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#and i always make friends with people that already have friends
simpjaes · 2 days
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BOOK SMART? P*SSY SMART. — P.JS
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The one where Jay basically lives in the university library and you live in any and every party you can find on campus. Unfortunately, your grades are suffering over it and you need help. You’re quite lucky though because Jay is quite helpful. 
minors do not interact. 
WORDCOUNT― 10k
PAIRING― inexperienced loser jay x afab reader
CONTENT―  Jay wears glasses even tho the banner says otherwise lol, he’s also a loser ass dweeb in this, open minded and playful reader, college au, jay just rly wants to get in that but doesn't know how to
NOTE― this is a revamp, surprise surprise, nobody is shocked. was originally written for mark lee over on my other blog @/ncteez but i need jay like i need air so….cackling at the title tho, my brain is malfunctioning pls forgive me
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags :: MONSTER COCK AGENDA. Jay is a pervert and smells ur towel lmao, mentions of food and detailed popsicle eating,  reader is very vocal and talkative, slight use of the pet name “pretty”, a lot of cum, cream pie, unprotected sex, mention of bc pills, Jay has a huge cock and he didn’t even know it, inexperienced Jay, experienced reader, finger sucking, nipple sucking, grinding, oral (f recieving), Jay gets on his knees, making out, sex on a table
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
         It wasn’t shocking that you were failing but it was shocking that not a single one of your friends were failing with you. They somehow managed to keep their grades up while partying just as often as you do. You don’t know how the hell they did it and you also don’t know why the hell they refuse to help you study now that they’ve seen your failure.
         Not the greatest friends, you think. They won’t help you study because they only have time to study their own classes and to continue partying without you, apparently. You knew you had to come to terms eventually that these people aren’t your friends. They’re just people to party with, people to have fun with, and apparently, people that will watch you struggle.
         It’s frustrating to walk home from classes by the run-down houses with booming music already playing. Without fail, every time, you wish you could be attending instead of studying. It’s even more annoying when you give up on your studies because you’re just not fucking getting it, and you probably would be fucking getting it if you were at a party talking to potential boyfriends or fuckbuddies. 
         Fairness in the world is so hard to grasp. Someone else always has it, but never you. The worst part about all of this is that you’re very aware of how lucky you actually are, you wasted away in college and allowed yourself to get this low simply because you were lucky enough to be well-liked. You prioritized the pointless things over the important things, and now you’re suffering for it. Complaining that you can’t attend parties, looking like a bore to your friends who pity and are embarrassed by you for not being able to multitask like everyone else.
         That’s right. You can’t party and study like everyone else, so maybe now it’s time to focus on the task you’d pushed aside for so long.
         Studying. Ugh.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
         You don’t know Jay past the fact that he is in at least three of your classes, extremely quiet, and constantly in the library when you pass by to leave the campus. You’re a little bit ashamed to admit that the majority of people you are well-liked by are the people who are ignoring you right now. The only choice you have is to find someone that can help you catch up on all of the studies you’ve blatantly abandoned. You could go through the student center and “officially” attend tutoring sessions with someone who would likely scoff at you for not getting it, or you could find someone of your own choice to help you. 
         That’s the only reason Jay comes to mind. Again, he is in three of the four of your classes. Every semester, without fail, you’ll look for your name on the dean’s list knowing that it’ll never show up, but you have seen Jay’s name on that list more times than you care to remember. 
         Jay knows of you as well. The girl who cut in front of him in the cafeteria to grab coffee with her large group of friends, making him ten minutes late to be early for his class. The girl who loudly slammed a book down in the library and nearly gave him a heart attack, the girl who came into class stumbling and giggling with one of the guys, clearly still tipsy from the night before. 
         You are everything that Jay isn’t. You are everything he avoids when accepting friends into his life, and his interest in you doesn’t really go past the point of having a stubborn, pretty girl to look at. He is a man after all. A man who is finally away from home, surrounded by hormonal women and men who can’t see past their brain fog of sexual fantasies in class. Never towards him though, he’s usually just on the outside looking in. 
         Jay has those fantasies too, but it isn’t his focus. He is dead set on being a top student, one that people recognize on the academic end rather than the partying end of it all. So, here he is, sitting with his nose in a book, glasses sliding down every few minutes as he munches on a pack of crackers. He’s been here for three hours already and finds comfort in the silence of the library. It’s such a vast place with so many corners to hide in if someone were to come and disturb his peace. Today is no different from any other Friday, where few students choose to study and instead opt for one of the various frat parties or bar hops. 
         You wish you could be one of those people, truly, but instead, you’re making your way to the library in search of Jay. The one student who you assume may actually take you up on the offer of study sessions. You imagine his shocked face when you sit in front of him, and you try your best not to imagine a look of disgust rather than approval. You need Jay now, for the first time in your life, more than ever. His knowledge of the three out of four classes you have will surely work wonders on your GPA, you will probably have to admit how much you’d be relying on him in order for him to even consider your offer too.  
God, you hate begging.
The library is so deafeningly silent when you walk in. You can’t hear even the slightest of a whisper as you walk around and peek into the many empty study rooms and cubicles. After several minutes of searching, the anxiety bubbles up inside of you. What if he decided to do something else? Of all days? The one day where he is needed to be studying? 
Just as you turn to leave, ignoring the entire second floor of the library, you nearly walk straight into him. And by nearly, you actually do  walk directly into him. 
Books clatter to the floor, Jay sighs as he looks down without making eye contact with you. It’s not the first time he’s been walked into and it probably won’t be the last. He is forever wishing that people could just watch where they’re fucking going.
“Hey, I’m sorry–” You go to say as you lean down to help him pick up the mess, he still doesn’t look at you though. Honestly, he barely even notices you there with those airpods in his ears and eyes on the floor. 
To be fair, most people who walk into him just continue walking, so…
         When he does take note of another person helping him retrieve his things, he looks up. You’re not shocked that all he does is nod at you when he takes the book from your hands and makes his way back towards his study space. 
         In an awkward way, you follow him. You feel dumb and kind of lost in this world of books and good students. Up the stairs, towards the floor you’d not even bothered to check, Jay unintentionally leads you to his little corner that already has papers and books laid out. 
         You swallow hard when he takes his seat and looks up to see that you have followed him. Jay is quick to swipe one of his AirPods from his ears and you can kind of tell that he instantly went from relaxed to nervous.
“Uh–” You look around, feeling awkward standing there. “I was looking for you.” 
“Me?” Jay questions with a soured look on his face. He doesn’t really do it intentionally, it’s just, like, what? 
 “Why?”
“Okay, just hear me out.” You start, taking a few steps forward and inviting yourself to sit at his table. There is absolutely no arm space on this side, but that doesn’t entirely matter. You begin your pitch.
“I know it’s kind of weird, but, I’m failing.”
“That’s not weird.” Jay mocks, shaking his head and moving to put his airpod back in his ear.
“Wait! Just, please–hear me out.” You plead now, a little frustrated that he’s already refusing to help you.
         He looks around and then lets out a deep sigh. Rubbing his temples, he nods.
“I know we aren’t the type to like, help each other or whatever– but I’ve asked all of my friends, and they kind of blacklisted me…you are my last resort, I swear.” You say, begging with your eyes. “Can you please just help me study for like, one day a week?”
         His body is stiff and his face is unimpressed by your pitch. 
“An hour a week?” You adjust clapping your hands together to plead even harder. You very nearly start to grovel on the ground before him. “Jay, please. I need to get my grades up.” 
“If you had just given yourself a day a week, you wouldn’t have to be asking someone you’ve never even spoken with to help you study.” He rolls his eyes, still mocking and appearing a bit cocky at the sudden power he’s been given. Of course he only gets approached when someone needs something from him. 
 “How many classes are you failing?”
“I’m failing three classes and have a C in another–” You shamefully admit. “Just an hour a day, please.”
         Jay eyes you over, shifting a bit in his seat before letting out another sigh. 
“Finals are barely a month away.”
“I know! I’ve already got extra credit lined up so I can at least get my grades up by a letter but– I,” You look down, more ashamed than before.
“You don’t know how to actually do the extra credit, do you?” Jay finishes for you and is, for some reason, shocked when you nod. 
         He can see the panic in your eyes, and he noticed for the past week that you’d been looking incredibly tired around campus. Not the hung-over type of tired either. He’s noticed you move your seat closer to the front in one of the classes and even noted that you’re actually taking notes during your time spent there. Maybe he should help you out. If not for the fact that you genuinely seem to need it, but also maybe because he’s like, incredibly aware that he is attracted to you.
 He always has been, but that’s not the fucking point. 
“Okay, you can come study with me whenever you want then. I usually study here because I have a roommate who isn’t exactly the quietest person–” He goes to explain. 
“I have an entire apartment to myself, you can come study at my place. Really, I’ll make food and everything.” You panic, still trying to sell the idea despite him already accepting your offer. 
         Jay is a little shocked and offended that you have your own apartment, and yet you’re failing your classes. No way in hell are you paying for that yourself. This only prompts him to want to help more. Because, like? An entire apartment to study in? Where a pretty girl makes his food? 
“Okay, that can work. What days and times can I be over?” He follows up with a nonchalant nod, noting the three shared classes and the one other you’ll probably need help with. He hopes he’s already taken the outlier class, otherwise he won’t be much help in that regard. 
“You can walk home with me after those classes if you want, and we can study until you’re ready to leave?” You offer. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be every day, but–”
“We can meet up after every class and decide if you want to study or not.” Jay finishes for you yet again, and you nod with a smile. 
“What’s your favorite food?” You ask, wanting to make a mental note of keeping your end of the bargain. 
         Jay thinks hard at that because being put on the spot like this makes answering any question a bit difficult. 
“Here–” You hold out your phone. “Put your number in and you can think about it. I’ll text you so you have mine.”
 You can’t wipe the smile off of your face, the anxiety is practically dissolving from your body at the very idea of someone being willing to help you in the comfort of your own apartment.
         He, on the other hand, is a bit more anxious now. He realizes that now, he’s going to be studying with you. A girl who had never even looked at him twice during the semesters you’ve shared classes. He’s putting his number into your phone, and you’re going to be texting him, and spending time with him instead of going to the parties that he’s never invited to. 
“I’ll see you on Monday?” You ask in his silence, sending a quick text to him so that he can save your number. He nods and looks down at his books. “Don’t forget to text me what you want to eat, okay?”
         He nods again as you stand to walk away. He watches intently at the way you have a little bounce in your step and can’t help but feel his cheeks flushing. God, why is he doing this to himself? 
         Slamming his head on the desk, he, much like you, cannot stop smiling now. All thoughts of studying for the remainder of the night left his head and were replaced with his new study schedule. He thinks he will try and take it easy this weekend, specifically so he is mentally prepared. He’s only talked to you for a total of fourteen minutes and he’s already lost his ability to study and think clearly. 
If he’s lucky, the two of you will pass this semester with flying colors. There’s still that tiny part of him though, that wonders if maybe you’d find interest in him, and maybe he will fail the semester with you because, honestly, you are so distracting.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
         On Monday, you sat up straight in class while eyeing the back of Jay’s head most of the time. Mostly to prepare yourself for if and when he makes a break for it. He hasn’t even texted you what he wants to eat today, and part of you wonders if he went back on his promise to you. Not that it was much of a promise in the first place, anyway.
         He was a little shocked that you weren’t the first out of the room once everyone wrapped up though. Like you, he was assuming the same thing. You’d make a fucking break for it and pretend you never approached him in the first place. After all, It was common for you to leave mid-way through class or be the first one out the door. Instead though, he finds himself proud of you. You stood there awkwardly looking at him as the room emptied out, clearly unsure of what to do or say to him.
         Jay nods your way as if to beckon you towards him. 
“You’re still wanting to study today?” He asks with a brow raised in surprise. 
All weekend he had thought about it. Thought about the possibility of it just being a joke to you, or maybe that you’d change your mind and allow yourself to flunk out like you already had been doing. His heart kind of jumps a bit noticing you looking at him like this. 
“Yeah? Wasn’t that the plan?” You ask, nudging him a bit once you get up beside him. “You didn’t text me what you wanted to eat so you’re just gonna have to eat whatever I have in the fridge, by the way.”
         Jay nods, opting to stay silent at this moment. He’s going home with you. He’s going to be seen on campus walking home with you. He’s not the sort to want attention, but this situation feels dangerously attractive to him. Especially when he takes note of how you’re probably going to look all…cozy and at home in your apartment. Like, he gets to be in your space teaching you things that you should have already known. 
         It all shouldn’t be so exciting. After all, his days are filled with the typical boring sessions of reading, writing, noting, and memorizing. It is exciting for him though. Never has he studied with someone like you, or really even gotten to talk to someone that most of the men speak to, the unreachable men no less. The ones with families that own the city, and all the houses in it.
You’re one of the unreachable women on campus, he thinks. The ones with standards based on fun, attractiveness, and chaos rather than charisma, personality, and knowledge. It’s kind of a once-in-a-lifetime thing for Jay to be doing this right now.
“Okay, so...” Jay drones out, avoiding eye contact with you as he packs things into his ratty backpack. “I’m not super hungry right now but–we are going to your place right?”
He needs the confirmation himself if he’s being honest. Nothing would suck more than assuming and being proved wrong.
         You nod with a smile, grabbing his hand as soon as he throws his backpack on. It isn’t intimate to you, but for him, it’s…something. Holding his hand is reserved for intimate relationships with family or girlfriends. He never holds hands.
 He’s never really gotten the chance to anyway, aside from a little cousin when they were crossing the street last summer. He can’t help but buckle in on himself in a shy sort of way as you lead him from the room and out of the building. 
         You’re rambling about all of the things you need to study. All of the snacks you could offer to him. All of the hours you wish you hadn’t wasted partying, yet, all he’s thinking about is how warm your hand feels in his. You seem to be a natural at talking to people. Touching them without a single worry in the world, it’s kind of nice, he thinks. The fact that you aren’t ashamed to be seen together with him, heading towards the place you sleep. Sometimes Jay forgets that this is college. No one actually cares who is hanging out with who unless they are in the middle of a raunchy frat party, seeing their love interest getting touched against a dirty bathroom counter. 
         He smiles to himself as he finally catches up to you and allows you to stop dragging him around. He keeps pace with you now, resting his hand as if to allow you to let go, but you don't. 
“Just around that corner–” You say,  glancing over at him and noting the shade of color his face has become. “You good?” 
         Jay nods, staying quiet and trying to force himself out of his thoughts. He glances down at your hand holding his and then back up at you on instinct. 
“Ah, sorry.” You mumble, releasing his hand and trying hard to understand that maybe you truly are too clingy with most people in your life. You think his reaction was kind of cute though, and now you’re a little determined to help him relax those stiffened shoulders. Jay can’t be as boring as he seems, right?
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“I have peanut butter and jelly, eggs, noodles, some leftover pizza and–”
“I’m not hungry, but If I can have some water or something, that would be cool.” Jay cuts you off, slipping off his shoes in an immaculate show of how clumsy he is. You can hear the clatter of your entire coat rack falling to the floor due to his weight leaning on it through that single task. 
“Okay–” You side eye his mess with a slight smile. “Water, got it.”
 You trail off to get him the drink, keeping a small mental note of how nervous he appears to be right now. He’s panicked, frantically trying to balance your coat rack back in place as if you hadn’t walked directly into him just the Friday before. 
“Jay, it’s just a coat rack.” You laugh with water in hand, hearing him mutter a sorry as he hangs one of your empty purses back onto it.
“Thanks.” He says now, reaching out for the drink.
         Watching his eyes go from the glass of water to your apartment, you smile at the look on his face. Such a smart guy acting so incredibly stupid the moment he’s alone in an apartment with a girl. Cute.
“Is this good?” You ask as if you’re offering a change of subject so that he doesn’t have to think about the coat rack he had just knocked over. You point over to your dining table that’s placed perfectly in a little nook against a window and look at him as he stands in place. “We can start whenever you’re ready?”
“Can you show me to the bathroom first?” Jay blurts, hyper-aware of his awkward demeanor. He needs to calm himself down before even thinking about sitting down to fucking study. 
   You point to the bathroom quickly, making your way to the table and adjusting everything so there is space for the piles of books soon to be laid on it. You watch only a little bit at how Jay makes his way over to said bathroom in a show of not-so-confident body language. He seemed kind of cocky on Friday, but today he seems to be like jelly. 
         You sit at the dining table without thinking much more of the man in your bathroom, instead, you pull out some textbooks and lay them out.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
         Jay stares at himself in the mirror, he can practically see the blood rushing to his cheeks and ears as he comes to terms with the fact that he probably shouldn’t have agreed to come to your apartment to study. You’re attractive. That alone is a reason in his head to avoid it, but he’s here and he’s already made a fool of himself. 
         He slaps his face a bit with some cold water and tries to will himself to stop acting like such an awkward idiot. Surely you’ll pick up on his inability to talk to women if he doesn’t get it together, right? You’re going to think he’s some weirdo, a pervert maybe, before throwing him out and avoiding him forever.
         Staring harder at himself, he waits for the color to run from his face so that way he can get out there and start the study session, but then his eyes start to wander. 
         Your bathroom is immaculately clean save for some makeup stains on the counter and a few stray hairs that must have been yanked out of your head while you attempted to brush out a night of drinking. It smells fresh and your perfectly hung towels look plush hanging against the wall. Without a thought in his head, he leans towards the towel so that he can dry his face and hands, and that’s just what he does. Except, maybe he buries his face into the towel a bit longer than he needed to, and maybe the smell of it was so astronomically sweet that he nuzzled against it even more.
         He could tell the towel had been used at least once though, solely because he could smell a scent that wasn’t the soap on the counter, nor any laundry detergent he’s aware of. Then…his eyes flick to the actual hand towel that he somehow missed, right beside it? A lace bra. The flush comes back to his face, making him feel even warmer than he did when he entered the room. Which feels like a fucking nightmare if he’s being totally honest. 
         It dawns on him again. He’s in your apartment, smelling your towels, and staring at your bra. Coming to the bathroom in an attempt to calm down has done nothing more than make things worse, and the only option he has now is to stumble out of the bathroom hoping you assume he was in here doing number two rather than planting his face into a towel where you dry off your naked body. 
         Mumbling to himself, Jay prepares himself to face you. Sure, you probably see nothing out of the norm if he does well and hides the fact that he’s hyper-sensitive just for being in your space, then again, Jay has never been the best at playing pretend.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You offer him a bright smile once he finally makes his way back into your living space and seats himself at the table. He seems to be avoiding eye contact with you, bashfully pulling his own books out of his bag with shaking fingers. 
“Are you okay? You sure you don’t want a snack or something?” You look at him, head tilting at him in concern. 
Jay finally looks at you and notes how comfortable you seem while he feels like he’s internally falling apart. There shouldn’t be any fucking issue in his head when it comes to this situation, but here he is, panicking because a pretty girl is in front of him. 
He feels so dumb, so obvious, so embarrassed. Yeah, maybe he should eat something, at least so he can buy some time to focus on something else before he starts stuttering through your studies. At this rate, all you’re going to learn about today is how awful Jay is around women. 
“Maybe I should eat, yeah–” He says in a small voice, still staring at the books as he places them on the table.
“Come look in my kitchen, we can eat something together?” You offer, reaching toward his hand. 
He pulls back from your touch and tries to play it off casually like he was just reaching for a pencil, but you didn’t miss the fact that his hands were cold and shaky.
Taking note, it starts to dawn on you. You’ve dealt with men like him before, and it was always an interesting situation. To check your theory, you rise from the chair and lean over the table, being sure to squish whatever cleavage you have visible to make it more visible to him. 
“Salty or sweet?” You ask, watching his eyes intently and the way they struggle to reach your face. Score one for you, Jay is definitely a man above all. Luckily for him, you have lots of experience in that field, while he appears to have very little in the field of women. 
“W-what?” He drones out, pulling his eyes away from you in an attempt to hide the way his face immediately flushed. 
“The snacks? Savory or sweet?” You laugh, propping yourself back from the table and hopping into the kitchen, checking behind you to see if he follows.
He does stand to follow, but by the time you round the corner, he isn’t behind you like you figured he would be. Peeping your head around the corner, you watch as he holds his hands in front of his groin, looks down at himself, and then lets out a deep sigh. You then watch as he adjusts himself in his pants, uncomfortably hiding a semi-hard on so that he could come into the kitchen without suspicion. 
By this point, you’ve already decided that studying will very likely not be part of today’s schedule. He wouldn’t be able to focus on a damn thing like this, right? You should help him, right?
“Took you long enough.” You joke as he appears in the kitchen, turning to look at him and intentionally trailing your eyes down his body just to see if you can see any sort of bulge. He’s safe though because he apparently must have skills in hiding his arousal during the worst times. 
Jay, on the other hand, can already tell that your shift in mood is intensely different compared to before he went to the bathroom. Twice now you’ve been blatant towards him and it is not helping him at all right now. Is he reading it wrong because he’s very obviously horny right now? Were you really trying to dangle your breasts in front of him like that? Are you really checking him out right now? 
“Sorry–” He looks down. “I– uh, I dropped something.” He offers as an excuse, uncomfortably trying to shift from your view and avoid eye contact. 
“Sure.” You say with a roll of your eyes, knowing full well that he was hiding his cock. “I want something sweet. Sounds good?” You change the subject, reaching out and running your fingers down his arm. 
He swallows hard, stiffening his shoulders and nodding to you. Without hesitation, you let your fingers stay against him for a few seconds longer, keeping eye contact with him before turning and opening a cupboard. 
