#and let go of the matter altogether for the time being | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kurooh · 8 months ago

Text

I’MA MAKE U SCREAM ★ S. GOJO & S. GETO

⊹₊˚. a series of unrelenting, mysterious phone calls late at night leads to you being sandwiched between two hot ghostface slashers who’ve got you fucking for your life.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, ghostface! gojo & geto, threesome, knife play, landline phones, mentions of death, oral (f receiving), double penetration, anal/fingering, tongue piercings, pussy slapping, biting. 5.2K words whew (pls read anyway 🧎‍♀️)

xoxo, juno. happy halloween!! thank you to my dearest wolfy anon for beta reading <33 comment & rb if you enjoyed!!! 🎃

“hello?”

“why don’t you wanna talk with me?”

“who is this?” you roll your eyes, unimpressed by the cheery voice coming through the phone. “it’s like eleven at night, what do you want?”

“ya tell me your name, and i’ll tell ya mine,” that voice lilts into a teasing tone, words dripping with persuasive sweetness.

“nah, i’m heading to bed. nice talk.”

“aw, bedtime already? you’re not even gonna watch a movie before you sleep?” the question has your brows furrowing in aggravation, but you sigh, choosing to answer anyway.

“i didn’t have anything in mind,” the caller lets out a laugh, straight into your ear. “what, you’ve got a suggestion?”

“do you like scary movies?” and you can hear the smile in the caller’s voice; he’s amused, probably laughing with his friends over the prank call in the moments of muffled silence.

“i suppose so.”

“don’t you have a favorite? why not watch it?”

“well, i won’t be able to sleep,” you reply simply, twirling the phone cord between your fingers. “but the longer we talk, the more sleep i lose out on. so, have a good night!”

“wait!” the caller snaps, demanding as ever. the sudden outburst sends chills straight down your spine. “don’t hang up on me.”

“and why shouldn’t i?” the blatant defiance has the caller letting out a laugh that sounds rather menacing . . he clears his throat, seemingly returning to his more even tempered tone.

“we’re not done talking,” he says simply, sounding a little crackly through the phone. “so don’t hang up, you’ll—”

a rational person with an interest in talking would certainly call during the day, and only once or twice before quitting altogether to wait for a call back. an irrational person would have your house phones ringing off the hooks while you were in the shower, calling nonstop and then getting far too arrogant once you finally picked up. just as you slam the phone back down, it starts to ring again.

you decide to leave the room, figuring that the caller will tire himself out quickly, but he doesn’t. in the time that you left the phone to go to another room, there wasn’t a single beat of silence. furious, you race toward the phone, fingers sliding on the kitchen counter as you snatch it up.

“fuck you! listen to me, you’d better stop—”

“no, you listen to me,” the caller snarls, and the harshness of his voice has your heart kicking hard against your rib cage. something in your gut tells you that this isn’t just a talkative caller. “don’t fucking hang up on me again, got that?”

you recover some of your composure, goosebumps rising on your skin. the cool breeze blowing through a nearby window adds to the chilling feeling that’s washed over you in only a matter of seconds. “w-well, what do you want, then?”

“i wanna see your insides, dummy,” is the crazed response, and you can’t stop the way your face immediately twists in horror. a clicking sound is heard as the second phone in your house—the one upstairs—is picked up, and another person hops onto the call.

“now, now,” this new voice is smooth, immediately drawing your attention as you listen attentively through the phone. “that’s no way to talk, you’ll scare her silly.”

“what the fuck?” you ask aloud, although you hadn’t meant to. all you can think about is the fact that two weirdos have you almost . . cornered on the phone.

the crazy voice scoffs, ignoring your mumbling. “well, you heard her! trying to hang up and shit,” he clicks his tongue in disapproval before sighing. “anyway, where were we?”

you don’t even say anything, and the other voice exhales into the phone. “see, look at what you’ve gone and done now. our girl’s too scared to talk to us, isn’t she?”

“look, i-i’m just gonna go to bed. goodnight.”

“you’re not going anywhere, honey,” the calmer one of the two says, but this time his voice is much clearer, almost as if he’s standing beside you. you take a step backward, trying to shake off the weird feelings and relentless goosebumps spreading across your skin.

you might as well be wearing nothing.

the satin slip dress you were planning to sleep in is as thin as plastic wrap; you’ve backed up into someone’s strong chest and thanks to the thinness of your pajamas, you can feel each sharp ridge of muscle. the pecs are strong, firm to the touch, and the abs are hard enough to cut diamonds. fear races through your body, so overwhelming that your lips part to let out a scream—but the noise is muffled by a large palm that pulls you back, flush against the muscles. separated only by a few layers of clothing, you can feel the warmth of their body and the casual rise of their chest as they breathe. if you weren’t being silenced, this would be comforting, in a way.

“promise you won’t scream, baby?” that calm voice has a dangerous edge; you nod immediately, frantically, desperately — as you feel a few tears gather in your eyes. this . . does not look, feel, or sound good in any way imaginable. who even are these people? and why you? a seemingly normal thursday evening had gone entirely downhill, and you didn’t even know why.

“good girl,” the person hums, dropping their hand from the lower half of your face and instead replacing it with the sharp edge of a knife. “let’s head upstairs, shall we?” as you ascend the steps, the blade drops lower, until it hovers over the tender skin of your throat. you can’t even turn around and see who the person is, for fear of getting cut over the simple action.

“could i at least turn around?”

“what for?” he asks, nudging the bedroom door open. you’re met with the frightening sight of a person in robes lounging on your bed, against your pillows. they have a spooky, ghostly mask, but you know who it is the second their mouth opens.

“you took the knives out that quickly?” the figure clicks his tongue, raising a hand to his face to pull off the ghostface mask. so this is what this is—some kind of ridiculous scream roleplay . . but the feel of the knife and the way it gleams is too real. “what happened to playing around, suguru?”

“it’s—it’s you! from the phone.” you say, straining against the man behind you, who pulls the knife a few inches away from your throat.

“careful now, doll. you’ll hurt yourself.”

“if you let me go, maybe i’d—” the man on the bed sits up then, pulling off his mask. you can’t see who he is just yet, the shadow from his hood obscuring his face. in a moment, he grabs hold of your face with a gloved hand, fingers squeezing cruelly at your cheeks.

it’s utterly nasty, the way feelings of attraction twist in your stomach. heat rises to your cheeks and you swallow, looking into diamond blue eyes that have your heart fluttering despicably. how is it possible to even be focused on your grim reaper’s looks, almost entirely forgetting their intentions as you lose yourself in those eyes?

