#10 days down 45 to go

[itsjusteds]

2 months ago today I watched a revolutionary musical that completely changed how my brain functioned. I watched a marvelous piece of media that forever changed how I thought about things. That piece of media you ask? Well young Padawan I am talking about Spies Are Forever.

Hello I'm the artist who's saf brain rot is so strong that he's drawing EVERY saf character daily until he draws them all

Today's character is Richard "Dick" Big

Day 10/55

[kuwdora]

that perennial fic writing experience. where you have the idea and you know the shape of the story you're trying to share. right? right. 😅

a bajillion months ago i had sent @witch-and-her-witcher some of my ciri fic draft. and after some back and forth about what was going on, here was Cee's conclusion:

i gotta tag @xianvar here 'cos i have said the same thing to them once upon a time and their big bang turned into a galactic 100k bang. i can hear them cackling already. @witch-and-her-witcher you were of course right. 😆 i've managed to write 300 words here and there for the last few weeks. all wrapped up in the ciri book feelings. and. well. here is the current wordcount next to my original wordcount goal:

14k of ciri feelings. and i think i've pretty much reached the part of the story that i had actually intended on writing when i first had the idea.

also i know @sassaffrassa will be pleased to hear that i didn't let myself get lost in all of the other story ideas that sprung up during the drafting process. 'Cause I remembered the core of what I wanted to explore with ciri and ye olde book events that got glossed for game canon. putting all the other ideas in a separate document so I don't get lost again. too many ideas.

i doubt it'll stay at 14k but i think (knock on wood) i have the foundation down by now. gonna try to get it into better shape in the next few weeks if i can keep my momentum going.

writing!!! am so tired. reading!! am so tired. but by god i am going slowly keep doing the things i'm enjoying. ❤️

[definitelynotnia]

im sorry i have to rant im so fucking pissed

my exams end on 19th and I have to get rid of some books and buy some books which are quite pricy online so I had planned on going to college street on 20th and selling my books and buying the new ones at a cheap price and i was frankly really excited about it because all I get is a one day break to relax bcz i have to start studying for entrances from 21st so all I have is 20th and i wanted to spend it at college street and then get some food and basically have like a solo date kind of thing.

and i was so so excited about it i told my boyfriend about it like 500 times bcz i kept forgetting i've already mentioned it and it was literally on my mind a lott so i kept bringing it up and ik it seems like not a big deal cz i can just sit at home and chill too but i literally do not get to go outside my house. like- the last time i went out was new years eve and after that the only time i've gone out is to school or to give my boards that is it. my mother has some weird like problem wiht me going out like even if i tell her that i just want to go to our terrace for 5 minutes just to get some fresh air she won't even allow that she'll be all suspicious and like sTaNd In ThE bAlCOnY aNd TaKe FrEsH aIr like she herself doesnt leave the house (and blames it on me and my brother ???? when have we ever stopped you bro, she said I HaVe To Be HeRe To KeEp An EyE like im 18 i dont need to be watched 24/7 stop blaming me for choices you put upon yourself) and i just feel so suffocated ALL THE TIME i feel so overstimulated and im so sick of rotting on my bed and i dont want to wait for some birthday party or friends meet up to be able to leave my goddamn house i just wanted to go and have a fun day and get me some books thats it.

anyway so initially the plan was that my mom would go along but something came up so she wanted to postpone it to 21st and i didn't want to bcz i'd already be missing 3 days bcz of my boyfriends birthday, holi and my brothers birthday (all of which are important and i dont want to miss which makes me the villain apparently bcz i should "adjust" and cancel my "parties" instead of trying to stick to my plan bcz that makes me too demanding and selfish apparently) so i suggested that ukw why dont u go do ur thing which came up and i'll go to college street by myself...which is when the solo date idea came which i had really wanted all along but didnt bring up bcz i knew she'd say no but now there's a valid reason for me to go alone so like, its a pretty easy fix i can just go alone but noooo. First of all,

I've been to college street multiple times before so its not like its an unknown area to me

im going by metro which is quite safe

im going when there is stark daylight and i will return home much much before it gets dark and im literally 18

she never lets me go anywhere alone, not even take ubers alone if i want to get back from somewhere my bf has to come drop me everytime and then go backwards to his house which is so so so stupid and i never get to go out alone unless accompanied by family or by a male friend, so obv when i said i'll go to college street alone she refused to let that happen and started screaming about how 'if its so important to go on 20th bcz u dont want to miss a day of studying then cancel ur 'parties' and study then' and i was like no its not about missing a day its just that there's a very easy and logical fix to this problem which is i go alone and its not inconveniencing anyone so why cant i just do that but she will not listen to that bcz im 'adamant' and 'everything has to be according to me' bcz i found a viable solution to the problem. so instead of letting me just go she was literally ready to pay much more money and buy the books online, like.....why cant i just go bro??? (and she keeps telling me im a waste of her money bcz i will amount to nothing in life and my education was a failed investment or wtv so like now why are u wasting more money??? im literally trying to save the money that u 'waste' on me so just let me ???)

anyway i called my dad last night and told him and he was super ok with the idea he said its a good idea that i go alone and that he would speak to her but then today when i asked her if dad spoke to her she said yes, we'll go on 20th and i was like .....we? so apparently she CANCELLED her previously immovable thing for which she wanted me to cancel my 'parties', she cancelled that and agreed to go with me on 20th just so that i dont get to go alone- like ???????????????? what is ur problemmmm

so obv i was super annoyed and i went on a whole ass rant about how i literally struggle to even cross roads bcz i dont know shit about basic travelling bcz all my life ive been in a car and its a running joke with all my guy friends that i 'cannot navigate' and 'dont know any places' and obv??? if im never allowed to go anywhere then how tf will i know the places- the only places i know is bcz recently i've been paying a lot of attention and asking my dad stuff about what roads to take to reach certain places and when i go out with my friends i kind of try and learn a bit but thats it i've only ever gone alone completely alone to two places which is my beauty parlour thats 5 minutes away from my house and one bazaar one time that was 2 bus stops away, thats it. thats my extent of public travelling alone. and now im supposed to go to a whole new STATE for college and i cant even call myself an auto without struggling. and like- is this not a basic life skill??? like ok yeah its not rocket science and i will probably figure it out even if i start later in life but why not now? most of my guy friends literally go everywhere alone, why not me? and my dad agreed with all of this but my mom was just like "you'll be in the hostel only, no need to go out of the campus" like ARE YOU FOR REAL????????? and she's like "if u want to learn skills learn how to cook" like ok yes i will also learn how to cook for sure but i wont have a fucking kitchen in the hostel but somehow cooking is an urgent skill i should learn but going places by myself is unimportant bcz i should just never? leave? the? hostel?

anyway after much screaming and shouting my dad gave up and just cut the call bcz he doesnt want to get into an argument with my mother and my mother was being all suspicious like why do u hAvE tO gO aLoNe AlL oF a SuDdEn even though i literally explained why i want to do this alone but she doesnt think thats valid. so she refuses to let me go and i asked her for one reason why i shouldnt cz usuallt its always "no u have exam what if smthn happens" but now i literally dont even have exam so whats ur excuse now? streets will always be unsafe forever so "what if smthn happens" is not a reason to never let me go out without a man so just gimme one reason and she couldnt give me a single reason she just said "i said no, thats it".

and now she's gone off about how im useless and blah blah and "high maintainance" bcz i want books and "everyone else (some pishi's son) just studies online" and so the whole option of college street is apparently now cancelled and she's trying to set up a whole ass kindle account (half the books i need arent even available as ebooks) just because i wanted to go by myself.

[mirrortouchedsea]

Day 5

Madara is running, mind trying to keep up with everything that just happened. Take a left and then a right, there’s a contact there that can help. He feels blood dripping down his arm but he has to keep going. The shouts behind him are getting louder so he takes a left instead of a right, hoping to find a place to hide for a moment and catch his breath. 

He has to make it to the meeting point and get his arm checked out before his date with Leo later. If he has to cancel again over this… He’ll make it. He has to.

Madara must have bled more than he thought at first. He’s stumbling and it’s harder to breathe and he almost doesn’t notice when he runs into someone else until that familiar voice cuts through the fog. 

“Mama? Mama are you okay?” Why is he here? Did he have something going on? Madara tries to turn around, find a different place to hide. He can’t talk about this right now, not with Leo. Leo grabs his hand and Madara is too weak to pull away. 

“I’m fine, Leo-san.” The shouts that were following him seem to be getting quieter. They must have taken the bait. He relaxes just a little bit. “I have somewhere I need to--” He collapses before he can finish, everything goes blurry and he has to force himself to focus on Leo’s voice. He can tell that someone’s speaking but he can’t tell if it's himself or Leo. Stay awake stay awake stay awake. 

He feels his lips moving and he’s trying to say something while Leo is on the phone and applying pressure to Madara’s arm. Please don’t leave. I love you I love you I love you. Leo places a hand on his face and forces Madara to look up at him. Leo is saying something but Madara can’t hear it. I’m sorry you had to see me like this. Leo looks stressed. Madara caused this. He needs to leave before he makes it worse but Leo pushes him down when he tries to stand. His arm is throbbing. 

Someone hands Leo a bottle which Leo then puts to Madara’s lips, cool water quenching a thirst he didn’t realize he had. His head clears just a little bit and he can hear Leo finally. Stay with me Mama, please stay awake. I love you too. 

There’s more talking and Leo is pulled away while the emergency responders put Madara on a stretcher and put him in the ambulance. He tries to grab Leo, get them to let him into the ambulance as well, but they just strap his arm to his side and begin to assess the damage. 

Madara wakes up in the hospital, Leo sitting in the chair next to his bed. Leo tackles him in a hug before he can say anything and the nurses are running in to check on his vitals. He’ll be okay but he won’t be released until tomorrow. 

“I’m sorry, Leo-san. I really wanted--” 

“What’s going on? Don’t lie to me.” Leo’s voice cracks. 

“I was… trying to protect you. There are a lot of people who want to hurt you and I can’t…” 

“I can make my own decisions, Mama.” 

Madara doesn’t speak. He opens his mouth but any words he could say die on his lips. 

“I know you want to protect me but I don’t want you to get hurt because of me either.” 

“I know.” 

There’s silence and Madara is afraid Leo might finally break things off. His cheeks are wet and he refuses to look at Leo. Instead, Leo grabs his hand and squeezes it. 

“I love you. I don’t want to see you hurting.” 

He was much more serious than the Leo Madara knew and loved. He couldn’t bear to see Leo hurting either, especially if he was the cause. 

Madara squeezed Leo’s hand and made a silent promise that he’d be more careful from now on. Something had to change and continuing to get hurt like this wasn’t helping anyone. Maybe someday they could be happy together with nothing to worry about, but he would have to work to make that happen. 

[southislandwren]

ohohoho boy update. today at work it was just us doing cheese while everyone else pulled an ice cream order, and i was like hey if youre not busy saturday would you want to roadtrip with me? and i fully expected him to say no, but we are roadtripping to nebraska on saturday <3 <3 anyway what playlist do i put on in the car. do we trust him enough for get loose get looser

[cantsaythetword]

I hate how overwhelmed I get in loud alcoholic social situations

[fingertipsmp3]

The amount of people who seem to enjoy spending time with a lot of people for a long period of time baffles the shit out of me man

[cappucosmico]

the most devastating shit on earth is that i had a friend in middle school who was like my ride or die. but her only "social media" was Google Fucking Plus. so naturally i have lost her in the wastelands of that shitstorm. but i cannot find her ever again bc she has like The most common name on god's green earth so one facebook search for people with her name in the bronx yields like a million fucking results. so imagine if she's not even in the bronx anymore. 10 million results

[hussyknee]

i'm so confused rn, can you explain the goncharov thing?? i get off tumblr for five minutes

(Edits closed as of 28 Nov.)

Lmaoooo

Nah I getchu. So this post has been circulating for like two years:

Link to post.

But yesterday, it had inspired someone to do this:

Link to post.

Next thing I knew there were fake Letterboxed reviews.

Goncharov moodboards. Really good ones.

Link to post.

Meta analysis. So many fake meta essays. Disturbingly good ones. And of course the memes. (Edit: HAVE I SAID THIS SHIT IS DISTURBING)

As you can see, the myth just started to grow, characters and ships and tropes being added one after the other, almost bizzarely without contradiction, until there was enough of shape to the whole thing for people to start posting fanfic about it on AO3. "No beta we die like ice-pick Joe" is already a tag.

Link to post.

It was hilarious in the beginning, but the way it's developed within less than a day, kind of like it's being willed into existence, is freaking me out a bit. We're toying with powers beyond our comprehension. 😂😂😂

Link to post.

Of course, there could be an ulterior motive as well.

Link to post (tags mine).

Edit: guys, please tag these posts "unreality" so people with disassociation issues can filter them out (not this one, this is an explainer). <3

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

Edit 2: Aparently the boots in the original post are actually referring to a movie called Gomorrah that came out in 2008, directed by Mateo Garrone, based on the Scampia Feud. And other people had also been making posts about the fake movie for a while before the poster took off.

found by @thepotch

Edit 3: Explainer: why did those boots have this movie on them anyway?

Edit 4: Alt text added to all images courtesy of @valentineish ❤️

Edit 5: Turns out tumblr has done this kind of thing before. Nine years in this hell place and I had to have "Squiddles" and penis smp explained in the replies.