“Peanut butter crackers, cereal, and oatmeal.” You deadpan, slamming the cupboard and stepping to the fridge. “Pudding.” Then you open the freezer. “Popsicles, and ice cream.”
Jay just stands there when you close the doors to the fridge and look at him in question. He could opt for the crackers but his throat is already dry enough. Choking right now would be even more humiliating. Cereal could work but that would be embarrassing too, for some reason. Oatmeal is an option, solely for how disgusting it looks, surely it would tame his boner. 
But, popsicles? Hell no.
“Grab whatever you want, I'm eating a popsicle.” You say, raising a brow and throwing open the freezer door again to take your pick.
Of course, it’s  intentional. It’s fun to see his eyes light up at the very idea of seeing you eat a popsicle, and even more fun to imagine how flustered he’s going to be in mere minutes.
Jay looks to the floor and heads towards your fridge, also opting for a popsicle despite his very recent internal protest. Mostly so you don’t think he’s a pervert when he inevitably sees you eat it. But also, like, just in case you really are trying to flirt with him right now, at least his lips will taste sweet too. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You had expected Jay to get flustered, and boy did he. What you didn’t expect though, was to become flustered yourself by the image of Jay’s tongue darting over sweet ice, and then over his own lips to suck up the melted and sticky juice. The only image in your head right now is the idea of if he would lick his lips like that if you were to spread your legs for him. Would he lick up your mess on his face, chasing the flavor the same way he’s doing right now?
A dull ache begins to spread throughout your body as you watch him. His eyes still avoid you but you manage to catch him a few times. Each time he makes eye contact with you, your gaze shoots to his lap just to see if he’s gotten hard enough for his cock to leave its tucked position in his waistband. 
Jay is hyper-aware now too, with the way you’re staring and almost leaving your popsicle unattended as he eats his own. He feels confused, like? Are you doing what he was actively avoiding doing to you? Jesus, you really are kind of a whore, god.
By the time the popsicles are finished, your fingers are sticky from allowing it to drip down the stick. You make a point to suck each of your fingers innocently, looking under your lashes at him for split seconds as you begin to shuffle through the papers on the table. 
“So–” You say, popping one finger out of your mouth and inserting another. “Can we start here? I need to have a paper written on at least one topic on this list and have no idea how to find a good source to read from.”
Jay hears and sees you in tunnel vision right now, but he manages to catch the ass end of your sentence and begins to try and focus on the studies at hand. Still watching you suck your fingers into your mouth, he clears his throat and places his own popsicle stick onto the table, pretending he doesn’t wish your tongue would lick him like that.
“I wrote mine based on this topic, and I found a lot of good sources for it. I don’t think our professor would think too hard about us choosing the same subject–” 
“Yeah, especially because it’s me. They’d never guess you’re in my apartment right now.” You laugh, smirking over at him. 
“I would’ve never guessed either–” Jay says without thinking, barely processing how embarrassing he is before you squint at him with a wider smile. 
“Oh yeah?” You ask, raising a brow and leaning forward. “Why’s that?” 
Jay tries to look around but now can’t seem to force his eyes away from you. A much different circumstance compared to before when he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. There’s a connection here, he can feel it. You’re definitely coming onto him and you have been for the past however long he’s been here.
“You’re kind of out of my league, don’t you think?” He laughs more at himself than he does the situation, and to you, he honestly looks pitiful after saying that. It’s incredibly attractive to you in the way he seems to praise you for being a failure simply because he’s attracted to you. At least, that’s the case if you’re reading him right.
“Who said someone like you couldn’t teach me a thing or two?” You have a smile in your voice, and it comforts him, but that comfort is shot down when you stand on your feet and walk over to him. “Who says I’m out of your league?” You ask again, watching him scoot back with his chair as you come closer.
You prop yourself against the table, essentially blocking him from his books and papers. You look down at him now, dipping your head in a playful way. “I don’t think I’m out of your league.” 
Jay notes how you’re between him and the table now. You look comfortable leaning in front of him like this, and when his eyes trail up to your face all his body can do is give in. He looks at you through large eyes, the overhead light is sparkling through them at you. 
In that instant, you can see his embarrassment fill his body because he’s no longer resisting the urge to be himself. He’s staring at you as if you could be a god and saying nothing in response to your words. 
“If anything, Jongie–” You soothe him, grabbing one of his hands and smiling at the way his pen immediately falls out of his grip. “You’re out of my league.” 
He blinks up at you, soaking in the words and not yet understanding in full what you’re doing until he feels warmth enveloping the entirety of his hand and wrist. 
“Do you know how lucky I am that you’re here right now?” You ask him, basking in the way you can see his breath get caught in his throat. “How lucky I am that you’re not only smart but hot too?”
He dips his head at this, a bashful show of your words having an impact on him. He hides his face briefly against his arm and then he realizes–
“Is this okay?” You ask, holding his hand in place as you begin to move your hips against his palm.
Jay watches the way you’ve managed to pull his hand out and plant it between your legs, all so you could grind against it without so much as a warning. He’s not against it though, if anything, his head is shot back to reality and he’s immediately back to glancing around the room and avoiding the scene in front of him.
His palm is against your literal, dampening panties, and all he can think to say right now is, “You could write your thesis on human connection and its effects on the brain.” 
You smile at his attempt to continue to study through this moment.
“I could,” You say with a deeper voice than before, feeling the way his hand stays relaxed in your grasp as you grind against it. “Or we could think about how your brain is being affected right now?”
Jay groans, feeling the warmth of your wet beginning to seep through the fabric, and honestly, it is happening so fast that he’s sure it would be more embarrassing if he walked out now. 
“How are you feeling?” You reword your question towards him, intentionally swiveling your hips so that you can position his fingers into your underwear. 
“You’re warm.” Jay chokes out, eyes now zoning in on your legs slightly spread in front of him. 
You let out a small laugh at this, pulling a bit on his arm to pull him closer, but he doesn’t compute it at all. 
“Do you like it?” You ask again, this time slipping his fingers into you. You let out a deep sigh and roll your eyes back, fucking yourself gently against his fingers before you look at him.
He’s nodding, probably more thankful now that you’d worn a skirt today rather than pants. He didn’t allow himself to take note of your attire, because if he did, he would have made even more of a fool of himself. But he’s nodding now, watching the way you hold his arm in place and slide his fingers in and out of you. 
His silence is louder than his words could be right now, you think. You can feel him straighten his fingers inside of you, you can practically see him salivate at the very idea of how you’re using him right now. You’re not done though, no, no. He’s far too sweet like this, but you want to hear words.
Gently, you pull your hips back effectively slipping his fingers out of you. There, you lift his arm and examine your wetness against his fingers. You smile again, eyes now adjusting to his face rather than his wet fingers. 
Jay watches as you guide his fingers to his lip, and without a second thought, he opens his mouth to taste you against them. He licks circles around each of the two fingers, closing his eyes almost instantly so that he can relish the experience.
He no longer cares how awkward he must seem sitting here like this, letting you do all the work.
“Do you like the taste too?” You ask, releasing his hand and watching how he continues to suck his fingers. 
“Mhm–” Jay groans with his closed mouth around the digits, making damn sure to suck every bit off.
“You’re pretty, you know that?” You compliment him this time, tearing your eyes from him and slipping your panties down your legs. You turn yourself over so that you’re now bent over the table and you ignore the corner of one of the textbooks poking against your ribs, all in favor of what sound Jay will make when he opens his eyes. 
“You can taste more, if you want.” You offer, lifting to look behind you at the way his fingers drop from his mouth and his eyes immediately zone in on your bare pussy displayed for him under your hiked-up skirt. 
He does let out a whimper, one that seemed entirely desperate to do just that for you but–he doesn’t move. He just stares, soaking in the words you’re saying, memorizing each fold and dip in your glistening pussy.
You don’t intend to wait though. Reaching behind you, you grab the back of his head by his hair and guide his face to you. The way you can hear his chair tip over as he falls to his knees makes you quiver a bit before him, and you’re almost surprised to not just feel a face against you. It appears that Jay does know what he’s doing. 
He instantly jumps into action, loving the feeling of your hand in his hair basically telling him to do it. Giving him that green light, letting him.
You can feel his tongue exploring and his other hand reaching to lift your skirt entirely over your ass. His tongue is soft, warm, wet, and so entirely eager to lick and suck every inch of you. It’s not until he starts allowing his moans to vibrate into your flesh that you hike one of your legs up and open your cunt against his working tongue more.
Guiding him by his hair still, you press his face harshly into you with little to no fight for air from him, and you’re loving it. Loving the way he whines for more when his tongue reaches the furthest limit, loving even more when he finally reaches his hands up to your pussy and spreads it out for himself.
He isn’t even thinking at this moment, just tasting and feeling you guide his tongue as if this is what you wanted all along. The thought alone of someone like you wanting to fuck his tongue like this sets his cock on fire in so many ways. He’s so hard right now that it hurts to think about it at all. Jay doesn’t give a single fuck about how pathetic he must sound to you right now, whimpering and panting against you as if this was the only sweet thing in your apartment he wanted to eat anyway. 
You hear a clatter to the floor, knowing for a fact that he’s knocked his glasses off of his face from the angle in which he skewed his neck in order to fuck his tongue into you. You wonder what’s going through his mind right now, because goddamn he’s eating you out like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted. He’s impressively messy and loud with it too, making you feel as if you must taste like the sweetest thing on earth to him. 
For some reason, thinking back to all of the non-sexual situations you’d passively seen Jay in? It turns you on even more. The big-brained student who is constantly making straight As and never going out to parties eats pussy like this? Eats your pussy like this? Better than half of the men you’d already been with? Jay doesn’t miss a single centimeter of it,  and you can tell he’s focusing on you more than he has ever focused on his homework or studies before. 
You feel so deeply needed at this moment by Jay that all you can do is let out a desperate moan for him. One so that he knows he’s not the only one utterly stunned by the turn of events, but also because you’re fucking loving what he’s doing to you.
With each moan, Jay picks up his pace, using those same two fingers and spreading your cunt out impossibly wider just so he can attempt to bury his tongue deeper into the messy, wet heat you offer. He’s spreading you apart so well that it almost pains you to move without the fear of being torn open by his tongue alone. Your clit has barely even been reached but he still managed to make you feel sensitive to the point of wanting to beat your fists on the table out of sheer frustration for not approaching him sooner. 
Not only can he help you pass your classes, but he surely could make you feel like a fucking queen on top of it all, licking you open, up and down, as if he were born and trained for you and you alone? Insane.
“You’re so–” You groan out, releasing his hair from your grip but pressing your ass out more so that you can feel him slip his tongue back to your clit with impossible reach. He continues that, sliding his tongue from your clit to your entrance, dipping in and swirling the muscle before going back to your clit. All while he’s moaning, groaning, and panting against you. 
It’s too much, he’s so incredibly eager that you’re honestly too sensitive to let him keep going. You hate it when you pull your hips forward and lift from the table. Your legs are shaking when you do this, and shaking even more when you turn to face him and lean against the table again. 
“How–?” You look down at him in pleasant surprise, watching him lick his lips much like you hoped he would. “How are you so good at this?” 
Jay is stunned by your question because in all fairness, he’s only ever eaten a girl out once and like, it wasn’t that great because she made him stop within like a minute. He wasn’t really thinking about what to do with you though, or how to do it. He just…did it. That’s all. So obsessed with the taste and smell of you to the point he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. He’d still be licking you right now if you didn’t move away. 
“I–don’t know.” He shamefully admits, nonchalantly moving his hands to his pants and unbuttoning them. Not to fuck you or anything, mostly just to release his cock from the chokehold of the denim rubbing against him. 
“You’re lying.” You deadpan, running your hand between your legs and quivering the moment your fingers run over your swollen clit. “There’s no way you haven’t practiced doing this.” You gasp, looking at him as if no other man exists. 
He shakes his head, looking up at you from the floor with innocent eyes. His lips are wet, his eyes are hooded, his hair sticking up from your fingers guiding him– it’s a lot to see him like this when you’ve only ever seen him as that goody-two-shoes student who doesn’t know how to have fun. Clearly, Jay knows how to have fun.
Your gaze on him makes him feel more bashful as he looks down to the floor, feeling embarrassed that you’re praising a complete amateur at this. 
Using your leg, you nudge him.
“You did all of that and didn’t even touch yourself?” You ask in curiosity, noting how he had only just now undone his pants to relieve pressure. “Let me see it.” You say again, almost demanding as you hop up on the table and spread your legs even more.
Frantic at your tone of voice, Jay stumbles to his feet and pushes his pants down to his thighs. His cock springs out and stands erect in front of you. You could stare all day, honestly. Jay, of all people? He’s the one with a cock this big? He’s the one with a size that could make you feel as if you’re being split in half? Well, fuck.
“God.” You comment, mouth falling open at the way it twitches in mid-air. “All of the girls would be fucking swooning, Jay, really.” You get a bit flustered yourself because only now do you understand who you just seduced and what he’s got to offer outside of brains. 
In all of his shyness, Jay hides his face from you again despite his cock out in all of its glory. Your mouth could honestly start watering if he hadn’t just eaten you out to the point of needing him to stop. Meaning, your throat is too dry right now to start drooling. 
Without another thought, you pull your shirt and bra off all in one go. No way in hell is he leaving without fucking you stupid with a cock like that. Absolutely no fucking way  would you let this go to waste.
“When’s the last time you’ve done anything with a girl?” You ask now, reaching for his arm and pulling his gaze back towards you, now almost completely naked save for your skirt hiked up to your waist. 
Jay stares at you again, much like he did when you spread your legs in front of him, this time zoning in on the way your nipples are erect and begging for his mouth to be put to use again. He nearly forgets that you’re talking to him because of the way you’ve presented yourself to him. The reality is right in front of his face, but he still wonders if this must be a dream.
“I–um– right out of high school before she broke up with me,” He says in a lazy voice, slightly raspy. It sounds as if it doesn’t even matter to him because he is so focused on you in front of him. “I’ve only had sex two times.”
“Aw–” You pitifully look at him. “What a waste, you’re such a pretty boy.” You coo, wiggling your hips as if to entice his cock to make its way towards you. “You’ve got the brains and the cock for it. You must feel so neglected.”
All he does is nod, because yes, he does feel fucking neglected, partly because he let it happen and mostly because he knows he doesn’t know how to talk to girls. Right now, Jay could genuinely start crying if you keep talking to him like this though. He can’t tell if you’re mocking him or being genuine, but the only thing he wants to do is bury his cock so deeply inside of you that all you can do is moan out mantras of how pretty he is again. He wants to hear you moan over how much time has been wasted without his cock inside of you, how badly you’d want him again and again after this. 
You can see his facial expressions change every few seconds and to be fair, your body yearns to be filled. With the way he is looking at you, there’s no way he doesn’t want to.
“Wanna fuck me, Jongie?” You ask, realizing that you much prefer calling him this rather than his full name because he seems to lean directly into it. 
“God,” He sighs out, hanging his head to look at the way his cock still stands painfully erect throughout the conversation. “Can I?” He asks now, making eye contact with you through pleading eyes.
You reach out for him, grabbing his waist and pressing his cock directly against your core. You lean your head back a bit to look at him and the way his eyes sear straight through your own. His pupils are dilated, his cheeks are rosy, and his lips are glistening. You lick against them, and the way he immediately starts to kiss you makes you think he’s a liar. He knows exactly what he’s doing with his mouth regardless of where it is. His tongue presses into your mouth so beautifully that you genuinely could argue that this man has only ever had sex twice. 
Maybe he’s a natural? 
Jay knows exactly when to grind his cock between your folds, knows exactly when to pull back to kiss your neck, and knows exactly how to lean you back with his hand protecting the back of your head so that it doesn’t slam against the table. 
He slips his cock so beautifully as he trails his kisses to your tits too, suckling gently against one of your nipples before he nearly can’t stand it anymore. He’s in his own world, barely recognizing that he’s not the only one experiencing this right now.
With an eager hand, Jay grabs his cock and presses it directly into you without waiting any longer. He isn’t slow or gentle with it. You can feel how desperate he is solely because of the way he can’t seem to fathom taking it slow. He doesn’t let you adjust, no. The second the head of that thick cock slips in he’s slamming in. All the way, forcing a yelp from your throat and a tight grip to his back.
He’s lost himself in the moment and you’re loving it. Loving the way his tongue picks up against your nipples, and the way there is no rhythm or rhyme to his thrusts. His size alone is enough for you, and you can admit to loving every single push and pull his body is offering.
The room is silent save for his whimpers, your gasps, and the wet sound of skin slapping against skin. You’re quick to wrap a leg around his waist so that when he presses in again, you can force him to stay in place, if just to let him genuinely feel what it’s like to have a pussy clenching around him.
“You feel it?” You groan out, feeling his teeth pinch against your nipple and sending a sharp pain down your body. 
He nods frantically, pulling your nipple with his lips as he does it. You can tell he’s drooling, wetting your chest in such an embarrassing way, but he’s so–Jay. He’s Jay. This is Jay.
You watch his face and the way he winces with each pulse of your hole quivering around the sheer size of him, and you coo out at him when his cock twitches in response. As if you can handle yourself right now, as if he can too.
Neither of you can comprehend the pleasure.
“Can’t believe I get to be your third.” You sing out. “You’re so good, so–”
“S-stop talking, fuck-” Jay calls out in a broken and choked gasp, feeling too turned on by the way you speak. He can’t help it when he forces his hips to move against the pressure of your leg trying to keep him in place. This time he fucks at a quicker pace. His mouth falls open against your breast and his hands shoot to your waist as he pulls himself up and opens his eyes. 
He watches the way your sticky cunt coats him as he slides in and out of you, fingers pressing so hard into your hips that you feel he could be bruising you. 
You’re so in awe of him losing complete control that you want nothing more than to cum with him inside of you. You quickly reach your hand down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive spot almost to the point that you could start crying out at how painful it truly is at this moment. You’ve never been this sensitive for a man, and yet, you’re coming undone beneath him and nearly losing as much control as he has. 
A mess of moans and groans is filling the room as Jay chases his high, and you are at the point that you want to say the nicest and dirtiest things to him out of sheer arousal. So you do, you talk, and you talk. Whispers of “girls would die to be fucked by you,” turn to screams of, “yeah, fuck Jongie, just like that!” 
It wasn’t until you moaned out, “Cum with me, now, Jongie, I can’t hold it–” when Jay ’s hips stuttered and his eyes closed tightly in a frustrated groan. “Stop–” He grunts, hips pressing impossibly hard against you. To the point that you scoot up on the table. “Stop, I’m–” He groans again, attempting to pull out so that he can release against your pulsing and empty pussy.
But you don’t let him.
Your legs hold him in place as you release your clit and pull yourself up on your arms just to grab against his neck and pull him down with you against the table. 
“Cum in me.” You nearly demand, holding his face so that he can’t look away from you.
You watch the way his pupils dilate more at the words and you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you. Then? His pupils are gone. He’s rolling his eyes back now, looking so fucking beautiful while doing it.
Jay’s eyebrows fall much like his mouth does when he cums. His hips are frantic but his face looks calm, and not a single sound releases from his lips. His breath is caught in his throat with each twitch, shooting ropes into you so deeply that you feel each wave of his pleasure hitting your cervix. 
  You’re very quick to rub your clit again, harsh and rough circles being amplified by the way his abdomen adds pressure to your hand with each push of his cock in you. It sends you over edge so fast, even he feels the clench, choking out each spurt of his remaining orgasm. 
You grab onto him harshly now, without a thought in your head besides kissing him. He kisses you back, realizing that despite having sex before, this may be the first time he’s ever made a girl cum. It’s certainly the first time he’s ever felt his cock being tugged by the walls of a pussy as it works itself through an orgasm, anyway.
Crazy thing is…he’s not done. Like, he can’t stop cumming. Lasting entirely far too long and far past sensitivity. Jay opens his eyes to look at you when you’re reaching the end of your own orgasm, all while he’s still filling you up, and even feeling his load bubble out from around him with each tight thrust. Your voice is beautifully raspy, and the way you hold onto him makes him feel like you should never let go. 
Upon his ears popping and finally emptied, he genuinely feels the mess between the two of you. Quickly, he pulls back and notes that the hem of his shirt is absolutely fucking soaked. In an attempt to take a small step back in order to remove himself from you, he nearly trips over his pants that had fallen to his ankles.
“Oh.” You laugh, wincing as you feel his cock leave you empty. “Probably should have undressed you.” Your eyes sparkle at the large damp spot, nearly making his shirt entirely see-through from just how soaked it really is. 
Jay steps out of his pants silently and just kind of stands there awkwardly, watching the cum spill from you. Then panic spreads across his face. 
“Um,” He croaks out, voice cracking almost immediately. “I– I couldn’t pull out…I’m so sorry.”
“I didn’t want you to.” You soothe him, noting how he’s right back to his awkward and shy persona the moment he’s finished fucking you. “It’s fine, I’m protected” You confirm for him, just to see the relief replace that panic.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“So–” You comment, looking down at the wrinkled papers in front of you. “You really expect me to try and write at least 1200 words tonight?” 
Jay tilts his head at you, sitting with a blanket covering his entire body as his clothes go through the cycles of a wash. “If we hadn’t gotten off track, you could already be almost done with it.” 
“God, you are such a fucking bore.” You laugh, shivering at the cold air hitting your bare skin. “I’m literally naked right now and you’re making me do this right now?” 
“Finish your paper and we can talk about that. Besides, I kind of need to recover for more than thirty minutes from that, you know? I’m sensitive.” He shoots back, not afraid to sound as embarrassing as he truly is now. 
