… off. Sharper. Thinner. Like reality itself had sucked in a breath—and forgotten how to exhale.

Then the light bent.

Not dramatically. Not with thunder or fanfare. Just a shimmer—subtle, glassy—like a mirage on hot pavement.

Except it moved against the breeze.

Wrong.

Wrong in a way that prickled across my skin like static. Like instinct. Like the deepest part of my brain had already decided we are not supposed to see this.

Caleb snapped to attention. “Get behind me.”

And then I saw it.

The tear opened twenty meters out—ripping clean through the air like a mouth mid-scream. A sickly blue glow spilled from the breach, curling around something moving.

No—emerging.

Limbs.

Not arms. Not legs. Limbs. Jointed too many times. Bent in ways bones should never bend. Skin like wax stretched over sinew, too smooth, too long. It pulled itself from the rift as if being born—and hating every second of it.

A Wanderer.

An actual, canon-accurate, Wanderer.

And up close?

It wasn’t just nightmare fuel. It was too real.

Flickering sigils twisted across its body, pulsing with something foul and alive. Its face—or whatever it had instead—turned toward us, blind but searching. It clicked.

Once. Twice.

Like bone tapping bone.

Caleb stepped in front of me.

I didn’t move.

I couldn’t.

Because my body had gone ice cold from the inside out.

This wasn’t a cutscene.

There was no turn order. No dodge button. No pull to restart.

The creature roared.

Sound cracked through the sky like a warning shot from hell itself. The ground shook. Caleb raised his weapon.

And me?

I just stared, lips parting, voice flat with disbelief as my nervous system gave up entirely.

“Oh, fuck no.”

To be continued...

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mrs-delaney · 30 days ago

Text

Fourth Quarter Focus

Request: Need a one-shot where Joe is having a rough game and looks up at the suite and sees like yelling about a bad play or something and he hates that shes upset they are losing so he like gets more motivated to win?

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Short N' Sweet 1.1k

♡ read my masterlist ♡

The scoreboard felt like a weight pressing down on Joe’s shoulders. 31-24, Ravens. The fourth quarter had eight minutes left, and nothing had gone right all night. His passes were off by inches that felt like miles, the pocket had collapsed more times than he cared to count, and the crowd’s energy had shifted from electric to anxious.

Joe wiped his hands on his towel, jaw tight as he tried to shake off the interception that had just sealed their fate, or so it felt. The defense was walking off the field, heads down, and he could feel the weight of seventy thousand people holding their breath.

But it wasn’t the crowd that made him glance up toward the suites.

It was instinct, maybe. Or maybe it was how his chest had been tight all game, like something was pulling at him that he couldn’t name. His eyes found the familiar section, scanning until he saw you.

And his stomach dropped.

You were on your feet, face flushed with frustration. Even from the field, he could see the tension in your shoulders, the way you were gesturing at someone beside you, probably his mom, trying to calm you down. Your mouth was moving, and he didn’t need to hear the words to know what you were saying. He’d seen that expression before, usually directed at refs on TV when you watched games at home.

You were worked up, the same way you got at home when you shouted at the TV, convinced the refs might listen.

Joe looked away, his hands clenching around his helmet.

He hated it.

He hated that you were up there feeling every missed pass, every sack, every point they were behind. Hated that his bad night was bleeding into yours. You’d probably barely eaten today; too nervous about the game. You’d probably spent twenty minutes deciding between your custom Bengals gear, the way you always did before games. And now you were watching him fail, watching the team struggle, and taking it all to heart like it was somehow your fault for not cheering loud enough.

The thought made something twist in his chest, sharp and uncomfortable.

“Burrow.” Coach Taylor’s voice cut through his spiral. “You good?”

Joe’s eyes snapped back to the huddle forming around him. His teammates were looking at him, waiting. Ja’Marr was saying something about the next play, but Joe wasn’t hearing it.

He glanced up at the suite one more time. You’d sat back down, but your hands were clasped tight in your lap, and even from this distance, he could see the worry written in every line of your body.

“Yeah,” Joe said, his voice steady in a way that surprised him. “I’m good.”

But he wasn’t just good. Something had shifted. The weight on his shoulders was still there, but it felt different now. You were up there, still believing in him, even when he’d given you every reason not to. You wore his name and felt every play like it mattered, because he mattered to you.

The least he could do was give you something to cheer about.

“Trips right, Y-option,” Joe called out in the huddle, his voice cutting through the noise. “Ja’Marr, I need you to sit in that soft spot at fifteen. Tee, clear out the safety. We’re going to work.”

His tone was different, something that made his teammates stand a little straighter. Ja’Marr grinned, the kind of grin that meant trouble for the other team.

“There’s Joe Burr,” Ja’Marr said, clapping Joe on the shoulder pad.

The next drive was different. Joe’s passes were sharp and precise, finding gaps in the defense like he was threading needles. Fifteen yards to Ja’Marr. Twelve to Tee. A scramble for eight when the pocket collapsed, sliding just before the safety could light him up.

With each completion, the energy in the stadium shifted. His focus snapped back into place. Familiar. This was who he was. This was what he did.

They scored with four minutes left. 31-31.

Joe jogged to the sideline and glanced up. You were standing now, face bright, cheering and laughing with his mom. Both of you looked relieved, caught up in the rush of the moment.

The tightness in his chest eased just a little.

The defense forced a three-and-out. Two minutes left. Joe took the field with the same quiet confidence that had carried him through college championships and playoff runs. The same calm that made his teammates believe, even when the odds were stacked against them.

“Let’s fucking finish this,” he said in the huddle, and nobody doubted him.

The final drive was methodical. Surgical. Joe picked apart the defense piece by piece, using every tool in his arsenal. A quick slant to Boyd. A comeback route to Higgins. A perfectly placed ball to Chase in the corner of the end zone with thirty-seven seconds left.

38-31, Bengals.

As the crowd erupted, Joe found himself looking up at the suite again almost automatically. You were jumping, your hands in the air, your face bright with joy. You were saying something to his mom, probably about the throw, probably analyzing it the way you always did after games.

He felt his face relax into a real smile for the first time since kickoff.

After the game, the interviews, the handshakes, and the slow process of coming down from the high, Joe made his way up to the family area. You were there waiting, still in your custom Bengals gear, still buzzing with excitement.

“That throw to Ja’Marr in the third quarter—” you started, but Joe cut you off, pulling you into a hug that was tighter than usual, longer than usual.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said, and he meant it. “Just… saw you getting worked up earlier. In the suite.”

You pulled back to look at him, your eyebrows raised. “You could see that? From the field?”

“I can always see you,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Something soft flickered across your face. “I wasn’t that worked up.”

“You were on your feet yelling at someone. Probably the ref.”

“…Maybe the ref.”

Joe’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “You don’t have to get upset when we’re losing. It’s just a game.”

“It’s not just a game to you,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “So it’s not just a game to me.”

The words caught him off guard. He met your eyes and saw the honesty there. You carried his wins and losses, not out of obligation but because you wanted to.

“I’ve got press,” he said, his hand finding yours and quickly squeezing it. “Wait for me?”

As you walked out side by side, Joe realized he could breathe again. You were with him, and that’s all he needed.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow fluff #nfl fan fic #nfl fanfic #nfl fanfiction #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smut #nfl imagine #nfl x reader #nfl smut

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loserboysandlithium · 1 year ago

Text

Just Friends: Eddie Munson One shot

⚠️Explicit sexual content. Minors DNI⚠️

Summary: You have a friends with benefits situation with Eddie but he wants you to admit that he owns you.

Word count 1.8k

*****

"We're just friends, Eddie." you say for what feels like the hundredth time.

There was nothing about your relationship that was just friends. Late night snuggles, constant flirting and touching, Eddie's clothes basically belonged to you at this point. Not to mention the sexual favors. But you were always worried about changing the label to something more. Scared it would mess things up. But Eddie wanted more. And truthfully, so did you.

It had started with a drunken make out session one night, quickly turning to both of you needing more. A month later and you've touched each other in every way possible. Apart from going all the way. But you both wanted it. Needed it.

“Just friends." he scoffs, scooting closer to you on the couch.