Edit 6: This post collects the Lore so far.

Edit 7: Lynda Carter (real one)/ earns more/ Tumblr cred.

Edit 8: Holy shit y'all we have the theme music. With sheet music. And it's on Spotify!

Edit 9: THERE IS A TRAILER WITH THE THEME MUSIC

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

I made this post 18 hours after the movie poster went up. Closed edits 27 hours after first posting. So all of the above happened within 45 hours of the movie poster going up.

Edit 10: Google document live-compiling all the lore so far (Day 3)

Edit 11: Masterpost of Goncharov soundtracks (Day 3)

Edit 12: Entertainment news articles covering the Gonch-posting (real) (Contd from yday)

Edit 13: The music from the masterpost all compiled into a 31-minute original score with video edits on YouTube (edit: unfortunately taken down)

Edit 14: Staff's Goncharov art showcase for Tumblr Tuesday

As of closing on Day 3 there are 371 works in the AO3 tag.

-----

Updating with Day 3 shenanigans I missed yesterday:

Edit 15: Goncharov TV Tropes page

Edit 16: Ethics of Gonchposting

Important PSA 1 (how to reduce harm to Tumblr's neurodivergents)

Important PSA 2 (reality affirmation, anti-bullying)

Important PSA 3 (why you should stop trying to vandalise legit information sites)

Edit 17: Character lore from beezlebub whose poster they originated from

Edit 18: What we know about/ Director Matteo JWHJ0715 (#unreality)

Edit 19: Link to post with screenshotted and described NYT article (scroll down) and this golden exerpt from BuzzFeed: 💀

(alt text included)

End of Day 4 there are now 485 works in the Goncharov tag on AO3

----

Didn't get to update this on Day 5, so these are the Day 5 doings:

More trailers!

Trailer 1 (My favourite)

Trailer 2

Trailer 3

Trailer 4

I also just found out about the Goncharov Game Jam.

It appears this opened a day after after the meme took off.

Goncharov was first entered into Wikipedia between Day 4 and 5 (attempts to vandalise it with fake info don't count, incidentally – please knock that shit off) under List of Internet Phenomena. This was then expanded into its own Wikipedia page at the end of Day 5 because, according to the talk history: "the topic now meets the notability threshold for its own artice due to significant coverage in The New York Times and other sources cited." We're on Wikipedia, people!

And then we made The Guardian half a day later. So while the meme is definitely dying down to embers by now, it still stays winning.

YouTube channels with episodes on the meme:

InformOverlord (4:30)

Lessons in Meme Culture (2:43)

End of Day of 5 there were 511 works on AO3, and End of Day 6 (today) there are 556.

--

🚨BREAKING 🚨 from Martin Scorsese's daughter's TikTok (real actual)

tw: unreality:

We did it you guys!

Clarification: Francesca Scorcese asked her Dad about the meme and Martin played along. Please reblog this PSA to help Tumblr people with psychosis. Thanks.

Final edit: Day 8. Media reactions to Scorcese's TikTok (everyone from Forbes to Vulture). That one Tumblr user who said they'd do a screenplay if their post got notes has promised to shoot a single scene, but please don't be dicks just because you reblogged it; leave them alone until they get around to it themselves. As of end of Day 8 there are 609 works in the AO3 tag. I love all you lunatics. Peace! ❤️

[deoidesign]

How I save time on backgrounds as a full-time webcomic artist

Hi! I make webcomics for a living, and I have to be able to draw a panel extremely fast to keep up with my deadlines. I draw about 50 panels a week, which gives me about 45 minutes per panel if I want any semblance of a healthy work-life balance.

Most webtoon artists save time on backgrounds by using 3d models, which works for them and is great! but personally I hate working in 3d... I went to school for it for a year and hated it so much I completely changed career paths and vowed never to do it again! So, this is how I save time without using any 3d, for those of you out there who don't like it either!

This tactic has also saved me money (3d models are expensive) and it has helped me converting my comic from scroll format into page format for print, because I have much more art to work with than what's actually in the panels. (I'll touch on this later)

So, first, I make my backgrounds huge. my default starting size is 10,000 x 10,000 pixels. My panels are 2,500 pixels wide, so my backgrounds are 4x that, minimum. Because of this, I make them less detailed than I could or that you might expect so it doesn't look weird against my character art when I shrink portions of it down.

I personally find it much easier to add in detail than to make "removing" details look natural at smaller sizes, but you might have different preferences than I do.

I also make sure to keep all of my elements on separate layers so that I can easily remove or replace them, I can move them to simulate different camera angles more easily, and it's simple to adjust the lighting to imply different times of day.

Then I can go ahead and copy/paste them into my episodes. I move the background around until it feels like it's properly fitting how I want.

Once I've done that in every panel, I'll go back through the episode and clean up anything that looks weird, and add in solid blacks (for my art style) Here's a quick before and after of what that looks like!

This makes 90% of my backgrounds take me just a few hours. This is my tactic when I'm working in an environment that an entire scene, or multiple scenes, will take place.

But many panels will inevitably have a location that's used exactly once, and it would waste time and effort to draw a massive background for those. So in 10% of cases, I just draw the single panel background in the episode. I save all of these, just in case I can re-use it later (this happens more often with outdoor locations, but I save them all nonetheless!)

I generally have to draw about 2 big backgrounds per episode, and 3-5 single-panel backgrounds per episode! At the beginning of an arc/book the number is higher, but as the series is continuing and I'm building up an asset library of indoor and outdoor elements to re-use for the book, the number generally goes down and I save more time.

My series involves time travel and mysteries, so there's a lot of new locations in it and we're constantly moving around. If I were working on a series that was more consistent in this aspect, this process would save me even more time!

Like I said earlier, this also saves me a lot of pain and gives me a lot more options as I'm converting from scroll format to print format!

panels that look like this in scroll format...

can look like this in print!

because I drew the background like this, so I didn't need to go through the additional effort to add in the extra detail to expand it outwards at all.

Anyways, I hope this helps someone! As always if it doesn't help, just go ahead and disregard. This is what I do and what works for me, and I feel like I only ever see time-saving tips for comics that involve 3d models and workflows, which don't work for me at all! I know there's more people like me out there, so this is for you!

Enjoy!

Also obligatory "my webcomic" if you want to see this in action or check it out!

[luckykiwiii101]

Hello, I am writing to you as a 22-year-old girl who managed to enter the void on the night of May 17 and changed her whole life.

I started my void  challenge in December 2021. It was very difficult for me both physically and psychologically. Because I had an environment that was abusive and violent. And my conditions were very terrible. I had an exam that I couldn't win for 3 years, an alcoholic father who beat me, and a mother who never let up on it. I have lost a lot of things in my life in 3 years, but I have never given up on emptiness. If there are people who are still struggling with the gap, I hope my success story will be a motivation for you.

One morning when I woke up with failure again, I was feeling extremely unhappy and hopeless. But an incident at home during the day made me say, ‘That's enough, I'm going to fuck everything up tonight and wake up in a void.

When I wasn't feeling very sleepy- or even sleepy at all- I lay down on the bed. Because I'm afraid to fall asleep. In order of;

15 min Holotropic breathwork

20 min Silva method

10 min Alpha State meditation

After lying motionless for about 45 minutes, the brown noise started playing. It is very natural that there is a desire to move, to be overwhelmed,to give up in this part. Please continue for your dreams. When the brown noise was playing, I used a single affirmation. 

‘I'm simply deciding that I'm in a void.’

I can't remember how many times I repeated it. After a while, everything became quiet and I felt so peaceful for the first time in my life. I had a 30-page document and I said that everything in there would be manifested.

A day ago, when I had nothing, I now have a house on the Mediterranean coast, a black bmw ix car, a Harvard math degree, an online job where I earn 25 thousand dollars per month by working only 4 hours a day 4 days a week (Dollars are very valuable in the country where I live, and my salary is multiplied by about 30.), I have a beautiful face, body and skin. I also showed that I can ride horses professionally and draw pictures. I confirmed that the apple products, books, cosmetics and skin products in my wishlist are also in my house. I have also declared the person I will meet about 1 year from now and who will become the man of my dreams.

THIS IS AMAZING!!!! I’m so happy that you’re now living your dream life 💗

This is such a good example of showing people that they can truly do anything. Thank you for taking your time to share this 💗

[flwrstqr]

FALLING IN LOVE ACCIDENTALLY (OR NOT) (LHS - 이희승)

SYNOPSIS: babysitting wasn't your dream job that you always wanted. as you start babysitting a new girl, lee jihyeon, you meet her older brother, lee heeseung. You end up getting closer and closer to heeseung and ultimately fall in love amidst the chaos.

pairing: bad boy!heeseung x babysitter!reader

genre: s2l, babysitter au, romance, fluff, angst, medium fic

warning(s): parties, cursing, fighting, mentions death, small grammar errors, crying, some angst scenes, kissing, reader and heeseung has a year age gap

word count: 5k+

AN: guys im back with a medium fic!! lowkey this wasn't really the it vibe as the end i feel like was kind of rushed. so if i made any grammar errors im sorry TT, i finished this writing in like 2-3 days so it was kind of hard so. but liz + hye for helping me think of a climax. i kind of got this idea for a POV on tiktok so help

AGE 21, THE SUPPOSED GOLDEN YEARS OF LIFE, or so they say. But for you, it's far from golden. Being a babysitter at this age isn't exactly glamorous; it's probably one of the last jobs you'd expect to have.

"Yunah, I'm heading out to my new client's place, okay?" you call out before leaving the door.

"Okay, just be safe!" Yunah shouts back from her room down the hallway. You close the door behind you and hurry out as usual, pulling out your notepad to review your schedule for the day:

8:00 am: Wake up 8:30 am: Go grocery shopping with Moka for breakfast 9:30 am: Have breakfast 9:45 am: Prepare for the new kid 10:30 am: Leave the house 10:45 am: Arrive at the client's house 1:00 pm: Leave the client's house

You quietly close your notepad and mentally rehearse what to say as you settle onto the bus. Upon reaching your stop, you make your way to the house.

The house is painted in soft beige and cream, with a porch ceiling resembling a clear blue sky on a sunny day. A wind chime gently sways, welcoming visitors with its melodic tinkling. You ring the doorbell and wait.

A boy around your age answers, with dark red hair and deer-like features. His ear piercings catch your attention as he regards you with an intense stare.

"Hi, I'm here for Jihyeon. Lee Jihyeon," you say, your words stumbling slightly under his gaze. "I'm her babysitter. YN LN."

"Oh, Jihyeon's upstairs," he replies with a shrug, ushering you inside.

Inside, the entrance feels airy and bright, with a faint scent of coffee lingering in the kitchen. Making your way upstairs, you come to a door adorned with pink letters and heart and flower stickers, reading "LEE JIHYEON." You knock, and a small girl, around six years old, opens the door.

"Hi," she says, her eyes wide as she looks up at you. "Are you a princess here to take me to princess school?"

You chuckle softly. "You can think that if you want. I'm YN. Your new friend," you introduce yourself, crouching down to her eye level.

"Are you here to babysit me?" Jihyeon asks as she lets you enter her room.

"More than babysitting, I'll be your new friend," you reassure her with a smile.

"Really?" Jihyeon's eyes light up. "I've wanted a friend for a while, but I don't have any at school." She quickly covers her mouth, realizing what she's said, and closes the door abruptly.

"Jihyeon?" you raise an eyebrow at her sudden change in demeanor.

"Sorry, my brother doesn't know. If he found out, he might cause trouble at my school," Jihyeon explains, pouting as she joins you.

"Your brother?"

"Yeah, Heeseung," Jihyeon beams, kicking her legs as she sits. "I love him a lot."

You smile at her innocence. "How old is your brother?"

"22!" Jihyeon exclaims. "He's like 16 years older than me, but he's a great brother."

"I see. How about we start playing now?" you suggest, earning an enthusiastic nod from Jihyeon as she jumps up to grab her toys.

"YN, COME ON! WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE TO YEJI’S PARTY!" Minju exclaims as she peeks into your room. Her mouth slightly drops as she sees your outfit. "Trying on the new dress you got?"

You nodded, turning to her. "Does it look okay? Not too over-the-top?"

Twirling to inspect yourself in the mirror, the knee-length black velvet dress hugged your figure, adorned with delicate black lace and a soft touch.

"You look stunning," Minju beamed, adding the final touch by placing a diamond necklace around your neck.

"Thanks, Minju," you said, pulling her into a hug.

"Anything for you, YN. Now come on, let's go to the party. Yunah is complaining about how long we're taking," Minju laughs, quickly letting go of the embrace before taking your hand and dragging you to the car.

As you get into the car, the six of you start driving to the party, blasting music and enjoying your life. When you arrive, the club is crazy loud. The noise from the DJ speakers vibrates throughout the room, friend groups dancing in circles, and couples making out in the back. Your shoulders tense as you scan the room. You walk over to the bar to get a quick drink before joining the party.

Feeling awkward and out of place, you shuffle around while holding your drink. You glance around and make eye contact with Moka, who is sitting with a group of people. She signals for you to join them, but you shake your head no and excuse yourself to the bathroom. As you wash your hands and return to the party, you come face to face with the one girl you wished you never saw again: Yoonhee, the girl who bullied you in high school for being "poor."

"Oh look, it's YN LN!" she gives a small fake smile. "Didn't expect to see you at Yeji's party tonight."