To his surprise, you nod with a cheeky smirk. Promising you any amount of him after what happened was enough to force your focus on your school work for now at least. Just because he did it once doesn’t mean he will always want to fuck stupid girls. If anything, Jay deserves someone who respects his work ethic and need to help others right? The huge cock is just a bonus when you think about it.
You know it’s going to be a hell of a month after tonight, but for the most part, you think that studying with Jay may have been your best college decision to date. You can learn a lot from him, and apparently... he can learn from you too. You just hope he doesn’t run off and use that knowledge on other girls once he realizes he’s definitely got the ability to break hearts. 
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Hi! I enjoy your stories very much. As a shy person myself wanting to push myself out of a shell I am curious if you've always been naturally good at meeting people, or do you get social anxiety too? Sorry if this is a super random/personal question. I appreciate you!
I used to get REALLY bad social anxiety but then I accidentally threw myself off the deep end on the first night of college when I heard people assembling furniture out in the hall and thought "If I do not get up right this second and go hang out with those people I'm going to lie here crying about how much I miss my family all night and they wouldn't want that."
So I went out in the hall and said "Hi! I'm [Gallus], and I thought I should meet people instead of being a miserable wreck in my room!"
And then we spent the rest of the night assembling dorm furniture, talking about weeb shit and generally having a good time! and every single time I've gone and introduced myself to someone since then, I've either made MORE friends and had a good time, or had, at worst, a perfectly neutral time. So that positive re-enforcement really helped.
Anyway, the three Guidlines to Meeting People:
Meet people at places they expect to meet people. People do not want to make friends when they are busy with something else- see how much we hate it when people come to the door when we were working or cleaning. But when they're at somewhere they expect to socialize like a Hobby Meeting, a convention, The Club? they're THRILLED to make friends and tbh probably glad you broke the ice. Go to places where people who share interests with you are meeting. They'll probably adopt you.
2. The Worst Thing that will happen is that you will lightly confuse someone. No for real. Nobody is going to scream at you and you're not going to terrorize someone by saying hi. It's fine.
3. Sample conversation script for those of us who have brains that make us act like we're in a movie:
*Be At Place to Meet People* *See someone who looks interesting to talk to, who is not actively doing a physical task or already having a conversation* You: Hello! I love your (Physical aspect of their appearance they chose: Hair color, lobster-themed dress/Dog/Orbital mechanics tattoo)!" Them: Oh, thanks! It (single sentence of explanation: I did it myself/It has pockets/He loves people/I got it for completing my thesis!) (this is a sign that they are open to social activity) You: That's so cool! I'm (you name), and I'm new here. You seem like cool people, can I hang out with you? Them, and I actually for real swear this will be the answer 90% of the time: Sure!
Congratulations! You have introduced yourself to someone. Continue to be a huge dweeb about the thing you have a mutual interest in and you will shortly have a new friend!
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mywritersmind · 1 day
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TOUCH ME - LN4
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summary : y/n shows her affection through hugs, kisses, and just plain touching. lando is sad when he realizes that she does this with everyone but him.
listen up : no warnings!! cuteness!! singapore win!
word count : 747
⋆。‧˚⋆
It had been bothering him for months. Lando noticed when he and Y/n started becoming friends. After a long period of not liking each other, the two finally agreed to put their differences aside because of all their mutual friends.
Their mutual friends started becoming the issue for Lando.
She touches everyone. Not in a weird way, she just shows affection through touch… Through touching anyone but him.
Lando watches her in his drivers room, she’s drawing on the small whiteboard; a tiny lando and a tiny y/n in the corner.
“Why do you touch everyone?” He asks out of nowhere, she turns back slightly, giving him a look before turning back to the board.
“My love language is touch… I guess? At least that’s what people tell me.” She shrugs, coming to the end of the drawing.
“But you don’t touch me.” This makes her pause for a moment before finishing off the drawing and turning back around to face the man.
He's sitting on his drivers bed, race suit unzipped half way and water bottle in hand.
“You want me to touch you?” she raises a brow, teasing him a bit.
He looks down at his water, fiddling with the straw, “I just mean- we’re friends, right? You seem to kiss and hug everyone except for me.”
This makes her more uncomfortable, she slips her hands in her pockets and shrugs, “I don’t mean to not. I guess it’s just different with you.”
“How am I different from Oscar or Charles?” He looks up at her again, his eyes so bright, “They both have girlfriends and you don’t seem bothered.”
Y/n laughs, not thinking before speaking, “Yeah because I’m not into them like that.”
Lando’s eyes widen a bit, “But- you’re into me… like that?” Y/n decides there is two options,
1. Confess her feelings for Lando, ruining all the progress they’ve made to have a good and comfortable friendship while simultaneously risking rejection from someone she really cares about.
2. Lie.
Two seems safer.
“Of course not.” she shakes her head.
Lando doesn’t believe her, or he just doesn’t want to believe her, “So why don’t you touch me? Even after I won in Zandvoort you didn’t hug me.” she hadn't realized how much this had hurt him. She was simply thinking about the hundreds of cameras facing them and how she was already blushing.
Someone knocks on the door then, calling out, “Lando, Warm up starting now.” He swallows, looking up at Y/n.
“I’ll go.” She says quietly, wondering how everything so quickly went south, “Good Luck, Lan.”
⋆。‧˚⋆
Y/n watched the race with Max, on the edge of her seat and sweating. The moment Lando crossed the finish line, a grin was permanently planted onto her face.
After every interview, the podium, a shower, and change of clothes, he walked out to the track where Y/n sat.
She jumped up and hugged him.
“You’re so fucking amazing.” Lando’s heart skipped a beat.
“Enjoy the race?” He smiles as she pulls away, her hands joining and clapping.
“Duh! Everyone else was all boring and whatever but you did so well! Twenty seconds ahead- shit!” even though he was in the race and just had a thirty minute meeting about it, he could listen to her talk about it for hours. “And Lan, about before- I really didn’t mean to hurt you it’s just different and I don’t know why but I swear it’s not to be mean! You’re my friend and-”
“Just friend?” Lando stops her immediately.
She looks up at him, “Well… I always thought-”
“I fancy you. I have for a while.” He just spits it out, his hands on her elbows as she stares blankly at him.
She blinks, “You’re not taking the piss are you because I swear!” He kisses her then.
She’s laughing against him as he pulls her closer, touching her softly and savoring it.
“I like you too.” She blushes. “And fuck you for not telling me sooner!”
He scoffs, “You could have as well! Plus you’re so damn mysterious I couldn’t tell if I should be flattered at your yelling or scared.”
She laughs, kissing his cheek before resting her head on his chest.
He puts his arms around her, his heart beating rapidly, “If you touch your friends like that then i’m damn excited to see how you treat your boyfriend.”
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chilumi-shipper · 2 days
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Soulbound
Zhongli x GN!Reader (Soulmate!AU)
Summary: Zhongli hated the mark on his neck, and he hated whoever the mark bounded him to. But fate plays a cruel joke, matching him with you, as he swore he would love no one else but Guizhong.
Tags: Angst/No Comfort, Short Story, Rejection, Hurtful Words, Hatred to Love
Soulmark - A mark that binds two individuals as soulmates.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Morax had always been frustrated by the mark on his neck.
A glowing, permanent part of his body that marks him tied to a soulmate. He thinks its stupid, for the love of his life was already in front of him, a gray-haired inventor that no carving in his body could ever stop him from adoring.
He finds it unbelievable that his neck is claimed by a soulmark yet Guizhong's remain blank, and he curses Celestia above for such a foul joke.
How could he be for anyone else but her?
When her dust settled in the field of glaze lilies he thought were incomparable to her beauty, he was utterly devasted, his clawed hands held onto his neck, wanting to rip the soulmark that had been taunting him for centuries.
How could he be marked for someone else while the love of his life laid lifeless?
He loathed his mark, everything about it, and he will till his last breath.
...
Zhongli deeply dislikes you.
You are a messy, silly, babbling buffoon.
An adventurer from Mondstadt that embodies the nation's will of freedom. Bubbly, carefree, and loud, much like a fellow god he didn't particularly like.
Despite of his disdain of you, your affection towards him never wavered. You filled his somber days with excitement as you joyfully tell him stories about your adventures, share some new recipes you've learned, even ushering him to talk about obscure Liyue historical facts that you've always found interesting.
He was much too proper to shoo you away, and his cold looks and short responses didn't discourage you to try to make friends with the man that peeked your curiosity.
Ever so slowly, you had pried open his caged heart, planting a small seed that was so distinctly you.
He would have accepted you, he would have seen you as a friend... and yet...
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a faint, familiar mark on your neck, revealed when you put your hair up into a ponytail.
Zhongli knew he truly disliked you.
...
"I don't believe in the marks either, Mr. Zhongli..." You reasoned with him, but his gaze still stung you with daggers.
He caged himself back up, ensuring that you could not care for the little seed you planted, no light would be able to reach it again.
His heart would not open...
No matter how many times he catches himself smiling at your antics.
No matter if he displays every gift and trinket you give him from your travels.
No matter how much he preferred your cooking over anyone else's.
No matter how beautiful you look staring up at him with your doe eyes as you confess your affection.
No matter how frustrated he felt at himself when he made you cry as he rejects your feelings.
Because, for him, how could there be anyone else but her?
...
"Do you see why it could never be you?"
You both stood in front of a monument, surrounded by various plants and objects you assume to be from friends of this ancient goddess.
"I bet she was amazing."
"She was perfect. Perhaps that's why I was not worthy to share a mark with her."
At this point, you were used to his words, how they praise her, how they degrade you.
"You're pretty great too, Zhongli..."
Faith places identical marks on the necks of two soulmates, and the rest is a romantic story of the passion that builds up as people pursue their marks of love.
Fate is cruel to you and him.
"That mark is not for you, Y/N." The Geo Archon says to you, tearing you apart silently, as you stand and take his words.
His heart quivers despite the harsh words coming from his own mouth. Even after millennia of having the mark engraved on his neck, after concluding that maybe he would allow your little seed to prosper even just for a bit, he still chooses to cling onto his hopeless past.
Tears fall down from your eyes, but you remain quiet, only nodding in agreement.
You loathed the mark on your neck.
...
Zhongli opens the cage of his heart a little, allowing him to peak at the small sprout from the seed you planted.
So distinctly you, it was the only thing he has of you.
After letting you leave him at Guizhong's monument with tears still staining your face, he couldn't help but miss you.
He couldn't help but let you finally take your place in his heart, after so long of hating his soulmark, hating whoever the mark tied him to, he fears he has finally accepted faith.
...
"Where is it?" He grips your arm harshly, his hold not faltering as you try to shake him off. His gaze was cold, yet you could still catch the hint of alarm in his eyes. "What have you done?"
After weeks... you return to him... missing something.
You winced at the stress of his words, feeling frightened under his tense hold. "I..." His bruising grip didn't falter, urging you to explain yourself. "S-Surprise...?"
"You..." Zhongli looks at you in disbelief. "How stupid could you be?"
"M-Mr. Zhongli... it's a blessing of the Anemo Archon... I prayed for him set us free from fate."
"Y/N... I..." He was at a loss for words, his heart ached as his eyes searched your neck in vain. "Fate... going against it is painful. It must've been excruciating."
"It was... but this if for you, Zhongli..." You smiled, feeling him loosen his grip. "Because I love... loved you." You fully free yourself from him, rubbing at where he previously held you.
The wind around him picked up, and he hears the faint whispers of an old friend along with it. Whispers of comfort, as he clearly ruined what would have been the light of the rest of his days.
Your soulmark fades, but his remains...
Zhongli loathed his mark, for it bears no meaning, no one but him bears that mark.
As you leave, trying to fade away in the background of his life, you remain under a spotlight in his eyes, for you will always be the one that shares his mark, no matter if it is visible.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
What y'all think of this one? :3
I bet y'all's feelings were hurt hehe
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luveline · 1 day
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hey! i wanted to request r with a best friend!marauder, and she feels guilty for being a clingy/touchy bsf? eg. always holds hands and loops arms together and loves hugs. but said marauder comforts her? thank you jadey
The steps off of the bus feel especially steep on just four hours sleep. You’re not dizzy, but when James offers his hand from the ground, you accept it. Much less scary to know he could catch you if you slipped. 
“I’m surprised we weren’t holding hands already,” he says, giving yours a squeeze as you land, and pulling you to the side where the already departed rugby team and their family members wait for their luggage to be retrieved from the bus’ belly.
“Oh, I know,” you say. There’s an odd awkwardness to it that you’re trying to bury. 
James is used to you. Your hand in his is casual, perhaps a little too much for company, but it’s just hand-holding. You like feeling that he’s near, the slight chill of British summer more readily suffered with his palm against yours. He runs hot. 
He lets your joined hands swing gently with the wait, doesn’t bother letting it go until the luggage is all out. James grabs his duffel bag and your suitcase, and everyone makes their way to the hotel. It’s late —the team were expecting to be here much sooner but there had been a punctured tire, and then an accident on the M4. James will have to play the game tomorrow with less hours of sleep than intended, but he’ll play well. 
“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” James says a little later, when you’ve shoved your suitcase under the double bed. He turns off the big light. 
“That is an uncharacteristically large word.” 
“Loser,” he says, pushing down the blankets to sit next to you. He rubs his mouth and nose, then he turns to you, all business. “You are quiet, though. What’s the matter? Still feel poorly?” 
“I feel fine.” 
“You look awful.” He winces at his own harshness. “You look upset, sorry. And you still have sleep in your eyes, let me–”
You sigh and tilt your head up for him to scratch the sleep from your eye. For a moment, it’s quiet, just your face in his hand, his fingernail against the delicate inside of your eye. “Do you ever think we’re too close?” 
“Not really. Sometimes when you kick me in your sleep, maybe.” He takes back his hands. 
“You don’t care that I’m, like, constantly on you? I don’t know, like earlier, when you helped me off of the bus. Most friends wouldn’t keep holding on to each other after, but we do.” 
“Most friends wouldn’t take a nine hour bus just to see me play an away game, so…” James gives you a little poke in the ribs. “But we aren’t friends, we’re best friends. So what if we want to hold hands? That’s our business.” 
You frown. “You really don’t care? Even when I’m harassing you for hugs and stuff?” Nausea sits in your chest, waiting for him to say, Yeah, actually, the hugging is a bit much. 
“Babe, I love you,” James says, his glasses slipping down his nose as he gives a shake of the head. His eyebrows are pinched in confusion, but his mouth is softening. “How long have you been thinking about this?” 
“I just don’t want to be a burden.” 
“You’re never a burden.” He opens his arms. 
You crawl into his embrace, reassured by his chin where it digs into your forehead, and his warm voice. 
“You don’t bother me. We bother each other, right? We fight like kids. I love it, I wouldn’t trade our friendship for anything.” He pauses. Hums. “‘Cept a Big Mac. I’m starving, I can’t believe we got stuck on the motorway like that.” 
“You’d trade me for a Big Mac?” 
“In a moment of weakness.” 
His smile curves against your head. His arms settle on your back. It’s the same as every other hug you’ve shared, warm and easy. “I wouldn’t,” he murmurs, “I don’t know why you’re worried about being too much, but don’t bother. You’re touchy, I’m touchy, we’re affectionate people.” 
“I spent too long on that stupid bus,” you say, dropping your flushed face into his shoulder. 
“You definitely did. Why would I care about you hugging me too much?” His hand moves gently up and down. “You give the best hugs around.” 
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toadtoru · 3 days
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GOOD LUCK BABE
when you wake up next to him in the middle of the night / with your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife / and when you think about me, all of those years ago / you're standing face to face with "i told you so"
pairing: shoko x fem!reader contents: angst, angst, angst, no curses au, reader is rich, reader is addressed with she/her pronouns, childhood friends to ???, no-curse au, some gojo x reader, alcohol consumption, smoking and weed wordcount: 4k
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“Do you like him?”
You’re twenty-one the second time Shoko asks you this question. You’re out on the balcony, attempting to ignore the loud yelling and music being blasted from the small apartment behind you. You lean over the railing, looking down at the people below you. Shoko takes another drag of her cigarette. She glances back at the closed door behind you. She can easily catch the white blob of hair amongst the partygoers. 
“Of course I do! You’re all my best friends.” 
You both know that it’s not what Shoko means.
“Yeah, but do you like him?” Shoko repeats, and you pout when you realise that she’s not letting you off the hook. You send her a look while gently tapping your fingers against the railing. Shoko’s eyes follow the movement, trying not to glare at the diamond ring on your finger. 
You grew up different; Shoko knows that. Whereas she and Suguru grew up relatively normal, had parents who worked simple jobs and came home to cook dinner, you and Satoru were raised by maids and strict rules. She supposes this is the reason you’re so nonchalant about all this. Whereas Shoko as always had the choice, you never had. Still, it bothers her how willingly you let yourself be captured, how little you fight for the freedom to be your own person. She wishes she could shake you till you understood, but instead, she’s stuck here on this shitty balcony, hoping that you might answer her question truthfully for once. She takes another drag of her cigarette, inhaling deeply and hoping that you won’t notice how tense her shoulders are. 
“It doesn’t matter if I like him,” you say, shrugging. You glance over at Shoko, and something passes between you for a moment. Your eyes flicker to her lips, still wrapped around her cigarette. It’s barely a second before you’re making eye contact again. 
“I’m just happy my parents chose Gojo and not that asshole from Zenin Enterprises.” 
You’re twenty when you go to a bar for the first time. It’s your birthday, officially the last one to turn twenty out of the four of you. It’s the first time in six months that you managed to get together. After you graduated, Satoru immediately started working at his dad's company; you and Shoko started at separate universities; and Suguru… well, none of you really know what he’s doing. Shoko recalls him saying he has some kind of sales job that causes him to travel a lot. 
By this time, purple circles have settled under Shoko’s eyes, and cigarettes are a staple in her purse. In all honesty, she doesn’t want to be here. It’s a fancy place—more of a club than a bar, really. Satoru’s choice, of course. There’s no way that you picked this place. 
You look stunning. Dressed in a top and a mini skirt, you look both expensive and endlessly tempting. You’ve already drank some at your place, where you all started, and you’re pleasantly giggly, hanging on Satoru's arm. Shoko wishes you’d hang off her like that, but recently there’s been a weird divide between you. You’re hard to get a hold of. 
You catch her eyes and smile. “You look nice tonight, Sho,” you say, lips curling teasingly as you reach out to pull a piece of hair behind her ear. “Your hair has gotten longer,” you add with a hum. 
Shoko shrugs. Suguru and Satoru are talking about something that she’s not a part of, so she moves closer to you. “How have you been?” she asks casually, trying to act like she isn’t hanging off every word you say. 
“Come dance with me,” you reply, grabbing her hand and pulling her out on the dancefloor. Shoko follows you wordlessly. She’s never been much for dancing, but for you, she’ll make an exception. 
“I’m alright,” you say. “School is hard,” you add, and Shoko follows the way your body moves, easily falling into a rhythm with the music. She wonders why you couldn’t have this conversation at the bar, but in a way, she’s happy that she doesn’t have to share you with the boys for a while. Your fingers are intertwined as you both ignore everyone else on the crowded dance floor. It’s hot, and the music blasts from the speakers beside the DJ, all contributing to making Shoko feel dizzy. 
“What about you, Sho?” you ask, dancing closer. 
“School is hard,” she repeats after you, grinning when you roll your eyes. You dance for a little while longer, silence creating a distance between you. Shoko wonders why it’s like this all of a sudden. You used to always be close; the silence between you was never uncomfortable like this. 
“I miss you,” Shoko says. She doesn’t even know why she says it. These are the kinds of things Shoko feels in silence. She never shares them with other people. But for some reason, she can’t stand the thought of not being able to share it with you. You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. 
“I’m dating Satoru.” 
Cutting Shoko open with a scalpel would probably have hurt less. The music becomes white noise, the room feels small, and the air becomes hard to breathe. She looks towards the bar where Satoru’s talking with Suguru. As if on queue, Satoru looks up from his conversation to look at the two of you. He smiles at Shoko when their eyes meet. Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. Bastard. It’s always him, isn’t it? 
“I need a cigarette,” Shoko mumbles, walking towards the smoking area of the club. 
“Sho,” you say, following her as she makes her way through the dancefloor towards the doors with the smoking sign. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you say, and Shoko shakes her head as she pushes the door open and exits onto a small rooftop. The air is chilly, and there are several people already there, smoking and talking. 
“I’m sorry,” you repeat as Shoko lights her cigarette and takes a long drag. “Will you at least look at me?”
She does. Soft, kind brown eyes locked on you. You’ve always revelled in Shoko’s attention. It made you feel special to be deserving of it, for a person who’s usually nonchalant and seemingly careless, that you were interesting enough. Even when she would tease you and push your buttons, you liked it.
You don’t like it right now.
“Why?” Shoko asks. Your brows knit together. 
“Shoko, I’m sorry if you’re mad–”’
“No. Why him?” Shoko interrupts. She takes another drag before blowing the smoke off to the side. You frown. 
“You promised you’d stop smoking,” you say, and Shoko laughs. 
“Is it your parents?” she asks, stepping closer. Smoke fills your lungs as she blows some onto your face. You turn to the side, but she grabs your chin and makes you look at her. “Is it you? Do you like him?” She asks. You frown. 
“Yes,” you reply, though it’s half-hearted and soft. 
“Speak up,” Shoko says, but you don’t. Your brows are furrowed, and there’s a little pout on your lips. Your hands come to tug on her shirt as if you’re beckoning her to come closer, but she doesn’t, not even bothering to look down at where you’re holding onto her. 