“cat got your tongue? i said i wanna see your insides and you didn’t even look fazed.”

beneath the robe, you can see the tips of snowy hair, along with a face that’s far too handsome to belong to some kind of murderer. you shake your head in disbelief, sucking in a breath. “uh . . huh? sorry, i didn’t hear you.”

he drops your face with an annoyed scoff, stepping back to plop down on your bed before fully pulling off his hood. “y’know what—suguru, you deal with her.”

the man behind you pushes you forward, and you awkwardly take a seat beside the sighing killer. suguru tugs off his mask and inspects the knife closely, running a gloved finger over the edge before nodding. “might as well use the knives on you. maybe you’ll hear us then?”

“what’re you—why’re you doing all this?” you ask, the words sputtering out of your mouth nervously. “is there any way i can convince you not to cut me open?”

suguru looks at his literal partner in crime, pushing his black bangs away from his eyes as he speaks. “oh? trying to cheat death, sweet thing?”

you shrug, casually flopping onto your back. the satiny fabric of your dress flips up, and you unintentionally give both of them a great view of your panties. now that they’re deliberating how to move forward with you, the fear of the situation has dissipated greatly. “i just wanna go to bed and live to see another day tomorrow. name the price for my life and i’ll pay it.”

“those are fighting words,” suguru remarks, “don’t you agree, satoru?”

satoru nods, eyes glued to the thin fabric covering what’s between your legs. his mind runs wild as he imagines what he and suguru could impose on you. they’re practically in sync—suguru looks over just as satoru looks up, the two of them sharing a knowing look.

“hmph. sit up and listen.” satoru nudges your thigh, and you do as he says, looking bored. the whole night has done one too many 180s, giving you the most severe case of whiplash in your life. you’d initially been annoyed, terrified, then mildly attracted, and now . . almost indifferent.

“you’ve got my full attention.”

“we’ll let you live, on one condition,” satoru raises a finger before you can object, while suguru’s eyes covertly sweep over your body. “think you could handle us at the same time?”

a proposition for a threesome is something you certainly did not see coming! you bite the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to maintain composure. suguru spices it up with a smirk, dragging that sharp knife of his along the edge of your jaw.

“you’ll have to fuck like your life depends on it.”

it does. tension weighs the air down, filling the room with a thickness even suguru’s knife couldn’t cut through. sweat beads along the skin of your spine and you exhale in defeat. being between these two would be hard—in all ways possible; but one mistake and they’d probably end up slitting your throat.

truthfully, you’re willing to risk it. most girls don’t usually cross paths with two men that are each extremely attractive and willing to share you between one another. you squeeze your thighs together, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

“y-yeah, okay. i’ll do it.”

“atta girl,” satoru praises, the corners of his eyes crinkling. a wicked smile finds its way onto his rosy lips, but you don’t back down, instead spreading your legs. you look between them, a silent invitation extended in one glance.

“lie back for us.”

“you were the one who told me to sit up—” perhaps the unnecessary snark isn’t a good idea, not with the way suguru eyes you warily.

satoru leans in hastily, connecting his lips with yours to effectively shut you up. his body barrels into yours, pushing you into suguru, who catches you and cages you against his strong chest. the knife is abandoned as he strokes his fingertips along the tender skin of your neck, sighing into your ear while satoru occupies your lips.

“so pretty. heh, you’re pretty every night.”

suguru’s touch has you letting out a moan that satoru eagerly swallows, his gloved hands roaming your body. however, he seems to remember he’s got gloves on; without pulling away, he snatches them off.

“her tits, suguru—play with her tits.”

the mumbled words are audible only to suguru, who complies with a chuckle. unlike satoru, he makes no move to do away with his gloves. you moan, his hands squeezing at your tits while his fingertips stroke over your nipples until they grow hard.

“s-suguru,” you mewl, pulling away for a moment to suck a breath into your deprived lungs, “keep touching me there—just like that.”

satoru’s palm comes down hard against the side of your thigh, and he grips your face, forcing you to look at him. “focus on me, got that? wouldn’t want him to stop, would you?”

you shake your head, and in a split second, satoru’s got your upper lip between his teeth. he bites down playfully; the impact makes you gasp, and he seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. arousal pools in your panties, and you fidget in your spot between them, hoping that you’ll finally get the attention you’ve been craving sooner rather than later. suguru’s tongue drags against your neck while he takes in the scent of your body wash from earlier’s shower. there’s a cool sensation coming from the center of his tongue—you can feel a firm ball of some kind.

it’s a little shameful, getting this hot and heavy from a simple kiss. only, his tongue rolls against yours, and any semblance of embarrassment melts away. suguru’s fingers pinch both of your nipples at the same time, sending shockwaves right to your pussy.

“fuck,” you sob into satoru’s mouth, practically lightheaded from how overwhelming it already is, as well as the lack of air. “i-i need more.”

suguru hums, continuing to toy with your hardened nipples. “already slutting yourself out for us, sweetheart? that was fast, wasn’t it?”

satoru finally draws back, a glossy string of spit connecting your lips to his. he doesn’t move just yet, savoring the moment like a piece of special candy—you’ve practically got hearts in your eyes, all hot and bothered because of him. well, suguru is a factor, but he didn’t put in nearly as much work as satoru.

“lie back for us, babe.” this time you don’t fight them on it, scooting off suguru so you can comfortably prop yourself up on the mountain of pillows.

“tsk. this dress ought to go.” suguru brandishes his knife, and cuts through the satin material of the slip as easily as a stick of butter.

“hey!” you snap, the remains of your dress sliding off to the sides of the bed like rags. “what about you two!? you can’t just cut up my clothes like that when neither of you are naked!”

satoru rolls his eyes, tossing your legs apart. meanwhile, suguru clearly isn’t done with that knife; he trails it along the slopes of your naked body, the edge of the blade sharpened in a way that has you gasping. he applies a little bit of pressure, and your skin splits like it would after a paper cut.

“a-are you cutting my skin open?” you ask incredulously. you know the answer, but for whatever reason, you don’t pull away from him.

“maybe,” he replies breezily. “‘s nothing deep. you can handle it, can’t you, honey?”

“would you look at that?” satoru wolf whistles, and heat rises to your cheeks as he gathers your legs together, tugging them up. the knife pauses at your collarbone as suguru leans backwards to take a look, and his eyebrows raise immediately.

“she’s fucking soaked.”