"What do you want, Yoonhee," you glare.

"Nothing, I'm just giving you a pleasant greeting. Nothing more," she laughs, triggering flashbacks from when you were 17.

"Then get out of my way, Yoonhee," you spat.

"Woah, no need to get so aggressive," she gives a proud smile. "I heard you were babysitting. How's it like to be poor?"

That was your last straw. You grab the nearest drink and throw it at Yoonhee's white dress. Her eyes widen as she sees the purple punch juice on her dress. Her eyes then narrow as she stares at you.

"Do you know how much this cost? This dress cost $5,270. Now you have to pay for that," she says angrily.

"Fuck off, Yoonhee. You're still the same. No wonder you have no friends," you yell before turning around and running out of the nearest exit.

You burst out into tears, knowing you were sober. You walk yourself to the nearest bus station, sobbing silently as you wipe your tears. Each step gets heavier as your heels start to burn and your bare knees and calves shiver from the cold.

“Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks. It's a voice that sounds so familiar. A voice that you swore you heard before. You look up to meet the same boy back at Jihyeon’s house. The boy with those deer-like features and dark red hair, with the same exact piercings.

"You’re the guy from Jihyeon's house," you try to piece his name together as only in your mind was the incident with Yoonhee and you.

"Heeseung, and you are?" he asks, noticing your teary eyes.

"YN," you reply, wiping your tears.

Heeseung then notices how you're shivering from the cold. He takes off his jacket and drapes his jacket over your shoulders

"Here, you can take this. Do you need a ride or anything? Do you have someone picking you up?" he asks.

"Yunah, Moka, and Minju are still there. They're my friends," you sniffle. "But I was walking myself to the bus station."

“Still there?” He raises his eyebrow. 

“At the party,” you mumbled. 

"If you want, I can take you home," Heeseung suggests.

"How do I know you're not a kidnapper," you tease with a pout.

Heeseung laughs softly. "Do you think I am?"

"Maybe," you reply.

"Trust me, I won't. Plus, what's the worst thing I can do?" Heeseung smiles.

"Weird stuff," you say.

"I won't. Where do you live?" he asks.

"Okay, that's a bit off," you reply teasingly.

"Hey..." Heeseung says in a half-joking, half-serious tone.

"Fine, I'll tell you the direction, you drive the car," you respond.

"Oh, who said it was a car?" Heeseung winks as he walks you over to his motorcycle.

Your eyes widen. "A motorcycle? Also, I need a helmet?"

"Wear mine," he grins, handing you his helmet before helping you hop onto the back. You hold him tightly as he starts his engine.

As you clutch onto his leather jacket, he speeds up, and you squeeze your eyes closed, afraid of falling. When you open them again, you admire the midnight sky, feeling the cold breeze hug you warmly. When you arrive back at the dorm, you wave goodnight to Heeseung before he turns around.

"Can I get your number?" he asks.

"Sure," you grin, inserting your number into Heeseung's phone. You wink and then turn around to walk back into your dorm.

THE DOOR SWINGS OPEN, and Jihyeon's sweet smile welcomes you in. She bounds up with excitement, leading you upstairs to her room.

"Where's your brother, Jihyeon?" you ask, your tone light. You steal a glance at your bag, where Heeseung's neatly folded and laundered jacket rests.

"He's out or something," Jihyeon shrugs, already eager to show off her new toy.

As time flies by, you and Jihyeon play together as usual. She cherishes your time together, and as you help prepare lunch, the two of you chat.

"Jihyeon, are your parents not home?" you inquire, placing the grilled cheese she requested onto a plate.

"They're not here," Jihyeon replies between bites of her sandwich, causing your eyes to widen slightly.

"I see," you murmur softly, tucking a strand of Jihyeon's hair behind her ear as she takes another big bite.

"That's why Heeseung is always out. He's always looking for a babysitter for me because I'm only 6. So, I want you to be my permanent babysitter!" Jihyeon beams, savoring each taste of her grilled cheese.

"I'll always be here for you, Jihyeon," you smile back, admiring her cute expression. "How about after this, we play some fun games?"

"Yes, please!" Jihyeon's face lights up with a huge smile as she takes the last bite of her grilled cheese. You then tidy up with her and quickly take her hand as you step outside to play together.

"DOES THIS LIP TINT LOOK OKAY?" you inquire of Wonhee, who was browsing through the new makeup offerings at the mall. She looks up, observing the tester product on your hand.

"Hmm, maybe a slightly lighter shade," Wonhee suggests before joining you to explore more makeup options. You pick up another lip tint, testing it out before making your purchase and leaving the store.

"YN?" a voice calls out your name. You glance up to see Heeseung waving at you.

"Oh, Heeseung," you respond with a smile. "Didn’t expect to see you here at the mall."

"My friend works at the café on the first floor, so I thought I'd pay a visit," Heeseung explains. "Are you here alone?"

"No, I'm here with—" you begin, but your voice is interrupted by Wonhee rushing over to you.

"YN! I finally decided to buy the new eyeshadow palette!" Wonhee exclaims, then she notices Heeseung. "Oh, do you know him?"

"Heeseung, Jihyeon’s older brother," you introduce, as Heeseung gives a small wave. "He's a year older than me."

"Hi, nice to meet you," Heeseung says, shaking Wonhee's hand.

"I'm Wonhee, YN's best friend or roommate, well, one of her roommates," Wonhee smiles.

"Nice to meet you," Heeseung replies, before turning back to you. "Well, gotta go so have a good time with your friend, pretty girl." Your eyes widen slightly in surprise at his affectionate nickname as he walks off to the first floor, hands in his pockets.

"God, he's definitely into you, YN!" Wonhee giggles, noting your shocked expression.

"Shut up, Wonhee!" you exclaim.

"Just saying!" Wonhee laughs.

A COUPLE OF WEEKS HAD PASSED SINCE YOU FIRST MET HEESEUNG, but it was that one night that really caught your attention. After a long day of babysitting, you decided to take a leisurely stroll around the park before heading back to your dorm.

The night was tranquil, nearly 9 pm, and the crisp air refreshed you as you walked. As you approached your usual alleyway, the sound of punches and kicks pierced the calm. Your heart raced with nervousness as you wondered what was happening. Was it a hallucination, or...?

Turning the corner, you were shocked to see Heeseung amidst a group of boys. Quickly, you ducked behind a wall, watching in disbelief. Why was he in a fight?

Straining to hear their conversation, you caught Heeseung shouting, "You owe me $1,000. I won the bet," just before another punch landed on his face. Your heart sank at the sight of his swollen lips and bruised eye.

"Who cares about the bet? You messed with us, you’re dead," a boy sneered, delivering another blow.

"Leave him alone!" you finally mustered the courage to intervene, emerging from your hiding spot.

The boy mocked, "Oh look, is it your girlfriend, Heeseung? If you’re a stray cat trying to get your boyfriend out of trouble, you're out of luck."

In a burst of anger, you threw your purse at the boy, sending him tumbling to the ground. Another boy's eyes widened in shock as he witnessed the scene.

"What did you say?" you demanded, your eyes narrowing.

As the tension escalated, you kicked the taunting boy hard in the legs, causing him to yelp in pain.

"Want to say that again?" you glared. "Fuck off and find something better to do with your time."

The boy slowly looking a bit scared quickly ran off through the alleyways as his friends tagged along with him. 

“So…” you began tentatively, noticing Heeseung’s bleeding lip.

“Sorry for all of that,” Heeseung apologized sincerely.

“Let's talk later. For now, let's get you patched up,” you replied, swiftly leading him to the nearby convenience store to grab a first aid kit.

"HOW DID YOU EVEN END UP IN THAT FIGHT?" you inquire as the two of you settle in at the park. You pull out a tube of scar gel, uncapping it and listening intently as Heeseung explains.

"Well, I made a bet for $1,000 and won, so I got dragged into the whole brawl," Heeseung shrugs. "It's just the usual."

"Usual?" your eyebrow raises as you first cleanse the scar with an alcohol wipe.

"Ouch, that stings," Heeseung winces as you then pat it dry with a tissue. "Yeah, it's kind of normal for me... ouch."

"Then maybe you shouldn't do it; it's dangerous," you respond, leaning in closer to apply the medicine. Heeseung's heart thumps as he watches you approach. You can feel his breath against your skin, and his cheeks flush as your fingers touch his skin. Why does his stomach feel like it's doing somersaults?

You affix a small bandage as a finishing touch. "There."

"Thanks," Heeseung smiles. "So, where were you?"

"Babysitting for another kid today," you shrug, quickly disposing of the bandage wrapper and tidying up your first aid kit.

"I see," Heeseung replies, helping you clean up. "I can walk you home if you want?"

"I'll walk," you smile.

"I could walk with you part of the way," Heeseung suggests, falling into step beside you. You both gaze at the glimmering stars, admiring them from afar.

"You know," you start, "Jihyeon mentioned something about your parents."

Heeseung's gaze drops as he stares at the ground, his smile fading slightly. He looks at you. "She did?"

You nod, meeting Heeseung's eyes. "If you're comfortable sharing, what happened?"

"Well..." Heeseung pauses, contemplating for a moment before continuing. "My parents died in a car crash. They were returning from a movie, and they never really got to say goodbye to us. I guess my biggest regret was not saying goodbye before they left. I was just being stubborn and angry because they scolded me for getting a bad grade."

You listen attentively. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's okay. It's all in the past now. It happened about five years ago, and I barely remember it," Heeseung shrugs.

"I hope things have gotten better since then," you smile.

"Thanks, YN," he gives you a grateful look.

"Anyway, thanks for walking me. Hopefully, we can talk again later," you wave goodbye before heading towards your apartment building.

"YN, COULE YOU PLEASE JOIN ME FOR A DRESS-UP TEA PARTY?" Jihyeon pleads with a cute pout, coaxing you into her playful scheme.

"Alright, fine…" you reluctantly agree, watching as Jihyeon's face lit up with a wide smile before she hurriedly led you to her room to fetch tiaras and dresses.

"This dress is from Mommy's room, so you can wear it," Jihyeon grin mischievously, confessing how she got it without her brother's knowledge. You examine the dress—a simple white garment with puffy sleeves adorned with intricate lace, reaching knee-length.

After changing in the bathroom, you admire your reflection in the mirror. Surprisingly, the dress fit perfectly, accentuating your features.

Emerging from the bathroom, you found Jihyeon holding two tiaras, dressed in her own fancy pink attire. She hands you a tiara, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she helps you place it on your head.

"Let's go! It's tea party time!" she exclaims, leading you to the dining table where she arranged fake tea cups. Pouring imaginary "tea" into your cup, you play along, enjoying the moment.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes observed from the doorway. "A tea party without me?" a teasing voice remark, revealing Heeseung, in his usual leather jacket and jeans, his smile widening as he saw you. His gaze linger on you appreciatively, taking in the sight of the borrowed dress.

"Heeseung!" Jihyeon exclaims, rushing into his arms.

"How are you, Jihyeon?" Heeseung greets, lifting her up gently.

"Why are you home so early?" Jihyeon inquire.

"Just needed to grab something upstairs," Heeseung replies with a grin. "Could you fetch my phone and wallet, Jihyeon? I need to chat with YN."

"Sure!" Jihyeon agreeing, scampering off to fulfill his request.

"YN…" Heeseung's gaze softened as he admires your appearance in the dress. "You look beautiful."

"I hope it's not inappropriate or disrespectful cause Jihyeon let me borrow it…" you began, but Heeseung quickly reassuring you.

"No, it's fine. You should keep it. It suits you really well," he insisted 

"Are you sure?" you ask hesitantly.

"Absolutely," Heeseung affirm, his smile unwavering. "By the way, are you free next Friday evening? Jihyeon will be with her aunt, and I thought maybe we could grab dinner together."

"Ah, is someone asking me out?" you tease, accepting his invitation with a smile.

Heeseung chuckles. "Guilty as charged. See you next Friday then. Feel free to continue your tea party," he added with a wink as you playfully rolled your eyes. Jihyeon returned with Heeseung's belongings, bidding him farewell as he left the house once more.

"WHY AM I SO NERVOUS…" you whisper to yourself in the bathroom before a ding dong at the door interrupts your thoughts. "I'LL GET IT!" you shout, hastily opening the door to find Heeseung standing there, clad in a white blouse with the first two buttons undone and black pants.

"I hope I’m not too early?" Heeseung grins.

"Perfect timing," you reply with a small smile. "I'LL BE BACK SOON!" you call out to your friends before exiting the house.

Outside, Heeseung's motorcycle awaits, and you sit on it, securing your helmet as he starts the engine. Arriving at the restaurant, he assists you off the bike, taking your hand and leading you inside. As you settle at a table, you quickly peruse the menu and place your order, leaving time for conversation.

"I noticed something unique about Jihyeon," you begin. "Unlike most kids who prioritize toys, she seems more…mature, especially in her care for you."

"Hm?" Heeseung looks intrigued.

"She's genuinely thoughtful and responsible, almost like she was raised exceptionally well," you add, earning a nod from Heeseung.

"You also strike me as a great brother," you compliment, noticing a faint blush on Heeseung's cheeks as he looks away, taking a sip of water to compose himself.

"Thanks," he responds, attempting to maintain his composure.

As the conversation flows, your food arrives, and after enjoying the meal, you take a leisurely stroll, chatting along the way.