She feels an awful desire to kiss you, to show you what liking—no, loving—someone really is. She doesn’t fight it when she leans in, pressing your lips together. This kiss is much different from any kiss you’ve shared before. It’s meaner, more desperate. As if Shoko is trying to put every word she won’t speak into this moment, lips moving against lips. Your fingers move from her shirt up to her neck, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. 
Shoko tastes like smoke and the beer she took three sips off when you first arrived. It’s deprived; how good it all feels to let go. Then you part and you gasp for air for a few seconds before you step back, wiping your hands in your shirt and turning around, disappearing into the bar. 
You’re fifteen when you say the words that make Shoko take the first drag of a cigarette. You’re sitting on the floor in your room, watching some show that you begged her to see. Shoko can’t even remember which one it was, although it doesn’t matter all that much. You’re huddled close together, giggling whenever the main characters do something funny. Your eyes are on the screen, but Shoko can’t help but look at you. 
It’s dark out. She should’ve been home hours ago, but your parents aren’t home—they never are—and the maid left hours ago. 
“Have you ever kissed anyone, Sho?” you ask. Shoko blinks, turning to look at the TV again. A kiss scene is unfolding. Fairly innocent, she thinks. She looks back at you to find you already looking. Your faces are awfully close, only illuminated by the blue light from the show still going, though it’s all background noise at this point. 
“No,” Shoko replies bluntly. You smile, your cheeks heating up as you lean in closer. 
“Do you want to?” you ask. It’s innocent. You’re smiling, your eyes darting down to Shoko’s lips for a second before they’re back up. 
“I don’t know,” Shoko replies. Already at fourteen, she hates how she feels around you. There’s something disarming about you that makes Shoko lose all her cool and turn into a complete puddle of weird, awkward teenage mess. Her heart always seems to hammer in her chest, and her hands feel clammy. 
“We could try, you know,” you say. You’re so close now that Shoko can feel your breath on her lips, smell the fruit rolls you ate earlier. It’s so very you, so sweet. Blood roars in her ears, and she doesn’t say anything, afraid her voice might betray her. 
“For practice,” you add, and Shoko finds herself nodding along. For practice, sure. She ignores the gnawing feeling in her chest, the looming knowledge that she can never come back from this. Shoko has never been much interested in love or boys. She’s always opted for medical books and crime mysteries instead of chick flicks. Though with you, it’s always been different. You could rope her into watching The Notebook and Titanic as many times as you wanted if it meant Shoko got to spend time with you. 
“Is this okay?” you ask, placing your hand on Shoko’s cheek, and she nods again. “Yeah,” she replies, almost breathless. You’re so close now.
So so close. 
It’s innocent. There’s no tongue, no great big sparks. Yet Shoko feels electric. Your lips are soft. So soft. And despite how blunt you were just seconds ago, you feel shy now all of a sudden, pulling away with flushed cheeks and a sort of dazed look on your face. 
“Thank you,” is all you can think to say, and it makes Shoko snort at your reaction. This causes a giggle to be pulled from you as well, and you sit there for a while, just lingering in each other's presence, high on the experience of your first kiss together. It’s innocent, sweet. Shoko wishes she could bottle up the feelings you give her and save them from the rot she’s already feeling building up inside of her. 
She reaches for your cheek and pulls you in for a second kiss. You let her, getting braver this time. Your lips move against each other. It’s inexperienced and clumsy, but Shoko wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Then you whisper the god-forsaken words. 
“I wish you were a boy, Sho.” 
And Shoko feels the rot fester in her gut. 
“I should go,” she replies, stumbling out of your room and down the hall of your obscenely large house. She ignores your calls for her as she slips down through your kitchen.
She stops in her tracks when she notices the small packet on the counter. The maid must’ve left it, she thinks to herself as she picks it up and inspects it. Shoko and you have spied on her during enough smoke breaks to know. Two cigarettes left. She glances at the door. You haven’t followed her downstairs. She puts the box in her pocket and walks out your front door. 
How can two cigarettes hurt?
You’re twenty-three when you walk down the aisle in a beautiful white dress. Shoko watches from the fourth row, right next to Nanami. You and Satoru stand in front of the altar. Suguru sits on the front row with Satoru’s family. You hadn’t asked Shoko to sit with yours. 
The vows are formal. Clinical, almost. As though someone else wrote them for you, as though neither you nor Satoru actually feel the things you say. Nonetheless, you look blinding in your dress, even more blinding as you walk down the aisle and lock eyes with Shoko. 
She smiles at you. Purple rings have become more prominent under her eyes during the past few months. She’s told you they’re from late-night cramming and studying, and while that’s not technically untrue, there's another reason why she sleeps so badly as well. You smile back, and Shoko feels the green little thorn in her stomach reach just a little deeper. 
“Why are you looking all gloomy?” 
It’s playful. There’s no ill intent behind it. Satoru, as always, pretends to be unaware of anything that might start an uncomfortable conversation, instead resorting to acting like a fool. Shoko sighs. 
“Fuck off,” she says, though there’s no edge in her tone. She can’t ever really hate Satoru. No one can. That’s what's so annoying about him. Satoru walks forward and joins Shoko on the balcony from the venue of your wedding afterparty. Shoko doesn’t know where you are. Probably somewhere entertaining your guests, pretending that this is the happiest night of your life. 
Satoru eyes the cigarette between Shoko’s fingers as she takes another drag. 
“I thought you were quitting.”
“School’s been stressful.” 
“Ah,” Satoru nods, resting his arms on the railing and looking out over the city. It’s a peaceful night. The sky is clear, though you can’t see the stars due to the light of the city. Shoko exhales. 
“Are you doing alright, Shoko? You seem distant,” Satoru asks, eyes trained on the view in front of them. Shoko hums. 
“I’m alright,” 
They stand like that for a while, neither of them saying anything. Shoko wonders if she should just tell Satoru everything. About how she’s in love with his wife and has been for years. How she wakes up in the middle of the night, gasping for air and chasing dreams of you. You with your soft lips and pretty smile. You who never flinches away, you who remains the centre of Shoko’s world no matter how hard she tries to untangle herself from your web of love and praise.
She imagines it wouldn’t go down well. Even if Satoru has married you out of duty, she knows he still loves you. Maybe not as a wife, but as a companion. You’ve known each other for so long, known that you were promised to each other since you were mere children. 
“Ah, fuck, I better go save my wife.” 
The moment has passed. Shoko looks back towards the glass doors to the party. You’re stuck talking to some elders. Shoko doesn’t know who they are, but she assumes they’re from Gojo’s family. You glance towards the balcony. “Save me,” you mouth, and both Shoko and Satoru snort. 
“Duty calls,” he sings as he walks past Shoko. He looks back over his shoulder once. “Come back once you’ve finished that one, okay?”
You’re eighteen when you all huddle together on the floor in Suguru’s room, giggling and whispering about the joint that the boys somehow managed to secure. Suguru lights it and takes the first inhale. Satoru follows, cheeks immediately turning pink and a dopey smile settling on his lips as he passes it to Shoko. You watch Shoko curiously before she hands it to you. 
Carefully, you fold it between your two fingers, eyeing the little roll carefully. “How do I do it?” you ask, and Shoko snorts. Satoru is giggly already, lying down and putting his head in Suguru’s lap. Suguru looks mostly unaffected, yet he cracks a smile and pinches Satoru’s cheek. 
“You put it between your lips, and then you inhale. You gotta feel it all the way in your lungs,” Shoko explains. You try to do as she says, but when you exhale, barely any smoke comes out. Suguru chuckles. 
"Yeah, that was not an inhale,” he says, and you poke your tongue at him. Shoko moves closer to you, ignoring Suguru as she puts her hand on your thigh. 
“Try again,” she says, and you do, looking at her at the same time. Shoko smiles, and you choke, coughing out some as you feel tears prickling in your eyes. Shoko rubs a soothing hand along your thigh while Satoru laughs. You pat your chest, coughing furiously as tears run down your cheek and Shoko smiles at you. 
So cute. 
“C’mere,” she says, once your coughing has subsided. You pout at her, but move closer nevertheless, till you’re in her lap. The boys are quiet now, watching your exchange as Shoko puts a hand on your waist, taking the joint from your fingers with the other. 
“You ready?” she asks, and you nod wordlessly. Slowly, she inhales before leaning into you, blowing into your mouth. This time you inhale, puffing your chest out in a manner that makes Shoko grin. You exhale again, and Shoko pats your cheek rewardingly. 
“Good girl,” she mutters, and your jaw drops. Suguru coughs, and you can hear Satoru’s giggle increasing as you climb out of her lap and grab the joint again. Shoko smiles at you. The knowing kind that makes you want to bash your head into a wall. You ignore the heat in your cheeks as you peel your eyes away from her. 
“Okay, I can do it myself now, thank you,” you say, taking a big inhale. You hold it for a few seconds before exhaling again, white smoke leaving your lungs. 
“There you go,” Satoru says, flashing you his perfect white teeth. You frown and take another drag, for good measure, before Suguru takes the joint from you. 
“Woah, there,” he says, raising a brow at you. “This is your first time, right?”
“Yeah,” you reply, already feeling lightheaded. “So what?” 
“Might want to take it easy,” he says. You don't bother to reply, instead looking back at Shoko. She’s leaned back, resting on her elbows. She meets your gaze, tilting her head to the side. Taking you in. Examining you. You fiddle with your fingers in your lap, but you don’t break eye contact.
Then she nods at you. A tiny one, barely noticeable. You almost think you imagine it, if it isn’t for the teasing look in her eyes. 
An invitation. 
You don’t hesitate to take it, climbing over and promptly laying your head in her lap. Shoko laughs, but she lets you, adjusting herself so she can sit up and play with your hair. You hum, closing your eyes and wrapping your arms around her. You feel light, pleasant. 
“Someone’s feeling touchy,” Shoko says, smiling as she watches your brows knit together. She brings a finger down, running it over the crease formed between your eyebrows, forcing you to relax. 
“You’re my best friend, Sho.” Your voice is airy. “I’m allowed to feel touchy.”
You’re twenty when you kiss Shoko for the second time before slipping inside the crowded bar again. Shoko waits a few minutes before she follows you back in. She can still feel your pillowy lips and taste the gloss you wear. She feels dizzy, almost, under the neon lights, but she’s unsure if it’s the alcohol and nicotine or just you. 
Her eyes land on the table where she saw Satoru and Suguru earlier. The white blob of hair is easy to spot; it always is. Even when you’re running your fingers through them. 
Ah. 
Even when you run your fingers through Satoru’s hair while you kiss him stupid. His hands are on your hips, pulling you in. She can’t see your face, only your back. In a way, she’s glad. It makes the whole ordeal much easier. 
“There you are.” 
Suguru moves towards her, smiling casually when she turns to look at him. 
“I assume she’s told you?” he muses, nodding his head towards the two of you. Suguru’s hands are in his pockets, and his hair is tied back. Shoko shrugs. 
“Yeah,” Shoko says. She looks at you again before turning back to Suguru. “How long have you known?” she asks, and Suguru scratches his neck and hums. 
“About a month,” he says. Shoko shifts from one foot to another and nods. A month. A month and you didn’t tell her. She scoffs. Suguru raises a brow. 
“Are you upset?”
“No,”
“Alright,” there’s a teasing edge to Suguru’s tone that tells her he doesn’t quite believe her. Shoko’s brows narrow, and she feels her fingers itching for another cigarette. 
She gives you a last glance before pulling Suguru out with her for another cigarette. If you wanna kiss boys in bars, then so be it. 
You’re twenty-six when Shoko opens her door in the middle of the night and finds you on her doorstep, completely drenched from the rain. 
“I’m afraid there’s something rotten inside of me,” you say, and if your eyes weren’t brimming with tears, Shoko might have blamed your wet cheeks on the rain and tried to shrug it off, but it feels impossible with the way you stand there with red rims around your eyes. “I’m afraid that there’s something wrong with me, and it’s only a matter of time before you all figure it out,” you repeat, almost gasping for air as if each word brings you physical pain to speak. 
And Shoko steps aside, because what else can she do. How could she turn you away when you’re all she’s ever wanted, all she’s ever loved. Yet none of you make another move to do anything else as Shoko stands with the closed door behind her and you stand in the middle of her living room, your soaked clothes dripping in a puddle underneath you. 
“What’s going on?” Shoko asks. Your lips are downturned and your brows are furrowed, and you look so miserable that it makes Shoko’s stomach churn. 
“I don’t love him.” 
A beat. 
Shoko stares. Your eyes are trained on the puddle beneath you. 
“You were right. It doesn’t feel right when I’m with him. He’s my best friend, but—”
“Why are you here?” Shoko interrupts. She rubs the bridge of her nose, taking in a deep breath. 
“Sho-” you stumble across the room, but Shoko places a hand up and you stop in your tracks. 
“Stay there,” she says, and you frown. 
“I’m sorry, okay. I should’ve listened to you,” you say, knowing that it won’t help anything but saying it anyway.
Shoko always thought she would feel satisfaction in this moment. Some sense of superiority. To be able to say “I told you so” with a smile dancing on her lips. That all of it—all of the rot and pain—would be worth it once you realised you were wrong. Instead, she just feels bitter. 
“Yeah. You should have.” 
She realises she’s wasted so much time. Waiting, and waiting, and waiting. And for what? Shoko sighs. 
“You should leave.”
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thank you for reading!
i'm satoru when i get high btw. very giggly, very happy, very in love with all of my friends.
tagging @madaqueue since you asked, my munchkin. <3
masterlist | divider by enchanthings
313 notes · View notes
soobnny · 2 days
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no other heart — best friend!kim seungmin x reader ; only one person can ever persuade seungmin to do anything (1.4k words)
happy bday seungmo! you are my favorite person
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Seungmin feels Hyunjin before he even sees his face.
He comes in the form of a hand falling firmly on Seungmin’s shoulder, and the first thing the younger boy thinks is that your hands are supposed to be smaller.
The house that they’re in is loud, and really really crowded. It’s a setting that Seungmin doesn’t often take part in, preferring the quiet sounds of his airconditioning back at his room.
There is also a sharp contrast in how the boy favors his music. While he’s currently surrounded by the thrumming of music that beats in his ears, he would rather be at the dorm in the comfort of his lifeline (or, for better words, his collected playlist for the month).
From the corner of his eye, he sees his oldest friend, Chan, talking to a set of faces he’s never seen before. He wonders how the older boy does it. Seungmin has no plans of starting a conversation unlike Chan, not when he’s overstimulated by the flashing lights, and the confusing aromas wafting from the red cups that everyone seems to be holding, and the hand on his shoulder that most definitely is not yours.
“Seungmin, you came!” That’s also definitely not your voice.
“Hyunjinnie.” He breathes out, head muddled by his sudden urge to go home despite just having arrived around half an hour ago. He doesn’t sound as enthusiastic as his friend, but Hyunjin gives the boy a pass. Besides, it’s not everyday you see Kim Seungmin out past 10 in the evening, more less at a party.
Seungmin shifts a little from where he’s standing, just enough for Hyunjin’s hand to fall limp by his side. If you knew him less, you would think he was being rude. However, his indifference does a lot in calming his friend down.
He still has a distaste for parties. At least, this way, Hyunjin knows that no force has taken over Seungmin for his sudden appearance.
“Not to be mean, I’m just genuinely curious. How come you’re he—”
“Seungminnie!”
He shifts his attention to the sound.
There’s your voice, finally your voice, loud and clear to the boy, enough to be heard over the music and the voices and the heat.
There’s a sudden understanding that crosses Hyunjin’s features, and he says something on par with how Seungmin would only ever go to anything if it was you who asked.
“Ah, of course you’re here, (name). That must be why he’s here too.” Hyunjin giggles, sending a wink that looks more like a blink to the both of you before he disappears into the crowd.
Whatever he means.
Hyunjin has always had a knack for being cryptic anyway.
There is no proper greeting when Seungmin finds you, only a flick on your forehead.
“What’s wrong with you,” he says, but there is no grit in his voice. “You asked me to come here, and left me waiting for you for thirty minutes.”
“I was late.” You smile sheepishly, taking his hand in yours before dragging him along the pool of people to lead him outside.
He should be used to it now, the ease in which you link your hands together, as if there’s no need for a warning anymore when you’ve known each other for this long. Still, Seungmin finds it unfair. He needs it, needs the warning before you take his heart hand like this.
“You shouldn’t be asleep on a Friday night like a senior citizen.”
This senior citizen came out all the way here for you, he thinks.
“‘M going home now,” is what he chooses to say.
“No!” You suddenly stop in your tracks, just when you’re about to reach the grassy fields of the backdoor of whoever the hell owned this house.
It makes Seungmin stumble over, feet in a hurry to plant themselves on the ground so he doesn’t crash into you. When you turn to face him with a scolding look on your face, the only thing he can think about is how awfully close you are.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to proximities like these with you. “I’m already here, don’t you want to be with me?”
Seungmin sighs because he does, really does, but not in the way you’re asking right now.
“Plus, there’s supposed to be a comet tonight. I think we’ll be able to see it from here.” Your hand latches back on his, pulling him outside where the cold breeze of the night air greets you.
“There’s been a comet every night since last Wednesday.”
“But the city doesn’t quite get a view of it like this.”
By his fate, because he can never say no to you, he watches the comet falling just as you mention it.
Seungmin supposes you’re right. It is a little nicer out here compared to the light pollution of the city, and there’s a good enough distance between where you are and the painfully loud music of the house, and he doesn’t have to deal with anyone but the one person he cares about.
He chooses not to think about the eventual teasing that’s bound to come his way.
He knows Hyunjin’s spreading word around, that Kim Seungmin is actually here, and his friends already know why.
Because you’re here. What other reason does he need?
And Seungmin supposes he can sacrifice a few hours of sleep. Despite begrudgingly coming here, he doesn’t think he’d be able to trade the way you look right now—with your eyes soft and enchanted, and your features highlighted by the soft glow of the moon, and the small, but fond smile playing at your lips.
“It’s so beautiful.”
“It is.” He’s not looking where you are, and you’re too painfully distracted by the falling comet and the thousand stars blanketing the night sky to notice that he’s only ever looked at you tonight.
“Seungmin?”
His breath hitches when you suddenly turn to him, and there is no other coping mechanism he can think of but clearing his throat and looking anywhere but your eyes.
You take the moment where he’s too distracted to wrap your arms around him.
Seungmin freezes at the contact, the nudge in his heart so visible on his face. It’s a shame you have your head buried on his chest to notice the way he suddenly relaxes, hand gingerly resting on the small of your back for a second before wrapping himself entirely around you.
“Why’re you hugging me all of a sudden?” It sounds like he wants to say more, but he remains hesitant. Instead, he pulls you just a little closer.
“Thanks for coming. I know you hate going out to stuff like this, and I really do feel bad for practically forcing you. But, at the same time, I’m just really happy you came too.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing to feel bad about.”
Fuck, the way he says it is so awkward, and he cringes at himself for feeling this nervous around you. He tries to steady his pulse, tries to stop the rapid way in which his heart beats because he knows you can hear it.
“I stole your sleeping hours, of course I feel bad. Plus you hate parties, and yet you came here anyway.” You loosen your grip to look up at him.
You’re ill-prepared to see the tenderness in which his eyes are looking at you right now. He does that sometimes. You’ve never quite figured out why.
“Because you asked me to.” He tells you, really tries to tell you without saying too much. “I’d do anything if it was you who asked me, stupid girl.”
It feels like more of a realization to himself, and he doesn’t really want you to think about what he means. At least not tonight, not in the same night he’s come to find out just the lengths he would go through for you. His lips are parted like he wants to say more, but he decides against it. Still, his very few words will leave you blushing for the next few days after tonight and strike up a few realizations of your own.
Seungmin has known, and he’s known what he was signing up for—when he’d come here, when he’d pick you up, when he’d answer your calls at two in the morning.
He likes you a lot, and no other heart will ever make him act this way.
Not like you do.
So, for now, he’ll keep doing anything if you ask him. He’ll keep showing up until he’s ready to commit to the How To Confess scripture. He’s a simple boy, after all.
A simple boy with a simple heart that beats only for you.
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fyiin7 · 3 days
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You must be haunting me..!
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⋆˚✿˖° In which you're forced to join the ghost hunting at the haunted house with your friends, but then they left you with the lingering ghost.
⋆˚✿˖° Pairings: Ghost!Satoru X Fem! Reader
⋆˚✿˖° SMUT, oral sex (f receiving), missionary, p in v, swearing
It's kinda long, but enjoy ;D
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。
The soft hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes filled the cozy little restaurant as you sat with your friends. It was one of those rare moments when the four of you managed to gather around a table without someone running late or bailing at the last minute. The smell of freshly cooked ramen filled the air, and you were halfway through a steaming bowl when Nobara spoke up, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
"You guys know about that old haunted house, right?" Nobara's voice cut through the conversation like a knife. She leaned forward, elbows on the table, her usual boldness giving way to an almost mischievous grin. "We should totally go check it out tonight."
You paused mid-bite, glancing between Yuji and Megumi, unsure if she'd just suggested what you thought she had. Yuji, ever the thrill-seeker, looked intrigued already. He set down his chopsticks and shot Nobara a grin. "Ghost hunting, huh? I'm in! It sounds like fun."
Megumi, however, wasn’t sold. He raised an eyebrow, the usual calm expression on his face hardening slightly. "That place? You mean the one everyone says is cursed?" He sighed, clearly conflicted. "I don’t know, Nobara. People have gone in and… well, weird things happen."
Nobara waved her hand dismissively. "C'mon, Megumi. Weird things always happen when you look for them. It's just an old house. What’s the worst that could happen?"
You could see the hesitation in Megumi's eyes as he looked at you, like he was silently asking if you were going to back him up on this. But then Yuji nudged him with his elbow. "Don’t be such a buzzkill. It's just one night, and it'll be over before you know it."