"Mhmm.." you hum nonchalantly, keeping your eyes glued to the TV.

"Why won't you just admit that we're more than friends, baby?" he pouts, gripping your chin lightly, forcing your eyes to meet his. Those big brown eyes.

"Do friends do this?" he whispers, leaning in closer, his soft lips pressing against yours.

"Sometimes I kiss Trina when we're drunk." you tease and he chuckles against your lips.

“I'd like to see that." he smirks.

"I bet you would." you giggle and he shakes his wild hair before burying his face in your neck.

"How about this? Do friends do this?" he mumbles, planting wet kisses up and down your neck.

"Hmm.. maybe." you breathe, letting your head fall back to the couch, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips on your skin. Sucking and nipping. Driving you completely insane already.

"You're a brat, you know that?" he grumbles, biting down, his teeth sinking into your neck.

"Mmm, you like me this way." you moan softly as he soothes the bite with his tongue.

You inhale sharply as you feel his hand land on your inner thigh. His fingers graze along your skin until he reaches your already damp panties.

"Friends?" he raises an eyebrow, pushing the thin lace to the side.

You ignore him purposefully, gasping as his thumb meets your clit, adding pressure as he begins to tease you with small circles.

"Eddie.." you whimper, reaching out, gripping the back of his neck so you can pull his lips back to yours.

He moans into the kiss as you roll your hips, working to get his fingers inside of you. His tongue meets yours hungrily as he gives in and glides two fingers into your pussy.

You both pant into each others mouths as he speeds up his fingers, effortlessly bringing you closer to the high you were so desperately aching for.

He pulls away breathless, an immediate cry falling from your lips as soon as he parts.

"So close.. Eds, I'm so close." you whine, nails digging into the back of his neck as he curls his long fingers.

"Do friends do this, baby?" he hums deeply, working with precision, his fingers like fucking magic as he takes you right to the edge.

"N-no." you stammer. Eddie suddenly removes his fingers, leaving you pissed off and pouty.

“Eddie, what the fuck?" you glare at him.

"We're just friends." he chuckles darkly.

"You're impossible." you groan, quickly hiking your skirt up and straddling his lap on the couch.

You bring your arms around his neck, tangling your hands in his brown curls as you lower yourself down and slowly begin to grind. You feel his hard cock beneath you, making sure to grind directly on his dick.

"Don’t be a tease, sweets." he warns.

"I know you want me, Eddie." you purr, keeping your pace, rolling your hips slowly.

"Like.. all of you?" His taunting demeanor has melted into a puddle as you tease him with the one thing he hasn't had yet.

"Mhmm... you want to fuck me, Eds?"

"Y-yes." he stutters, his hands creeping up the back of your thighs, landing on your ass.

"We’re just friends, right?" you tease, adding a little more pressure to his clothed cock.

"Yep. Mhmm.. Just friends. Whatever you say." he blurts out happily, making you smile.

"Good boy." you taunt, watching as Eddie's eyes darken just a bit. His fingertips dig into your skin pulling you down even closer, the thin material of your panties allowing you to feel every curve of his cock.

"Someone's ready for me." you coo, reaching down and stroking him through his jeans. A rumble comes from his throat as you palm every inch of him.

"Are we- are we really gonna fuck?" he asks, excitement clear on his face. His big brown eyes are wide, a little pout on his plump lips as he waits for your answer. His large hands are still groping your ass. You stand up from his lap and slide your underwear off, letting them fall to the floor giving him a little nod.

Eddie grins widely, hurriedly reaching for his belt, unbuckling it with ease before wiggling out of his jeans. You climb back on his lap, keeping your skirt hiked up. You can feel him beneath you. Rock hard. Fucking huge. God, I can't wait to feel him inside of me.

You lean down to kiss him and he stops you suddenly. "I wanna see the girls." he grins crookedly, wiggling his eyebrows.

"You're so stupid." you shove his shoulder playfully as his hands pull at the hem of your shirt. You reach down pulling your Rolling Stones shirt from your frame, tossing it to the side.

Eddie's lips instantly latch onto your nipple making you moan. He brings his hand to your other breast massaging gently, rolling your nipple between his calloused fingers, sending a jolt straight to your pussy. He grabs your boobs, pressing them together as he swirls his tongue across both of your nipples, the throbbing sensation between your thighs growing with every flick.

"You're so perfect." he mumbles lustfully, his mouth exploring every part of your breasts. He takes his teeth, biting down softly, causing a sweet cry to fall from your lips.

You take his face in your hands, kissing him once again. The world seemed to fade away as soon as your lips made contact. It had become your favorite thing. Kissing him. Your tongues dancing together. His taste. The way he couldn't keep his hands to himself. He wanted to explore every inch of you.

You lift slightly, reaching under you, taking his cock in your hand. You keep your lips on his as you glide his head along your wet folds. You wanted to kiss him but you also wanted to hear him. His dirty sounds. You couldn't decide what would be better.

You keep your lips brushing against his as you gently lower yourself down, the feeling of him stretching you out already has your thighs shaking. Both of your lips part simultaneously, a gasp from you, a filthy fucking moan from him as you sink down and he fills you completely.

Your name leaves Eddie's mouth in a raspy moan as you start to roll your hips, feeling him deep inside. "Oh fuck, Eddie.."

“You feel so good.. ride my cock, baby. Just like that." Eddie's words of encouragement and the pure pleasure of him inside of you pushes you to increase your speed, grinding on his huge cock wildly.

You ignore the slight pain from his size, focusing on Eddie. Watching as he falls apart beneath you. His hand suddenly smacks your ass hard, the sting making you yelp.

"God, this pussy. I fucking knew you'd be sweet. So fucking good. So fuckin’ wet." he grunts as his fingertips dig in even deeper, guiding you up and down his length, making you bounce.

"You're.. you're so big." you cry, bouncing wildly, allowing him to enter fully every time, your slick coating every inch of him. Eddie begins to lift his hips, fucking up into you rapidly as you rest your hands on his shoulders. "F-Fuck.. yes.. Eddie!"

“You like that? You like when your friend fucks you?"

You just nod, unable to speak as he drives into you again and again.

"Do you let all your friends fuck you like this?" he taunts, swiftly picking you up, laying you down on the couch, his dick staying buried deep.This new position gives him leverage to really pound into you. His hands rest on either side of your face as he rolls his hips, slamming into you repeatedly, your boobs bouncing with every wild thrust.

You grasp for him, nails digging into his exposed skin, your eyes struggle to stay open as he takes you over and over.

He hooks your leg on his hip, gripping your thigh tightly, holding it in place as you sink deeper into the couch cushions.

"I- oh my god, Eddie!" his name pours from your lips on repeat as your eyes begin to roll.

“Fucking look at you. Mmm.. gonna make you cum all over my cock. You wanna cum, baby?"

You nod, pulling him closer, aiming to get his lips on yours once again. He brings his fingers to your clit, swiping across rapidly, sending your body into a fit. You grip his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist, doing everything in your power to feel him as close as possible.

"Gonna cum.. cum with me. Eddie, cum inside me." you beg, tears flooding your vision from the immense pleasure.

"You want all your friends to cum inside you? Hmm?" he grunts, every thrust is rougher than before. Deeper. Harder.

“No, Eddie! Only you." you cry.

"I'm gonna fill you with my cum, sweetheart. Like a good friend does." he laughs wickedly, his words pushing you to the brink.

"Please..." you plead, tears streaming down your cheeks from trying to hold back. You want him to cum with you.

"You want me, baby? You want me to cum inside you?" In and out, in and out. He's hitting your sweet spot with every roll of his hips, his fingers never resting, quickly rubbing across your clit.

"Yes! Yes, Eddie please!" you scream, your legs shaking wildly, your back arches off the couch, bodies melding together.

"Tell me that you're mine." he burns.

“I'm yours." you breathe.

"Yeah? All mine? Say it again, sweetheart."

"I'm yours, Eddie! All yours!"

"Cum.. cum for me, baby. Soak my fuckin’ cock.”

You let go completely at his words, feeling the rush as your orgasm floods your body and you flood his cock. His lips are on you, kissing your lips, your cheeks, your neck as you spasm around his cock.