"Yunah is more of a 'clumsy older sister' than an organized one," you remark.

"I could gather that from your stories," Heeseung chuckles, then pauses, "Your shoes... they're untied." He bends down to quickly tie your shoelaces, and inexplicably, your heart begins to race. Why the sudden flutter in your stomach?

"T-thanks," you stutter, "H-how about we head back home now? It's getting late, you know?"

"Yeah, sure," Heeseung nods, masking how he was blushing too.

YOU LIE IN YOUR BED, STARING AT THE CEILING, thinking of all the times you've spent with Heeseung. All the times you babysat Jihyeon and he would always stop by and wave at you. All the time he would do small things to make your heart thump loudly. All the rides you took on his motorcycle. The scent of his leather jacket when you first met him after the party. All of that was nearly 4-5 months ago. Now here you are, lying down and thinking about Heeseung all night, memories keeping you up until 4 am.

“Do you think I’m in love?” you ask Iroha.

“I think you are,” Iroha responds with a smile. “You always talk about Heeseung, and he treats you really well.”

You pause and ponder Iroha’s words, contemplating what it truly means to you. Were all those butterflies in your stomach a sign of love? What even is love?You gaze out the window, reflecting for the last time. Now you realize it, Iroha was right. You are truly deeply in love with the one and only Lee Heeseung

“YN, YOU’RE ZONING OUT AGAIN.” Jihyeon pouts as you gaze out the window for the fourth time. 

“Sorry, Jihyeon. Where were we in the play?” you try to give a small smile that hopefully Jihyeon would forgive. 

“We were where the prince confessed to the princess!” Jihyeon exclaims. 

Confess. The word pops up in the brain as you try to gain your focus back, “Right.” You whisper before then zoning out again. God, why was Heeseung taking your whole mind? 

You quickly snap back to reality, “Sorry—so basically the princess confesses to the prince of how much she loves him. How much she makes her get butterflies in her stomach. The way he gives her jacket and talks to her all the time..” You continue on as your mind is only about Heeseung. All the stuff you were saying perfectly described him. 

“You know this kind of sounds like my brother,” Jihyeon says, as she plays with her dolls. 

“Huh?” you look up from talking. 

“Is it?” Jihyeon asks. 

“Uhm..” you hesitate. 

“It is.” Jihyeon replies, reading your expression, “it’s okay cause I have my mouth shut.” She grabs her fingers and pretends to zip her mouth close as you laugh at her cuteness. But she wasn’t wrong, everything you said was about Heeseung. Everything in your mind right now was Heeseung.

YOU AND YUNAH SETTLE INTO A cozy corner at the bustling café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling in the air. Thoughts of Heeseung, the boy who occupies far too much space in your mind, tug at your attention.

"I’m going to the bathroom," you say, forcing a smile as you make your way to the bathroom. Inside the dimly lit space, you take a deep breath, trying to push aside your thoughts. 

But as you stand there, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you can't help but overhear a conversation from the other side of the bathroom.

"Heeseung definitely likes me. Like in Lee Heeseung," a voice boasts confidently. "Remember that one day he kissed me once. He's my type too."

Your heart skips a beat as the words sink in, a wave of shock and betrayal washing over you. Why did you think he likes you? Why did you like him? 

You press a hand to your mouth, trying to stop the sobs that threaten to escape. Tears blur your vision as you struggle to make sense of heartbreak. 

With trembling hands, you splash cold water on your face, trying to compose yourself before facing Yunah again. You can't let her see you like this, can't bear to let her witness the shattered remnants of your heart.

Summoning every ounce of strength you have left, you force yourself to leave the bathroom. Yunah's concerned gaze meets yours, and you offer her a weak smile.

"I'm not feeling well," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I think I should go home."

Yunah's brow furrows with worry, and she reaches out to touch your arm. But you pull away gently, offering her a reassuring smile.

"I'll be okay," you lie, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "I just need some rest."

With a heavy heart, you bid farewell to Yunah and make your escape from the café. Once outside, tears streaming down your cheeks. Sobbing your eyes, you make your way back home with a broken heart. 

"YN, COME ON. HE’S SUCH A JERK" Wonhee consoles you as she wipes away your tears for what feels like the fifth time this week.

"He completely played me," you sob, feeling the weight of betrayal. "I thought there was something between us, but turns out he's just the brother of a kid I babysit. Why did I even like him?"

"YN…" Moka's voice is gentle as she squeezes your hand, "Please don't talk like that. What if there's a misunderstanding?"

"They mentioned 'Lee Heeseung,' it's obviously him," you sniffle, trying to compose yourself.

"Well, why waste your time on someone who doesn't deserve it?" Minju interjects.

"Minju's got a point," Wonhee agrees, "He's not worth your tears. He's just a player."

"But I can't help it, I think I love him," you admit, feeling torn.

"But Heeseung doesn't strike me as the type to play with someone's feelings like that. He's a good guy," Yunah suggests optimistically. "Maybe there's more to the story that you don't know."

"I don't even know anymore," you murmur, wiping your eyes. "All I know is I can't face anyone for the next week. I might even cancel all my plans. I just can't bear to see him right now."

HEESEUNG SAT AT HIS DESK, his mind consumed with worry. It had been a week since you abruptly canceled all your plans, and he hadn't heard from you since. His messages were delivered for nearly a week and according to Iroha, you hadn't left your house in days. 

Lost in his thoughts, he barely registered the sound of his bedroom door creaking open. Jihyeon stood in the doorway, her big brown eyes filled with concern.

"Heeseung, are you okay?" she asked softly, her small voice breaking through his anxious mind.

Heeseung forced a smile, trying to hide his emotion, "I'm fine, Jihyeon. Just a little tired."

Jihyeon frowned, unconvinced by his reassurance. "But you've been pacing around your room all day, and you haven't touched your food," she pointed out, her brow furrowing with worry.

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He couldn't hide anything from Jihyeon; she always saw right through him.

"I'm just worried about someone," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jihyeon's eyes widened with curiosity. "Is it YN?" she asked, her voice filled with innocence.

Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the mention of your name, and he nodded slowly. "Yes, it's YN. I haven't heard from her in days, and I'm starting to get really worried."

Jihyeon's expression softened, and she took a tentative step forward, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't worry, Heeseung. I'm sure she's okay. Maybe she just needs some time alone."

Heeseung wanted to believe her, but the nagging worry in the back of his mind refused to go away. "Hopefully."

Suddenly, Jihyeon's eyes lit up with excitement, as if she had just remembered something important. "Hey, Heeseung, do you like YN?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the question, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I…uh…what makes you ask that?"

Jihyeon shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "YN may have told me that you give her butterflies and so many other things"

Heeseung's breath caught in his throat at the revelation, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. You liked him? The realization filled him with a sense of hope he hadn't felt in days.

"I need to go find YN."he said, his voice choking with emotion.

THE NIGHT HUNG HEAVY WITH SILENCE. Tears streamed down your cheeks; the clock ticked, marking the passing of time as you sat alone in your room.

The sudden creak of the window startled you, and you turned to see Heeseung framed against the moonlit sky. His presence sent a jolt of surprise through you. 

"Heeseung?" you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions.

Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words to say. "YN, I…," he started, but his voice faltered as he struggled to find the courage to speak.

"What are you doing here, Heeseung?" you asked, your voice betraying the hurt and confusion.

Heeseung took a step closer, his eyes filled with concern as he noticed the tears staining your cheeks. "YN, what happened? Why are you crying?" he asked, his voice with genuine worry.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at his question,"Why do you care, Heeseung?" you snapped, your voice sharp"After everything that's happened, why do you even bother?"

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. "What do you mean, YN? What happened?" he asked.

The anger inside you boiled over, and you couldn't hold back the flood of emotions any longer. "You like another girl," you said, your voice trembling with hurt and anger. "You kissed her,"

Heeseung's face looked puzzled, his eyes with confusion"YN, it's not what you think," he started, but you cut him off.

"Don't even bother, Heeseung," you said, your voice filled with resignation. "I know the truth now. I know that everything you did to me was just to play."

Heeseung's heart shattered at your words, "YN, please, let me explain," he pleaded, his voice desperate. You shake your head no.

"YN, listen to me," he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of your quiet sobs. "Those are all false. I never kissed anyone. I don’t like anyone but…"

You turned to face him, the tears still streaming down your cheeks as you searched his eyes.

“But  you. I like you, YN," Heeseung confessed, "More than I've ever liked anyone before."

Your eyes widened, “What?”

“I like you YN.” Heeseung confessed, before you could process anything 

For a moment, the world fell away around you as he pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. Lips in sync, his hands snaking around your waist. 

But all too soon, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway outside your room, and Heeseung pulled away, his eyes wide with panic. "YN, open the door, I brought tea," Yunah's voice called out. He realized that he was about to be caught, and he turned to you. Without a word, he pressed his lips to yours one last time. 

As you stood there, the echo of his words ringing in your ears. He liked you. Heeseung Lee liked you back. 

THE WARM GLOW OF THE AFTERNOON SUN FILTERED through the curtains, casting a soft light over the cozy living room. You sat beside him on the comfortable couch, next to Heeseung’s side as you watched a movie together.

Jihyeon sat on the floor in front of the TV, completely engrossed in the movie. Every so often, she would glance back at the two of you, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she plotted her next adventure.

Heeseung wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "Is the movie good, angel?" he murmured, his voice soft with affection.

You nodded, leaning into his embrace with a contented sigh. "Mhmm, perfect," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As the movie played on, you found yourself drifting off, the gentle rhythm of Heeseung's heartbeat and the noise of Jihyeon’s laughter. 

When the movie finally came to an end, Jihyeon jumped up from her spot on the floor, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Can we play a game now?" she asked, bouncing up and down.

Heeseung chuckled at her enthusiasm, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Of course, Jihyeon," he said, shooting you a playful grin. "What do you want to play?"

Jihyeon's face lit up with delight as she rattled off a list of her favorite games, her energy infectious as she dragged the two of you into her world of make-believe. You and Heeseung played along with her antics, laughing and joking as you chased each other around the room, completely lost in the moment.

And as you watched Heeseung and Jihyeon, their laughter filling the air with joy, you knew that you would do anything to protect this precious moment, to hold onto it for as long as you possibly could. 

[evie-sturns]

ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

summary: matts been so busy with his filming schedule, that when he comes home you're basically begging for his touch for almost an hour, he finally gives in.

contains: smut, fingering, needy reader, softdom!Matt, swearing, small argument, crying.

--------------------└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘----------———

matt and I have been dating for almost a year, and in the past few months, he's been so busy to the point where I've just been hanging out at his house during the day, today is one of those days. I've been touch-deprived bed rotting in Matt's room.

the front door unlocks with a bang from downstairs, i sit up in matts bed, the blankets slowly falling off my chest. "matt!?" i call out, rubbing my face.

"hey baby", matt says while walking into the room, his voice is low and croaky. he doesnt even look my way as he slumps down on his desk chair.

he throws on his headphones, instantly starting to edit the Wednesday video.

"for fucks sake." i groan quietly, throwing my head back down into the pillows.

"matt." i whine, he looks over his shoulder at me "mm?" he says, his long fingers resting on the keyboard.

"i need you.." i say, maintaining eye contact with him.

he nods, turning back around to his computer, starting to edit again.

its not even been 10 minutes before my mouth is opening again.

"matthew."

"sweetheart what is it."he says, pulling his headphones off and spinning his chair back around to face the bed.

i pout my lips, "please come here, you can edit tommorow."

"i told you it'll be a while, i know your upset but this is very important." he says in a tone that reminds me of my childhood, hes acting like my dad.

"so more important than me then hm?" i roll my eyes.

"don't be silly." he replies.

-

45 minutes later

11:29pm

i've been laying in matts sheet for almost an hour while hes been editing, hes stopped replying to me everytime i say his name now.

i let out a dramatic sigh, which of course matt pays no attention to.

"for fucks sake matt!" i raise my voice, sitting up in bed.

"what. literally what." he says, slamming his headphones down into the desk.

"look, should i even be here? should i even be with you? you've quite literally payed no attention to me for like 3 months?! am i just a fuck toy now or what."

his eyes widen "oh please." he scoffs in disbelief, he head shaking in shock.

i stay silent, i need to have a proper conversation with him for once.

he powers off his computer before standing up abrubtly. he almost stomps over to the bed before laying down next to me. "happy?" he asks, his voice monotone.

"no, im fucking not matt." i say, my voice breaking followed by a sob.

i see matts head snap round to look at me, his eyes squinting.

"are you crying- shit.. wait."

i hide my face in my hands while matt sits up, he lets out a shaky breath.

"oh fuck no please don't cry" he says, placing a hand on the side of my face. "look at me, look at me y/n." matt says sternly.

i slowly peel my hands away from my face, tears now streaming down my cheeks. matts face is painted with guilt and concern.

"sit up." he says, which i do.

he grabs both sides of my face

"i love you so fucking much, you know that." matt says softly, staring into my eyes.

i shake my head "i'm not sure i know that anymore." i sniff.

matts jaw drops slightly, a silence filling the room.

"no, no nope. please don't ever say that." he starts.

"i am insanely grateful for you, work has been piling up like crazy and i know, i know i haven't had time for other people but once i get my yesterday's problem launched everything will be calm."

i hear the front door open from downstairs, chris and nicks chatter getting louder as they walk upstairs, but matt doesn't even bat an eye as he keeps rambling on.