Megumi groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine, but if something actually happens, don't say I didn't warn you."
As they turned to you, all eyes locked onto yours, you could feel the weight of the decision pressing in. You weren’t exactly eager to spend your night in a house famous for scaring the living daylights out of anyone who dared enter. But with your friends clearly set on going, it was hard to see a way out of it.
⋆˚✿˖° ⋆˚✿˖° ⋆˚✿˖° ⋆˚✿˖° ⋆˚✿˖° ⋆˚✿˖° ⋆˚✿˖° ⋆˚✿˖°
Whether you like it or not, you'd still need to join anyway. The house stood before you like a shadow of its former self, tall and looming, with broken windows and peeling paint. The air around it seemed unnaturally still, as if the night itself held its breath. The old iron gate creaked in the wind, and the overgrown lawn looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades. A cold chill ran down your spine as you stared at the dark structure.
"Well... here we are," Yuji said, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the slight tremor in his voice.
Nobara grinned, her excitement unshaken. "Perfect. Look at this place! It's just like one of those haunted houses from the movies. We’re definitely getting some good stories out of this."
Megumi sighed, his eyes narrowing at the house as though sizing up an enemy. "This is a terrible idea."
"You already agreed, remember?" Nobara teased, nudging him. "Don’t chicken out now."
You stayed quiet, your gaze locked on the front door that looked like it hadn’t been opened in years. The longer you stood there, the more the oppressive atmosphere of the place seemed to weigh on you. It was as if the house was watching, waiting.
"Alright, let’s do this," Yuji said, breaking the silence as he pushed open the rusty gate, the screeching sound making you wince. He led the way with a flashlight in hand, illuminating the narrow path that led to the entrance.
As the group walked closer to the house, every step seemed heavier than the last. Nobara was practically bouncing with excitement, while Megumi lagged behind, his eyes scanning every shadow, every movement.
You felt your heart hammering in your chest as you approached the front door. There was no turning back now.
The air inside the house was thick with dust and the faint scent of mildew. Each step you took echoed through the empty hallways, but after a while, the fear you felt outside began to fade. The house was silent—too silent—but as time passed, nothing unusual happened.
“This place isn’t so bad,” Yuji said with a forced laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “All those stories must’ve been made up.”
“Right?” Nobara added, glancing around at the cracked walls and sagging ceiling. “A haunted house, my foot. I bet people just freak themselves out.”
Even Megumi, who had been tense the whole time, seemed to relax a little. “Let’s just hurry up and leave. We’ve seen enough.”
You nodded, relieved that the visit might end without anything strange happening. But just as you were about to agree and suggest heading back, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway behind you—footsteps that didn’t belong to any of you.
You froze, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. Yuji, who had been walking a little ahead, turned to face the hallway behind him. “Did… Did you guys hear that?”
Before anyone could answer, the unmistakable sound of footsteps grew louder. Then, at the far end of the hallway, a pair of glowing blue eyes appeared, floating in the darkness. The light from the eyes was dim at first, but as they grew brighter, the air around you felt colder, heavier.
Nobara’s bravado cracked, her voice trembling as she whispered, “What the hell is that?”
Without warning, Yuji let out a panicked yelp and bolted down the hallway. “Nope! I’m out!” His footsteps pounded against the wooden floor as he sprinted ahead.
“Yuji, wait!” Nobara called after him, but the fear in her voice betrayed her own nerves. She and Megumi quickly ran after him, disappearing around a corner.
You stood frozen for a moment, the glowing eyes still fixed on you from the other end of the hall. A cold sweat ran down your back, and you turned to chase after them. But before you could make it to the hallway's end, the door to the room you were in slammed shut with a deafening bang.
You grabbed the handle, twisting it frantically, but it wouldn’t budge. “Guys?” you called out, your voice breaking as you pounded on the door. “Guys, the door’s stuck!”
But all you heard in return was the faint echo of your voice, swallowed by the heavy silence. The glowing eyes vanished, leaving you alone in the dark room, the air around you suddenly colder than before.
Your heart raced as you tugged at the door, desperate to get it open. Panic surged through you, but before you could call out for your friends again, you felt something else—something cold. Icy fingers wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you away from the door.
You gasped, struggling for breath, your heart hammering in your chest. Every muscle in your body tensed, but when you turned around, the sight before you made your breath hitch in an entirely different way.
Standing before you was a man—a ghost, no doubt about it. His skin was impossibly pale, almost glowing under the faint light of the room. His eyes, an eerie yet mesmerizing shade of blue, twinkled with mischief. A sly smile curled on his lips, and though the chill from his touch still lingered on your skin, there was something undeniably handsome about him.
"Whoa there," he said, his voice smooth and playful. "Where do you think you're going, running off like that?"
You blinked, your mind struggling to process what was happening. His arms stayed casually wrapped around your waist, holding you close in a way that felt far too intimate for a ghost.
“Who… who are you?” you stammered, trying to push back, but your movements were weak under his steady gaze.
He tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Name’s Gojo Satoru,” he introduced, his voice laced with confidence. “And you are… definitely not supposed to be here.”
You swallowed hard, trying to pull your thoughts together, but he made it impossible to focus. “W-what do you mean?”
Satoru’s grin widened as he leaned in a little closer, his cold breath brushing against your neck. “I mean, a place like this isn’t meant for someone as cute as you. So what brings you to my humble, haunted abode?”
The way he looked at you—how his gaze roamed over you like he was savoring every second—made you painfully aware of just how touchy he was. Even though his skin was cold, his hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, fingers lingering as though he were still alive and not some phantom.
Your face heated, though you weren’t sure if it was fear or something else. “We—my friends and I—we just came to check out the place.”
Satoru chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Curiosity’s dangerous, you know. Especially around here.” His voice dropped into a teasing tone as his other hand lightly brushed your hair back from your face. “But then again, I can’t say I mind having a little company.”
You were flustered, torn between the chilling realization that you were talking to a ghost and how undeniably charming, even flirty, he was. Every word he said dripped with playful teasing, and his constant touch only made your pulse race faster.
“Are you always this... forward?” you managed to ask, trying to regain some composure.
Satoru smirked, not bothering to hide his amusement. “When I see something I like? Absolutely. Besides…” His hand trailed down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone to talk to. Might as well enjoy the moment, don’t you think?”
His playful, flirtatious demeanor wasn’t helping your already frazzled nerves, but despite yourself, you couldn’t deny the strange pull he had over you. He was a ghost—he shouldn’t feel so real, so present. And yet, here he was, teasing you, touching you like you weren’t separated by life and death.
Satoru's arms stayed firmly wrapped around you, his presence overwhelming in the stillness of the room. His smirk widened as he studied your flustered expression, clearly enjoying your reaction. He leaned in a little closer, his breath cool against your skin.
“You know," he drawled, his voice dripping with playful mischief, "it's pretty naughty of you to be in here alone... with a male ghost, no less."
You blinked, his words sinking in. Alone? Your gaze quickly flickered around the room, only now realizing where you were standing. The creaky old bed in the corner, the tattered curtains, and the musty scent—it wasn’t just any room. It was the bedroom.
Your face burned with embarrassment, and you tried to pull away, but Satoru held you firmly in place, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
"Something wrong?" he teased, eyes sparkling with amusement as he watched your discomfort. "I thought you’d be more adventurous, sneaking around a haunted house at night. Or were you hoping for a different kind of thrill?"
You opened your mouth to protest, but his words caught you off guard. Before you could speak, Satoru tilted his head slightly, his voice softening into a low, seductive whisper. “Tell me, have you ever thought about... experiencing something new?”
You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. “What do you mean?”
The grin on his face deepened, and without answering, Satoru leaned in closer. His hand moved from your back to cup your cheek gently, his icy fingers sending a shiver down your spine. His face hovered just inches from yours, and for a moment, everything seemed to stop. The air felt thick, charged with an intensity you hadn’t expected.
“What I mean,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours ever so slightly, “is something like this.”
Before you could react, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was surprisingly soft, but undeniably electrifying. The coldness of his touch contrasted with the warmth that suddenly bloomed in your chest, and for a second, the world outside that room ceased to exist.
Satoru’s kiss was slow, teasing, as though savoring the moment. He was a ghost, an ethereal being, and yet somehow, he felt so real, his presence so tangible that it made your head spin. You couldn’t tell if it was the fear, the surprise, or something else entirely, but you felt like you were sinking deeper into the strange, thrilling connection that held you both together.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes gleamed with playful mischief. “So… how’s that for something new?”
Before you could even gather your thoughts or catch your breath, Satoru leaned in again, this time with far less patience. His lips crashed against yours in a rougher, more urgent kiss, one that left no room for hesitation. Your breath hitched as his hands tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him, the chill of his touch seeping through your clothes.
The softness from before was gone, replaced by an intensity that sent shockwaves through your body. His kiss was deeper, more demanding, like he was claiming you in that moment, and despite every rational thought screaming at you to push him away, your body betrayed you, rooted in place by the magnetic pull he had over you.
The sensation of his lips, cold yet somehow fiery with passion, made your head spin, your mind blanking out everything except for him. His fingers trailed up your back, sending a rush of goosebumps across your skin as his mouth moved against yours, not giving you a second to process what was happening.
Satoru broke the kiss for a split second, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours as he whispered, “You taste even better than I imagined.” His voice was low, husky, dripping with a teasing tone that made your heart pound even harder.
Before you could respond, before you could even catch your breath, he was on you again, his kiss rougher still, like he couldn’t get enough of you. His hands roamed your body, cold and possessive, as though he was determined to make sure you wouldn’t forget this—wouldn’t forget him.
And with the way your body reacted, you weren’t sure you ever could.
Without warning, Satoru's hands tightened around you, and with a swift, effortless motion, he pushed you backward. You stumbled, barely managing to gasp before your back hit the mattress, sinking into the creaky old bed. The springs groaned beneath your weight, and you stared up at him, your heart racing.
Satoru loomed over you, his pale face framed by the dim light filtering through the cracked window. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of mischief and something darker, more primal. His grin widened, satisfied with how easily he had you at his mercy.
Satoru grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up, revealing your lacy bra. He took a moment to admire the sight, before straddling your waist, his hands gripping both of your wrist together with his hand.
"You're mine now," Satoru growled, his voice thick with lust. "I'll take what I want from you." He pressed a kiss to your neck, nipping at your skin, before trailing his lips down to your collarbone, making your breath hitched and let out a small whimper. "And tonight, I want to fill you up with every drop I have."
Satoru's hands roamed your body, unfastening the clasp of your bra, letting it fall to the side. He leaned in, taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at it, before switching to the other one. His hips rocked against you, grinding against you through your shorts. You feel your panties sticking to your pussy because of how wet you are.
"Soon, my sweet," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "Soon you'll be begging for more." You couldn’t help but rock your hips back to his harden cock, needing to release the desire pooling between your thighs.
Satoru chuckled darkly, feeling your body respond to him. "You're such a tease," he said, his voice laced with desire. He pressed his body further down on yours. "But I like it," he admitted, his mouth finding yours in a deep, hungry kiss.
Breaking away, Satoru trailed his lips down your body, his hands exploring your curves, making your body shivered slightly with his cold lips. For some reason, it makes your desire for him heightened. He pull your shorts down before hooking his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your legs, tossing them aside. He could see the wetness, smell the scent of arousal, and it drove him wild.
"You're so ready for me," he said, his voice low and husky. He spread your legs wider, positioning himself between them. "But first," he said, his eyes locked on your wet pussy, "I need a taste."
"W-wa- ngh..!" before you could protest, he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to lick your folds, tasting the sweetness. Satoru groaned, his cock throbbing at the sweet taste of you. He began to lick and suck, his tongue exploring every inch of you, driving your mind to a haze, your back arching slightly at the feeling of the wet muscle exploring your cunt. Your hand instantly went down to tugged on his hair, his tongue is cold too, and it provides you a different sensation.
Satoru grinned, feeling your hand in his hair. "You like that, don't you?" He asked, his voice muffled by your body. He continued to pleasure you, his tongue teasing your clit, flicking it before he sucked it into his mouth. He could feel your body tremble beneath him, the sounds of your moans and whimpers fueling his lust.
"S-satoru..I-I can't..!" you moaned, your clit too sensitive at every single flick of his tongue.
"It's okay, baby. Cum for me," he growled, his grip on your hips tightening. "Let me taste it." He continued to work your body, his fingers joining in, slipping inside your wetness. He knew the perfect rhythm to push you over the edge, and he was determined to succeed.
Satoru's own arousal was nearly unbearable, but he wouldn't let himself climax until you did. He wanted to feel your body quiver against his mouth, your release coating his tongue.
You feel the coil in your belly tighten and he knew you were close by the way your walls tighten around his fingers. You bucked your hips against his mouth, seeking for more pleasure. "F-fuck..faster please..!" you begged.
He smirked as he obliged, speeding up his ministrations, sucking harder on your clit, his fingers pumping inside your pussy. "You want it faster, huh?" He teased, his voice thick with lust. "You'll get it."
He could feel the tension building, your body trembling as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. He didn't want to stop, didn't want to miss the moment you came undone. "That's it, darling," he encouraged, his voice low and encouraging. "Let it go, let me feel it."
Satoru increased the pressure, his tongue flicking over your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out, hitting your sweet spot. "N-ngh! Satoru..I-I'm gonna...g-gonna cum-!"
It was only a matter of moments before he felt your body shudder, walls clenching around his fingers as you came. He lapped up your juices, savoring the taste, before pulling away.
"Good girl," he praised, smirking as he wiped his mouth. "Now it's my turn." He pull down his pant enough to reveal his cock, long and girthy as he positioned himself at your entrance, throbbing with need.
Satoru pushed his cock into you slowly, groaning as his length fills you up and how tight your pussy is. You bit your lower lip, holding in your moans. "Y-you're so big Satoru.." you said softly.
Satoru smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "You'll get used to it," he promised, before he began to move. Slow, deep thrusts, letting you get accustomed to him. He could feel your body adjusting, tightening around him, and it made him even more aroused.
He leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep, searing kiss, his hips rolling, grinding against you, your moans muffled with the kiss. "God, you feel so good," he whispered against your mouth. His hand reached up to cup your breast, squeezing it gently, before moving down to stroke your clit. Your body quiver, your nub still sensitive.
"Let me hear you, sweet," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Let me hear how much you love this." He began to thrust harder, faster, his cock sliding in and out of her, the sound of bodies slapping together filling the room.
"H-hah! F-feel so good..!" you moaned, eyes rolling back to the back of your skull at each of his thrust against your G-spot. Satoru's grip on your breast tightened, his other hand holding your hip, keeping you pinned. "Cum for me, my sweet," he demanded, his voice thick with lust. "Cum while I'm inside you."
Satoru groaned, his own pleasure building. He was close, so very close. "That's it," he praised, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his body losing control. "You're so tight, you're going to make me lose it."
His thrusts became more desperate, more frantic, his grip on your body tightening. He could feel the tip of his cock swelling, the need to release building. "Come for me," he growled, the last of his restraint slipping
"C-cumming!" you screamed. Satoru could feel your body tensing again, and it was enough to push him over the edge. With a deep growl, Satoru let go, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his seed. "Fuck," he swore, his body trembling as the wave of pleasure crashed over him.
He collapsed onto your body, his breathing heavy, his cock still buried deep inside you. "God, that was good," he murmured, his voice hoarse. He stayed there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being connected to you, before pulling out and rolling off you.
"That was...something.." you spoke, still trying to process what had happened. Satoru chuckles softly, his finger caressing your cheeks with a smile. "Sleep my darling, I'll clean you up."
For some reason, his voice makes you sleepy, like he's lulling you to sleep. So you decided to trust him and closed your eyes. It doesn't take too long until you finally fell asleep by his side. By the side of a ghost.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。
You blinked against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, slowly becoming aware of your surroundings. The warmth of the blankets cocooned you, and for a moment, you felt safe and content. But as your eyes adjusted, the reality of where you were began to seep back in.
You turned your head to the side and froze. Yuji and Megumi were sitting on the edge of the bed, concern etched across their faces. Nobara stood nearby, her arms crossed, looking equally worried.
“Thank goodness you’re awake!” Yuji exclaimed, relief flooding his voice. “We were so worried!”
“What happened?” you croaked, the memories of the night flooding back in a chaotic rush. The haunted house, Satoru...
“We found you unconscious in that bedroom,” Megumi explained, his expression a mix of guilt and concern. “We thought you’d just gotten scared or something, but you wouldn’t wake up.”
Nobara stepped forward, her brows furrowing in apology. “I’m so sorry for leaving you alone! We should have stayed with you.”
You shook your head, still trying to piece together what had happened. “I was fine. I… I was just resting.”
“Resting?” Yuji raised an eyebrow, his tone skeptical. “You were out cold! What really happened?”
You hesitated, the memories of how you just had sex with the ghost in the house still vivid in your mind. “It’s... complicated,” you finally said, your heart racing at the thought of how to explain.
Megumi's gaze softened. “We just want to make sure you’re okay. We thought maybe something... strange happened to you in that house.”
You glanced at them, their concern genuine, and felt a wave of gratitude mixed with confusion. “I’m fine now,” you assured them, though the lingering feelings from the night before were hard to shake. “Really. Just a little... overwhelmed.”
Yuji grinned, though his relief was clear. “Well, let’s get you something to eat. You need to regain your strength after scaring us like that!”
As they helped you sit up, the warmth of their friendship surrounded you, but the memories of what had happened in that haunted house lingered at the back of your mind, leaving you wondering about the strange encounter that felt so surreal. You hope..that it's actually a real encounter.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。
307 notes · View notes
jarofstyles · 3 hours
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Appetency
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Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕
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Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.
WC- 8.5k
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“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.
Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 
Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"
“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”
"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 
His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."
“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 
“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”
Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 
“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.
“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 
Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 
Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.
"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"
The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 
Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 
Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 
He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 
It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.
Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.
"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.
“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “
The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.
He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."
“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.
Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"
His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.
“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 
Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 
Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.
"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 
He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.
"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."
“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 
She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.
Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.
“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”
Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."
“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.
Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 
That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 
He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”
"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 
She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"
Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”
“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”
Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 
"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.
The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.
Aka, spending time with her. 
“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”
The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."
Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 
He’d learn eventually.
“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”
Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."
Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 
“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 
The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.
Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.
Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 
"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.
Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 
“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”
Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.
“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”
"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."
Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 
Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 
"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."
——-
Y/N was suspicious. 
Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.
Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 
“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”
"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 
He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.
“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”
Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.
“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 
Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.
Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 
Good thing he was willing to work for this. 
"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."
Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.
He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 
"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”
Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 
Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.
Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”
Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 
The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 
She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.
Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 
He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 
Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”
Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 
"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 
With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.
“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.
Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 
"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."
“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”
Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 
He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."
Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 
"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."
It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 
Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 
It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 
It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 
“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”
Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 
He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.
The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.
"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."
She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 
“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”
Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 
He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."
“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”
Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 
“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.
“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”
Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.
He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 
He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”
“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.
Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."
Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.
“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”
Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”
He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”
——-
—— 
Harry was coming over again. 
It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 
One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 
That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.
His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 
She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 
He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.
Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 
He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 
“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.
Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”
Like clockwork.
Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..
When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 
“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.
Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.
Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..
“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 
Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 
Or that she didn’t have those same urges.
Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.
“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 
Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”
Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 
Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.
Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 
“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.
Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 
"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"
“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 
Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.
"Can I stay over tonight?"
It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 
“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.
Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.
He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"
He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 
“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”
Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"
“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 
It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 
“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”
Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 
He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."
“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.
"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 
Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”
Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.
"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.
“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”
177 notes · View notes
jihyoruri · 3 days
Text
❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 QUEEN OF DISASTER kang haerin x reader
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↳ warnings yn is a nmixx member , haerin is insanely infatuated with yn, swearing, fluff, crazy dorm activities
haerin didn’t have many idol friends outside of her own group. she kept to herself most of the time, and honestly, she was fine with that. there was comfort in her peace she didn’t need it to be disrupted.
that was, until kyujin bounced into her life. the girl was a burst of energy, determined to befriend every 2006 liner in the industry, including haerin.
and, as much as haerin hated to admit it, kyujin was hard to resist. her infectious laughter, relentless enthusiasm, and her skill of making haerin feel comfortable chipped away at her guarded walls.
but that didn’t stop haerin from being a bit hesitant when the girl invited her to her dorms.
“I don’t know…” haerin murmured, her gaze dropping to the floor as kyujin groaned in protest. the idea of visiting another group’s dorm felt… odd. it wouldn’t just be kyujin it would be her and six other members, people haerin barely knew.
“come on!” kyujin whined, leaning dramatically against haerin’s arm. “my members are so welcoming. they’re really peaceful,” she added, the blatant lie making haerin raise an eyebrow.
“peaceful?” haerin shot her a knowing look, one that said, you can’t be serious.
“okay okay,” kyujin looked down reluctantly, “okay, fine. maybe not all of them,” she confessed, “but at least yoona unnie is. she’s super chill! you’ll feel comfortable with her, i promise.”
haerin nodded slightly, her mind flicking to sullyoon, who seemed just as quiet and reserved as she was probably the one member she might actually connect with. but something felt off. one name was conspicuously missing from kyujin’s reassurances..
yn.
everyone knew yn.
she was the industry’s darling, a sweetheart with doe eyes and a smile that could light up a room. her voice was soft, soothing even, the kind of voice that made fans melt and left the whole country captivated. she was gentle, exactly the type of person who would put haerin at ease.
she was peaceful with the softest voice to exist, just watching videos of her talking could put people at peace.
so why didn’t kyujin mention her?
haerin let out sigh, looking away from her friends puppy dog eyes, “fine…”
kyujin’s shriek of excitement nearly made her regret it. haerin scrunched her nose playfully, rolling her eyes as kyujin threw her arms around her in a tight hug, already chattering excitedly about the visit. but haerin’s thoughts were elsewhere.
she stayed quiet while kyujin rambled about how excited she was, her mind wandering to the girls beloved member.
she doesn’t know why, kyujin not bringing yn up occupied her mind so much.