Mumbles of adoration and praise come from his plump lips as he fucks you to your highest peak.

"E-Eddie.." you whimper, still needing to feel him.

"Gonna cum, sweet girl." he hums before his lips land on yours, kissing you deeply as his thrusts get sloppy, wet sounds from your drenched pussy making him moan as he gives a few extra hard thrusts, emptying himself inside of you.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as Eddie continues thrusting slowly. Feeling the warmth of your cum mixed together.

"Yours, Eds. I'm yours." you reassure softly, watching that gorgeous smile spread on his lips.

"Fuck yeah you are." he cheeses, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson one shot

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ieidolon · 11 months ago

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two thoughts:

1. shao yiyou's kicked puppy face whenever shao yiliang ""confirms"" that they're really brothers is soooo funny to me.

2. shao yiliang is a money-motivated little gremlin and i love him so much

#precise shot tv #precise shot #cdrama

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jikookuntold · 3 months ago

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The Untold Stories of “Are You Sure!?”

I know it's been quite some time since Jikook's travel show, Are You Sure?, aired on Disney+, and I've been wanting to share my thoughts about it here ever since. After watching the entire series twice, I've finally organized my reflections and found time to put them into words. Without further preamble or disclaimer, let's dive right in.

I’m Not Sure…

I must admit that a duo trip for Jikook and a reality show based on it wasn’t in the most optimistic Jikookers’ bingo card. But we got it in the best way possible, a whole Disney+ series with some of the most beautiful, meaningful, and intimate Jikook moments to gush about for years. Through the eight episodes, we saw them talking sweetly, laughing together, cuddling and touching intimately, being domestic, and taking care of each other. I can talk about those moments for hours, but I know many Jikookers have done it in the past few months, and I’m going to look at this show from a different point of view; What does this show add to our Jikookery encyclopedia?

For new fans, this show can be a guide to know more about Jikook’s real and special bond, but for veteran Jikookers like us, maybe there was not much new information. We cherished seeing them together, enjoyed their sweet moments, and learned more unknown facts about them and their dynamics. You may say we already knew how inseparable and couply they are and have been familiar with their domestic nature. But was that all we perceived from AYS, or we can go deeper and find more? Yes, there is always more to see without hallucination or delusion.

First of all, keep in mind that AYS is a TV show after all, and we know TV shows, including reality shows, can be scripted. These shows are often filmed and edited in ways that emphasize specific narratives or push certain agendas. I’ve discussed the topic of "Scripts in BTS Content" before (link) and concluded that the narratives in BTS reality shows, especially the paid ones, aren’t far from the members’ real dynamics, making them largely authentic. However, in the case of AYS, we have even more solid proof of this authenticity: Jimin and JK themselves confirmed that we see them as they are in the show.

But the thing is, what we saw in the show wasn't everything. No matter how honest and authentic they try to be, approximately 96% of the footage had to be edited out to condense an eight-day trip into less than ten hours of television series. This percentage would be even higher if we accounted for duplicate shots from multiple cameras and repeated scenes - though there's no precise way to calculate this. The truth remains: there was far more that went unseen, and I'm attempting to shed light on these untold stories from "Are You Sure?!"

USA

The first chapter of AYS was also the shortest, consisting of only two episodes, and it began with Jikook in New York, US. The timing of this trip was particularly interesting: JK traveled to the US on July 12th for his "Seven" promotions and GMA performance, and the next day, we saw Jimin at the airport heading to the same destination. Unofficial sources had announced that they were planning to film something together in New York - which turned out to be true, though not the full story. What many Jikookers overlooked was the significance of this moment for JK's career. As he embarked on his solo journey with a bold, sexy song and romantic music video, he clearly wanted Jimin by his side during this pivotal and stressful moment.

Meanwhile, Jimin’s presence beside JK served as crucial emotional support during this important moment in his career. While some might argue that Jimin similarly supported Hobi and Suga during their solo performances by traveling to the US, and JK is just another BTS member he loves and supports. But don’t forget that both times in August 2022 and May 2023 had coincided with Jimin’s own solo schedules in that country. This time, however, his trip had no purpose other than filming a potential travel show and simply being there for JK. This was when Jimin had just finished recording his second album, Muse, and "finally" had free time to spend with JK, plus, unlike Hobi and Yoongi’s solo performances, Jimin’s presence in New York for JK, wasn’t covered in the respective Bangtan Episode.

However, their journey immediately faced setbacks: JK's live performance was canceled due to heavy rain in New York, leaving him feeling gloomy, he even joked about being "cursed by water" on their first day. On the other hand, Jimin got sick and spent most of the day unwell, growing pessimistic about their show's prospects. Despite this streak of bad luck, they managed to uplift each other and enjoy being together. The second day told a different story, with Jimin feeling better and JK supposedly being happy about "Seven" topping the charts, their real dynamic emerged, leading to some of their most intimate moments. I’m sure you know which moments I’m talking about.

Okay, let's address the elephant in the room: “Jikook discussing how they hadn't seen each other”. Their conversation in the first episode about this separation raised questions about their dynamic during the solo era, specifically the period between the YTC Busan concert and the release of "Seven". Despite the inaccuracy in the official English subs for this part of the episode, I have to remind you, the era Jikook were talking about was when Jin and then Hobi enlisted in the military after releasing their farewell gifts for fans, Namjoon and Jimin released solo albums, and Yoongi embarked on a solo tour after his comeback.

At the same time, we stopped seeing Jikook together as frequently as before. This coincidence between the solo era activities and Jikook's so-called separation fueled conspiracy theories among haters, with claims like "Chapter two revealed the members' true relationships”. But we already had the answer to these claims: Jimin was working intensely on not one but two albums simultaneously, leaving him little time to spend with JK or anyone else outside his work. Meanwhile, JK had more free time, which explains why he was frequently seen socializing with various friends and acquaintances.

So, the question is: Did Jikook really not see each other for six, seven months? We witnessed them together at least four times during this period and it appears our definition of "not seeing each other" differs from Jikook’s. They were specifically referring to their inability to spend meaningful quality time together, which simply wasn't possible during that era. However, immediately after finishing recording his second album, Jimin went straight to JK to create new memories with him. Personally, I think parts of this "separation era" weren't solely due to busy schedules. At that time, they still were not sure about their upcoming enlisting situation, and perhaps they were trying to do a trial for their eventual military separation, but they failed miserably, ended up pining over each other. So, this result possibly leading to their joint enlistment decision. Of course, this remains just a theory and I could be entirely wrong, and the simpler explanation might be Jimin's overwhelming workload at the time.

Now let's discuss the untold part of the story. After wrapping up their trip and filming, Jimin returned to South Korea on July 18th while JK remained in the US to depart for London the following day. Considering the time difference between Connecticut and South Korea, Jimin actually stayed for more night and day after filming concluded. This means they spent at least one full night and day together off-camera. Antoya, the New York restaurant, confirmed in an official post that Jimin and JK dined there twice, first time with cameras and staff and the second time without them, while the show included only brief footage from Antoya, mere seconds of them discussing JK's sore throat.

Based on their filming schedule, we can determine the second visit occurred after they returned to New York from Connecticut, following the completion of shooting. This confirms they enjoyed private time together, just the two of them. Jikook's time in the US wasn't just about their couple-like conversations during hikes or their casual touches on the boat or in bed. Their connection went much deeper: JK cared for Jimin when he was sick, prayed for his recovery, and prepared special meals for him. Similarly, Jimin supported JK through his stressful days, and as we realized by analyzing their travel schedules earlier, it was something that extended far beyond simply filming a show.

We never saw footage of Jikook's topless photo on the wharf or never witnessed how Jimin's nose got injured by JK's elbow in their sleep. While we were deprived of many potential moments, what we did receive were some of the most genuine and authentic episodes of the series. The impact of this trip on Jikook was big enough that we saw JK passionately discussing their experience on Suchitwa and begging Jimin to join his live just days after returning, the experience that was pleasant enough to motivated them to continue the show with more travel destinations.