"you're my favorite person ever, and i know i've been a proper dick these past weeks, but tommorow i have a day off, and if you would want we could go out, or-.. just lay here the whole day i really dont mind."

i wipe my eyes, leaning foward and grabbing matts jaw, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

we both pull away to catch our breath "can i do anything for you right now? to make you feel better.." matt says gentley, playing with my hair.

i nod, "just one thing.."

he nods, "yeah?" he smiles sweetly at me.

"i don't wanna say itt.." i say, my cheeks turning red

he lets out a small laugh, “it can’t be that bad"

i grab his hand, rings decorating his pinky finger, his pointer and his thumb.

i push down all of his fingers execpt for two, the ring finger and middle finger.

matt nods understandingly “yeah?”

“yeah..” i say back.

“you’ve got to tell me with your words gorgeous.”

“i need your fingers.” i reply

“where do you need them?” he teases back.

“in.. me?”

“there you go.” matt says, a smile spread across his face.

i lay back down in the sheets, peeling my shirt off my body. matt lays down too, “can you lay on your side for me?” he says, which i do.

he turns onto his side aswell, grabbing my waist and pulling me towards his body, my bare back pressed against the soft fabric of his shirt covering his torso.

he spoons me as his hand, which is decorated in rings, snakes round to the waist band of my pyjama shorts.

i feel his chest rise and fall against my back as his hand slowly pulls down the shorts to my knees.

matt traces random shapes up the inside of my thigh, slowly getting towards where i need him most.

a pathetic moan escapes my mouth as the cold metal of his ring grazes past my hole.

i haven’t been touched in so long that the smallest touch is embarrassingly driving me crazy.

“please.” i groan out, earning a small chuckle from matt into the back of my hair.

i look down at matts hand, which is resting on my pelvic bone.

"matt please-" i start but he cuts me off "i know, can you be nice and quiet for me? chris and nick are across the hall."

i nod "yes- yeah" i instantly reply.

his two fingers dip down to my clit, he rubs it slowly, barely applying pressure.

his elbow rests on my hip as his fingers pick up the pace, i feel matts breaths from behind me as i reverse back into him more, my back and ass fully pressed against matts chest and crotch.

i feel one of his fingers push against my entrance before he presses fully inside of me, his long finger filling me up. "fuck.." i say softly.

the feeling from matt ive been craving all day is turning me into a moaning mess.

he quickly adds his second finger, curling both of them inside of me. i grip the bedsheets in front of me as he repeatedly hits my g-spot.

i slam a hand over my mouth as i feel the knot in my stomach build up.

the fact i have to be quiet is making this 10 times hotter due to the fact matt usually lets me be as loud as i need to be, which is always loud.

"god 'feel so good around my fingers." matt says, his voice hoarse from behind me.

that'll do it

the knot in my stomach snaps, my hand thats on my mouth falls down into the mattress, gripping the sheets, "fuck matt oh my god!" i scream out, clenching around his fingers.

i feel matts breaths hitch against my back, he instantly pulls his fingers out of me and covers my mouth. "shh, shush" he laughs slightly.

i catch my breath slowly as matts hands keep on my mouth.

i roll over onto my back, matts still laying on his side.

"gross" i smile, "oh shit- yeah." matt says, taking the hand which was just inside me off my mouth.

i cuddle up next to him "thank you" i whisper as i pull up the blankets.

"no- no thank you for forgiving me" he says, rubbing my arms softly.

my eyelids feel heavy, somehow tired after doing nothing all day. matts tense underneath me, i assume hes just mad at himself about earlier but then the realization hits me that hes just fingered me for a few minutes without getting anything back.

"matt" i say, sitting up and pulling the blankets down. "what?" matt says, running a hand through his hair.

i point to his sweatpants, that have a very obvious tent.

"you're hard! why didn't you tell me i could've helped?" i say, reaching for his waistband.

matt grabs my wrist, stopping me "no- no its okay, i don't want you to have to do anything for me after i've been shitty to you."

"thats gotta hurt matt cmon, its okay." i laugh slightly, resisting matts grip on my wrist.

"no, no go to sleep sweetheart it'll go away in like 5 minutes." he says with a smile, pulling the blanket back up over us and playing with my hair.

i sigh "are you sure, i dont mind helping-" he cuts me off "im sure, get some rest."

-

10 minutes later.

i sit up in bed after hearing the bathroom door slam shut. matts no longer next to me.

my eyebrows scrunch as i stand up out of bed, stumbling over to the bedroom door and opening it.

i walk down the corrider to nicks room, i open it to find him fast asleep with chris on their beanbag.

i shut their door, walking over to the bathroom door.

i slowly push it open to find matt standing over the toilet, his eyes shut and head thrown back as he repetedy runs his ringed hand up and down his length quickly.

"oh-"

matts eyes open and his head swings round to look at me "what are you doing!" he says, frantically pulling up his sweatpants.

"im sorry im sorry!" i say, slamming the bathroom door shut.

i hear the water run before matt walks out of the bathroom only a few seconds later, his cheeks are a deep red and he has small droplets of sweat on his forehead.

he smiles at me awkwardly but i instantly grab his shoulders and spin him round.

"matthew go finish up in there, you've been hard for almost half an hour."

"o-okay yep thank you." he replies instantly, speed-walking back into the bathroom eagerly, slamming the door shut behind him.

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

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 10 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After just two days back home, Bradley takes you on a second date. He wants more, and you don't seem to mind when he can't keep his hands and lips to himself.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being boyfriend material

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

"Shit."

It had been such a long time since Bradley wore anything other than a flight suit, a khaki uniform or gym clothes, he had no idea what he was supposed to wear to dinner tonight. You mentioned weeks ago you thought Italian food sounded nice for a second date, and he agreed wholeheartedly. He managed to snag a table for the two of you at Salvatore's, and he was absolutely prepared to drop over five hundred bucks, but his clothing was becoming a situation.

After spending the entire day with you yesterday, Saturday morning was a bit of a reality check. He was trying to work through three loads of laundry while he sorted through a box of mail. There was nothing sweet in there like the packages you and your class sent to him while he was deployed. It was mostly bills that had already been automatically paid online, mortgage statements, and junk. Then he started folding laundry, somehow expecting some articles of clothing that weren't threadbare tee shirts or tropical print button downs to jump out at him.

"Why don't you have normal clothing?" he asked himself as he picked up his phone now that it was late enough to text you. He wanted to make sure you were okay with grabbing a drink before the dinner reservation which wasn't until 7:45. But when he unlocked his phone, instead of zero new messages, he found a picture you sent seven minutes ago. 

"Oh my god," he groaned softly, dropping onto his bed next to some unfolded laundry. You were in your own bed wearing his favorite sweatshirt and a bright smile.

Good morning, Handsome. Last night felt like a dream, but your sweatshirt is real, so it must have happened.

He scrambled to write back, clothing crisis forgotten. God, he wanted to be in that bed in the worst way. Things would definitely get out of hand pretty quickly, but he knew those first few kisses would be the sweetest things. After last night at the beach, waiting for a few more dates was going to be the challenge of his life, but he wanted you to know he was in this for the long haul. Especially after you mentioned that you thought he may have ghosted you.

Hey, Gorgeous. My sweatshirt looks way better on you than it ever did on me. Did you sleep in it?

He hit send and then wished he hadn't asked that question. He sounded like a horny twenty year old. It was bad enough that he had to practically beg you to go inside your apartment last night while you were kissing his neck, but he didn't want to embarrass himself.

Of course I did. It smells like you. The only thing better would be having you in my bed, too...

How the hell was he supposed to wait until this evening to see you? He tossed his phone aside. His blood felt like it was on fire, and he was sweating. Never before had he wanted to move this fast from a first date to making things official. But he knew you. He'd been working up to this point for months. And the Thai dinner with Prosecco on the beach wasn't really a first date. That felt closer to a reunion with a girlfriend than anything else. The only thing missing for that to have been true was a sleepover instead of him taking you home for the night. 

He was too many steps ahead right now. You hadn't yet done the drive down to Coronado from Mira Mesa for yourself, but he already caught himself wondering if you'd consider moving in with him in the future. "You need to relax," he ground out through gritted teeth. "You'll scare her away." He cracked his neck and forced himself to fold a stack of underwear before picking up his phone to reply.

I don't want to rush things, but your bed does look very comfortable. I'm confident we could get cozy there... You're making me blush. I need to get this conversation back on track. Cocktails before dinner at Salvatore's? I'll pick you up at 5:30?

A few minutes later, you responded with a photo of you still all snuggled up in bed, smiling and giving him a thumbs up in his shirt.

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

"Just in case," you muttered, making sure your bedding was straightened and your room was tidy. You left Bradley's TOP GUN sweatshirt folded on your pillow, but you certainly wouldn't mind having the man himself in your bed tonight. Your fingers and toes tingled when you thought about it. You bit your lip and scooped up his shirt, inhaling his scent one more time before you realized he would be here any minute.

When he knocked on your door, you set it back on your pillow and glanced at yourself in the mirror as you bounced past it. Cocktails and dinner at Salvatore's would have been a major splurge for a night out for you, but Bradley selected the restaurant. All you did was mention Italian food, and he really ran with it. You'd have been happy with some pizza and breadsticks, simply excited he remembered you mentioned Italian food at all, but this called for your littlest black dress and your brightest red lipstick. 

"I'm coming!" you called, going as fast as you could in your black heels, giggling at the double meaning. You had to compose yourself before you could open the door, and when you did, you were met with the actual man of your dreams.

"Hey, Gorgeous." Bradley's crooked little smile faltered a bit as his gaze slid down from your eyes to your lips, but he didn't stop there. He was shamelessly checking you out as a pretty shade of pink crept up into his cheeks, and you did a slow turn for him. 

Your skin felt warm as you met his eyes after doing a full circle. His lips were parted as you whispered, "Hi," and reached for his hand. As soon as your skin met his, he pulled you closer to him. "Bradley." His lips were on yours as he backed you up into your apartment until you softly met the wall behind you. He was big and warm, and you were holding his left hand while his right one came up to your face.

He broke the kiss by tipping your chin up so you were looking at him. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he crooned softly. Your lipstick was smudged along his mouth, and his tongue darted out to taste it before he said, "I'm fucking crazy about you."

His rough thumb dragged along your bottom lip as you said, "And you've never even seen me dispose of a spider for you."

"Baby," he rasped. "I'd probably propose."

A shocked giggle escaped you, and his crooked grin was back as he kept you there against your wall with your door wide open. You reached up and ran your fingers along the collar of his oxford shirt before tugging on the fabric until his lips were on yours again. You let your head tip back against the wall as he devoured you, tasting your lips, tongue and teeth before his forehead came to rest gently on yours.

"You know," you gasped, trying to catch your breath, "I thought all your emails were sweet and romantic."

He chuckled as he pulled away from you. "I was hoping I was doing okay in person, too."

You shrugged playfully and tried to spin out of his grasp, but his hand was still wrapped up in yours. He followed you to your coffee table so you could grab your purse as you casually told him, "You're even better in person than I thought you'd be."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, pulling you close again. "You like my stupid looking clothes and how I can eat three meals for dinner?"

He was so endearing, you didn't know how to handle him. So you kissed him again and whispered, "I like all of it." You let your fingers trail along his shirt buttons as you said, "You look nice in this, but I can already tell you're more comfortable in your colorful Aloha shirts and jeans. And I love that you can eat three meals for dinner, because we ended up sharing everything last night."

"Let's go," he coaxed, leading you toward your door. "I'll let you pick whatever you want to try at Salvatore's. I don't usually like sharing my food, but there's just something about you, Gorgeous. You make me feel comfortable."

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

You tried to tell Bradley twice that he still had some of your lipstick smudged on his face, but he just shrugged and said, "Good," in response both times. If he didn't mind, then neither did you. It couldn't be any more obvious that he was with you when the exact color that was on your lips was also on his. You listened to him hum along to the retro oldies station as he merged onto the coastal highway while you took a minute to fix up your own smudged lipstick.

He grinned over at you as you put your makeup away and said, "Come on, Baby. If you didn't want it on my face, then you wouldn't be putting more on your lips."

Every time he made a bold statement like that, you wanted to cancel dinner altogether and take him to your bedroom. "I never said I didn't want it on your face. It looks good." 

He reached out blindly for your hand, and you grabbed his immediately. "You did tell me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."

"Yeah," you muttered. "Don't stop doing that." You knew things with him were going to get physical pretty quickly, but you'd never been quite this attracted to someone before. You drew little shapes on his palm as you asked, "How was your first night back in your own bed after so many months away?"

He groaned softly. "Epic. Fantastic. I don't fit very well in an extra long twin bed."

"No, I would imagine you don't," you said with a laugh as you watched him drive his Bronco in the evening sunlight.

He licked his lips and grinned as he said, "Would have been better if you were there though."

The eruption of butterflies in your belly left you biting your lip. You wanted to respond, but you needed to be able to make it through dinner before you were hanging off of him again like you were last night. That's when he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, treating you to his mustache there. "Feel like getting a drink or two in the lounge first? Maybe a bottle of wine?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, ready to go anywhere he took you. As soon as he parked, he jogged around to help you down, letting you slide against his body with your hands on his shoulders. You wobbled a bit in your shoes, but he kept you steady.