I guess you can say the beloved member of nmixx intrigued her.
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“get the hell off of me!”
haerin stood wide eyed next to kyujin, frozen in place in front of the now-closed door to her friend’s dorm
she watched in disbelief as yn shoved bae off the couch, sending the girl tumbling onto the floor.
“now now, yn that’s not even nice.” the older girl groaned from the ground, flashing the pretty girl a teasing look.
“fuck off.”
the funny thing was, this wasn’t even the most chaotic thing happening in kyujin’s “lovely” home.
haewon was belting out a very loud tune in the kitchen while yoona tried her best to help clean up the mess. lily and jiwoo were in the living room, locked in a fierce round of just dance, screaming at each other to “dance harder!”
and yet, despite the madness swirling around her, haerin’s eyes couldn’t leave the industry’s so called sweetheart, who seemed to have quite the temper on her.
“you know you love me,” bae teased, trying to get up from the ground, only to be pushed right back down by yn.
“no, i hate you,” yn snapped, glaring down at her, though her wide, doe like eyes made her look more like a pouting kitten than anything intimidating.
kyujin glanced nervously at haerin, who stared at the chaos before her. “it’s not always like this,” she lied, trying to save face.
haerin shot her a look that screamed, yeah, right.
“i know…” kyujin sighed. “i told them to be on their best behavior. sorry.”
but haerin barely acknowledged her friend’s apology, too transfixed by yn’s little tantrum. the girl had settled back on the couch now, a perfect smile on her face, while bae remained sprawled on the floor, knowing that any attempt to stand would likely result in another push
“so it’s all for show?” haerin whispered, her eyes still glued to yn..
“huh?” kyujin furrowed her brow.
haerin tilted her head toward yn, and kyujin burst into laughter. “no! yn unnie is a complete sweetheart. what you see is what you get, she’s just… well, a bit short-tempered.”
as if yn could sense they were talking about her, she glanced up, her wide eyes locking onto haerin and kyujin. suddenly, her expression softened, and she shot up from the couch.
“oh my, kyujin, why didn’t you say you were back!” yn exclaimed, crossing the room in quick strides. 
“that’s no way to welcome guests!” she turned her attention to haerin, who immediately felt her cheeks grow warm as yn got closer. “how are you? was the drive okay?” yn’s voice was gentle, her words pouring over haerin like a warm breeze. “it’s a bit loud in here, i know, but it gets better, i promise.”
“uh…” haerin tried to respond, but yn cut her off with a quick pat on the head.
“i’ll go tell haewon unnie you’re here. make yourself comfortable, haerin,” yn said, shooting her a playful wink before disappearing into the kitchen.
haerin’s face was burning now, completely caught off guard by yn’s sudden warmth.while kyujin looked at her, “told you, she’s a complete sweetheart, an angry one but sweet nevertheless.”
“uh huh…” haerin barely managed to nod, still completely dazed by yn’s charm.
she had never felt this way before, but one thing was clear she was definitely coming to the nmixx dorms a lot more often.
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haerin wasn’t sure how it happened, but visiting the nmixx dorm had quickly become part of her routine.
at first, it was all about hanging out with kyujin and adjusting to the group’s chaos. but somewhere along the way, her visits shifted focus.
instead of looking forward to catching up with kyujin, she found herself eagerly waiting for the moments when yn would be there quietly watching her from across the room, her eyes following every movement, every smile.
soon enough, her casual drop ins had turned into regular visits. she no longer needed kyujin’s invite. the group had welcomed her, and though kyujin was oblivious, haerin was only showing up for one person.
yn.
there was something about yn her soft demeanor on the surface, contrasted with her fiery personality just beneath. one second she was all sunshine and sweet smiles, and the next, she’d be fiercely ranting about whatever bothered her that day.
haerin found it captivating, the duality of her, the rawness that not many got to see. and somehow, haerin had gotten used to those passionate rants, sitting on the edge of yn’s bed as the girl vented her frustrations about anything and everything.
today was no different.
“i mean, can you believe it?” yn practically shouted, pacing back and forth in her room. her hands were animated, cutting through the air as she spoke. “i’m out here trying my best, and they have the audacity to say that about me?”
haerin sat on yn’s bed, quietly watching her. there was a small smile playing at the corner of her lips, she found yn’s fiery passion endearing.
yn's temper was always sparked by the smallest of things, someone’s comment online, a misunderstanding, or the fact that she lost in a game to lily the night before. today, it seemed like it was something she had read online, and yn was spiraling into one of her long, impassioned rants.
“they don’t know a damn thing! who do they think they are? it’s just—ugh! so annoying.” yn threw her hands up in frustration, pacing closer to haerin, her voice laced with indignation.
“and the worst part?” yn paused, finally looking at haerin, her face flushed with emotion. “i shouldn’t even care! but i do, haerin, i do.”
yn let out a frustrated sigh, dropping onto the bed next to her. their shoulders brushed, and yn turned to face her, her eyes burning with a mix of anger and vulnerability. haerin couldn’t help but be drawn in by that intensity, her heart picking up speed as yn ranted on.
before she could stop herself, haerin reached out, her hand gently resting on yn’s arm. “it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “you care because you’re passionate about what you do.”
yn looked at her, the fire in her eyes slowly dimming, replaced with something softer something that made haerin’s breath catch. for a moment, the room fell silent, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.
then, before she could second-guess it, haerin closed the gap between them, pressing her lips softly against yn’s. it was tentative at first, a quiet exploration, but when yn didn’t pull away—when she kissed back just as eagerly, the kiss deepened. haerin’s hand slid up to cup yn’s cheek, her heart racing as yn responded with equal fervor, her fingers threading through haerin’s hair.
the moment was electric, full of everything haerin had been holding back for weeks. the fiery passion yn poured into her rants was now flowing through their kiss, both of them caught up in the intensity of the moment.
but just as quickly as it had started, the door to yn’s room swung open with a loud creak, and a voice rang out.
“unnie, have you seen—” kyujin’s words died in her throat as her eyes fell on the scene in front of her. her mouth dropped open in shock.
haerin and yn instantly pulled apart, wide-eyed and breathless, as kyujin stood frozen in the doorway, her face a mixture of confusion and surprise. the room was dead silent, save for the sound of kyujin’s sharp inhale.
“oh my god!” kyujin finally screamed, her voice echoing through the dorm. her hands flew up to cover her mouth, her eyes still as wide as saucers. “what is happening?!”
without waiting for a response, kyujin let out another yelp and slammed the door shut with a loud bang, leaving haerin and yn alone once again, their hearts pounding in their chests.
for a few moments, neither of them moved, the tension hanging thick in the air. then yn burst into laughter, her giggles light and infectious, her face still flushed from their kiss.
“well, that’s one way to get caught,” yn said between fits of laughter, her eyes sparkling as she turned to face haerin again. “she’s never gonna let you live this down.”
haerin, still slightly dazed, let out a small, embarrassed laugh, her cheeks burning. “yeah… i wasn’t expecting that.”
yn smiled at her, the warmth returning to her expression. “i wasn’t expecting this,” she said softly, her voice taking on a gentler tone. she leaned in, brushing a stray piece of hair away from haerin’s face. “but i’m glad it happened.”
haerin felt her heart flutter at yn’s words, her breath catching in her throat. she hadn’t realized just how badly she had wanted this how much she had wanted yn.
“so,” yn whispered, her lips ghosting over haerin’s once more, “are you gonna come over just to see me from now on?”
haerin grinned, her lips curving up into a smile as she leaned in closer. “ and kyujin, but mainly you.”
before the girls lips could touch once again kyujin’s muffled voice was heard from behind the door, “I’m coming in again! and I better not see any kissing!”
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a-lexia11 · 9 hours
Text
Age of love (part 2)
Alexia Putellas x reader
Word count:Around 2k
Warning:none, just fluff.
Part 1
Based on this request.
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You’ve been dating Alexia for a year now, and while your relationship is thriving, the public reaction hasn’t always been smooth sailing.
Initially, the 10-year age gap between you sparked intense debate. Some fans struggled to understand how the two of you could be together, while others were outright critical.
It was tough to navigate that scrutiny, but over time, more people began to see what you both already knew—that you complement each other perfectly.
Now, you’re recognized as more than just “Alexia’s younger girlfriend.” Fans respect you for who you are beyond the relationship.
Balancing college, a part-time job at the cafe, and your commitment to being at Alexia’s games whenever possible has earned you admiration. The fans genuinely appreciate that about you.
At one match, you overheard a fan say, “Y/N’s got it all together. She’s smart, she works hard, and she’s always there for Alexia. We love a queen for our Reina” Hearing that made you beam with pride; it felt good to know that people appreciated you.
During halftime of Alexia’s matches, social media is abuzz with tweets and comments about you. You’ve been spotted studying during games more than once, and fans have embraced that with enthusiasm.
“Can’t believe Y/N is literally studying at halftime,” one fan tweeted. “She’s an icon, honestly.”
Another post went viral, featuring a candid shot of you in the stands with your laptop open on your knees and textbooks spread around you. The caption read, “The REAL MVP,” followed by a queen emoji. It was a moment that captured your dedication, both to your studies and to supporting Alexia.
As you scrolled through your phone, reading these comments and posts, your heart swells with pride. It’s uplifting to see that people appreciate you not just as Alexia’s girlfriend, but for your own hard work, determination, and the unique path you’re forging.
Each supportive message reinforces your belief in yourself and the relationship, making all the challenges worthwhile.
——
Being at Alexia’s games has always been enjoyable, but recently, there’s been an unexpected twist—people have started asking you for pictures. At first, it completely caught you off guard.
During one of Alexia’s matches, a young fan nervously approached you at halftime. “Disculpa” the girl stammered, glancing up at you with wide eyes, “¿eres Y/N?” (Excuse me, are you Y/N?)
You blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback. “Uh, sí. Soy yo.” (Uh, yeah. That’s me)
The girl’s face lit up. “¿Puedo... puedo tomarme una foto contigo?” (Can I... can I get a picture with you?)
You felt a rush of warmth and smiled, even though the request still felt surreal. “¡Por supuesto! Me encantaría.” (Of course! I’d love to.)
As she fumbled with her phone, trying to get the camera to work, you couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. You were used to standing by Alexia’s side, not being the one in the spotlight. “Aquí, déjame ayudarte con eso.” you offered, gently adjusting the phone. (Here, let me help you with that)
Once the picture was taken, the girl beamed. “¡Muchas gracias! ¡Eres increíble!” (Thank you so much! You’re amazing!)
You felt humbled by her excitement, waving goodbye as she rushed back to her friends.
Later, when you told Alexia about it, she burst into laughter.
“¡Mira a ti, cariño! ¡Ya eres famosa! Muy pronto te estarán pidiendo un autógrafo” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. (Look at you, baby! Famous already! Pretty soon, they’re gonna be asking for your autograph)
You rolled your eyes, grinning back at her. “Yeah, right. They’re here for you, superstar.”
Alexia wrapped her arm around you, pulling you closer. “Maybe, but they love you too! “¿Cómo se siente ser parte del ‘club de novias famosas’?” she asked with a playful smirk. (How does it feel to be part of the ‘famous girlfriend club’?)
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Honestly? It’s still weird. I didn’t sign up for this!”
“Oh, come on! You’re a natural,” she said, nudging you playfully. “Just wait until you start getting fan mail. ‘Y/N, will you marry me?’”
You laughed, shaking your head again. “Not happening! They’ll always love you more.”
“Maybe,” Alexia said, leaning in closer, “but they appreciate you for who you are too.And it’s only a matter of time before you’re getting recognized at the grocery store. ‘¿Es Y/N? ¿La que estudia durante los partidos?’ (Is that Y/N? The one who studies during matches?)
You burst out laughing, feeling a mix of pride and disbelief. “Yeah, and I’ll be like, ‘Please, no photos while I’m buying groceries!’”
Alexia laughed along with you, wrapping you in a side hug. “Simplemente acéptalo, mi amor. ¡Ahora eres famosa!” (Just embrace it, my love. You’re famous now!)
——
Your social media following has grown since you started dating Alexia, largely because fans have loved the glimpses into your relationship. Nothing has sparked more conversation than the TikToks you've convinced Alexia to make with you.
One afternoon, you lounged on the couch scrolling through TikTok when you stumbled upon a new couple’s challenge.
Excitedly, you turned to Alexia, who was next to you, absorbed in her own phone. “Alexia, we absolutely have to try this one!” you exclaimed, your eyes shining with enthusiasm as you showed her the video.
She glanced at the screen, her expression falling. “No way. Absolutamente no. Ni siquiera entiendo cómo funcionan estas cosas.” she replied, half-joking, half-serious. (Absolutely not. I don’t even get how these things work)
You leaned closer, knowing she had a soft spot for you. “Please? It’ll be fun! I promise it’s easy.”
Alexia raised an eyebrow, skepticism clear on her face. “Siempre dices que es fácil, y luego yo termino viéndome ridícula.” she countered, crossing her arms. (You always say it’s easy, and then I end up looking ridiculous)
You pouted playfully, knowing it usually worked on her. “You’ve never looked ridiculous! You look adorable,” you whispered, leaning in for a quick kiss.
She sighed dramatically, a small smile escaping despite herself. “Fine. But if it’s no good, it’s your fault.”
You laughed, pulling her off the couch. “Deal! Let’s do this!”
Alexia pulled out her Samsung, the same one she had been using since the Olympic Games, and you felt a wave of disgust wash over you.
“What are you doing?” you asked, scrunching your nose as you looked at the phone, its sleek design somehow still managing to irk you.
“To film?” she replied innocently, a mischievous glint in her eye, fully aware of your aversion to that phone.
“Absolutely not! Get this thing out of my face!” you exclaimed, your voice rising as you reached out to snatch the phone from her hand.
You tossed it onto the sofa with a dramatic flair, feeling a little triumphant as she huffed in response.
“no es tan malo” Alexia argued, trying to defend her beloved device. But you just shook your head, unable to contain your disdain. (it’s not that bad!)
“It’s so… I don’t know, just not you!” you insisted, crossing your arms and pouting slightly. “You’re La Reina; you shouldn’t be using that!”
She laughed, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her amusement. “¿De verdad lo odias tanto?” (You really hate it that much?)
“Yes! It’s like, why not use something cooler?” you retorted, your expression earnest as you gestured dramatically toward her phone.
“¡Está bien, está bien! Conseguiré uno nuevo, lo prometo.” she chuckled, giving in to your playful disgust. (Okay, okay! I’ll get a new one, I promise)
“Good but no more Samsungs!” you warned her.
You pulled out your phone, your beautiful phone which is not a Samsung and set it up on a tripod, you started the music and began explaining the steps.
Alexia stood next to you, looking stiff and clearly out of her element. You could see her glancing around, visibly nervous. “¿Qué pasa si me caigo?”she asked, biting her lip. (What if I trip?)
“You won’t! Just follow my lead,” you assured her, trying to stifle your laughter. “Okay, now move your arms like this.” You demonstrated a simple move, your arms flowing gracefully.
Alexia watched intently, her brows furrowed in concentration. When she tried to copy you, her arms flailed awkwardly, and you burst into laughter.
“What are you doing?” you giggled between breaths.
“I don’t know!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. “"Me veo ridícula.” (I look ridiculous!)
You reached out to reassure her. “You don’t! You’re just... unique! Here, try it again. Just feel the music.”
“¿Sentir la música?” she echoed, looking even more confused. “What does that mean?” (Feel the music?)
“Just go with the flow! Like this!” You swayed your hips, demonstrating with exaggerated flair.
Alexia tried to mimic you, but she ended up swaying stiffly, her shoulders hunched. “¿Así es como se supone que debe verse?”she asked, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. (Is this how it’s supposed to look?)
“Not quite, but it’s getting there!” you said, stifling another laugh. “Okay, that was better! But maybe try to be a little looser?”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “I feel like una idiota”
You pulled her in for a quick hug. “You’re my adorable idiota! Now, let’s do it again!”
After several more attempts, Alexia finally managed to get through the challenge, though her movements remained stiff and a little awkward. You couldn’t help but smile at how cute she looked trying so hard.
Once you posted the video, the comments started rolling in within hours.
“Alexia is so awkward, I love it,” one fan commented.
“She’s trying so hard, bless her,” another added.
“She’s so awkwardly hot”, another said.
You glanced over at Alexia, who was shaking her head and laughing. “They’re too nice. I’m terrible” she admitted, still slightly embarrassed.
“They love it!” you reassured her, snuggling into her side. “And so do I. You’re giving them something real to enjoy.”
“Really?” she asked, a teasing glint in her eye.
“Absolutely! Especially when you’re moving around like a baby giraffe,” you replied with a laugh, nudging her playfully.
Alexia chuckled, finally relaxing. “Okay, maybe this was not bad. ¡Solo no me hagas hacerlo de nuevo pronto!” (Just don’t make me do it again anytime soon!)
“Deal!” you grinned knowing that you’ll definitely will make her do it again.
——
One night, after an exhilarating victory, the team invited you out to celebrate. They had come to cherish you almost as much as the fans did, and you were always included in their post-game festivities.
That night, the atmosphere was electric, filled with laughter and excitement, and you found yourself swept up in the joy of the evening.
The music thumped in the background, drinks flowed, and you felt lighter than you had in weeks. Alexia stood beside you, her laughter ringing out as she chatted animatedly with her teammates, her arm casually wrapped around your waist.
“Can you believe we won?” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.
“Absolutely! You were amazing out there!” you replied, nudging her playfully.
As the night went on, the music shifted to something upbeat, and the energy in the room changed. People started dancing, letting loose, and you felt a bold urge bubbling up inside you.
Fueled by a few too many drinks, you suddenly had an idea. Climbing onto a chair, you grinned down at Alexia and the team. “Watch this!” you shouted, your voice barely cutting through the music.
Alexia raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and concern on her face. “Y/N, ¿Qué estás haciendo?” she asked, a laugh escaping her lips.(what are you doing?)
“Just having fun!” you replied, adrenaline coursing through you as you pulled off your shirt and spun it around your head screaming at the top of your lungs “Vamos chicas”
The team erupted in cheers, their voices blending into a cacophony of encouragement. Soon, others joined in, twirling their own shirts in the air.
“¡Vamos, Y/N! ¡Muéstranos lo que tienes!” Cata yelled, laughter ringing out. (Go, Y/N! Show us what you’ve got!”)
“Is this how we celebrate a win?” Alexia shook her head but couldn’t suppress her smile. “¡Vas a arrepentirte de esto por la mañana!” (You’re going to regret this in the morning!)
“Nunca!” you shouted back, fully embracing the moment, feeling like the star of the show. (Never!)
The next morning, you woke up with a headache and a sinking feeling. Groggily, you grabbed your phone and discovered that someone had recorded the entire incident.
It had already gone viral. “Y/N is a whole vibe!” the caption read, and the woso community was eating it up, sharing the video across social media.
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh my god, I’m never going to live this down, am I?”
Alexia walked in, a sly smile on her face as she saw your reaction and lied down next to you. “Asumo por tu reacción que has visto el video.”she said, laughing. “But you know what? I think it’s iconic.” (You saw the video I assume by your reaction)
“Iconic? More like embarrassing!” you grumbled, but a smile started to break through.
“Embrace it!” she nudged you playfully. “It was very funny and people like it!”
“I just hope my mom doesn’t see this,” you joked, shaking your head.
“¡Demasiado tarde! ¡Ya se lo he enviado!”Alexia teased, winking at you. (Too late! I’ve already sent it to her!)
“Noooo! You’re the worst!” You both burst into laughter, the earlier embarrassment fading as you enjoyed the moment together.
——
A few weeks later, you sat in your usual spot at one of Alexia’s matches, watching her dominate the field as always. The game was intense, and your heart raced as the clock ticked down.
In the final moments, Alexia broke free, charging toward the goal with laser focus on the ball. You held your breath, eyes glued to her as she struck the ball cleanly, sending it soaring into the back of the net.
The stadium erupted in cheers, and you jumped to your feet, screaming her name. “Alexia!”
But what happened next completely took you by surprise. Instead of her usual celebration, Alexia turned to the crowd, a huge grin on her face.
With a mischievous glint in her eye, she pulled off her jersey and spun it around her head screaming at the top of her lungs “Vamos chicas!”, imitating the move you had pulled at the party weeks before.
The crowd went absolutely wild, and Alexia received a yellow card for taking off her shirt. She just shrugged it off, clearly not caring at all.
You stood there, mouth agape, shaking your head in disbelief. “Did she really just—?”
Fans around you lost it, chanting her name and cheering. “This is amazing!” one fan yelled, while another shouted, “Alexia, you’re the best!”
Social media exploded almost immediately, with fans praising her bold new celebration. “Alexia spinning her shirt like Y/N? This is the content we live for!” one tweet said, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the comments.
Later, after the game, you waited for Alexia in the tunnel, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised as she approached, still buzzing from the excitement. “Really?” you asked, trying to keep a straight face.
Alexia beamed, a playful sparkle in her eyes. “What? You started it! I had to do something fun!”
“I can’t believe you actually did that,” you laughed, shaking your head in disbelief.