“put the knife down ‘n come give it a taste.”

satoru’s request is breathless, but effective. the knife falls onto the blankets, and for a moment you use your head to consider what might happen in the future—someone could sit on that thing, lie down on it. satoru’s tongue rips the thought out of your head and replaces the words that were on the tip of your tongue with a sweet moan of bliss. your clit throbs at the prospect of more, and their balmy puffs of breath fanning over you only arouse you further.

their faces press together, side by side as they start to eat your pussy in a way that immediately has your back arching and hips bucking. satoru focuses all his attention on your clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over it while suguru slurps up all of your slick. there it is again, that cool sensation—he’s got a tongue piercing. the moonlight shines through the flowy curtains, illuminating the killers in an almost angelic glow . . maybe they’re actually pussy killers.

“‘s like fucking candy,” satoru moans, tongue dipping down to gather up your slick. it bumps into suguru’s, and he only lets out a laugh that sends vibrations through your entire core. “sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted, shit.”

the room fills with the lewd, nasty sounds of their slurping and licking as they devour your pussy together. you slip a finger between your teeth and bite down once one too many noises threaten to escape you, and suguru pulls back to land a smarting slap on your pussy.

“ah ah. do not try to go quiet on us.”

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you stutter dumbly, mind and body reeling from the delicious sting of the slap.

“we want you screaming,” he emphasizes, spitting onto your cunt and watching as it flutters, the glob slipping down more rapidly due to the movement. “and you will be, by the end of all this. understand, doll?”

you nod hastily, and his eyes flick upwards to your face, the hardness in them a simple warning. “yeah, i understand.”

satoru’s drawing hearts and letters on your clit, each one making you shudder more than the last. each drag of his tongue makes him moan as he takes in more of your taste. beside him, suguru’s dips his tongue between your folds, the sensation nothing more than a tease. they plan to split you open on their cocks, and getting you desperate for it is only the first step of their plan.

“ngh, t-that’s so fucking good,” you cry, thighs quaking on either side of their heads. “please, i’m gonna cum.”

“give it to us,” satoru is the first to speak, his voice clear as it cuts through the lewd sounds in the air. he’s got one hand on the side of your thigh, holding you open just for them. “on our tongues, like a good girl.”

satoru’s ministrations on your clit grow more insistent; he’s working to pull your orgasm from you, while suguru continues to slurp at your messy pussy, his eyes falling shut. a familiar and overwhelming sensation coils in your tummy; it’s one that has your hands flying to both suguru and satoru’s heads, fingers finding purchase in their hair.

“i—i think ‘m gonna cum,” you cry, back arching off the bed while your hips jolt forward into their faces. after hearing the first word of your delirious warning, satoru replaced his tongue with his finger and moved beside suguru, the two of them slurping all your cunt has to offer. to them, it’s like drinking ambrosia.

you’re pulling hard at their hair, only encouraging them to groan against you. suguru speaks, eyes rolling back from just a little hair pulling. but it makes sense, with hair like that. of course his scalp is very sensitive.

“cover us in your cum, baby.”

obedient and right on time, your pussy gushes, hole fluttering around nothing while your clit throbs beneath satoru’s finger. the intense orgasm has left you twitching from the aftershocks, gasping for breath, and overly sensitive. of course, satoru and suguru take advantage of the aforementioned sensitivity with smirks on their faces.

“no, wait, i-i just came,” is all you can sob, your hands smacked away once you try to tug them off your aching cunt. “satoruuu, suguruuu.”

suguru only laughs, mimicking your tone with a roll of his eyes. “aw, babyyy. that’s too bad, isn’t it?”

with how sensitive you are, it’s not hard for them to drag a second orgasm out of you. this time, a few tears cascade down your cheeks as you fall over the edge with a pitched cry. satoru spanks your still twitching cunt and laughs at the way you gasp and recoil, legs still trembling.

“suguru, whatcha think? you wanna take her mouth ‘n i’ll fuck her pussy?”

“that’s far too considerate, satoru.” he shakes his head, talking about you as if you’re not in front of them. “c’mon,” suguru purrs, gesturing for you to get up as he slips off his robe and boxers. “lie on top of me.”

you can’t help but ogle, a little starstruck by his body and the thrill of everything. he sticks out his tongue playfully when he notices you staring, the metal ball in his tongue gleaming. his abs flex and his cock bobs as he lays down on your bed, beckoning you over with a gloved finger. satoru gulps, panting softly at the sight. following his best friend’s lead, he slips off his matching clothing and mounts the bed, which sinks under his weight with a creak. part of you wonders if the bed frame will give out by the end of this.

“hand me the lube,” suguru grunts, catching the small bottle in his larger hand. the liquid is cool, even through the leather of his gloves. he rubs his fingers together to warm it up a little for you. his fingertips prod at the tight ring of your asshole, and you let out a squeak of surprise.

“c’mon. relax for me, doll.”

you take a breath, body sweltering with arousal. this is certainly new for you, but you don’t complain—and anyway, the slight coolness of the lube feels good against your hot skin. satoru bites down on his lower lip as he watches his best friend prep you to take both of their cocks at the same time. something wicked has the corners of his lips curling up into a smile as he pictures you screaming for them.

likely picturing the same thing, suguru tongues at your jaw, kissing the tender skin wetly before nipping hard. you can only cry out, his lips serving as a simple distraction while his fingers push inside and stretch you out.

you gasp, and he feels you squeeze down hard on his fingers, hips jerking away. “come now, don’t run from it,” suguru coos, twisting his body beneath you to angle you the right way again. he ignores your whining, and satoru silently strokes his cock to the sight. “i know, i know. just breathe for me, ‘kay?”

slowly, your body accommodates the new stretch without any more sting or discomfort. in fact, your hips begin to rock into his fingers, chasing them when he starts to pull out.

“i-i think she’s ready, suguru,” satoru finally speaks up, clearing his throat. his voice is a little choked, and you can clearly see the flush on his cheeks even in the dark. “for both of us.”

“you hear that, honey?” his warm breath fans over the shell of your ear, making you shudder against him. “let’s see who can make you scream the loudest—me or satoru.”

“as if,” the man in question huffs, pushing your thigh to the side and looking over your dripping pussy with an obvious hunger. “fuck, baby. i’m gonna ruin you.”

with that, satoru grasps his cock and guides it inside your needy cunt. suguru does the same, pushing his length into your ass. the three of you moan collectively, a harmony if ever there was one. you sob, tears burning at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of the stretch.

satoru grits his teeth and grips your hips for support, then pushes all the way inside you. he bottoms out easily, his cock sliding against suguru’s, separated only by a thin layer of tissue. so thin that they can feel the shape of one another’s cocks through you.