Jeju

The next destination for Jikook’s travel show was Jeju Island in South Korea. These three episodes featured Taehyung accompanying Jikook, though his participation was included to the show only two days before filming began. While this last-minute addition sparked unnecessary controversy among some shippers, it’s important to recognize the benefits of Taehyung’s guest appearance; it proved that aside from the predetermined itinerary and props, nothing else about the show was scripted. Moreover, despite the presence of a third party, Jikook continued to display their unique and romantic connection - both on and off camera. Also, for viewers seeking an unbiased comparison of their dynamics, these episodes are valuable case studies.

Vminkook enjoyed numerous exciting activities in Jeju, from ocean fishing and kart racing to more mundane moments like shared meals, sleep, and playing together. Despite the Jeju episodes having the shortest average runtime (60 minutes compared to 63 and 77 minutes for the US and Sapporo) and including lengthy scenes like their 15-minute Japanese restaurant meal, we were still treated to precious Jikook moments. Highlights included their heartfelt conversation about enlisting together, the adorable pool scene, their casual cuddles in bed, and romantic interactions alongside playful bickering and roleplaying. These moments, authentic and unfiltered, reinforced just how deeply connected and inseparable they are, no matter who accompanies them.

Aside from what was shown on camera, there were some other interesting facts to notice. As we know, the Jeju filming officially began on September 26th and concluded on the 28th, just before Chuseok. I’m not sure if you were aware of the rumors from a credible source, about Jikook being spotted in Jeju during August that year, but I understand if you remain skeptical. Regardless of the rumor’s validity, Jimin himself confirmed their off-camera time together when he mentioned spending the night with JK right before departing for Jeju.

What makes this sleepover particularly special is the fact that JK had only arrived in Seoul the previous day, and we witnessed him rushing through the airport to go home. By his own admission, he hadn’t slept since landing, implying they stayed awake together all night. Even more intriguing, we later learned that Jikook received confirmation of their buddy system approval that same day. It’s highly likely they celebrated this news with a night of dining and drinks together alone—yet all we received was a vague mention in the show.

However, these off-camera moments extended far beyond their private date night. When JK’s mom mentioned Jimin twice during their phone call and inquired about their Chuseok reunion, the warmth of familial bonds was sensible. Throughout their trip, JK remained by Jimin’s side, even when Taehyung stepped away for personal activities, he lingered nearby even as Jimin slept, a quiet but telling detail. The show removed many intimate moments, for example the footage related to the iconic photobook image of JK proudly displaying Jimin’s name written in sunscreen on his belly. But I’m far from disappointed, if anything, I’m grateful for all the beautiful moments we got beyond our expectations.

Japan

As someone who doesn't particularly enjoy cold, snowy weather, I found these Sapporo episodes to be unexpectedly warm and sweet, and they left me emotionally attached. It's no surprise that Jikook themselves seemed to cherish this part of their travels most of all, as it marked their final trip before military enlistment. Japan has held special meaning for them since at least GCF in Tokyo, and winter has always been their favorite season. While their US trip presented some mishaps they weren't prepared for, and Jeju introduced a third party that altered their dynamic, Sapporo offered something different. Here, they seemed at ease - ready and willing to showcase their peak authentic, boyfriend behavior.

The Sapporo episodes featured some of the most memorable moments in the entire series, from their strolls along snowy sidewalks and playful antics on Sapporo's empty streets to listening to romantic songs while sharing AirPods on the train. Their indoor moments were also precious from playing and bickering to half naked Jacuzzi moments. At one point, Jimin remarked that is just how they are at home as laying on the floor singing, as JK effortlessly completing his verses like it is their everyday routine. Though their impending enlistment loomed in their thoughts and made the atmosphere bittersweet, these moments felt so natural and effortless.

There were so many sweet moments in these three episodes that I won’t be able to recount every one of them, I know you remember them as vividly as I do, and I cherish them all. As this post’s purpose suggests, I want to focus on the untold part of their Japan journey: Tokyo. We all saw them depart Seoul on November 23rd and return on the 28th, yet the three episodes of Japan only covered Sapporo. What went unshown were their two nights and two days in Tokyo. Yes, JK had his "Hate You" MV filming and an interview scheduled, but Jimin had no professional reason to accompany him, he could have joined JK later in Sapporo. Jimin was amid preparing Muse and might have used those days to rest or wrap up his work. Yet they chose to travel together, deliberately carving out private time away from cameras.

So, it's safe to say that the Tokyo portion of Jikook's Japan trip served as their private time together - a detail made even more meaningful by their personal history with the city. Throughout show promotions and commentary, they referenced their 2017 trip a few times, suggesting that they wanted to recreate those precious memories before enlistment. And so they did just for the two of them, preserving these new moments for themselves just as they had six years prior, never intended for filming or public viewing, and all we saw was a beautiful four-minute long edit created by JK himself, and of course Jimin��s sweet twitter edit. But this time, two photos of Jimin in Tokyo presumably taken by JK was all that we were allowed to see.

We Are Sure

After years of promoting the OT7 (7-1=0) narrative, Are You Sure?! a travel show, exclusively featuring Jikook, emerged as a completely unexpected phenomenon. To be honest, this Jikook portrayal, unaligned with most of the Jikook narratives we have seen from Hybe in the past few years. Does this signal a future shift? A soft or hard launch? I can't say for certain, and I prefer to remain pessimistic, only time will reveal the truth. What's undeniable is that AYS was a gift and a blessing for anyone who genuinely loves Jimin and JK. The series offered us rare glimpses of their authentic dynamic, something we'll always be grateful to Jikook for sharing. Across eight episodes and 52 minutes of behind-the-scenes footage, their undeniable chemistry shone through. Their endless inside jokes and constant roleplaying revealed just how close they are off-camera, maintaining their special connection in their own private world.

After reflecting on all the beautiful moments in Jikook's exclusive show, I wanted to end this post on a positive note, but one issue demands acknowledgment. Jimin and JK openly expressed their love for this journey and the series itself, and asked us to give it love and support. Yet the harsh reality remains; ARMY collectively chose to ignore the show, even voting against it for iHeartRadio awards. While disappointing, this wasn't surprising, because these haters knew that any success for this show could signal Hybe to produce similar content in the future, an outcome they clearly fear. At the very least, I challenge those dismissing Jikook's bond as "fanservice", true fanservice caters to fans, and when the so-called fandom rejects the content, this label becomes meaningless.

Whether fans like it or not, and regardless of Hybe commercialization, Jikook will continue doing as they please, and their actions clearly demonstrate that being together is their priority. Their joint enlistment and little to no updates from the military proven this beyond doubt. Military service is no luxury vacation in some lavish villa with yachts and fancy meals; they aren’t being paid to film content. They consciously chose harsher conditions solely to remain together, knowing separation would be unbearable for them. What they share is a bond built to last a lifetime. I feel privileged to exist in the same era as Jikook, and I pity those who either cannot or refuse to recognize their beautiful relationship.

#jikook #jimin #jungkook #are you sure?!

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mixolya · 4 months ago

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ᓚᘏᗢ — golden hours, golden hearts : chapter 034 !

the warm scent of something savory filled your apartment, mingling with the soft hum of the stovetop. you leaned against the counter, watching as sae moved effortlessly in your kitchen, sleeves rolled up, focused on whatever he was making.

"a special meal, just for the special lady," he had said when you asked what he was doing. you hadn't pressed further, just enjoying the rare sight of him doing something so domestic.

"i didn't know you could cook," you mused, propping your chin on your hand.

sae glanced at you, unimpressed. "i'm not useless."

you laughed. "yeah? never said you were, though."

he didn't respond, just plated the dish. it was something simple, but it smelled incredible. setting it in front of you, he nudged the chopsticks toward you.

"eat."

you picked up the chopsticks, taking a bite, without much expectation, but the moment the flavors hit your tongue, your brows lifted in surprise. "this is actually good."

"obviously," he scoffed, but there was the tiniest twitch at the corner of his lips. was he pleased?

you rolled your eyes, but the warmth spreading through your chest had nothing to do with the food. there was something oddly endearing about seeing him like this. relaxed, in your space, cooking for you.