"You good?" he asked as he leaned in, his lips brushing the side of your neck as his arm wrapped around your waist.

"So good," you promised. "Never better."

Bradley kept his hand right there on your hip as he led you along the sidewalk toward the restaurant. The lounge was packed; this was definitely a popular weekend date night locale. Couples filled the space with noisy conversation, but you could hear Bradley perfectly as his lips found your ear when he said, "There's an empty stool at the far end of the bar." He gave your hip a little squeeze as you headed for it, and he leaned on the bar next to you. "Why don't you pick out a bottle of wine or whatever you want? I'll go let the hostess know we'll be hanging out in the lounge."

When you agreed, he kissed your lips like the two of you had been at this for years, not just since yesterday. You weren't the only one who watched him walk away in his snug pants and Oxford shirt that somehow showed off his biceps. He was just that good looking. When you saw him without a shirt on, you'd probably faint and need him to revive you. When the bartender came over, you were chuckling to yourself at the idea of having sex with Bradley while he kept his shirt on to save you from that fate.

"Can I get you a drink?"

You looked at him in a daze, realizing you meant to choose a bottle of wine. You blurted out what kind you liked best, and with a nod and a smile, he turned to fill your request. And that's when you finally looked at the menu and realized the bottle was more than a hundred and fifty dollars.

"Oh shit." But it was too late. He had already opened it and was heading your way with it. You scrambled in your purse for your wallet, cringing at the idea of Bradley seeing the bill when you could have simply ordered a cocktail instead. Just as the bartender was pouring out a bit of the wine for you to try, you found your credit card successfully. And that was also when Bradley came back.

"They'll come get us when our table's ready," he said. "I told them it would be easy to find me since my date is the most beautiful woman in the restaurant." He watched the bartender pick up a second glass and said, "Oh perfect, you found some wine that you like."

You nodded and tried your best to pass your credit card across the bar undetected with your hand covering it. "I sure did."

Bradley's eyes followed your hand as he took a sip of the wine. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," you told him, picking up your own glass with your other hand. You tasted the wine and nodded at the bartender, and then he filled up both glasses while Bradley reached for your credit card.

"That's not necessary, Gorgeous. You can put that away."

You waited until the bartender walked off before you shook your head. "Let me pay for the wine. I was distracted and just picked a random bottle before I looked at the price, and then it was too late because he already had it opened. It's expensive."

Bradley looked completely unfazed as he eased your card from your hand and tucked it back into your wallet. "I don't care about that."

"I do," you said softly in your embarrassment. "I don't want you to think that's what I expected."

Bradley laughed in response. "First of all, I would never think that. And second, I was on that aircraft carrier for so long, and this wine tastes so good, and you look so pretty... I don't even want to tell you how much I'd be willing to pay for that bottle of wine and our dinner."

You simultaneously felt better and a little warm. "Okay, fine. But next time we go out for dinner, we're getting burgers from In-N-Out, and I'm paying."

His smile grew as you sipped your wine which really was quite good. "So that means you want to go out again?"

You rolled your eyes up at him where he stood, his hand brushing your knee where it was crossed over your other leg. "I'm about to make an In-N-Out reservation right now."

"Perfect," he replied. "Which night? I have to work late a few days next week to get caught up on everything I missed while I was away."

"You're ridiculous," you told him with a laugh. "How about Wednesday?"

His fingers toyed with the hem of your dress as he said, "Wednesday's good. You also need to let me know when I can visit your classroom again." His words were so sweet, and his gaze was sincere, but the feel of his fingertips inching along your skin above your knee was something else. 

You set your glass down next to your purse and reached for his hand, letting his fingers slip underneath your dress as you met his brown eyes. When he teased your skin with his rough hands, you reached for his shirt, and Bradley came willingly. Salvatore's didn't provide the two of you with the same level of privacy as the beach last night had, but you didn't really care, and he didn't seem to either.

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

You had the softest skin. How was he supposed to keep his hands off you? And that red lipstick made your little pout when he teased you even more delectable than he could have imagined. And he'd been doing plenty of imagining for the last few months. He'd imagined you in a variety of scenarios with him, but so far being with you in person surpassed everything his vivid thoughts came up with.

When he mentioned visiting you at work, you treated him to the silky soft feel of your skin, and then you literally grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged until he was kissing you. Oh god, he was never going to recover from this. He had to wrap his hand around the middle of your thigh to keep himself from going any further as you moaned softly into his mouth. He was absolutely starving and a little dizzy from the wine, but he was thinking about skipping dinner in favor of the solitude of the Bronco right now.

"Mr. Bradshaw?"

Your tongue was slowly tasting his when you jerked away from him as the hostess strolled over. Embarrassed, you turned toward the bar as Bradley grunted in response at the young woman who told him the table was ready for the two of you. And maybe that wasn't a bad thing, because feeling you up in the middle of the crowded lounge wasn't something he'd feel good about later. At least not on the second date. He'd bring you back here in a few months and see if the two of you even made it to dinner.

With a smile, he reached for your free hand after you picked up your glass. You halfway hid your face against his bicep as the hostess picked up the bottle and led the way through the lounge and into the restaurant. Bradley kissed your forehead and murmured, "If I could keep my hands off of you, this wouldn't be a problem."

You peered up at him through your lashes. "Hanging out on your couch alone is sounding better and better."

"Fuck," he groaned softly as you released his hand and took a seat at the table set for two which was overlooking the bay. Bradley pushed your chair in, and his thumbs met your bare arms. He took a few deep breaths before taking the seat opposite yours and accepted one of the menus as he listened to the specials while he looked at your face. He muttered some sort of response, and then the two of you were alone.

You emptied the remainder of the wine between his glass and yours, and then Bradley watched you lick a little droplet from your thumb as you smiled at him. "So which three dinners are you planning on ordering tonight?"

It took him a second to realize that he was holding an open menu even though he hadn't looked at it once. He cleared his throat and said, "Definitely some homemade spaghetti and meatballs. The last time I ate spaghetti, it was overcooked and sad, and I had to go back to my bunk and think about you to make myself feel better." You covered your mouth with one hand while you laughed, and it was the most charming thing he'd ever seen. "I'm so serious, Gorgeous. I got a plate of soggy noodles, and literally the only thing that made it better was imagining you teaching your class about military grade jets and aviation."

Your pretty eyes were glittering as you told him, "I keep extending my lessons on the topic, and you are completely to blame for that. After the first time you responded to us, my students asked about you every single day. They are completely enamored with you."

"Yeah? Just them? Or you too?" He knew his words were reminiscent of the way you'd tried to blame it on your kids when you asked him to send you a picture so you could see what he looked like.

"Hmm." You pretended to peruse your menu. "I'm thinking about the ravioli. Or maybe the penne with vodka sauce." Your foot tapped his leg beneath the table, and he had to fight the urge to reach under and touch your skin again. You were teasing him in every way right now, and he was absolutely loving it. When the waiter dropped off glasses of water and some freshly baked bread, he asked if you wanted anything else to drink.

"You want another bottle of wine, Gorgeous?" Bradley asked, deciding to tease you right back.

"Absolutely not," you told him, looking at him like he had two heads before kindly telling the waiter, "No, thank you."

He was still laughing when he picked up a piece of bread. "So we'll get spaghetti, penne and ravioli?"

"You don't have to order what I want," you told him, your foot still running along his calf while your expression dripped with innocence.

"No. I want to though." It was kind of fun spoiling you with something as simple as dinner. Vanessa would have made a comment by now about how much she hated the slightly kitschy, over the top restaurant, even if the food was supposed to be immaculate. You didn't seem to mind one bit that he ordered three massive entrees and intended to finish whatever you didn't. Vanessa always got embarrassed, but all you said was that you were excited to try all three.

There was never a lull in conversation. You actually listened to Bradley when he was talking, and he could have listened to you all night.

"So you know how last night I mentioned... that I'd never really thought about dating someone in the military who deploys for work?"

"Yeah," Bradley rasped, not sure he loved where the conversation was heading.

You looked a little apprehensive as you said, "I was thinking about it more last night after you dropped me off." 

"And?"

You kind of shrugged and said, "I think I'd actually be okay with it, as long as it's you. It almost feels like we got some big, scary thing out of the way already, you know? And I could always write to you, because I kind of loved doing that. And yes, Bradley, I am also completely enamored with you."

It was almost a shame that the food arrived then, because as you started to cut into an enormous ravioli, all he could think to say was, "I'm completely enamored with you, too."

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

You were so full from dinner, you didn't know how Bradley could walk. He ate at least two times what you did, and then he insisted on ordering a piece of cheesecake. When you caught sight of the bill, you tried not to gasp, because it was more than you spend on groceries for a whole month. But he handed over his credit card and signed his name without even breaking conversation with you. And now you were discreetly grabbing a handful of mints on your way out of the restaurant as he held your hand.

It was late, and you knew he was still tired. He mentioned briefly that he had a lot of chores to do this week amidst some late nights at work, but you didn't know how you'd be able to wait until Wednesday to see him again. When he started up the Bronco and headed in the direction of your apartment, your mind flooded with questions, but he asked you one first.

"I already have plans tomorrow, but I don't think I can wait until Wednesday to see you again. What time do you usually get to school?"

"7:20."

"Okay. And what kind of coffee do you like?"

You couldn't stop smiling as you told him what you usually ordered on the rare occasion you had time to stop at Starbucks. You kind of already felt like he was spoiling you.

"Have you memorized everything I've ever told you?"

"Yep," he replied, his handsome smile evident in the street lights. "And I've gotta say, you're one of a kind, Gorgeous."

You honestly didn't want the ride to end. The fact that there was no buffer of traffic to add to the twenty minute drive made you pout a little bit. Bradley's deep voice layered over the music playing on the radio while he held your hand was intoxicating, but you made a disappointed sound as he parked in front of your building.

When he released your hand to kill the engine in the near darkness, all you could see was his handsome profile. "You thought the drive would be too much for me," you whispered. "But when I'm in the car with you, I don't want it to end."

He cleared his throat and softly said, "Well, we don't have to get out quite yet if you don't want to."

Your pout turned into a grin as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "I can tell you still need to catch up on some sleep. I don't want to keep you out too late, Bradley."

He chuckled and undid his own seatbelt. "Why don't you come a little closer and say my name again."

As you eased yourself onto your hands and knees, you scooted across the seat and whispered, "Bradley," with a little laugh.

"Closer?" he asked, and you crawled over to him until you were able to kiss his cheek.

"Bradley."

He turned his head so his lips met yours, and he whispered, "Closer," against your mouth.

You were immediately in his lap, your hands resting on his chest as the steering wheel met your lower back. Your lips found his scarred cheek just like last night, and you kissed your way along his mustache and the side of his nose. You let your hands drift slowly down over his abs until they met the leather of his belt, and you whispered his name one more time.

His big hands closed around your wrists as he groaned, "You really love teasing me."

You nodded and said, "I really do," as he guided your hands up to his shoulders and around his neck.

"You're really good at it, Baby. All those pictures of you in your bed are enough to get a man through a deployment and then promptly kill him once he's on dry land if he can't touch you immediately."

He kissed the inside of your arm, and you scooted your body a little closer to his. "You can touch me." Your words elicited a deep groan as he slid his big hands along your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He kissed your lips, swiping his tongue against yours as his fingers trailed down your sides. You almost cried out when his thumbs grazed the sides of your breasts before he gently squeezed your waist and your hips.

You could invite him to stay over. You didn't think he'd turn you down if you did. But all you could manage to say was, "Bradley," between kisses.

He tipped his head back against the headrest and whispered, "I love the way that sounds." His eyes were glittering in the darkness as he looked at your face and your body, and you remembered his text message from earlier.

I don't want to rush things

It was hard for you to remember that yesterday in your classroom was the first time you touched him. The first time you heard his voice in person. As much as you wanted to lean in close and ask him to stay, instead you kissed his ear and said, "You promised me movie night on your couch. When?"

"Friday?" he asked, kissing along your neck. "Let me end the week with my Gorgeous girl?"

"Yes."

You were afraid you were going to melt right out onto the pavement when he opened his door, but he helped you down and kept his arm wrapped around you. Bradley walked a half step behind you in the darkness all the way to your apartment. While there was no expectation that he was going to join you inside, you ended up pinned against your door, because it didn't seem like he was quite ready to leave yet either. 

He was eager. You could feel it as his lips found your neck again. He smiled against you as he whispered your name in that deep raspy voice. "Since you don't like surprises, I'm telling you right now that you should expect to see me in the parking lot at your school on Monday morning. Sound okay?"

"Oh god, yes," you whined as he released you. There were so many things you wanted to tell him as he put a foot of space between your bodies, really giving you a chance to see his pink cheeks and the way he was breathing deeply. You blurted out, "I'm falling so hard for you."

His crooked little grin was back as he nodded at your door. "Lock it behind you. And when you get in bed, in my sweatshirt, send me another selfie."

"I will," you promised, and you did exactly what he said. A minute after you texted the photo, you got a message back from him.

I think I'm falling even harder.