“fuckin’—shittt, oh my god,” satoru’s easily overwhelmed, heart pounding in his ears while sweat covers his entire body in a sticky sheen.

suguru bites your neck hard, but the pain registers as pleasure despite the fact that he tastes a few irony drops of blood on his tongue.

“do either of you plan to move?” you complain, lips parting in an ‘o’ shape around a whiny moan. “or are we just gonna sit here—”

“shut the fuck up,” suguru groans, clapping a dry and gloved hand over your tits before squeezing them. “we’ll move when we fucking feel like it.”

waves of almost euphoria wash over your entire body, leaving you breathless and panting. when you’d first met these two, you’d been sharp and aware of your surroundings, but now everything is hazy and your body burns as though you have a fever.

the bed creaks dangerously as satoru jumps into action, slowly rocking his hips into yours with a few choked, wanton moans. before long, he’s more confident, fucking into you with a tight grip on your skin and at an invigorated pace. you’re so hot and oh so tight—satoru fucking loves it—you feel perfect. he loves the way you squirm on top of his best friend, hips canting forward eagerly to meet his. the evidence of how good he’s making you feel is painted all over your face, apparent in the wobble of your lower lip and the tears in your eyes.

you hear a sigh from behind you. “can’t lose the bet,” suguru’s voice is laced with faux sympathy. it takes him a few seconds, but he finally starts moving, groaning in approval at the shake of your body and gasping, ragged breaths.

above you, sweat rolls down satoru’s face, the snowy tips of his hair sticking to his forehead while others fall in front of his eyes. “y-you like it like this, baby?” the question is rhetorical, but your whimpering tells him everything he needs to know. the corners of his lips curl into a smile that’s soon wiped away by overwhelming pleasure. “you’re taking us so fuckin’ well, sweetheart . . driving me insane, goddamn.”

“i second that,” the metal ball of suguru’s piercing clicks as he sweeps his tongue over his teeth, panting hard into your ear. “really, baby . . feel like the luckiest fuckin’ guy in the world right now, heh.”

as if you’re not the luckiest girl—being sandwiched between these two is a dream you didn’t even know you had. inside you, their cocks throb against one another, dragging in and out of your holes ruthlessly. the tempo only speeds up, becoming too much too quickly.

you nudge a weak, clammy hand against satoru’s waist, arching your back on top of suguru and nearly nailing him in the face with a reverse headbutt. before the latter can say anything, satoru snatches your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, then pins it down to the bed. he advances forward, his chest now against yours to keep you still.

“ah ah,” he tuts, his nipples hard as they press against yours, “move your damn hand, baby. this is what you wanted, remember?”

“i certainly do,” suguru titters, nipping at your earlobe. “don’t be like that. you can take it, can’t you?”

his words are convincing; he’s got you nodding in acceptance. he’s right, of course. this is what you wanted earlier��you’ve been taking both of their cocks so fucking well. just as you tell yourself you’ll make it through this, satoru’s fingers ghost along the soft skin of your stomach. despite the exhaustion that’s setting into his body, his hips don’t even stutter as he focuses on your swollen clit.

“oh . . oh my god,” the words are torn from your throat, which only grows more sore with all the noise you can’t seem to stop making. a familiar shakiness settles in your voice, and you’re fighting to keep the breath in your lungs, but it escapes you far too easily. “i’m-‘m gonna cum for you, ‘m—”

as you hurtle closer to all encompassing euphoria, the sounds of skin slapping against skin fade out and grow foggy. yet, you manage to hear their voices eagerly spurring you on, the two of them in the same boat as you.

“yeah, ‘s right. fuckin’ cum for us, baby.” satoru’s own orgasm creeps up on him, his head tipping back as your pussy starts to flutter around his cock. of course, suguru can feel the throbbing of his best friend’s cock and the quavering of your needy pussy. he releases your tits, seeing the bruising he’s left before squeezing his eyes shut in concentration.

“ya heard him, honey,” he utters after a long groan, his voice low and husky. “take all of our fucking cum.” you gasp out, nodding your head frantically as you teeter over the edge.

everything happens fast, and all at the same time. satoru cums inside you, his broad shoulders shaking as he rides it out while your pussy practically milks him for more. your cunt spasms, hips jerking upwards from the intensity of it. the movement pushes out suguru, his cum leaking out of your bruised ass and spilling in white puddles on his pelvis.

satoru looks down, biting down on his lower lip as he pulls his cock from you. this is quite the reward, seeing cum pour from both of your spent and twitching holes. your shuddering, sweltering body finally begins to cool after what feels like hours. suguru’s exhausted, but he kindly lifts you and lays you down on the bed beside him. satoru flops down beside you with a heaving sigh, only to lay on the knife from earlier.

“ow, fuck!” he jolts, sitting up and tugging the sharp blade from where it’s tangled in the sheets. he unceremoniously hurls it to the floor, laying back down with a vengeful huff.

you’re too tired to laugh, but a small smile plays on your lips. “do you still wanna kill me?”

“not right now,” suguru throws an arm over his face, gesturing in the direction of the floor. “the knife’s down there, anyway.”

you sit up, craning your neck to take a look. from what you can see, the floor is littered with their dark costumes and two masks, the knife completely out of sight. “i don’t see it.”

“hm, remember we talked about making you scream for us?” satoru speaks up, and in your dizzy haze, you don’t notice that glint in his eyes.

“uh, yeah, i think so? i thought you already did.”

“don’t you watch scary movies?” suguru scoffs, looking at you from beneath his forearm. “you should know what happens next.”

you laugh, rolling your eyes. “yeah, whatever. what happens next, you kill me? very funny. let me convince you again,” and you clear your throat. “no, please don’t kill me, mr. ghostface! i wanna be in the sequel!”

satoru simply shakes his head, and the knife plunges into your back. with a gasp, you sputter out a few garbled words, blood pouring down your bare back as you fall backwards onto the bed. you writhe on the mussed sheets, blood spilling from your lips and trickling down your chin in vermillion rivulets. beside you, the blood covered suguru and satoru let you struggle aimlessly until your body stills; then they slip their masks on again . .

“andddd cut!” the director jumps from his seat with proud claps, and the production assistants rush in from every direction to help clean up the mess.

“satoru, fuck! that knife was so sharp,” you sit up, sending a glare his way as you wipe the fake blood off your skin. despite being a fake knife, the shiny plastic point was rather jagged.

“excellent performances, the three of you! our halloween special is sure to be a hit!” the director is gushing as he praises the three of you.

“yeah, yeah,” suguru says, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “i’ve gotta take a shower. seriously, the corn syrup is so fucking sticky.”