"alright, chef itoshi," you teased, taking another bite. "you've officially impressed me."

his eyes flickered to you, acting uninterested, but you caught the way his fingers drummed idly against the counter, like he was holding back a reaction. “took you long enough,” he muttered.

you smiled. “so, what’s the occasion? feeling generous today?”

he tilted his head. “you snuck out of the lv fashion show just to hang out with me. i figured i should at least feed you.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. “in my own apartment? wasn't this your idea? is this your way of saying thank you?”

“sure,” he said, though his tone was too casual, like he didn’t want to confirm or deny it outright. typical sae.

you shook your head, amused, and nudged the plate toward him. “well, since you cooked, you should eat too.”

he raised an eyebrow, hesitating for just a moment before finally sitting down next to you. without a word, he picked up his own chopsticks and took a bite, chewing slowly.

but you caught it, that slight nod of approval, the way he barely hummed under his breath.

you smiled. “good?”

he shot you a flat look. “obviously.”

the two of you ate in a quiet rhythm, the occasional clink of chopsticks against plates the only sound breaking the stillness of your apartment.

it was… nice. surprisingly so.

you hadn’t expected to feel this comfortable with him, but something about tonight felt different.

and then, without realizing it, you found yourself just watching him.

the way his lashes cast faint shadows against his skin, the way he moved with that same effortless precision he had on the field. even something as simple as eating. he made it look composed. but here, in the glow of your kitchen, with the faint scent of food lingering in the air, he seemed more human. less of the unreachable prodigy the world saw him as, and more of just sae.

and that thought lingered a little too long.

because if you let yourself think about it, really think about it, you’d have to admit that maybe, just maybe, you had a crush on him.

after dinner, the two of you ended up on the couch, the weight of the night settling into something easy, something almost peaceful. the only sounds were the faint hum of the city outside and the quiet rhythm of your breathing. sae sat beside you, legs stretched out, his arm lazily draped along the back of the couch. his presence was familiar, but for some reason, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed.

you tried to ignore it.

you tried to focus on the random movie playing on your tv, even though neither of you were really watching.

you tried to pretend that your heart didn’t pick up its pace every time he shifted just the slightest bit closer.

“you’re quiet,” he noted, breaking the silence.

you blinked, turning your head to look at him. “huh?”

“you’ve been staring at the screen for the past twenty minutes, but i don’t think you’ve actually processed a single thing.”

you scoffed. “that’s rich, coming from you.”

he exhaled a small laugh, barely there, but you caught it. when you glanced at him again, you noticed the way his eyes lingered on you.

something inside you tensed.

“do you ever overthink things?” you found yourself asking.

sae raised an eyebrow. “no.”

you sighed. “figures.”

a smirk tugged at his lips, but before you could roll your eyes at him, he shifted suddenly, his hand moving too fast and too smooth and flicked your forehead.

you jerked back, startled. “ow, what the hell?”

“you’re thinking too much,” he said simply, as if that justified the unprovoked attack.

“you-” you were about to throw a pillow at him, but then he laughed again, barely a breath of amusement, and suddenly, all your frustration disappeared.

because hell, that laugh did something to you.

maybe it was the exhaustion. or the fact that the walls you had carefully built between you and him had slowly been wearing down all night. or maybe it was because, for once, it didn’t feel like you had to overanalyze everything. it was just the two of you, here, now. and that realization made something snap inside you.

so when you turned to him fully, you didn’t think twice before shoving at his shoulder, only for him to grab your wrist, pulling you toward him with little effort.

you barely had time to react before his lips were on yours.

your breath hitched as he kissed you, his fingers tightening around your wrist for half a second before releasing it, letting you make the choice to stay, to kiss him back. and God, you did. you leaned in, your hands finding his shirt, gripping it like you needed to hold onto something.

chapter 033 > here > chapter 035

taglist is open ! <3

back to golden hours, golden hearts

a/n: i, in fact, did not cook smth tmrw like i said a few days ago so here's an apology kiss i guess ...

taglist: @darling-dearesttt @ffleurist @yuukiririix @sof888a @beepbopzlorp @luvrrin @narcjsistx @catukin @megumismyhusband @morgyyyyyyy @levihanmyotp @kaz-0e @nensi @vaelils @loverryxx @kunascutie @swagkittybear @alexiaray @kaidostwin @pookiei-bookie @syarc0re @vayahatesu @yangx2isawhore @pinkfqiry @treeguzzler @shumeow-h @modxbea @90s-belladonna @rory-cakes @sapph1r3x @yuiearyi @pctterheadd @thecallofmedusa @whisperofae @belovedfedya @anqelkoz @yukari1k @dontmindtheevie @pookalicious-hq @pan-kojiwa @spookysoowpprince @mivqko @chuuyalvover @viviinpt @h1sllvr @luvvmae @renchai @yourlocaleffy @x3nafix @saeglazer

#mixolya!#itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #itoshi sae smau #itoshi sae imagines #sae smau #bllk smau #bllk x reader #blue lock smau #itoshi sae fic #itoshi sae x you #WERE MAKING PROGRESS YALL

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rainswriting-blog · 5 months ago

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Never Push the Ghost

Summary: After six years of marriage to Simon “Ghost” Riley, you’ve learned to navigate his temper carefully, but today, you’re done playing it safe. What begins as a frustrated outburst over his bad habits quickly spirals into a charged confrontation, where tempers flare, boundaries are tested, and passions ignite. As the tension between you and Simon peaks, one thing becomes clear: he always knows how to handle you, even when you’re determined to push his limits.

Warning(s): P and V pentation physical restraint, including choking, pinning, dominance, power dynamics, punishment, consensual rough intimacy, emotional intensity, teasing, role-specific, minor injuries during physical interactions, Aftercare. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Reblog’s and feedback are appreciated. 18+ minors do not interact

After six years of marriage to Simon “Ghost” Riley, now 40 and still serving in the British SAS, you’ve learned to tread carefully around his temper. At Mid twenties, you’ve always been mindful not to push his buttons. But today? Today, you’d had enough.

It started innocently enough—his boots. Always in the way. You tripped over them for what felt like the hundredth time, and this time, the frustration boiled over. He was sitting there, unmasked for once, watching TV as if everything in the world was perfectly fine.

You snatched up his boots and hurled them toward him, voice sharp with irritation. “For fuck’s sake, Simon! Stop leaving your damn shoes everywhere. I keep tripping on them!”

His head turned slowly, disbelief flickering across his features as he rose to his full height. His imposing frame towered over you, and his voice, low and deliberate, sent a shiver down your spine.

“Did you just throw shoes at me?” he asked, stretching as he stepped toward you, his tone more curious than angry.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to back down. “Yeah, I did,” you shot back, your words laced with sass and defiance, despite the undeniable power he radiated.

He moves swiftly, his hand wrapping around your throat as your back meets the wall with a sharp thud. Your head connects with the surface, leaving a dull ache, but his thumb brushes against your bottom lip in a startlingly gentle contrast.

"You better be careful what you say next," he murmurs, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "If it’s not an apology, I don’t want to fucking hear it." With that, he releases you, his hand falling away as if daring you to challenge him.

Glaring up at him, you rub the back of your head, fury bubbling to the surface. “You literally made me hit my head on the wall,” you snap. “Fuck you, Simon.”

Spinning on your heel, you stomp toward the stairs, heart pounding. You make it halfway up when you hear it—the quiet, deliberate sound of him following you. His footsteps are almost too soft to detect, but you know him too well.

“Oh, shit,” you mutter under your breath, the realization sending adrenaline coursing through your veins. Without thinking, you break into a run, bolting up the stairs as fast as your legs will carry you.

You barely made it a step past the doorway to your shared bed when Simon closed the distance between you. With swift precision, he tackled you—not hard enough to hurt but firm enough to bring you down to the floor.

“Simon, stop it!” you protested, your palms landing on his chest in an attempt to push him away. But he didn’t budge.

“You want to be a fucking brat? Fine,” he growled, his voice low and steady as he pinned you effortlessly. His muscular legs straddled your hips, holding you firmly in place. “Then I’ll show you how brats are punished.”

Before you could protest further, his hand captured both your wrists, bringing them above your head in a single, controlled motion. His grip was unyielding but not cruel, a balance of dominance and restraint.

“Let me go!” you shouted, your legs kicking out instinctively, but it was no use. He was stronger, his weight and precision leaving you at a clear disadvantage. You glared up at him in his brown eyes, heart pounding as adrenaline and frustration warred within you.