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

I'm so obsessed with them. She was so concerned about that bottle of wine! And he really wasn't lol. Coffee and burgers and a couch date coming up. This story will be 18+ soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 11

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[joeloverture]

morning cardio | dbf!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog pairing: dbf!neighbor!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] your neighbor and dad's longtime buddy catches you sneaking back home after an underwhelming hook-up. you want more — he provides. warnings: (18+ mdni) dbf!neighbor!joel, age gap (23/50), reader has a bad relationship with her father, reader's father is overly strict, reader hooks up with an oc, dirty talk, soft!dom joel, degradation, praise, thigh riding, 1 spank, titty slapping, daddy kink, exhibitionism but nobody sees, almost caught, heavy petting, misogyny for sexiness that joel doesn't actually believe in since he's a sweetheart [no use of y/n] word count: 3.7k a/n: watch me almost exclusively post dbf joel. watch me. also, mind the tags, they've changed slightly since i posted the teaser. this was supposed to be a series. this is no longer the case bc i'm indecisive. sorry.

Mistake number one: your eyes are crusted shut with the mascara you’d forgotten to wipe off.

Mistake number two: the bed you wake up in is not your own.

Mistake number three: sleeping with your neighbor.

Rubbing your mascara-sealed eyes, you blink yourself into consciousness and instantly regret it. There’s a moment of stillness, time stretching as you take in the room underneath the swelling orange sunlight. The window is cracked just enough to give you a glimpse at the world outside — birds chirping, sprinklers spritzing, cars crunching gravel as they pull out of the driveway. Surrounding the narrow, rumpled bed is a graveyard of orphaned socks. A box fan whirrs in the corner. The room had felt much cleaner past midnight when it was only the yellowed street lamp outside shining through the window. Then you spot the digital clock on the cluttered bedside table reads 6:10, ten minutes later than you’d wanted to be awake for, and time returns to its regular pace.

Your heart kicks awake in your chest, veins going cold. You kick the sheets off of your sweaty body, roll out of bed, and stumble two steps before planting your feet on the carpet below. Even that isn’t enough to stir your hookup. Dylan Andrews.

It’d seemed like a good enough idea at the time. Both of you were home for spring break. Both of you had flirted at the block party with each other. He was only decent-looking and mediocre with his hands, but you needed a break from spending another night in your childhood bedroom. What better way to do it than with a dick appointment?

Again. It’d seemed like a good enough idea at the time. Sneaking out underneath the nose of your strict, tough-as-nails dad was the easy part. Sneaking back in? Less easy. And to make matters worse, you were already ten minutes behind.

Shit.

You tiptoe across the room, naked as the day you were born, and stuff your underappreciated lingerie into your backpack. Without even putting your panties or bra on, you hop into your shorts and wrestle with your hoodie. By the time you’re out of Dylan’s room, it’s 6:12.

The difference between your dad and Dylan’s mom? She doesn’t give a shit what side of town Dylan wakes up on or how much alcohol is sloshing around in his system as long as he’s safe. You’re not the first girl to do the walk of shame out of Ms. Andrews' generic McMansion house, and you’re far from the last.

She’s downstairs in front of the coffee maker, still wearing her pajamas and doing a Dollar General crossword when you slip past her kitchen unnoticed. The door clangs shut behind you, and you figure she must see you walking down the cul-de-sac.

Your dad always leaves for work at 6:45 after a freezing cold shower and a steaming cup of black coffee for balance. You can only hope his shower ran a little late and that he isn’t at the dining room table already. Cramming two steps into one, you continue with your beeline down the awakening street.

You’re followed home by the mailboxes and flower beds, the pebbles you kick with every step. You’re almost to the property line, prepared to make a mad dash to your front door when you hear the faint call of your name. You skid to a stop, and turn to face the source: the craftsman-style house next door.

And there he is – Joel Miller, sitting on one of the cushioned chairs of his front porch in nothing but his sleep shorts and a t-shirt, legs spread as wide as the chair can accommodate. There’s a smug, knowing look on his face, one that says I’ve caught you. See how you can get out of this.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been face to face with Joel — Mr. Miller. You’d think you’d see him more often, with him being your dad’s buddy and your neighbor, but it’s been since summer. You’re sure he must be having the time of his life by joining your just got laid parade.

“You’re up awful early,” he calls, beckoning you up the driveway with a come-hither movement of his fingers. Leaving your dignity at the curb, you pad up the yard to his porch, climbing one of the stairs to lean against the gutter that feeds into his shrubbery. Pollen and moss is scattered across the wooden deck, surrounding a package that he hasn’t bothered to pick up yet. His guitar is off to the side, propped up against the doorway of the house. You wonder if he’d been playing when he’d seen you walking by.

Joel’s covered for you before, briefly and sparingly. Taken the fall for the half-empty bottle of fireball in your dresser even though he’d never go within ten feet of that shit, blamed it on himself for accidentally leaving it behind after fixing a wheel that had jumped off track for you. Even though your dad had chewed him out for drinking on the job, he’d still managed to sneak it back to you with the wise words of hiding it in a sock next time. You’d been two months past your twenty-first when that had happened, and maybe Joel had pitied you after realizing how authoritarian his friend was.

You aren’t as sure if he’ll pity you now.

“Needed some fresh air,” you defend lamely, hands hanging limp by your sides.

“Needed some cock?” he corrects, and his bluntness makes you choke. He seems relaxed for the words that just came out of his mouth, fingers drumming on his impossibly large thighs, a playful smirk resting on his lips.

You sputter, “No! Jesus, what the hell–”

“I got eyes, hun. Saw you leave that Andrews kid’s place. Clearly he didn’t stick it to ya that good if you’re still walkin’ steady,” he comments. His head tilts.

“Joel,” you hiss, eyes flitting to your dad’s house next door. He seems to read your mind, his smirk widening.

“Wonder what your pops would think. Bet I have a pretty good idea. His little angel, sneakin’ around and whorin’ herself out.” He clicks his tongue at you. “A damn shame.”

Heat spools low in your stomach and down to your unsatisfied center. You wish you’d worn darker colored shorts instead of the flimsy gray things you have on. There’s no barrier of your panties to stop yourself from leaking all over them, and with the way Joel’s looking at you, eyes dark and sly, you’re wishing there was.

“Can’t even imagine what you’re gettin’ up to at that college ‘a yours. Bet you had five guys inside of ya all at once, and I sure ain’t talkin’ about burgers, hun.” He lounges back in his chair, watching you.

You feel yourself gush. Heat burns in your thighs, and they rub together on instinct, seeking to extinguish that brimming ache between your legs. You bunch your hands in the fabric of your sweatshirt and can’t stop yourself from squirming underneath his gaze. It’s not like you’ve never thought about this, this with him of all people when you’re underneath your covers and your hand finds the warm junction between your thighs. Always unattainable. Always just out of reach.

You whisper again, “Joel,” but this time, it comes out as more of a moan. Humiliation warms your cheeks and chest, forming a different kind of pit in your stomach.

“Hmmmm?” Joel hums at you with a raised brow. He’s casual, indifferent, almost. But then his eyes flicker up and down, stopping at the wet patch smeared across the front of your shorts, the way your thighs press tight, tensing before letting go. “Ah. A little slut shamin’ gets you all riled up, hun?” That tears a whimper from you. He does that stupid come hither motion again, and like a lost dog, you listen. Standing in front of him, you feel completely, utterly exposed.

He adjusts himself in his chair, and you swallow the building lump in your throat when you see his bulge hardening. It sends another zap of heat to your core, and then another, more surprised one when his hand goes up to grab at your tit. Your breath catches as he thumbs one of your hardened nipples. A triumphant noise echoes out of him. “Braless, too?” His other hand goes down to your shorts, playing with the waistband. “Prancin’ around in these short, skimpy things, too. Practically giving the whole neighborhood a free peep show.”

His hand slides lower. Lower. Pans over to the crease of your thigh and then his thumb is planting over your clit, rubbing only once before he pulls away. “Messy pussy. Bet you stained the guys sheets.”

You’re quiet, staring at him, his wicked fucking expression, those hands that look like sin itself. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Ah. Poor baby. All this effort and you didn’t even get to come.” He just looks at you. Unmoving. Not doing a single damn thing to get you there.

“Please, Joel,” you whisper, embarrassed by the gritty need already embedded into your voice when he’s hardly even touched you.

And he’s still wearing that wolfish look, that tainted-with-intention gleam in his eyes that tells you he knows exactly what you do want when he asks, “What? What do you want?” He licks his lips, a fleeting moment.

You look over your shoulder, at the rising street. Anyone could have their windows cracked. Anyone could hear you confess on this porch. Still, you murmur, “I… I want you to make me come, Joel.” Your voice shivers a little bit along with the stroke of wind that wisps against the backs of your thighs.

His brows raise together, now. His head tips forward. “What was that? A little louder. You know, my ears really ain’t the sharpest these days…”

Fucking bastard.

“I want,” you say again, fighting to stop your voice from wavering, to keep it not too loud but not too quiet. “you to make me come.”

Joel sucks on his teeth for a second. “Ohhh. Now I don’t think that’s really fair, hun.” He gives you a mockingly sad look.

“Why?” you ask, and you know you sound as whiny as a petulant child. But he’d been correct earlier. You put in all of this effort, sneaking out for a thrilling night that had turned into something more like two sweaty bodies moving together and only one of them feeling good from it. You want to feel good. You’re tired of looking at the right and the wrong. Joel’s sitting in front of you, his thumb still smelling like your arousal; that’s what’s right.

“You’re out here breakin’ all the rules. Shouldn’t be rewarding you for that, sweetheart. Besides, it’s a little fucked up, dontcha think? Makin’ you come all over me while your pops, my buddy, is none the wiser gettin’ ready for work next door?” His vulgarity only weakens you even more, pussy clenching and begging to be filled. You’re about to protest again when he cuts in, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t help ya out.”

Your heart pedals in your chest, eager and wanting. But Joel, instead of getting up and elbowing you inside like you expect, stays right where he is. He pats one of his splayed thighs, the grin on his face only widening. Your face contorts. Joel hears your question before you ask.

“What? Never humped someone’s leg before? With how much of a bitch in heat you’re actin’ right now, I’m surprised.” You can feel the shock on your face plain as day. Joel jerks his head down to his thigh, egging you on. “Better hurry up if you want my help, sweetheart. Pretty sure your dad’s about to get goin’, and I sure don’t have all day, either.”

The rapidly shrinking part of yourself that isn’t consumed with desire tells you to take a step back. That anyone, God forbid, even the Adlers across the street could witness this. Talk about a free peep show.

You think of the alternative: sneaking back into your house with a hope and a prayer that your dad won’t find you, backpack over your shoulder and shoes on, as you climb the stairs back to your bedroom. Open up your Joel-advised dresser drawer of things your dad says you shouldn’t have and pull out your vibrator. Do the same old hassle of a routine, desperately trying to make yourself come. Reach an unfulfilling peak.

Or… take what Joel’s offering you. Risks and all.

You take a tentative step forward, glaring at Joel when he chuckles because of your hesitance, and plop yourself down on his thigh. The pressure against your clit immediately pulls a whimper from you. His big hands fix themselves on your hips, holding tight, but not too tight as to hold you captive against him. There’s still the faint existence of the Joel you’ve always known, considerate and sweet and all southern gentleman, that exists behind the guise of his dominance. 

You nestle your head into the crook of his neck, breathing heavy against him as you get a slow start to grinding your hips on his thigh. Although your movements are tentative, uncertain in nature, your head is already going fuzzy.

“Bet you’re only this wet cause that boy already put a new load in your dishwasher.” You scoff at him in disbelief — both at how much more wet it gets you, and how foul his words are. He chooses then to jerk you forward by the hips. You cry out as your pussy drags along the thick expanse of his thigh, clit catching on the bunched up fabric of your rumpled shorts.

“Zip it, you fuckin’ hussy. Ain’t a damn soul in this neighborhood that wants to wake up to you sobbin’ while gettin’ off on this thigh.” One of his hands drifts back to squeeze at the flesh of your ass. You hear the spank before you feel it, a sting that echoes and sticks right between your legs. He’s effortlessly strung a barbed wire of humiliation around your body. The lack of power makes your thighs clamp down around his, and you can’t tell if you crave more of it or despise it.

Unable to decide which, you loudly, exaggeratedly moan into his ear, still rocking down on his lap. It resounds through the neighborhood, the springboard roofs ricocheting you coquettish noises down the street and through the flowerbeds. A spooked crow lifts off of the power lines behind you, and you hear it squawk as its wings beat and carry it away.

Joel cocks his head at you, brow raised. “So it’s not just your legs that have a problem stayin’ shut. It’s your nasty mouth, too.” His hands migrate up your sides to your tits, which jostle with every flighty movement across his thigh. Before you know what he’s doing, he tweezes at your nipples in a way that makes you melt into him, forehead falling flat against his neck. And then he lands a hard smack across your chest, pleasure with a bite. Your hips jolt. “Behave for daddy before I make you walk next door draggin’ a snail trail behind ya.”

You know he doesn’t mean your real dad. A new rush of heat settles in your stomach, tightening your cunt from an ache to an insatiable thrumming that only Joel can solve. “Fuck,” you almost shout, but end up muffling into his skin with an open-mouthed kiss. He sighs, adjusting under you. The change in angle on your clit makes you whimper, especially when you feel his hardened length smushed against the outside of your thigh.

Your hand goes down to grip it, to participate in the push and pull, the cat and mouse, but he shakes his head, pulling it out of the way. He holds you by the small of your back, urging you to keep rubbing on him. “You’re lucky I’m even givin’ you my thigh,” he spits. “Ain’t gonna let you play chutes and ladders tryna make me come when I know damn well where that hand was last night.”