#kurooh #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #jujutsu kaisen imagines #smut #ghostface #geto suguru x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic

4K notes · View notes

whosmariaaa · 3 months ago

Text

— part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 !

— cw :: suggestive, murder, violence, attempted roofie

college! sukuna was not planning on giving up on you any time soon, no matter how upset you were. to put it simply, he was obsessed. checking your socials all the time, still trying to reach out every single day.

no girl had ever gotten under his skin like this. no one had ever made him feel like this. he didn’t even know he was capable of feeling like this about someone. and sukuna would be damned if he let you go now.

though it barely seemed to be working, because you weren’t falling for it. didn’t exactly stop him, as you would think, but gojo and toji decided to help him out for once.

they were in the lockers after basketball training, gojo and toji yapping about one of the cheerleaders. sukuna wasn’t listening. he was thinking about you, of course. how the hell could he not get you off his mind? did you put a spell on him or something?

then, gojo sat down next to him. “yo, sukuna. toji and i were thinking,” he started.

“shocking. didn’t think you two fucking idiots were even capable of that,” he sneered. gojo’s eye twitched, but he continued nonetheless.

“it’s kind of sad to see you still chasing y/n even after all that shit went down, and you’re kind of pathetic about it too,” gojo told him.

“kind of? you’re really fucking pathetic about it. seriously man, i’m pretty sure you’ve killed people before, and you’re all soft hearted for a girl who hasn’t shown you a speck of attention,” toji criticized.

feeling irritation rise, sukuna was about to snap back, but gojo quickly interrupted, “what toji’s trying to say, is that we want to help you. you’re our best friend for a reason,” he explained.

“why don’t you try to shit you used to pull with other girls? pretend like you don’t care, and they come running back, always works, right?” gojo added, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

sukuna scowled, “you two know how i feel about y/n. she isn’t just a quick fuck. and how the hell would that even work when she doesn’t even look my way?”

“yeah, we get it. but you should try it. because what you’re doing right now isn’t working for shit,” toji replied, sitting down next to gojo.

when sukuna went back to his dorm, he thought about it. maybe, it could work. maybe, it’d catch your attention. maybe it’s not such a bad idea.

so, plan in action, he stopped coming to you every single day. he practically was ignoring you now. he stopped talking to you altogether. stupid as it sounds, it was starting to piss you off. you had every right to ignore him. he in fact did not. was this perhaps a little petty? sure. did you care? no.

but, much to sukuna’s dismay, you let it rest. he had gotten on your nerves enough. he was finally leaving you alone, so you might as well take peace in it.

your not-so-secret admirer was however not taking peace in it, at all.

“damn, she’s still not crawling back?” toji noted, scratching his head when he saw how infuriated sukuna was with the entire situation.

“she’s just playing hard to get,” gojo replied, “she’ll be on her knees before you know it!”

honestly, sukuna would be on his knees for you a whole lot sooner than you would be for him. gojo and toji knew that too, but they were a little afraid of their friend breaking, so they were trying to keep their hopes high.

“no, she won’t. why the fuck did i fall for such a fucking bitch?” he scoffed.

“yeah, she is kind of bitch, though—” gojo laughed.

“don’t fucking talk about her like that,” sukuna warned firmly, grabbing gojo by the collar again.

“you literally said it first—”

“shut the fuck up.”

sukuna was again pried off gojo by toji, before he actually hurt him. though his friends finally stopped being asses about the entire situation, he still felt like losing his shit.

and that feeling continued when even the week after that, you didn’t seem to be losing sleep at all over his absence, while he definitely was over yours (you were actually still feeling petty he was ignoring you now, but you didn’t show it). it was ridiculous. why was he so infatuated with you? sukuna didn’t even know himself, and yet, he couldn’t bare to let you go. he was hooked.

he needed to get his mind off things. when toji invited him to a frat party, he immediately decided to go. last time he went was weeks ago, and he wanted to take his mind off things. what better way to do that than with alcohol, weed, and girls?

when he arrived at the party, gojo gave him a few shots to ease up. and sukuna immediately had his eyes on a girl, pretty, nice body. he just needed some more alchohol and weed to soothe the weird ache in his chest when he thought of other girls. girls that aren’t you.

though, that didn’t matter now. he took a few more shots, took a few blows of toji’s blunt, and went over to the girl. they talked for a bit, he was charming, and before they knew it, the girl was in his lap, making out with him while the music blared in their ears.

when she separated for some air, sukuna looked at her with his intense red eyes, then looked around his surroundings a bit. that’s when he saw you. you were chatting with some friends, but then your gazes met. neither of you were looking away, for a good 8 seconds.

“hey, c’mon babe, we can go upstairs to a room,” the girl whispered in his ear, dragging him back to reality. a scowl appeared on his face. he wasn’t thinking about sex, and definitely not with her.

which was strange, the old sukuna would’ve flashed her his signature grin and took her upstairs without a doubt. it seems you’ve genuinely tainted his mind. for the better or worse, he didn’t know.

he pushed her off his lap. “the fuck are you talking about?” he snarled. she gasped, catching herself barely as he went on his feet. he didn’t spare her a second glance as he went over to you, which is exactly when you two locked eye contact again.

“and what do you want?” you huffed impatiently, though the intense eye contact made you slightly nervous. huh? since when did sukuna make you nervous?

“why the hell are you here?” he demanded. you rolled your eyes, “and why does that concern you?”

he took a step closer, dangerously close as he hovered over you. “don’t play fucking games with me, y/n. i’m not in the mood. let me repeat myself, why the hell are you here?”

you furrowed your eyebrows. “because it’s my friends party? what’s your problem?” you responded.

“my problem is that you’ve been ignoring me for weeks, and i’m fucking sick of it. it was just a project, and you’re such a bitch about it,” he sneered.

“i had every right to be pissed about it, and you know that too. and i didn’t want to talk to you, because you’re an ass, but apparently you’re just stupid and can’t take a hint,” you snapped back, starting to feel annoyed again.

now you didn’t care about the unbroken eye contact, or your friends staring wordlessly, because this man was a champion at getting on your nerves.

“cry me a damn river. maybe you’re just a pissy bitch that can’t handle when life doesn’t go her way,” he scoffed.

you suppressed an offended gasp, but you definitely weren’t suppressing the slap you were about to give this man again. but, just when you were about to hit his cheek, sukuna caught your wrist, in a bruising grip too.