Simon’s grip tightened just enough to make his point, his voice calm but unyielding. “I’ll let go when you stop acting like a child and throwing fucking shoes at people,” he said. With a swift motion, he rolled you onto your stomach, keeping control as he got to his feet, now towering over you.

You stayed there, catching your breath, until his next words broke the silence. “Take off your pants,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Why?” you shot back, twisting your head to look at him.

His gaze was steady, unwavering. “Do it, or I’ll do it for you.”

Reluctantly, you complied, fumbling to unbutton and slide them off. Before you could ask what next, his voice cut through again. “Panties too.”

You hesitated, but the look he gave you made it clear he wasn’t asking twice. Sighing, you obeyed, sliding them off before he snatched both garments and tossed them down the hallway, the sound of fabric landing echoing faintly in the quiet room.

Without warning, his hands gripped your sides, lifting you effortlessly by your armpits. “Simon, what the hell?” you protested, but he ignored you, carrying you over to the bed.

He positioned you carefully, ensuring your body lay across the edge of the mattress, your hips and butt perfectly displayed for him. His grip was firm yet controlled, a calculated dominance that left you breathless. You squirmed, but it was no use—he had all the control.

Simon reached for his belt, pulling it from the dresser with a deliberate motion that made your breath hitch. He folded it over in his hands, the leather snapping sharply as he tested it.

“You’re going to count to 26,” he said, his voice calm but commanding. “And you better not forget what number you’re on. If you do, we start over.”

Before you could respond, the first strike landed on your bare cheeks with a sharp crack. A startled scream tore from your lips as the sting spread, your fingers instinctively clutching the sheets beneath you.

“...One,” you managed to gasp, voice trembling.

“Good,” he said, his tone almost approving, before bringing the belt down again. The sound and sensation mingled, sending a rush of heat and embarrassment through you as you clenched your fists.

“Two,” you whispered, bracing yourself for the next strike.

The pattern continued, each snap of the belt prompting you to grit your teeth and call out the next number, your voice growing steadier as the count rose. His measured strikes and unrelenting focus made it clear—he wasn’t stopping until you finished, no matter how much you squirmed or protested.

By the time the 26th strike landed, your body trembled, and tears streamed down your face, soaking into the sheets beneath you. The sting of each strike blended together, leaving you raw and overwhelmed. Between sobs, the apology tumbled out of you, sincere and desperate.

“I’m sorry, Simon,” you choked, voice shaky but genuine. “I’m so sorry.”

He immediately set the belt aside and knelt down beside you, his hands warm and steady as they guided you up into his arms. His chest was solid, comforting, as he wrapped you in his embrace. One hand gently rubbed your back, the other cradling the back of your head as he held you close.

“Shh,” he murmured, his tone soft now, the sharpness of his earlier discipline gone. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

His words soothed you as his touch anchored you, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you in the moment. He stayed with you, murmuring quiet reassurances until your tears slowed, your breathing evened out, and the tension began to melt away.

As your breathing steadied and your tears finally subsided, Simon leaned back slightly, his hand brushing gently over your cheek to wipe away the remnants of your tears. His voice softened, a teasing edge creeping into his tone.

“Do you want your reward now?” he asked, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver through you.

You blinked up at him, still catching your breath, his words cutting through the lingering haze of emotion. His thumb traced soothing circles on your shoulder, waiting patiently for your answer.

You nodded, the weight of the moment leaving you breathless. Simon didn’t hesitate. With practiced ease, he lifted you in his strong arms, carrying you to the middle of your king-size bed. He laid you down gently, his hands lingering on your sides as his eyes searched yours for any hesitation.

Pulling his shirt off in one smooth motion, his toned chest and arms were on full display, the raw strength in his movements evident. He reached for your legs, guiding them open as wide as they could go, his touch firm but careful.

Then, without warning, his mouth found your core, warm and commanding. The open-mouthed kiss sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, your back arching slightly as a soft moan escaped your lips. Your fingers instinctively tangled in his messy brown hair, gripping it as the sensation overwhelmed you. He hummed in response, the vibrations sending waves of warmth through you as he worked with unrelenting focus, every movement designed to unravel you completely.

Between gasps and the waves of pleasure coursing through you, a laugh bubbled up, light and breathless. You tugged gently at Simon’s hair, your fingers still tangled in his locks as you managed to speak through a moan.

“This is one of the reasons I married you, Si,” you said, your voice a mix of amusement and bliss.

He paused for a moment, glancing up at you with a cocky smirk, his lips glistening. “Is that so?” he teased, his voice low and rich, the warmth in his tone matched only by the glint in his eyes. “Guess I’ll have to keep proving you made the right choice.”

Before you could respond, he resumed his focus, his touch and attention reminding you exactly why you’d fallen for him in the first place.

As your body trembled under his touch, your voice came out in a breathy whisper, the words tumbling out between moans.

“Another reason is… you’re so good to me,” you managed, your fingers tightening in his hair as the tension in your body coiled tighter. “Even though I’m a brat sometimes… you still love me.”

Simon’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, a soft, almost tender smile playing on his lips even as he kept his focus. “Always,” he murmured against your skin, the vibration of his voice sending you closer to the edge.

His words, paired with the intensity of his actions, sent you spiraling, your climax crashing over you in a wave that left you breathless and utterly undone.

Simon stood, his movements deliberate as he shed his pants and boxers in one swift motion. His toned physique, now fully bare, radiated strength and confidence. His eyes roamed over your body, taking in every curve and detail as he leaned down, tugging your shirt off in a fluid motion, leaving you completely exposed beneath him.

Hovering over you, his warmth enveloped you as his lips captured yours in a deep, heated kiss. The intensity of the makeout session sent your head spinning, your hands exploring his firm chest before sliding down, wrapping around his sheer size. Your touch elicited a low groan from him, the sound rumbling against your lips as you slowly pumped him, feeling his weight and heat in your grasp.

Breaking the kiss, his mouth moved lower, finding your tightened nipple. He flicked it with his tongue before sucking gently, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. At the same time, the head of his cock teased your folds, sliding along your sensitive skin in slow, deliberate strokes, building anticipation with every movement. The combination of his touch and his skilled attention had your body arching toward him, craving more.

As the teasing continued, the overwhelming need to feel him took over. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, trying to pull him closer and push him inside you yourself. The desperation in your movements made him chuckle low in his throat, his tone dripping with amusement.

“So impatient, love,” Simon said, shaking his head slightly as a playful smirk curved his lips. His hand moved to your breast, delivering a firm yet playful slap that made you gasp, the sting mingling with the pleasure coursing through you.

“You’ve got to let me enjoy this,” he teased, his voice low and husky as he leaned down to brush his lips against yours again. “I’ll give you what you want, but only when I’m ready.”

Simon took his time, exploring every inch of your body with a precision that left you trembling beneath him. His hands, lips, and tongue traced over your skin, drawing out sounds you didn’t know you were capable of making. He seemed to revel in your every reaction, taking his sweet time, teasing and testing you until your body was wound so tight it felt like you might snap.

What felt like hours later, when you were on the edge of begging, he finally positioned himself at your entrance. Without warning, he thrust into your core in one smooth motion, filling you completely. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, your back arching as the overwhelming sensation took hold of you.

“Finally,” you managed to whisper, your hands clutching at his back, nails digging into his skin as he stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the sheer intensity of him. His eyes locked onto yours, a mix of satisfaction and desire flashing in his gaze.

“Worth the wait, wasn’t it?” he murmured, his deep voice sending another shiver through you as he began to move, setting a rhythm that left you breathless.

Your hands slid up to his shoulders, gripping him as you locked eyes with him, his big brown eyes dark with intensity. Your voice came out low but firm, trembling slightly with anticipation.

“Now choke me, Si,” you whispered, the request hanging heavy in the air between you.

His movements paused for just a moment, his gaze narrowing as he studied you. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, the edge of dominance returning to his expression.

“You really are a brat, aren’t you?” he murmured, his tone teasing but laced with that familiar authority. His hand moved up, brushing against your throat before settling there, firm but controlled, his thumb grazing your jaw.