“Daddy,” you pout at him, lower lip jutting out.

He only shakes his head. “Don’t start.”

Whining in agitation, you manage to school yourself into behaving like he’d told you to. Every grind of your hips welcomes pleasure, beckons it, activates the porch light inside of you that invites it inside. You go limp against Joel as he guides you back and forth, and even limper when he tightens the muscle underneath your soaking core. Your hands anchor themselves on his broad shoulders, nails carving into his skin through the flimsy material of his shirt. He hisses underneath you, a break in his seemingly titanium resolve. You feel yourself getting closer, heat wreathing around your stomach, cunt clenching.

In your house, the foyer light flickers on.

Your hips stall over Joel’s as you see your dad’s backlit silhouette moving around in the foyer. Likely sliding on his shoes, patting his pockets for his wallet and his work phone…. You have two minutes at best.

Joel’s eyes follow your distracted line of vision. His amused chuckle warms the back of your neck. “Oughta hurry up if you don’t wanna get caught. Your old man would be in for a rude awakening, headin’ to work and finding his precious little girl fuckin’ my leg like a whore,” he murmurs.

He bounces his leg underneath you, and you bite back the needy cry that threatens to slip out. It feels so good, too good for you to think about anything other than the haze of arousal and pleasure that hovers over your head like a perpetual fog. You return to grinding down on him, hips pumping with a greater, renewed speed. “Attagirl,” Joel croons at you, and the hand at the small of your back presses harder, pushing you up and down his thigh.

Short, strained breaths of yours meet the morning air, eyes pinned on the rectangular window. It’s a golden-washed reminder of how wrong this is. Your dad would blow a gasket, see red, breathe fire at you if he knew exactly what was happening just a few feet away from his front yard.

But you forget all about that when Joel’s calloused fingers cup your chin, nudging you to look at him. His eyes are all pupil, darkened with something like starvation, something like want. “Don’t look at him. Look at me,” he coaxes, and he bounces his thigh again.

You’re close, you can feel it. He can feel it, too, in the way that your thighs fasten around his, your cunt rocking on him as your fervor makes the whole front porch shake and shudder. Tossing your hips back and forth, you wanted it, but now? Now you need it. Your stomach tightens, your legs shivering below you as your cunt gushes all over both of your shorts. “That’s it, baby, come on me like you were beggin’ to. ‘S alright, nice and easy for daddy, mhm?” He tenses his thigh one final time, and you lurch over that edge. “Gooood girl,” he hums as your cunt flutters against his leg. “You’re a daredevil, aren’t you?” he asks, jerking his head toward your house.

You figure you must be, after what you just did.

You’d planned on staying there, riding it out and trembling against his warm chest. But the garage cranks open. You jolt off of Joel’s lap, damn near teleporting across the porch with how fast you move. Joel smirks at you, crossing his unfucked leg over his freshly fucked one, where you’d rubbed your cum all over his skin until it’d glistened. The sight warms your stomach all over again, but it doesn’t last – nerves spasm in your ribcage as your dad ducks out into the driveway.

You fumble with your shorts, pulling them down and crossing your hands in front of the obvious stain on the gray fabric. Your dad squints across the yard, cupping a hand over his eyes. “Miller?” He calls your name shortly after, and you straighten. “You’re up early, kiddo.”

You open your mouth, on the precipice of a lie that you know won’t be good. It’ll come out unsteady, dishonest, and uneven. 

Joel points at the package at the foot of his doorstep. “My toolbox got sent to yours,” he explains. “Damn postal. ‘Bout as good as the Boston Post Road these days. But your kid’s got me covered. Raised her right.”

For the second time, Joel Miller covers for you. You have no idea where this leaves you, standing under your dad’s scrutinizing gaze. With your cum cooling and sticking to your folds the same way it’s cooling and sticking to his leg, Joel knows your secret. And he’s keeping it.

Your dad only gives a shallow nod, looking between the two of you. “Well,” he hooks a hand back at his truck. “I gotta head off to work.” He shifts on his feet, this time pointing to you. “And you head back inside, kiddo. Too early for you to be up and movin’.” Of course it is.

You stare at the ground, the pollen and stray leaves below your feet. Finally, you settle on a nod. Shallow and halfhearted, much like his. Your dad, satisfied, retreats back into the garage. You hear the truck engine come to life.

“You heard the man,” Joel says. You tighten your fists, moving to step away, but the way Joel’s eyes glimmer has you loitering. He lowers his voice. “See you soon, daredevil.”

That damned nickname. “How do you know I’ll be back?” you retort under your breath.

He shrugs. “I’m sure there’ll be more… ‘packages’.”

You blame the heat in your body on the rising sun, sweat clinging to the back of your neck as you plod off through the front yard. There’s only one thought in your head as your dad pulls out and you close the garage. Mr. Miller can’t happen again.

Mistake number four: thinking you’re telling the truth.

[retroellie]

Polluted

Summary: After a long day of work, Spencer comes home and fucks his stresses away.

A/N: This was written in literally 45 minutes but I had this idea and I couldn't make it into a full fic, my mind could only think of the smut part lmao. Enjoy!!! :)

Warnings: NSFW, slapping, degradation, squirting, unprotected sex, mean!spencer

Word count: 1.9K

Prison changed Spencer Reid, plain and simple. This is not the man you came to love. He was cruel, possessive, completely and utterly damaged. You hoped that prison wouldn't taint Spencer too much, you hoped that he would continue to be sweet little Dr. Spencer Reid. But you knew what prison could do to a person, for you locked people up daily. You knew that the system would take Spencer's old soul and soft heart into its muddy hands, squeezing them until they became one. Although sometimes in the right lighting, in the right moment, you can see a hint of Spencer in his light brown eyes.

You can't say that you hated the change in Spencer, obviously there was much work to be done before Spencer could truly be himself again. However, you could live with this change. He was hungry, feeling as though your body was the only thing that could fill that hunger. It was extremely attractive to you, his sudden hunger for you. Spencer was always using you, using your body or your mouth or your hands... just you. There was always an excuse for him to be inside of you in his mind. A man thought of looking at you? He bent you over the kitchen table. You wore a shirt that showed a bit of your chest? He dragged you into the bathroom and forced you onto your knees. You smiled at him? He would shove his face between your thighs until you couldn't even see straight.

Even on the way back home after he had gotten out of prison, he bent you over the backseat on the side of the road and fucked you roughly. It felt like you were stepping on eggshells every time around him because you never know what can set him off... it was oddly scandalous, almost arousing as the thought of how he'd fuck you next was always on your mind. A big plus was that spencer dug himself into your brain, pulling out your deepest and darkest kinks, and using them to give you earth-shattering, mind-blowing, life-changing orgasms. Now you don't think you two could ever go back to just plain sex. He had ruined you, ruined your body so much that only the thought of being hurt could get you off now.

"Fucking bitch..." Spencer spat out, his hand spreading your legs further open as his cock drilled into your soaked cunt. "That bitch looked at me like I was fucking stupid..."

His words came out breathy and jagged as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. Spencer came home today upset, his tie being ripped off and thrown down as soon as he got into the door. You knew something was up by this action, but also the look on his face. He seemed to have a frown sewn onto his face, something that he wore most days. You asked what was wrong but you were met with him ripping off your clothes, hinting that he didn't want to talk but to fuck his frustrations into you. Now here you were, panties ripped off, legs wide open, Spencer deep inside you with his hand placed on your neck.

You couldn't tell how many times you came just in this position alone, you couldn't keep count. His hand gripped your through, affecting the way your brain functioned. You felt with every thrust of Spencer's hips you would lose brain cells... creating the dumb cock whore that Spencer ached to achieve. Spencer's hand applied more pressure to your throat as he thought of what happened at work, how while section chief Erin Strauss critiqued his work, people were being murdered.

"As if my 187 IQ wasn't enough for her." He started, his hand on your thigh being slammed down past your face and into the wooden table he was drilling you into. " I mean, I've been at this place for over 10 years... I know what I'm fucking doing"

You came again, not able to keep yourself from unraveling now. His hand on your throat was constricting your moans, completely silencing them as the only thing that could come out of your mouth was soft gurgles. You loved this feeling, knowing that at any moment if you didn't like it you could alert Spencer and he'd stop immediately. I guess you could say that Spencer's care for you never disappeared after prison, he would go on to say that it strengthened his love for you. He had this picture of you that you had sent him in one of your many letters, he kept it with him everywhere he went for it was the only thing that kept him sane.

One time a fellow inmate saw it, snatched it from him, and digested every single inch of you. He went on to explain the disgusting things he would do to you if he got the chance, that is exactly why Spencer came home to fuck you nice and good every night. Because if he wasn't the one to do it, he knew that other people would take you for granted, they would spend only minutes with you... ignoring what you needed and taking what they wanted. You would feel incomplete, unsatisfied, and completely in denial that love existed. You would assume love was only made for books and movies, that no one could show you the love you deserved. This is the love you deserve. You deserve a love that could have you coming undone over and over again, a harsh and mean kind of love but that always ended with soft kisses and a nice hot bath. A love that was sour at first but ended sweet, making sure that the words "i love you" were carved onto your skin.

"You wouldn't do that would you?" He whispered into your ear, his grip on your throat as he waited for your response. " You don't think I'm stupid ...hmm?"

His cock was too deep inside you, it was deep enough to have you going cross-eyed and unable to speak. Your moans became audible now, no longer being stuck in your throat due to his pressure being released. His pace was still inhumanly fast, not stopping even for a second. The table had started to shit forward, being scrapped across the floor and probably worrying the downstairs neighbors. You were on the verge of cumming again, your mind not even able to comprehend his question until you felt a harsh sting on your cheek. Spencer had slapped you across the face, growing impatient while waiting for your answer.

"Answer me...." He hissed out, leaning down and taking his lips to yours. He bit down on your lip, creating a pain that shot through your body. "Or I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again until you can't think of anything else besides my cock deep inside your tight little pussy..."

You could taste blood now, your lip bleeding and seeping into your mouth. His words created this deep, rough knot in your stomach. It wasn't like the rest of the orgasms you had tonight, no it was more intense. It hurt, painful with every thrust of his cock. It created a deep pain and pleasure dynamic in your body but felt like something was trying to claw itself out of your body.

"Fuck..." You screamed out, grabbing onto him and digging your fingernails into his back. "No I wouldn't! Fuck... I wouldn't! I won't!"

You finally replied, hoping with those words he would deepen his thrust if that was even possible. Spencer just grinned down at you, placing his head in between your shoulder blade and your neck. He set soft kisses to the skin, his warm lips against your burning skin. Spencer was close, your words pushing him further to the edge. The feeling inside your stomach didn't stop or dull, it only got worse. You were screaming now, Spencer's hand lingering on your neck but sitting gently on your skin. Spencer picked up his speed, the table scraping against the floor even harder.

You couldn't handle it, everything around you becoming so far away yet being so close. The feeling got to a point of feeling terrifyingly painful but also so potent of pleasure and so bewitching that you didn't want it to end now. A couple more of Spencer's deep and harsh thrusts sent you over the edge, the painful knot in your stomach snapping and shooting liquid out of your body. It was the first time you had ever squirted, the feeling so glorious that you wished it would happen every time. Your vision went out, only seeing light and hearing Spencer's soft moans as he finished inside of you. The world felt like it ended, nothing to be seen or to be experienced... just emptiness but complete fullness all at the same time.

"Good girl..." You heard Spencer's words echo through your now-empty mind. You couldn't tell if your eyes were closed or not. "You did so good for me honey... I'm so proud of you."

Those single words were all you needed to hear as you floated back to earth and into your body, you blinked a couple times... forgetting where and who you were for a split second. You came back to see Spencer brushing your hair back from your sweaty face, his face inches from yours as his face filled with concern that maybe he had broken you finally.

"There she is..." He chuckled softly, kissing your lips softly. " There's my girl..."

You gave him a weak smile, raise your hand to rest on his cheek. You rubbed it softly, feeling the growing stubble on his face. He was just as sweaty as you, his body hot to the touch. You two probably looked insane, one of you barely able to walk looking beat the hell up and the other one scratched up and drenched with liquids. Spencer gently slid himself out of you, watching you wince softly as it felt like he was connected to you at this point.

"Sorry..." He whispered, taking your hand in his as he rubbed your thigh gently "I was too rough huh?"

Rough was not even close to what Spencer was. He was brutal, sadistic, barbaric but you couldn't deny that you would choose it over compassion any day. You began to think that maybe prison was the best thing that could've happened to Spencer Reid, not only was he a genius but he now had a powerful glow to him. Shy kisses and longing gazes were a thing of the past for you two, Spencer knew what he wanted and he was going to get it.

"You were just rough enough..." I chuckled, feeling nothing but content and at peace in this moment.

Spencer laughed with you, pecking your lips one last time before pulling away from you. He looked around, his eyes landing on the couch. He smiled, walking over and leaving you but only for a second. He came back with a blanket, wrapping it around you then picking you up bridal style. You thanked him silently because you knew there was no way you were getting off the table without some kind of help.

"To the bath you go..." He joked, holding you close to him as he walked you to your shared bathroom. 

You looked into his eyes and at the right lighting, the right moment, you looked into his light brown eyes... realizing that this is Spencer Reid. This is Spencer Reid damaged, polluted, and bruised... but it was still the man you fell in love with all those years ago.