“don’t even fucking think about it. i’m not letting you get away with shit anymore, be glad i’m not breaking your wrist,” he warned. you were silently glaring at him, and he was glaring right back.

then, he dropped your wrist and walked off. “asshole…” you mumbled under your breath. seriously, what was his problem?

safe to say, both of you spend your night at the party away from each other. sukuna making out with several different girls, even around 2AM taking another upstairs, needing to think about something else.

you, however, spend your night with your friends, drinking a few shots, but not too much to get drunk or anything. you were trying not to think of his words, but damn they kind of hurt.

your friends eventually went back to their dorms. they asked you several times if you wanted to come too, but you knew that if there wasn’t any loud music, talking and drama surrounding you, you’d probably wallow in silence, so you refused and stayed. maybe you’d find some distraction, who knows?

and as if someone heard your thoughts, next to you suddenly sat a man with blue hair and pale skin.

“you look distressed,” he commented. was it really that obvious?

“nah, it’s nothing, really,” you smiled, shrugging it off. the guy smiled back, letting the topic rest.

“uh huh, y/n right?” he asked. “people know you’re off limits, because you’re apparently sukuna’s girl. but what i saw from earlier, that’s not so true, is it?”

your smile disappeared, and you rolled your eyes. “seriously? that’s what he’s been telling people? what a loser, honestly,” you grumbled. the guy chuckled.

“so it’s not wrong for me to assume you’re single?” he questioned. your eyes shot to him. maybe he was the distraction you were desperately needing.

“huh, no, not at all. what’s your name, then?” you queried.

he rested his chin in the palm of his hand, looking at you with a charming grin. “mahito, nice to meet you, y/n,” he greeted. you smiled at him. you did recognize his name. it gave you a suspicious feeling, but it was merely fleeting, so you shrugged it off.

you two talked for like an hour or so. mahito was a nice guy, but he did give you the creeps with what he was saying from time to time. but it was probably just the alcohol in your system, so you shrugged it off.

then, he eventually went off and got drinks for the both of you. you quickly checked your phone.

“hey babe, hope ur feeling better by now, lemme know how the parties going xxx” your friends text read. you smiled at the sweet message, and quickly texted back about the tea, telling about how you met a new guy.

then, a few seconds after you send press and shut your phone off, he sat down next to you again. the two of you continued talking, and you took a few sips of your drink. but as the minutes past by, suddenly you felt like things were spinning. you felt dizzy.

your heart sank.

with quick thinking, you got on your feet and excused yourself to the bathroom with a calm smile. you were anything but calm. you couldn’t think clearly. you went into the bathroom, locking the door.

had he put something in your drink? had he drugged you? did he attempt to roofie you? you were panicking. all of your friends had gone to their dorms, and they would never make it on time. you didn’t know a soul in this party, and everyone was either drunk or stoned. what the hell were you supposed to do? and when mahito was going to inevitably notice you were gone for too long… you were starting to hyperventilate.

your head was spinning like crazy, and you felt your throat close up.

sukuna wasn’t focusing on shit right now. he had a girl on his dick, but he still felt slightly off. but he forced himself to enjoy it nonetheless. that was until his phone rang. he hung up without looking at the name. it was probably gojo or toji trying to pester him. then, his phone went off again, and again.

“who the hell is that?” she asked, breathlessly but still irritated.

he didn’t even care to reply to her. when his phone went off once more, he let out an annoyed sigh and looked at the name. it was you. he felt his irritation rise.

but he did pick up after two rings. “what the fuck do you want, y/n? if it wasn’t clear already, don’t try shit right now,” he snapped angrily.

it was silent on the other end of the line. sukuna was tempted to hang up, until he heard a little sob. he suddenly felt a rush of confusion, and maybe even concern.

“where are you?” you sniffled quietly.

“still at the party,” he replied as he sat up. the girl, just as stoned and tipsy as him, looked at him confusion.

“please help me, sukuna. i don’t know what the fuck happened, but i— i was talking with this guy, mahito or something, and i think he put something in my drink,” you stuttered out. his breath hitched slightly at the implication, and then he felt his fists clench, a wave of anger hit him.

sure, you guys were fighting, or whatever it was, but that man was still head over heels, no matter how much he wanted to push it down. and he was going to beat this guy to death for ever thinking he could touch you.

sukuna had already pushed off two other girls for you before, might as welk make it three. the girl whined drunkly, but he couldn’t care less. he pulled on his boxer and pants, and quickly threw on a shirt.

“where the fuck are you?” he asked, his tone dangerously low as he left the room, not looking back at the girl.

“bathroom d— downstairs,” you stammered. things were going fuzzy, some parts of your vision even black. you could barely keep your eyes open. “please hurry,” you cried softly.

and that tone, that panicked, helpless tone set something off in him. he was downstairs in just a few seconds, roughly shoving aside anyone in his way. no one dared to say anything, because no one had ever seen sukuna this angry before. people around fell into a tense silence, wondering what the hell happened.

as soon as he saw the bathroom door, he went to open it. and when it didn’t budge, he slammed his fist into the wooden door without a doubt, and turned the lock from the inside. his fist was covered with his blood, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

then sukuna saw you, on the floor, barely conscious. you were trembling, big tears rolling across your cheeks. it was so unlike you. you were always so fierce, and just then, he decided that he loathed seeing you cry.

he grabbed you, an arm around your waist. “it’s okay, baby, i’m here. no one’s fucking touching you,” sukuna reassured. you felt… safe in his arms, as much as you hated to admit it.

“i still fucking hate you, don’t get me wrong,” you mumbled, though your voice cracked slightly.

“uh huh, sure thing, baby,” he replied. but then, everything went black. sukuna had made it on time, but he felt a strange ache in his heart thinking about what if he hadn’t. he picked you up, weirdly gently for his doing, and went to the other side of the house, where he knew toji and gojo were at.

“yo, sukuna, we heard you finally had sex with a girl aga— is that y/n?” gojo questioned, flabbergasted. toji immediately turned his head.

“what the hell happened?” toji asked, immediately stepping over.

“some fucking idiot roofied her. take her to my car,” he ordered, putting you in toji’s arms. but gojo and toji were too slow for his liking.

“i’ll shoot both of you in the fucking head if you don’t get her out of here in two seconds,” sukuna said in a tone that told them he wasn’t playing around.

“chill out, man,” toji replied, though he was already on the move. sukuna had threatened them many times, but this was different. he was genuinely angry now, and he could get dangerous when he was.

“you’re going to kill that guy, aren’t you?” gojo asked, his usual teasing tone gone. he was dead serious. sukuna’s silence told him all he needed to know. gojo nodded and went after toji.

as soon as they were out of the frat house, he turned on his heel and approached the first person he saw.

“where’s mahito?” he asked. everyone knew the guy, everyone but apparently you. he was a real creep on campus. he’d never roofie anyone before, but honestly, no one’d put it past him.