“Say the word if it’s too much,” he said, his voice dropping lower, the weight of his care evident even in his commanding tone. When you nodded, his grip tightened just enough to leave you breathless, amplifying the sensation of everything else as he moved with unrelenting purpose, his eyes never leaving yours.

Simon’s grip on your throat tightened just enough to send a rush of heat through your body, amplifying every sensation. Without hesitation, he began thrusting into you rough and fast, each movement deliberate and powerful. The sudden intensity had you arching beneath him, your hands clawing at his back as wave after wave of pleasure consumed you.

Your cries and screams filled the room, raw and uncontrollable, mingling with his low, guttural groans. The overwhelming sensations blurred the line between pleasure and pain, leaving you trembling and completely at his mercy. Tears streamed down your face, not from distress but from the sheer intensity of the moment, your body responding to him in ways that left you utterly undone.

“Look at you,” Simon growled, his voice thick with desire as his hand on your throat loosened slightly, his thumb brushing against your jaw. “Screaming for me like this… you’re perfect.”

His words only heightened your arousal, your body tightening around him as the pleasure built to a breaking point. You could feel the tension coiling in your core, ready to snap as he continued his relentless pace, determined to push you completely over the edge.

Your second climax hit like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as the release came with a splash. Simon pulled out briefly, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the sight—your release coating his thighs, cock, and the bed beneath you. A proud, satisfied smirk spread across his face as he ran a hand along your trembling body.

“You really are full of surprises, love,” he murmured, his tone filled with a mix of amusement and desire.

Your body trembled uncontrollably, your mind still hazy from the intensity, but he didn’t give you a moment to recover. Without hesitation, he pushed back into you, filling you once again as he resumed his relentless movements. His pace was just as intense, if not more so, driving you higher despite the overstimulation.

“Not done with you yet,” Simon growled, his voice low and commanding as his hips snapped against yours. His hands gripped your waist, anchoring you in place as he continued to take you apart, determined to wring every last ounce of pleasure from your shaking form. The overwhelming sensations left you gasping, your mind spinning as he pushed you toward yet another peak.

Your body gave in entirely to the overwhelming sensations, trembling uncontrollably as you couldn’t stop squirting with each relentless thrust. The bed beneath you was soaked, your cries filling the room as overstimulation consumed you. Tears streamed down your face, the intensity leaving you shaking and gripping onto Simon like a lifeline.

Your nails dug into his back, leaving red trails and even drawing blood in your desperation to ground yourself amidst the overpowering pleasure. He didn’t seem to mind—in fact, your reaction only spurred him on. His groans grew deeper, rougher, as he chased his own release, his movements becoming erratic.

Finally, with a guttural growl of your name, Simon thrust deeply one last time, his release surging into your womb. His weight pressed against you as he buried his face into your neck, his breathing ragged and heavy. The warmth of his release filled you, and he stayed there for a moment, letting the intensity of the moment settle.

Still trembling, you clung to him, your body utterly spent. His arms wrapped around you protectively, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered softly, “You’re incredible, love. Always.”

Your trembling arms wrapped around Simon’s neck, holding onto him tightly, as though letting go might make the world fall away. Your body shook with aftershocks, your breath uneven as you clung to him, seeking comfort in his warmth and strength.

Simon’s hands roamed over your back, soothing you with soft strokes and murmured reassurances. “It’s okay, love. I’ve got you,” he said gently, his voice low and comforting as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

Carefully, he shifted, pulling out of you with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity you had just shared. A soft whimper escaped your lips at the sensation, but he was quick to gather you into his arms, cradling you against his chest.

“Shh, you’re okay,” he whispered, holding you close as he ran his fingers through your hair. His other hand rubbed soothing circles on your back, grounding you as he kept you wrapped in his embrace.

You buried your face in his neck, unwilling to let go, the scent of him and the steady beat of his heart calming the storm inside you. He stayed there with you, his presence steady and unwavering, letting you come down at your own pace, his love and care wrapping around you like a cocoon.

Simon held you close for a moment longer before his voice broke through the haze, soft but firm. “Love, we gotta get up,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “I need to clean you up… and we need new sheets,” he added, his gaze drifting to the mess between your thighs and the soaked bed beneath you.

You groaned softly, nuzzling into his neck, reluctant to let go. “Can’t we just stay like this a little longer?” you whispered, your voice still shaky.

He chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring as he gently stroked your back. “As much as I’d love that, we’re not exactly in the best condition to keep lying here.” His hand moved to your cheek, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. “Come on, love. Let me take care of you.”

With a soft sigh, you nodded, though your arms stayed loosely draped around his neck. He kissed your forehead before carefully helping you sit up, his hands steadying you as your trembling body adjusted. “Let me grab a warm cloth and something for the bed,” he said, placing a reassuring hand on your knee before moving to take care of things.

You stayed where you were, your legs still open, trusting him completely as he knelt in front of you with a warm, damp cloth. His touch was gentle as he began to clean you up, his focus intent on being as careful as possible.

A small whimper escaped your lips as the cloth brushed over your sensitive skin, and you looked down at him, your voice trembling. “Si, careful… I’m so sensitive.”

He glanced up at you with a soft, apologetic smile, his brown eyes filled with tenderness. “I’m trying, love,” he said gently, his voice calm and soothing as he continued his careful work.

His free hand rested lightly on your thigh, a grounding touch meant to steady you as he moved the cloth over you with deliberate precision. Despite your sensitivity, his care and attention helped you relax bit by bit, his patience and love evident in every motion.

“Almost done,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before finishing, ensuring you were comfortable and clean before setting the cloth aside. “There we go. All taken care of,” he said, his voice filled with quiet satisfaction as he stood, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

Simon froze mid-step, his eyes widening as realization struck. “Oh, fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“What?” you asked, suddenly alarmed, your body tensing at his tone.

“Johnny,” he said, his voice tinged with exasperation. “He was supposed to be here an hour ago.” Grabbing his boxers, he quickly pulled them on and strode to the bedroom door, which had been open the whole time. Your stomach sank as you watched him leave.

In the living room, Simon stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted Johnny sprawled on the couch, his face a mix of mortification and sheer disbelief.

“Johnny,” Simon began, his voice low and cautious. “What did you hear?”

Without missing a beat, Johnny’s eyes darted to Simon, then quickly away, his ears turning bright red. “Everything,” he said, his voice flat and tinged with awkwardness.

Simon groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced over his shoulder toward the bedroom, then back to his visibly uncomfortable friend. “For fuck’s sake, Johnny. You couldn’t knock or announce yourself?”

Johnny shrugged, clearly struggling to maintain eye contact. “Didn’t think I’d need to, mate. Thought I’d be welcomed like usual—not treated to… that.”

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath, “Brilliant. Just brilliant.”

Annoyed that Simon hadn’t come back, you walked out of the bedroom, forgetting—or not caring—that you were still completely naked. The moment you stepped into the living room, Simon and Johnny’s heads whipped toward you, both sets of eyes widening in shock.

“Bloody hell!” Johnny exclaimed, immediately covering his face with his hands, though the damage was clearly done.

Simon’s reaction was instant and instinctive. Without saying a word, he bolted toward you, his expression a mix of frustration and protectiveness. In a flash, he scooped you up, throwing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

“Si!” you yelped, your fists lightly pounding his back in protest as he made a beeline for the stairs.

“Not a fucking chance I’m letting Johnny get another second of this view,” Simon growled, his voice low and clipped. He carried you back into the bedroom, kicked the door shut behind him with a firm thud, and set you down on the bed with an exasperated sigh.

“What were you thinking, love?” he asked, hands on his hips, though his tone was more amused than angry.

“I was wondering why you didn’t come back,” you replied with a shrug, though a flush crept across your cheeks.

“I wanted more cuddles, Si,” you say, pouting as you sit on the bed, watching him with big, pleading eyes.

Simon sighs, a soft smirk tugging at his lips despite himself. “You’re unbelievable, love,” he mutters, walking over and pulling you into his arms. “But I’ll give you all the cuddles you want—after I deal with Johnny.”