She stepped closer, leaning down to give you a soft kiss. “Fue un homenaje. Para mi reina.”she whispered, her tone teasing but sincere. (It was a tribute. For my queen)
You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth in your chest. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
Alexia laughed, pulling you into a tight hug. “Solo para ti. ¡Ahora todos recordarán nuestra celebración!” (Only for you. Now everyone will remember our celebration!)
You looked up at her and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. “La próxima vez, haré una voltereta. A ver cómo logras ese tributo.” you murmured against her lips, causing Alexia to laugh. (Next time, I’ll do a backflip.Let’s see how you’ll manage that tribute)
You both walked out together, the excitement of the match still buzzing around you, feeling grateful for moments like these.
FIN
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quitesins · 3 days
Text
Deku’s Type!
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Masterlist
Tags: 18+, Sfw-ish, short drabble, fem!reader, aged up! characters, teacher! Deku, kinda vulgar and fucky, im gonna tag misogyny, reader is implied to be “fucked in the head” whatever you want that to mean ^0^!
The boys gather round for drinks and discuss the type of women Deku seems to be fond of, much to his dismay…
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“Sounds like Deku’s type,” Katsuki says, smirk in his voice.
Izuku frowns. “I do not have a type.”
Now that makes the table still for a second, not long enough for Izuku to predict the thoughts of his friends, but enough for the rest of the guys to come to the same conclusion.
Katsuki, Denki and Sero are the first to burst out in laughter. Katsuki’s cackle the loudest of them all.
“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Katsuki laughs so hard he doesn’t even care that Denki is half laid over him, “You don’t see that shit?”
“Come on…” Denki says, still slapping Katsuki’s thigh as he laughs, “you have such a type!”
Izuku frowns, sterner, deciding to ignore the immature three and turning to his other friends for support. Both Iida and Shouto look away, their expressions telling.
“I do not have a type,” Izuku reiterates, firmly.
Katsuki shakes his head, finally shoving Denki off him. “All those girls you’ve dated? Exact fuckin’ same.”
Even Tokoyami turns his head, eyes never leaving his drink but a twinkle of unfamiliar mirth evident within them.
“What does that even mean?!” Izuku exasperates, looking around for a single ally.
“It means,” Mineta chimes in, and although Izuku enjoys his company, he already knows he’s about to hear something deplorable, “you like them sick in the head!”
Shouto can’t hold in his sputter, finally contributing to the conversation— with a laugh. The rest of the table is hooting, a few groans at the wording but nothing at the sentiment. All while Izuku looks absolutely scandalised, clutching his chest, eyes wide open.
“That’s horrible!” Izuku cries, so stunned he can’t even trail off into one of his signature rambles in defence, “that’s- that’s. What?!”
“All the girls you’ve liked man…” Sero starts, “they’re not exactly little miss sunshines are they.” He stops, which Izuku almost takes reprieve in until he continues, “you seem to like them a little off putting.”
“Yeah so he can fucking fix them,” Katsuki snorts.
“It’s your saviour complex,” Denki adds, chin tilted up, trying to look profound.
Izuku is quick to interject, waving his hands around. “You’re the pro heroes.” The poor boy tries his best to convince. “We all have saviour complexes!”
“Not like you do, mon chéri,” Aoyama tuts, then winks before saying, “Hero of Japan.”
“Izuku, They do still call you an honorary pro.” Shouto is trying to be nice, Izuku thinks. “And I’m sure your students think the same.”
Izuku grimaces, he knows he’s always had a complex that encompassed so much more than just his dreams to be a hero, but he doesn’t need it sullied by… that.
“Don’t ruminate.” Katsuki presses a drink into Izuku’s hands. “You like women a little fucked up, so what.”
Katsuki’s words do nothing to comfort Izuku, instead it has Denki and Mineta laughing all over again while Kirishima attempts to calm them down. Iida scolds Katsuki a little, doing a half bow in apology to the passing waiter clearly peeved by all the noise. Deku pays no attention, beginning to spiral in his head.
It feels wrong to view you that way. To view the women he’s loved that way. But he’s not an idiot, maybe a little blind at times but now that the proof is there— oh god—
“Listen, Midoriya, I am sure there are many reasons you have loved the women you have.” Iida notices the growing dread upon Izuku’s face. “You also like to save people. There is nothing wrong with that.”
Tokoyami and Shouji nod in agreement, Ojiro giving his own sympathetic smile.
“Yeah bro.” Kirishima raises a fist in camaraderie, though it’s definitely out of pity. “It’s manly to want to care for others.”
“Think he more than cares for ‘em,” Katsuki slickly adds, in an artful voice that Izuku is more that familiar with, “the fucker get off on that shit.”
This time, it’s Shouto who scolds him, Katsuki’s implications clear enough for even him to catch on. They rest of the guys begin to bicker in the background, one half in defence of Izuku’s less than innocent tastes in women, the other intent on making fun of the golden boy for once.
Though the attention is finally off him, it does not help Izuku feel any better.
Because there’s a thought that lingers… it’s a sick thought, a terrible, horrible, awfully honest thought.
Shit, he does like them a bit fucked up.
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My truth is i still don’t know how to punctuate dialogue… pleek don’t look and none of dat…
Anyways I kind of wanna elaborate on Deku’s hero complex coming out in other ways in the 8 years of studying and becoming a teacher, like someone has to deal with it…
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natailiatulls07 · 5 hours
Text
New wag in the paddock
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Summary - Being the newest wag in the paddock can be quite daunting but with the right people around you, it's all okay
Warning - None <3
A/n - Slowly easing back into writing?? We'll see lol
-
Walking into the paddock with beyond nerve racking, with photographers just inside of the entrance and fans just outside of the entrance - I had no where to hide or breathe.
Luckily walking alongside me with Rebecca Donaldson, Carlos' partner. Because of our partners friendship, we were close friends. She had become someone who'd help me and become like a sister to me in the paddock and even beyond.
This morning particularly she had come over to mine and Landos suite to help me get ready for my first paddock day just after him and Carlos had left. Helping with picking out a gorgeous dress, helping with my makeup and also my hair. Like my own fairy godmother in a way.
'Wow there's a lot of people here...' I whisper in her direction, my eyes took in the busyness of a Sunday morning race day paddock. Next to me, I feel her laugh - She's used to this.
With a soft nod and a slip of an arm round my back, Rebecca is quick to reply. 'Yep it's a race day in Miami, you'll get used to it...' I feel her gently pushing me along, prompiting me not to run back out and go back to the safety of the hotel.
-
It wasn't long before she dropped me off at the McLaren hospitality. Wishing me good luck with a hug and a warm smile before I stand pathically watching her leave me to defend for myself - Almost like a child would whilst being dropped off for their first day of school. In a sense, it was exactly that; I had been dropped off and know expected to make friends until someone I knew would come and safe me.
I breathe in, turn on my heel and walk quietly into the McLaren hospitality. Inside it's modern and high tech, obviously very well thought out. There are multiple seating areas, some small groups accompanying a couple. I can smell fresh coffee as I walk over to a small sofa, sitting there anxiously.
Opening my phone, I can already see multiple notification from various social platforms. I hazard a guess that they are mostly all gossip sites tagging me in their posts.
But one notification stands out to me.
It's on instagram, informing me that I've been added to a groupchat. More specifically a groupchat for the f1 wags. My heart warms at their consideration and kindness, so this is what it feels like to be in a big friendship group of girls.
Soon a few messages start to load into the chat;
lilymhe - Heyyy Y/n! Welcome to the group, this is a safe space for you always xx
francisca.cgomes - Yeah all the girls are in this group so we all gossip, vent and help out in here! Girls support girls obv <3
carmenmmundt - Hi sweetheart!
kellypiquet - Literally if you need anything, send a quick message here and we'll help always x
alexandrasaintmleux - Babes I just saw the photos, you look STUNNING!!! <333
I don't even the big smile that forms on my lips, the feeling of acceptance heavy on my mind. Accidently I don't notice the person in front of me until I hear a soft cough. Looking up I recogise Lando trainer, Jon, stood waiting patiently with a small smile. I gasp at my oblivion. 'Oh my gosh, I'm sorry! You haven't been stood there long, gosh how oblivious can I get?' I nervously ramble.
I've only met him a hand full of times and to keep him waiting felt very rude of me. A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he shakes his head, prompting me to breathe out a sigh of relief.
'No don't worry, I came to get you cause you're boyfriend wants to see you before the race starts...' He explains, watching as I quickly gather my things - I don't want to keep him waiting any longer. 'Hey, no need to rush...' He chuckles, sensing my nerves. It'd be hard not to.
Notable I slow down, no longer rushing to collect myself. I let out a soft sigh, a smile screwing itself onto my lips. And once I have everything, I let Jon lead the way through to Landos garage.
As soon as we walk into the garage, my eyes are immediately drawn to Lando who is stood talking to a few engineers. With his classic smile on his face, something I really do adore is watching as he talks about his job - He really does love it, possible more than me.
I stand there for a few seconds, not wanting to intrude on his conversation. Around me the team work around the garage, clearly buzzing with pre race excitement, nerves and preparation - Something Jon went along with when we arrived.
Then suddenly, I feel eyes on me and I notice Lando walking towards me enthusiastically. As soon as I am in arms reach, I feel his arms slip comfortably around my waist. 'Hi...' I smile, slipping my own arms around his neck. 'How are you doing?'
Lando takes a few seconds, just staring lovingly at me before smirking. 'Good, better now that you're here. How did this morning go? You and Rebecca get here alright?' He questioned, very grateful that I had someone to join this morning.
I nod keenly, moving on to explain about my morning as my hand start to play with some of his mullet. 'Oh I was added to the wag groupchat, they're all really nice people. They said that I can talk to them about anything and ask for advice you know. I've only really met Rebecca so they don't they even know me but they still like accept me, I thought that was the sweet thing ever...' Unintentionally I go onto ramble about the other wags befriending me, only really stopping when I notice his gaze and gentle warm smile. 'Sorry I'm rambling...'
Looking around us, I can see some engineers watching curiously. A mix of his gaze on me, my realization and the engineers watching all make me blush deeply. 'No it's okay...'
His british cuts through my thoughts, reassuring me. 'I'm really happy that you got them beside you, they know what you're going through a lot more than I will ever so that's great!' One of his hands moves up to caress my cheek lovingly.
A comfortable silence falls on us for a few seconds, before I speak up once again. 'So are you ready for the race today? Is the car good?' I ask, despite not really understanding the sport I'm desperate to learn through Lando.
He turns, watching as the engineers do their final preperations and work and nodding confidently. 'Yeah all good! I've got my good luck charm with me and the car is set to do magic today!' Even the way he explains everything, there is a lot of excitement in his voice. I nod, careful to take in all the information he's telling me.
Our conversation continues for a few more minutes before he's notified that he has to make a move to get the car out onto the track. Quick Lando turns back towards me, smiling and pulling me into a tender kiss. 'I love you! Wish me luck!'
I return the same energy and excitement. 'Good luck Lan! You've got this! I love you too!'
-
1.2K
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filmbyjy · 1 day
Text
ONE NOTE
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SYNOPSIS > When you turned 18, you heard your best friend’s favourite song. Turns out, it was just one of the various signs to finding your soulmate. However, you couldn’t bring this up to jake. Not when he was in a happy relationship with your other best friend! Would you choose heartbreak or sacrifice your happiness for the sake of keeping the friendship?
EIGHTEEN – the first petal
MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT
a/n: please note there is a written part after these 6 pictures!! don't forget to read it because it is part of something important.
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“breathe.” yvette says as she pats your back. it was suffocating. the sink was bloodied up, splatters of blood that you had coughed up in a span of 5 minutes. mae runs in with a bottle in her hands.
“here, drink up.” she quickly opens the bottle up and hands it over to you. you took the bottle and quickly drank it.
“why didn’t you tell us it was this bad. we obviously knew that jake was your soulmate but we didn’t think that your body would react this way.” yvette looks at you.
“you’d honestly think that this disease would be a mythical thing but it is very much true.” mae says. you felt the tears fall down your face. yvette wipes them for you. she looks at you with such pity and such care.
“man, fuck that bitch.” she declares. “making such a sexy girl cry? not very girl’s girl coded of her.”
“she doesn’t know. i don’t think jake would tell her. besides, he doesn’t even know i’m his soulmate.”
“well, i think she would find out either ways. she’s such a weirdo.” mae huffs. yvette nods.
“what are you going to do?” yvette asks.
“live with it.”
“but you’re going to cough out blood if you keep seeing them so loving and disgusting.”
“it’s okay. once it gets worse, i’ll just get the surgery.”
“to remove your feelings? (name), you can’t seriously be thinking of doing this.” mae sighs. “i’ve seen people decide to go through with the surgery, they aren’t like themselves. once you do it, there will also be complications in the end. you won’t live for long.”
“there is no other way. if end up dead then so be it. i can’t let jake know. he’s very much in love with aria. he would never love me.” you sobbed. yvette pulls you closer and keeps you in her arms.
“hey hey, let’s not talk about death. you’re alive and well right now. let’s live your life to the fullest and make the best out of it. you aren’t dying.” she mutters. mae grabs your hand and lightly squeezes it.
“yeah, who cares about jake and aria. you have sunghoon, your friends, your brother and us. we are there for you.”
you were thankful for the people who were close to you. you had wiped your tears and nodded. “you’re right.”
there were a series of knocks at the bathroom door. yvette rolls her eyes and opens the door. “we’re having a sentimental moment here.”
“sorry, girls. just checking in to see if (name) is okay.” jay says.
“that or are you already missing mae?” yvette folds her arms. jay awkwardly laughs a little.
“maybe but i’m more concerned for my best friend of course.” you laughed a little and sniffled. you pushed mae forward towards jay.
“take her oh my god. you find out she’s your soulmate and you can’t stop being away from her.”
jay shrugs. sunghoon steps forward and hugs you.
"I'm not dying, hoon."
"just let me hug you. you need it." he says. your smile falters a little. "you can cry, you know?"
"i already cried just now."
"and? you can cry again and I wouldn't judge."
"I know you won't, hoon."
your brother comes up to you. "okay, break it up. can I hug my sister?"
sunghoon lets you go, and leehan easily replaces him. "when did you get so big?"
"I've always been big." he says. you laughed.
"okay, but you're my baby brother."
"yes, i am." you ruffled his hair and he pulls back from the hug.
"let's go back. those two are probably wondering where we are." taesan says.
"the last i saw them they were making out-" *whack* ni-ki winces when sun whacks him.
"don't even mention that." sunoo warns.
"right, sorry noona." ni-ki pouts. you sighed a little.
"it's fine, ni-ki."
you could see jake and aria coming closer to the group. jake was mainly concerned about everyone but aria...she's just kinda following jake.
"hey, why is everyone gathering around here?" jake asks.
"oh, there was a slight mishap so (name) called the girls over. we were worried so we waited outside for them." heeseung explains.
"you could've told us."
"yeah, but you were busy making out with aria so we didn't want to bother the both of you." sunghoon says. there was a petty tone underlying as he tells jake.
"what the fuck is your problem?" jake comes up to sunghoon. sunghoon scoffs.
"nothing."
"nothing? you said that the other time and then you went on a tangent hating on my girlfriend." jake folds his arms.
sunghoon rolls his eyes. "well, I'm right either ways. you were sooooo oblivious and busy with aria that even when (name) got hurt or had an issue you didn't care."
"she's fine now, isn't she? you guys took good care of her. she's in good hands, so i trust you guys to care for her. after all, I'm just her best friend and I am busy with my girlfriend. You don't understand me because you don't have a girlfriend!" jake yells at sunghoon.
you start to cough up again. this time when you look down at your hand, not only was there blood but there was a petal. the first petal to have ever appeared. you had looked up to see everyone staring at you. jake's jaw dropped when he saw the blood in your palms.
you didn't know what else to do other than run away. sunghoon glared at jake once more before he runs after you.
this was moving too fast...
were you dying?
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taglist[open]: @sumzysworld @mitmit01 @moon3verland @baribaaari @byty2k @alex-is-sleeping @viagumi @txtlyn @belovedsthings @woninluv @dreamiestay @niniissus @kyutiepeachy @yoongisbaguetteshoes @squiishymeow @jjaammm @enhaz1 @illvding @woniejjang @bee-the-loser @laurradoesloveu @ckline35 @ningx2stan @hoonlvly @clampclover @xyzyx01 @victoriasimm @eneiyri @nshmrarki @woorcve @bubblytaetae @i03jae @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @l1wv00n @onlyhyunjin @kyanmeai @isa942572 @lisaswifey @alisonyus @firstclassjaylee @szkstay @enhamysunshines @milanco @hsbae @zyvlxqht @lixiebokie @wth121 @enahasblog @gongiz @anuisamazing @heestrawberries @gyehyeonist @nshmurarki @heelovesmeknot @silquids
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mindmelter · 10 hours
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Felix The Perfect Toy
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Felix was the hottest jock in my school. Everyone knew who he was and everyone wanted to be his friend.
And I was no different; I was obsessed with his good-looking face, his fit athletic body, and his loud yet charismatic personality, and he had this casual, effortless way of carrying himself like he didn’t even realize how perfect he was.
But it’s not just the looks. Felix is different. While the other popular guys are absolute douchebags, Felix is kind, even to people like me. He could have anyone he wanted—everyone wants to be around him—but he never treats anyone like they’re beneath him. That’s what makes him even more attractive: he’s not just the best-looking guy in school, he’s actually good. It’s maddening how perfect he is.
I dreamed of having him all for myself, but I could barely approach him without having a full-blown panic attack. I knew someone like him would never pay attention to someone like me.
He was the captain of the school's swim team which gave him a fit athletic body to fantasize and drool all about.
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Every time I watched him swimming, my mind would wander, fantasizing about licking the water on his body, tasting his hairy armpits, or finally seeing what he hides under those speedos. Unfortunately, that was all he was to me; a fantasy.
When my parents died when I was twelve, I moved in with my very wealthy grandfather. At first, he seemed like a frightening and enigmatic figure—an imposing man of few words, as people would say. But as the years passed, I gradually grew accustomed to his unique personality.
I never knew what he worked for, how he became so rich, or why he was always traveling, which consequently would leave the mansion all to myself. It was lonely, I will admit, I had no one else to share that beautiful mansion with.
One day we were having breakfast together. He was wearing a black robe, flipping through the newspaper with his usual silence, rarely acknowledging me. I sat across from him, stirring my coffee absentmindedly, my mind wandering back to Felix, as it often did.
"You seem distracted," my grandfather said without looking up.
I froze, unsure how to respond. I never talked about my feelings, especially not around him. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who cared about teenage crushes.
"Just... thinking about school," I muttered.
He lowered the paper slowly, folding it neatly before setting it aside. His cold gaze fixed on me, making me shift uncomfortably in my seat. “You’re not a very good liar, boy. What’s on your mind?"
“It’s… this guy,” I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel my face heating up.
He already knew I was gay, so that wasn't a surprise to him.
“A guy?” he repeated, almost as if testing the word. "Go on."
"Yeah, a guy from school," I said, avoiding eye contact with him, “Felix. He’s... I don’t know, he’s just... perfect. And completely out of my league.”
My grandfather remained silent, his eyes never leaving mine. I couldn’t tell if he was judging me or just waiting for me to keep going.
“I mean,” I continued, unable to stop myself now that I’d started, “he’s popular, everyone loves him. He’s the captain of the swim team, and… well, I like him. A lot. But there’s no way he’d ever notice me. I’m... no one compared to him.”
For a long moment, my grandfather just watched me, his expression unreadable. Then, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
“I see,” he said slowly. “So you have feelings for this... Felix. You wish you could have him?"
I nodded, feeling embarrassed for even admitting it. "Yeah. But like I said, he’s way out of my league.”
There was a strange look in my grandfather’s eyes, a glint of something I couldn’t quite place. He stood up from the table, smoothing his robe as he moved toward the door.
“Enjoy your breakfast,” he said cryptically before disappearing into the hallway.
I didn’t think much of it at the time. I thought maybe he was just being his usual mysterious self.
A week later, it was my 18th birthday, but it could as well be any other day since I had no one to spend my birthday with, not even my grandfather, as he was still traveling.
That day at school, I noticed Felix had missed all his classes. That was odd since he had swimming practice that day. I was sad because I was eager to watch him getting all wet in the pool that day; it would be my birthday gift.
Later that day I came back home from school. The house was eerily quiet, as it often was.
When I opened the door to my room, the sight stopped me dead in my tracks. There, in the middle of my room, was a large and long box. Confused, I approached it cautiously, there was a red present lace on top of the box, I pulled it off and slowly opened the box, and inside I saw... I let out a scream and fell to the floor.
My breath caught in my throat.
Felix?
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He was motionless with his eyes open, while he was wearing a white tank top and black shorts. He looked perfect, too perfect—like a doll.
I backed away, my heart thudding in my chest. "W-what the hell...?"
This couldn't be Felix; it must be an identical replica of his body, I thought. There was only one way to find out. I slowly approached him and ran my hand on his face, and I felt his soft and warm skin. It was really him, but somehow... different. His eyes were empty, and his body was unnaturally stiff. I gently placed my hand on his chest and felt a heartbeat. It was very slow... actually, too slow for a person—one beat for every five seconds—but at least he had a heartbeat.
A low chuckle came from the doorway. I turned and saw my grandfather standing there with a grin on his face. He stepped inside the room, his cold eyes drifting between me and Felix.
"I see you’ve found your gift."
I swallowed hard, "What... what did you do to him?"
"Consider it your birthday present," he said, "I couldn't let my grandson put himself down over a dumb boy, now you have him."
I stared at him, speechless.
"You don’t have to be alone anymore. He will keep you company when I'm out traveling. He’s yours now, exactly how you wanted."