“uh, in the bathroom. the same bathroom of which you kicked my door down, by the way, you’re paying for that—” the guy started, but sukuna’s menacing stare shut him up real quickly.

and just like he said, there mahito was. in the bathroom where you said you were going a while back, he looked around in confusion, oblivious to the storm behind him.

just when he was about to turn around, his head smashed into the stone-tiled wall three times, the white tiles now colored red.

“you fucking dumbass,” mahito heard in his ear as he was turned around, his back now slammed against the wall. a strong hand on his throat keeping him there.

“well, well, well, if it isn’t sukuna,” mahito taunted playfully, as if he didn’t have blood dripping down from his forehead. “was starting to wonder when you’d start looking for your little y/n,” he added.

“say her name again, i fucking dare you,” he snarled. mahito knew better than that.

“i’m just saying, i could’ve had a great time with her, until you had to go and ruin things,” mahito teased, flashing him a sickening smile. then a harsh left hook to his face shut him up, sending even more splatters of blood to the wall.

“let’s see if you can talk this tough when we’re outside,” sukuna replied, his tone scarily even. just like that, he dragged mahito outside, not like anyone was watching anyways because everyone went back to partying.

sukuna beat him up till he was bloody and bruised, and even then he didn’t stop. it was a gory sight, one that would’ve made anyone sick. he didn’t care, even as mahito’s face was crooked from amount of punches he had taken. mahito couldn’t even scream or beg for his life anymore, even though he was in excruciating pain. he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.

he had no mercy. his hands were painted red from mahito’s blood, he punched until there was practically nothing to punch anymore. and then, nothing. he wasn’t breathing anymore, no pulse.

sukuna had indeed killed people before, he wasn’t ashamed of it. toji and gojo had done so too, none of them had been caught before. none of the other murders were necessary, just guys who pissed them off. but mahito?

he crossed a line thinking he could hurt you. no matter how much you hated him, sukuna was scarily attached to you ever since that day you called him out. so much so that he would apparently kill for you. romantic, no?

as he stared at mahito’s mangled face, he suddenly got a call from gojo. “what?” sukuna grumbled.

“y/n woke up a few minutes ago, she’s asking for you, well, more like demanding,” gojo replied. you were asking for him? that shamefully made his heart skip a beat.

“you kill the guy yet?” toji asked.

“yeah, we’re in the alleyway. can you guys clean this shit up and take him with your car? i’ll be with y/n in a second,” he proposed. they agreed, and before he knew it he was in his car with you in the passenger’s seat.

you were shaken up, confused, but you felt oddly safe. sukuna was quiet too, giving you time to process as he drived you to the dorms. you decided to not comment on his bloodied hands for your own sake.

and eventually, you found yourself in his dorm. you took a shower, and he gave you his hoodie to sleep in. he even gave you food and water.

all that frustration you felt for sukuna this past weeks, suddenly just disappeared. he had saved you, maybe even saved your life, and now he’s treating you so well.

sure, you were still upset about you failing your class, but you could finally forgive him for all that. honestly, if you told yourself a week ago that you forgave him, you wouldn’t possibly believe yourself.

and you would also never believe yourself if you said that you were now laying in sukuna’s bed, wrapped in his arms.

“how do you feel, baby?” he asked softly, a tone you’d never think he’d be able to use.

“could be better,” you murmured quietly. a silence fell over you two, it wasn’t uncomfortable. you didn’t feel uncomfortable either. who would’ve thought?

you looked up slightly at him, meeting his eyes. “thank you for all that,” you told him, smiling lightly. “i think i can perhaps, maybe forgive you now for that 49%.”

sukuna just slightly furrowed his eyebrows, before grabbing your chin and pulling you into a kiss. you leaned into it, not pushing him away.

he pulled away, looking into your eyes. “no one’s ever going to fucking hurt you again, i’m serious, you got that?” he promised.

“yeah. sounds pretty serious to me,” you replied, not being same to hide your smile. he just huffed, and kissed you again. a few hours later, you fell asleep in his arms.

now, college boyfriend! sukuna was the happiest man alive. he still dominated the basketball court, still got plenty good grades, had his best friends gojo and toji. and the one thing he will forever love most and cherish in life, you, his girl. and with that, sukuna was ready to kill and die for you, always.

──★˙🍓̟!! expectations were high for me, so i think i delivered guys!! genuinely proud of this one. this is kinda crazy since it’s the last part, and again i can simply not express how thankful i am for all of you!!!! and i HAD to eventually let sukuna do something violent for once, because it’s sukuna ofc. and no, i do absolutely not, ever ever, condone violence or murder!!!!! love sukuna to death but if he was real you wouldn’t catch me in a 100 km radius from him🥀🥀

— taglist ! @imlikeacoffeeconnoisseur @totallygyomeiswife @sukubusss @seizecherry @xlilycoco @v1x3n @go-go-gadget-autism @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @paradisestarfishh @misticsilver @whosmarjj @aquariusscollection @satorushousewife @rwirxles @anonnieghost @bitchpleaseeeeeeeeee @iminloveweveryone @poopooindamouf @phisen @ryomku @erintaro @clp-84 @mastermasterlist1p1 @katsukiseyebrows @iioveoldermen @happy2delivur @jup1tersuccubus @nxcxllxsevens @realalpacorn @kxgumi @crankyarchives @itsjustisa @junitries @kodzukensworld @desiretolive @bnbaochauuu @tomsxslvt @flwerie @bwlol7 @szuuyl @yourfavbabigirl @grignardsreagent @my-sin-my-soul-my-hell @nothankyew @yourangel04 🍓

1K notes · View notes

gf2bellamy · 4 months ago

Note

hiiii

i was wondering if i could request shy!bau!reader and post!prison spencer where he keeps their relationship a secret but reader gets insecure (because she thinks the relationship embarrasses him) but spencer keeps it a secret because he knows what happened to all his past relationships when he got other people involved

just want to see how that conversation would go with spencer reassuring reader and just being so in love

hidden — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader feeling insecure , they both slightly get emotional at some point but i promise there's lots of fluff a/n: hi hi ! ty ty for your request <3 also i'm so sorry this took so long i just found this in my drafts and i had completely forgotten to post this !! i hope you like this

You stood in Spencer’s kitchen, staring blankly at the kettle as it hissed and steamed, the water inside bubbling furiously.

The sound was loud, but it did little to pull you out of your thoughts.

Your mind was elsewhere, tangled in a web of overthinking that had started the moment you woke up—or rather, the moment you gave up on sleeping altogether.