Simon strides back into the living room where Johnny is still sitting, clearly trying to process everything he’s just witnessed. Simon waves a hand dismissively. “Sorry about that, Johnny. Do whatever you want—I need to get back to Y/N. She wants more cuddles.” Without waiting for a reply, he turns to head back upstairs.

“Uh, LT,” Johnny calls out, his voice laced with concern and disbelief. “Your back is bleeding. What the hell did she do to you?”

Simon glances over his shoulder, smirking slightly. “It’s part of the territory, Johnny,” he says nonchalantly before disappearing upstairs, leaving Johnny sitting there, dumbfounded and speechless.

Taglist

@aasouthteranoswife @edgarapoecolouredglasses @jovialbluebirddragon @soapsrubberduck @coqwuette

#modern warfare 2 #simon ghost riley #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare ii #modern warfare smut #simon ghost riley smut #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish

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joostsblog · 1 year ago

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hey i love ur work !! could you do a joost x reader who’s scared of the dark and there’s a power cut or something pls 🩷

you're all i think about ~ joost klein friends to lovers one shot

My masterlist here ✨💌

Pairing: Joost Klein x female!reader

Description: A movie night at your friend Joost's place turns into disaster and maybe something not so bad after all when there's a power outage.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Tysm for the request, I loved writing it! I hope you enjoy❣️You can always send in requests <3 (title borrowed from the song lights out by fizz!)

Warnings: a panic attack, fear of the dark, not proofread

Movie night tonight? Joost had texted into your friend group chat and somehow nobody was down. Except for you. You were always down if Joost would be there. You would cancel other plans if it meant that you would be able to see Joost. So this is how you ended up by your friend Joost's doorstep, snacks in hand, ready to spend the evening at his place.

You had known each other for a few years now, hanging around in the same circles but it had only been 7 months (7 months and 11 days to be precise, you kept count) since you had suddenly developed a crush on your friend. A crush so bad that sometimes you almost couldn't contain it and you were afraid that any second you would lose control over yourself and just blurt out your confession in front of all your friends when you hang out. Thankfully that hadn't happened so far. So you kept your secret.

You were afraid that if Joost would find out about your true feelings for him, it would ruin your friendship. That all the long hugs, the loving teasing, the ruffles through your hair, the sweet compliments and pep talks would end because he would feel weird about showing that affection to you.

"(Y/N)!" Joost exclaimed with a big smile as he opened the door for you and engulfed you in one of those heavenly hugs. "So glad you could make it!" he said as he rubbed your back softly. "I can always count on you," Joost said after pulling back.

"Of course!" you said.

A short while later you were both lounging on the sofa, while High School Musical was playing on the TV (Joost's choice), giggling and singing along. Your sides were almost touching, Joost's fingers occasionally grazing yours when you both reached for the popcorn bowl at the same time. In moments like these, the longing and wanting you had for Joost was almost unbearable. You just wished there was a universe in which you could just reach out for him and kiss him on the lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Instead, you were damned to stay at a distance and just drink up every small touch that occurred to keep you satiated.

Suddenly the TV and all the lights in the room turned off all at once and you were sat in darkness.

"What the-?" Joost laughed amused.

You were frozen on the spot and stayed silent as you were scared of the dark. You just hoped that the darkness wouldn't persist too long as you could feel yourself spiralling already.

"I'll check if it's the fuse," Joost sighed, obviously slightly annoyed at the inconvenience.

"Alright," you said quietly as Joost got up and used his phone's torchlight.

You took a peek outside the window and realised that the streetlights were also off which would imply that there was a bigger power outage.

"Fuck fuck fuck," you whispered.

This was bad. Not knowing when and if the power would come back on only worsened your state and being left alone in Joost's living room certainly also didn't help. You grabbed your phone and forced yourself to get up from the sofa. You walked to the door that connected to the corridor to look for Joost.

"Joost?" you asked timidly before you turned your head to look down the dark corridor.

"Booo!" Joost suddenly said with a laugh appearing out of nowhere in front of you.

Your heart skipped a beat and you dropped your phone. Your body started shaking uncontrollably as you tried catching your breath, having absolutely no control over your bodily reaction to what Joost probably thought was a harmless joke. Overwhelmed you could feel the tears slowly trickling down your cheeks.

"(Y/N), everything alright?" Joost asked concerned as he registered your quick breathing. You tried answering but couldn't produce an intelligible response. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," Joost said as he realised his mistake. His arms quickly wrapped around your body as he engulfed you in a warm embrace. His chin was resting on your head as he was taller than you, his hands softly caressing you. "(Y/N), I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," you could tell that Joost felt bad for causing your panic.

"It- it's f-fine," you finally managed to push out.

"No no no, I'm sorry," he repeated, softly swaying your bodies back and forth.

"No, I'm such a chicken, I'm afraid of the dark," you explained, voice straining as your throat felt tight and your tears made it difficult for you to speak.

"I swear I didn't know," Joost said. "Come here," he said and led you back to the sofa. "Sit down and close your eyes, just pretend you're taking a nap, okay?" he said and you did as you were told. He softly put a blanket around your shoulders as he sat down beside you. Joost rested his hand on your cheek and wiped away some of your tears.

"I feel so stupid," you admitted, feeling terrible.

"No no, please don't, Lieverd," Joost softly insisted and you wondered whether the pet name was a slip of the tongue. "Don't say that," he said and suddenly you could feel his lips pressing to your forehead and your heart fluttered. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'll be right back, I swear," Joost said before getting up from the sofa.

You kept your eyes closed and tried to calm down your breathing slowly. Having felt Joost's lips against your skin just a moment before sure did distract you but it also certainly added to your nervous heart beating.

"Here I am again," Joost said in a soft tone to not scare you this time. You could hear him shuffle around the room before he said "I got us some lights," and you opened your eyes.

Joost had propped up both of your phones with the torchlight illuminating the ceiling as well as his laptop and iPad which just showed a white screen at maximum screen brightness.

"I don't have any candles," Joost said apologetically.

"It's fine," you softly laughed. "Thank you."

"Well, candles would have been more romantic," Joost said and your heart fluttered again. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asked earnestly.

"This is much better, thank you," you said. "But a hug would be nice."

"Of course," Joost smiled and opened his arms as you crawled over to him into his arms. "I'm sure the power will come back on soon," Joost tried reassuring you, his hand softly stroking the back of your head as you were cuddled up against his chest. Joost started softly humming some melody and the vibrations from his chest started calming you down more.

"This is nice," you murmured and you could hear a smile in Joost's hum, his hand drawing circles on your back. "I'm sorry if I ruined this night."

"No, don't be silly," Joost pulled back lightly to look at you sternly. "Any moment spent with you is perfect."

You looked up at him, heart beating fast as you realised how close you two were to each other. In this moment you wished you were in pitch darkness again because maybe then you would have had the courage to close the few centimetres between you and kiss Joost.

"Don't tell the others, but you are definitely my favourite out of all of them," you said which was the closest thing to a love confession you were able to get past your lips. You saw how Joost's eyes lit up at your words, a grin spreading across his lips.

"You are also my favourite, Lieverd," he whispered. You looked at each other in silence, Joost's hand holding your head, his other arm still wrapped around your shoulders. Joost moved his hand to cup your cheek instead and looked at you fondly. His thumb was just resting by the corner of your mouth. You almost didn't dare to breathe just to not interrupt this delicate moment. Joost's thumb lightly brushed against your bottom lip and your heart skipped a beat before he moved closer to you and you instinctively followed suit. As your lips were only a centimetre apart the both of you briefly paused as if to ask the other for permission before you closed the gap and your lips finally met in a kiss. It was gentle and sweet but yet so passionate. Your hand was resting on Joost's chest you swore you could feel his heart beating faster. His arm was holding you close and his smell engulfed you. It was everything you had hoped for and so much more. After you broke the kiss you grinned at each other, Joost's hand caressing your cheek.

"I'm gonna make sure you'll never have to be in the dark again, I swear," he said before leaning in to kiss you again.

#joost #joost klein #joost x reader #joost klein x reader #joost x you #joost klein x you #joost fic #joost klein fic #joost klein one shot #joost one shot #joost fanfiction #joost klein fanfiction #joost klein fanfic #joost fanfic

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