"But... he’s not... he’s not real, he can't be real!" I stammered.
My grandfather smiled. "Oh, he’s real. But let’s just say I’ve made some... modifications to his brain." He stepped closer, looking down at Felix with a clinical detachment. "You can do whatever you like with him. He won’t resist. He was programmed for obedience only. He sees himself now as a toy, and you as his ultimate owner. Isn’t that what you wanted?"
*Programmed for obedience?* The thought of it sent a shiver down my spine, but not in a bad way.
I glanced up at my grandfather, and for once, I didn’t feel like I had to hide my feelings. “You... did this for me?” My voice cracked. I could barely believe what I was seeing. Felix—*my* Felix—was lying right in front of me, his perfect body ready and waiting.
My grandfather nodded, his expression still cold, but there was something else in his eyes—satisfaction.
"Of course, the way you spoke about him, I know what it means to desire something so deeply, you feel powerless. So I decided to remove that powerlessness for you."
“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered, my eyes never leaving Felix’s perfectly still body inside the box, “I’ve... I’ve wanted this for so long, but I never thought...”
My grandfather chuckled, “No need for words, boy. Just enjoy your present, he’s been prepared for you.”
I stepped closer to the box, Felix's features were serene while he stared at nothing. He wasn’t just a fantasy anymore—he was real, and he was mine.
I reached out, my hand trembling as my fingertips brushed against his handsome face. Warm. Awake. And yet completely not.
“He won’t... fight me?” I asked, almost breathless.
“No,” my grandfather replied. “He’ll do exactly as you say. He’s been modified to please you, to follow your every command.”
I turned to my grandfather and smiled. “Thank you,” I said.
My grandfather gave a small nod. "I knew you'd understand. You're my blood, after all. Just remember to never let him out of the house. He's still missing as far as everyone knows. You're 18, so he's your responsibility now."
I looked down at Felix again, feeling a sense of ownership, of power, that I had never felt before. My fantasies were no longer just in my head—they were right here, ready to be made real.
As my grandfather turned to leave the room, he paused at the door, giving me one last glance over his shoulder. “Oh, and there's a manual in the box, enjoy your present."
Once he was out of my room, I locked the door for privacy. Then I picked Felix up from the box. His body was heavy, as expected, but after some hard effort, I managed to drag him to my bed.
Just for fun, I posed his right arm, making him flex.
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He looked so serene, so peaceful like he was asleep. But his eyes, those beautiful eyes that I had dreamt about, stared into nothingness. They were the only indication that something was wrong—or right—with him.
I couldn't hold any more second and started to undress him, first taking off his white tank top, then I pulled down his shorts. I was surprised to see he was wearing his swimming speedos.
He probably was abducted after his swimming practice. His body was even more amazing from closer, and to think that for so long, I just watched him from afar...
The realization of having Felix lying on my bed made me start leaking.
I lifted both his arms into a flexing pose.
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A smile crept onto my face as I buried my face into his armpits and took a deep sniff, but I was disappointed; he didn't smell like I was expecting to. I wanted to smell his sweaty, musky armpits, but instead, he smelled faintly like a factory or a lab.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I had to figure out how to make him more 'alive'; I needed him to produce the sweat I was so looking forward to sniffing and lick. I wanted him to act more like the real Felix.
That's when I remembered about the manual my grandfather talked about, the instructions were surprisingly detailed. It was like a manual for a very expensive, very human-like sex doll. But this wasn't a doll; this was Felix. After searching for a while, I found a section titled "Activation and Customization."
"To activate your toy, you must press a button installed in your toy's nape. This will initiate the awakening process," the instructions said. I quickly started searching Felix's stiff neck for the button, finally, my fingertips found a small, unnoticeable button hidden under his skin at the base of his neck.
I took a deep breath and pressed it. Nothing happened at first until his eyes fluttered and started to roll in circles as if it was imitating a loading icon.
Suddenly, Felix's body jerked to life. He looked around the room with a vacant expression, his pupils dilating as he took in his surroundings. I watched, frozen, as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
"H-Hello, Felix," I managed to say, my voice quivering.
He stared at me, his gaze unflinching and his movements mechanical. "Hello, Master," he responded in a monotone voice. "I'm your toy, Felix. How may I serve you?"
"Ummm, can you... Can you act more like the old... umm, real Felix?"
I watched as his eyes started to swirl again; he then looked at me—the same look that I had seen countless times at school when he was about to tease someone or when he was flirting with the girls. "I'm sorry for acting weird, dude," he chuckled, his voice sounding so much more natural, he then smirked and looked around my room. "That's a nice room you have, did you win the lottery or something?" He joked.
"Well, kinda... ummm... but you are definitely my best prize so far," I said, It was funny how I was still nervous about talking with him, even though I knew he was my brainless toy now. "So, how do you feel?"
Felix rubbed his head and chuckled. "I feel fine, man. A little stiff, but I guess that's to be expected after being in a box all day." He looked down at his body, then looked at me with an eyebrow raised, "But, dude, what the fuck? Why am I in only my speedos?"
I blushed and stumbled over my words. "Well, you know, you don't have to wear clothes around me, you're my toy now."
Felix relaxed, "You're right, I don't have to wear clothes around you." With that, he stood up and pulled down his speedos, revealing his big soft cock. I gasped at the sight.
"W-what are you doing?" I stuttered, my eyes glued to his cock.
"You said I don't have to wear clothes around you, speedos are technically clothes, aren't they?" He said with a cheeky smile.
I nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."
He walked over to me, his cock swinging gently with every step. He was so close that I could feel his warm breath on my face. "So, what do you want to do with me, dude? I'm your toy, and as a toy, I deserve to be played with."
"I-I would like you to do push-ups for me, p-please," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
Felix nodded and dropped to the floor, his muscles rippling as he pushed himself up and down. I watched, mesmerized, as he performed the task with ease.
"Is this what you had in mind?" He asked, looking up at me with a smirk while still doing push-ups.
I nodded, my cock now rock hard in my pants. "Yes," I managed to say. "It's exactly how I fantasized for so long," I pulled my hard cock out and started jerking off to the sight of my crush, obeying my every command.
For so long I had jerked off to Felix's photos, and now here he was, in the flesh, doing push-ups in front of me. The reality was so much better than any of my fantasies. I couldn't believe this was really happening.
After almost one hour of nonstop push-ups, Felix's amazing body was glistening with sweat. The smell was starting to fill my room, it was heavenly! He looked up at me with a hint of exhaustion in his eyes, I kinda wanted to know how far he could keep doing pushups, but I didn't want to break my new toy.
"That's enough Felix, sit on that chair over there with your hands behind your head. I want to taste your sweaty armpits."
"Yes Master." Felix obeyed immediately, sitting down with his arms behind his head and looking up at me expectantly.
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My cock bobbed as I walked to him and sat on his lap; I leaned down and took a deep breath, filling my nose with the musky scent of his armpits. I then slowly stuck my tongue out and licked the saltiness from his skin, savoring the taste of the most popular jock in my school. His body tensed, but he didn't move away.
"That's so disgusting dude, how can you get off by licking the dirty armpits of another dude?!" He exclaimed with a mix of shock and confusion, but he didn't resist.
I chuckled and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "It's not just any armpit, Felix. It's yours."
After spending the entire evening sniffing and licking every inch of Felix's sweaty body, I decided it was time to take things to the next level. "Alright, Felix," I said, getting off from him, "I want you to lift your legs and spread them, keep your hands behind your head."
Felix looked at me with a mix of curiosity and confusion, but he did as he was told, his body now programmed to obey his new owner.
"That's so humiliating," he murmured.
My heart was racing. This was it—the moment I had been dreaming of for so long. I looked down at him, his body now mine to explore and use as I wished. "Don't worry," I whispered, trying to reassure him, "you're going to enjoy this, I promise."
I leaned in between his legs and kissed him softly. His body tensed up, he clearly wasn't happy about kissing another guy, but he didn't pull away and just let me explore his mouth. Encouraged, I deepened the kiss, my tongue sliding into his mouth and exploring it as he lay there, unmoving. "That's fucking gross.... uuurrghh, I'm not gay," he mumbled against my lips.
"It doesn't matter if you are gay or straight, Felix," I whispered as I continued jerking him off, "You're my toy now."
He stared at me, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and anger. "What the fuck, man? I'm nobody's toy!" He breathed out, his voice cracking slightly.
The programming really did a good job at mimicking Felix's real straight personality. Ignoring his protests, I reached down and grabbed his cock, stroking it gently, but he wasn't getting hard, of course he wouldn't, I thought with a chuckle.
"Get hard for me," I commanded, watching his cock swell in my hand. "Does this feel good?"
Felix let out a moan, his body betraying his protests. "No, it...uurrghhh... it doesn't," he gritted out, his voice filled with need.
"Then let's try this," I aimed my cock against his tight ass, I felt his body tense up, but before he could react, I inserted the tip, feeling his muscles clench around me.
"What the fuck!" He shouted, trying to sit up, but I pushed him back down gently.
"Don't move," I whispered, "I want you to love this. Remember, you're not just my toy, you're my sex toy. Your purpose is to give me pleasure."
I watched Felix's eyes rolling in circular movement for a few seconds, then he suddenly looked at me with needy puppy eyes.
"Aawwwwwwghhh! This feels so fucking good! I love how you fill my ass, dude!" He moaned.
I grinned and pushed deeper inside him, feeling his tight straight ass envelop my shaft. I began to thrust in and out of him, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm. His moans grew louder and louder; the command for him to love it was really proving to be effective.
As I fucked him, I couldn't believe how perfect it felt. Soon I was fucking him real hard, my hips slapping hard against his ass, the sound echoing through my room. As I thrust inside him, I leaned in and buried my face in his armpits. I took deep sniffs as I heard Felix's moans grow louder and more desperate.
"You're mine Felix, forever!" I moaned against his armpits as I came inside him.
While I was still inside of him, I commanded him to cum, but just when he was in the middle of his orgasm, I pressed the button in his nape, and he froze mid-orgasm, his face now frozen with his eyes rolling back and tongue sticking out.
But I was surprised to see his cock was still shooting cum all over his abs, some even landed on his face and tongue. I guess the programming isn't able to stop an ongoing orgasm.
Pulling away, I looked down at him, lying on the chair with his body covered in sweat and cum leaking from his ass. His handsome face, was now distorted in a mindless dumb expression.
I decided to give him a bath, to clean off the sweat and cum that covered him, but also because he still had some of the "factory" smell on him.
I filled the tub with warm water and called him to get inside the bathtub. He was in his mindless, obedient state; that was his default mode. I wasn't in the mood to bathe a loud and rebellious toy.
His eyes were glazed over as I cleaned his body, it was so cute.
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As I washed his pecs, I couldn't help but playfully pinch his nipples. I continued my exploration, moving down to his abs and then to his hard cock, which was still hard since I first commanded him to be.
"You're such a good toy," I praised, giving his shaft a gentle tug. "I've always loved you, Felix, yet you never noticed me," I whispered as I washed his hair with shampoo, "you were always surrounded by so many friends and busy with girls, why would you notice someone like me, right?" I said, washing his pecs and abs. He didn't respond since he was in default mode, but I wasn't expecting him to. "I'm so glad we have each other now. I promise we will have a lot of fun together."
When I was finished, I told him to step out of the bath and sit so I could dry him. As I was drying his muscles, an idea suddenly came to me. I pressed his nape and gave him a command...
After I was done with the command, he tilted his head and smiled at me.
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"Why use a towel, Master? Use your tongue to dry my sexy body." He then pulled the towel from his lap, giving me full access to his throbbing shaft, "And I think you should start with my cock."
__________________________
I've been enjoying my new toy for months now.
Felix's disappearance is commented on to this day, no one knows what happened to him after he left the swimming practice. Somehow, the organization in which my grandfather worked managed to clear all the evidence of his disappearance from that night.
I was back home after a boring day at school, and like every day since I got Felix as my toy, I spent the day looking forward to coming back home to him.
As I walked into my room, I was greeted with the sight of Felix "sleeping" on a chair.
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He always spends the day "Inactivated" when I am out. I walked to him and pressed his nape, activating him.
When he saw me he gave me a warm smile and stretched his arms, teasing me by showing his armpits.
"Welcome back Master, please come take your daily dose of your toy's armpits."
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133 notes · View notes
itneverendshere · 1 day
Note
lovee bartender!reader and rafe soo much, theyre daydream content fr!!! <3 if it takes your fancy, maybe a little piece where readers tired so she puts her pride away and does go to rafe for help (even if only for something very small) and hes just elated, ecstatic, all the words for it! that man is always so stressed, need him to have some peace LOL
she eventually becomes a little less headstrong about his help so this when she finally really understands that’s is okay to need someone else sometimes 🙂‍↕️🫂 thank you for the request! and also thank you for loving them too 🫶🏻
year dark night and now i see daylight - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
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You wiped down the bar for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. 
The lights glinted off the glasses, making you squint. You were so tired. Your legs felt like they would give out at any moment, and the tension in your shoulders was making your neck ache, but there was no time to stop. 
There was never any time to stop.
You’d been running on fumes for days now—maybe weeks?—but who was counting? Not you, clearly. Because taking a break or slowing down?
That just wasn’t in your vocabulary. You were fine. You could handle it. You always handled it. You didn’t need help.
The headache you’d been ignoring was getting worse, though, creeping behind your eyes, making you blink more than usual. Your hands were shaky, and if you were being honest with yourself (which you rarely were these days), your body was running on empty. But still, there was work to do, and people needed drinks, and you weren’t about to let anyone think you couldn’t do your job.
You paused, gripping the edge of the bar a little tighter than necessary when the room seemed to tilt, just for a second. That was new. You sucked in a slow breath, trying to steady yourself. 
Nope. Not now. Can’t do this here. 
There was no way you were going to break down in the middle of your shift, in front of everyone. You’d tough it out like you always did.
“Hey!” Your co-worker voice cut through the pain, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was waving you over to another table where more customers had just sat down.
Perfect. More people. Just what you needed.
You forced your feet to move, pushing through the exhaustion as best you could. 
You felt that familiar wave of anxiety, your new best friend, but you shoved it down like always.
You could handle it. You had to. Because asking for help? Letting someone see you weren’t doing okay? That was never an option. Except…maybe this time, it was.
You hesitated behind the bar, staring blankly at the group that had just sat down. They could wait a minute, right? Just one minute to pull yourself together. You’d earned that, at least.
Before you knew it, your phone was in your hand, thumb hovering over one name in your contacts: Rafe.
You hated asking for help. He worried about you enough as it was, constantly telling you to slow down or take it easy. You usually brushed him off. But tonight…tonight felt different. You were running on nothing but pride and stubbornness at this point, and even that was starting to crack.
Swallowing hard, you hit Call.
It rang twice before you heard his voice. “Hey, baby, what’s up?” Rafe sounded surprised—probably because you never called him when you were working. You could hear the concern creeping in already.
You squeezed your eyes shut, hating how vulnerable you felt just by calling him. “Can you—uh, can you come pick me up? I’m kinda…done.”
There was a beat of silence on the other end, like he was processing the fact that you, of all people, were asking for help. When he spoke again, his voice was almost relieved. “Yeah, ‘course. I’ll be there in ten. Don’t move, okay?”
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, the tight knot in your chest loosening just a little.
Hanging up, you slumped against the counter, finally letting yourself breathe. Ten minutes. You could make it ten more minutes.
Rafe arrived faster than you expected, his tall frame pushing through the double doors of the club. His eyes locked onto you immediately, and the second he saw you, his tough guy expression dropped. You didn’t realize how close you were to falling apart until you saw the way he was looking at you. 
“You okay?” he asked, crossing the bar in a few quick strides, his hand already reaching for yours.
For once, you didn’t brush him off with a quick “I’m fine.” You just shook your head, letting out a shaky breath. “Not really.”
He didn’t say anything right away, just pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in that way that made you feel safe, like it was okay to just not be strong for a second. You hadn’t noticed how badly you needed this—how badly you needed him—until now. Rafe’s chin rested against the top of your head, and you could feel his heart beating under your cheek.
When you finally pulled back, he didn’t let go right away, his blue eyes searching your face. His brow furrowed as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing softly along your cheek. You must’ve looked worse than you thought because the worry in his eyes was impossible to miss.
“You really weren’t kidding about being done, huh?” His voice was gentle, but you could hear the hint of frustration in it. Not at you, but at the fact that you’d been pushing yourself this hard without saying anything sooner.
You gave him a weak smile, trying to shrug it off. “Yeah, I guess I went a little overboard this week. But I’m fine now. You’re here.”
He sighed, shaking his head but pulling you closer again, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your lower back, “You’re gonna give me a heart-attack before thirty.”
You bit your lip, that familiar guilt settling in your chest. You knew he was right. You knew he worried all the time, every single day. But admitting you needed help—especially to him—took a lot of energy, like ripping away the last bit of control you had. And control was how you survived. How you kept everything in check.
He wasn’t going to think less of you for it. If anything, he looked elated that you’d let him in, that you trusted him enough to ask. You nodded, feeling the tears start to prick the back of your eyes. “I know. I just—” You broke off, not really knowing how to explain it. “I keep doing this. I’m sorry.”
“I got you,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s get you home.”
The quiet of the truck felt like a much-needed break from everything, the engine lulling you into something close to sleep. You hadn’t realized just how tense you were until now, with the night air coming through the window and Rafe’s hand resting on your thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your skin.
You leaned your head back against the seat, watching the headlights of passing cars flash by. It felt weird to not be constantly thinking about what came next, what else needed to get done, or how much work you still had to finish. For once, it was like your brain was actually giving you a break, like it was saying, “Yeah, okay, you can relax now. You’re not alone.”
You glanced over at Rafe, his jaw set in concentration as he drove, but the way his fingers held onto you so gently told you everything. He hadn’t said much since you left the club, but you didn’t need him to.
“Are you hungry?” 
You blinked, realizing you hadn’t even thought about food. You weren’t really sure if you were hungry or just exhausted. “Not really,” you admitted. “I just wanna get home.”
Rafe nodded, giving your leg a gentle squeeze. “Okay. Almost there.”
You let out a breath, grateful that he didn’t push. He never did. It was one of the reasons being with him felt so easy, even when everything else in your life felt overwhelming. He never tried to fix things for you, never made you feel like you were weak for needing help. He just showed up—every time.
The minutes passed, and before you knew it, you were pulling up to his place. The sight of his house—your second home at this point—made your anxiety loosen even more. You didn’t have to do anything here. No one needed you to be “on.” You could just…exist.
“You good?” he asked, offering his hand to help you out.
“Yeah, I’m good,” you mumbled, though your body still felt like it might give out if you let yourself relax too much. You took his hand anyway, letting him help you down.
Once you were inside, you kicked off your shoes and practically collapsed onto the couch, feeling the cushions sink under you like they were the softest thing in the world. You pulled your knees up, wrapping your arms around them as Rafe moved around the room, grabbing a blanket and tossing it over you before sitting down next to you, close but not smothering.
He knew exactly how to handle you—how to be there without overwhelming you. He just sat there, his arm slung over the back of the couch, waiting for you to speak or not speak, whatever you needed. And that’s when it hit you how lucky you were to have him.
“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not really sure why the words came out, but feeling like you had to say something.
Rafe frowned, his hand brushing over your shoulder. “For what?”
“For… I don’t know. For not telling you sooner that I was struggling. For always acting like I can handle everything when I clearly can’t.”
He shook his head, giving you that soft smile that made you feel like the most important person in the world. “You don’t have to apologize for that, baby. I know you. You you don’t have to be perfect all the time.”
You bit your lip, “I just don’t want to feel like I’m dumping all my shit on you.”
Rafe leaned in a little closer, his hand now resting on your knee. “You’re not dumping anything on me. We’re in this together. I love you, and I want to be there for you. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, but this time it wasn’t from stress. It was from the realization that he was right.
He’d always been right and you knew it, it just took you months to process it.
You exhaled, leaning your head against his shoulder, “I love you too,” you whispered, the words feeling more powerful now, more real.
Because this wasn’t just love. This was trust.
He kissed the top of your head, his fingers gently running through your hair as he pulled you closer. He wasn’t frustrated or upset. He was just there, in that patient way that made you fall for him in the first place.
"You’re really too good to me, you know that?" you said softly, tracing your finger over the back of his hand.
He shook his head. “Nah, you deserve it. Besides, it’s not like you make it easy for me to help.”
He said it teasingly, but there was truth in his words. You knew you had a habit of trying to do everything on your own, shutting people out when you felt overwhelmed.
You looked down, feeling a little sheepish. "Yeah, I know. I’m working on it."
"Hey," he said, gently tilting your chin up so you were looking at him again. "I’m kidding. I’m here for you, okay?”
Your heart did that little flip thing it always did when he said stuff like that, like you couldn’t believe someone could love you that much, but at the same time, you knew it was true. 
“If I mess up again, just remind me that you said I don’t have to be perfect."
He chuckled, pulling you back into his arms. “You know, you’re probably gonna fall asleep on me right here.”
You smiled, your eyes already half-closed. “Maybe that’s the plan.”
You knew he was grinning without looking, feeling it he leaned down to kiss the top of your head again.
“Okay, but you’re definitely not getting out of taking care of yourself tomorrow. I’m making you pancakes in the morning. You’re eating, and you’re not gonna fight me on it.”
“Mmm, pancakes sound good,” you mumbled, already feeling the pull of sleep creeping in. “But only if you make the chocolate chip ones.”
“Deal.”
Wrapped up in his arms, the world outside of this little bubble didn’t feel so overwhelming anymore
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