It was early morning, and the sunlight streaming through the window felt too bright, too cheerful, for the storm brewing in your head.

You hadn’t slept. Not really.

You’d spent the night curled up in Spencer’s arms, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear, feeling the warmth of his body next to yours. It should have been comforting. It should have lulled you to sleep.

But instead, you had stared at the ceiling for hours, mind racing in endless circles, chasing a thought you couldn’t shake.

It was something small, almost insignificant, but it had burrowed under your skin and refused to let go.

You’d overheard a conversation between Spencer and a female officer at the local precinct. She’d been flirting with him—boldly, unapologetically—and while that wasn’t unusual (Spencer was, after all, undeniably attractive), it was his response that had stuck with you. When she’d asked if he had a girlfriend, he’d said no before politely turning her down.

Logically, you knew why he’d said it. You’d both agreed to keep your relationship private. But logic didn’t stop the question from creeping into your mind, unbidden and unwelcome:

Was he embarrassed of you? Did he regret this?

The thought felt ridiculous even as it formed. Spencer wasn’t the type to care about what others thought.

But no matter how much you tried to push the doubt away, it lingered.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice the kettle boiling over, the hot water spilling out and hissing as it hit the stovetop.

“Be careful!” Spencer’s voice cut through the fog in your mind.

You blinked, startled, and looked down at the mess you’d unintentionally created. The kettle was overflowing, steam rising in frantic curls, and you quickly stepped back, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Spencer rushed forward, his movements quick as he turned down the heat and moved the kettle to a cooler part of the stove. “Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched him. Your hands fidgeted at your sides, unsure of what to do with themselves.

He turned to you, his brow furrowed with worry as he took in your appearance. You looked exhausted—dark circles under your eyes, your hair slightly disheveled, and your shoulders slumped.

It wasn’t like you to wake up before him; in fact, Spencer hated waking up without you beside him. He loved the quiet moments in the morning, when the world was still soft and hazy, and he could just lie there with you, his arms wrapped around you, your head resting on his chest.

It was one of the few times he felt truly at peace.

But this morning had been different. He’d woken up alone, the space beside him cold and empty, and he’d known immediately that something was wrong.

Now, seeing you like this—distant, distracted, and clearly troubled—only confirmed his suspicions. You barely looked up at him, avoiding his analyzing gaze.

“Come on,” he said softly, his voice a gentle invitation as he reached out his hand to you. You hesitated for a moment, your eyes flickering to the kettle.

But then you slowly took his hand, your fingers trembling slightly in his grasp. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before leading you to the couch in the living room.

Spencer sat down first, before gently pulling you into his lap. You hesitated, as you always did, hovering your weight above him as though you were afraid of imposing.

It was a habit you’d never quite shaken, even after all this time together. Despite how long you’d been dating, there were still moments when you felt nervous.

It was endearing, but it also broke his heart a little. He never wanted you to feel anything less than completely at ease with him.

Spencer’s hands settled on your hips, his touch firm but gentle as he guided you down until your entire weight was settled in his lap.

You let out a small, shaky breath, your hands instinctively resting on his shoulders for balance. His eyes searched yours, his gaze soft but probing, as though he could see straight through to the heart of what was troubling you.

You shifted slightly under his scrutiny, your fingers nervously toying with the fabric of his sweater.

“So, what’s wrong?” Spencer asked, his voice gentle but insistent. His hazel eyes held that familiar, loving look—the one that always made you feel seen and understood. You hesitated, your gaze dropping to where your fingers fiddled with the edge of his sweater.

“Just having a bad morning, I think,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

It wasn’t entirely a lie.

But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, and you knew he wasn’t going to let this go.

After a moment, you sighed, your fingers tightening slightly in the fabric of his sweater. “It’s stupid,” you admitted, your voice hesitant.

Spencer’s lips quirked up just slightly, the ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

You huffed a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, but when you lifted your eyes to meet his again, your expression was hesitant.

His hands crept up under the hem of your shirt—well, his sweater that you’d borrowed—and you jumped slightly at the cool touch of his fingertips against your skin. “Your hands are cold,” you mumbled, though you didn’t pull away.

Spencer chuckled softly, his breath warm against your neck. “Yeah, well, I woke up in an empty, cold bed,” he said, his tone playful but laced with a hint of worry. “With no one to warm me.”

You smiled faintly at his teasing, but you could hear the underlying message in his words.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your hands moving to rest against his chest. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

Spencer’s expression softened, and he shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said, his voice gentle.“I just want to know what’s going on in that head of yours.” As he spoke, one hand made its way to your temple, tapping lightly against it in a playful gesture before brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“I just…” You exhaled, trying to gather your thoughts. “Sometimes, I get in my own head about things. Overthink them.”

Spencer nodded slightly, waiting for you to continue.

“Yesterday, you—” you started, then stopped abruptly, sighing loudly as the words caught in your throat.

Spencer didn’t interrupt, didn’t push. He just waited patiently.

“That officer asked you if you had a girlfriend,” you continued, your gaze dropping to his chest as your fingers nervously traced the fabric of his sweater. “And you said no. Which is fine,” you added quickly, your hands patting his chest lightly as if to reassure yourself as much as him. “But it just got me thinking that maybe you’re just…” You trailed off, the words sticking in your throat like they were too heavy to say out loud.

Spencer stayed silent, his hands resting gently on your hips, his thumbs tracing small, soothing circles.

“Embarrassed of me?” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper, the words coming out in a questioning tone, as though you were afraid of the answer.

“I mean, I’m not as—” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head, forcing the words out before you lost the courage to say them. “I’m not as outspoken or extroverted as the rest of the team. I don’t have the same kind of presence as JJ or Emily or even Penelope. And you—” You looked down at your fingers still clutching the hem of his sweater. “You’re you.”

Spencer’s brows pulled together slightly.

You let out a short, humorless laugh, gesturing vaguely at him. “You’re a literal genius. You’re brilliant and kind and incredible. It’s not like I don’t know that. But maybe compared to that, I just seem… small. Forgettable.”

You could hear the slight break in your own voice as you finished.

A heavy silence followed, stretching long enough that doubt started creeping in. You shifted slightly in his lap, suddenly feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way that made you want to pull away.

But Spencer didn’t let you.

His grip on your hips tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to hold you in place, to keep you from retreating.

And then, finally, he spoke.

“First of all,” he said, his voice steady, unwavering, “I need you to listen to me when I say this: I am not, nor have I ever been, embarrassed of you.”

Your breath hitched, but he didn’t stop. His eyes softened, his hands rubbing soothing circles into your hips.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering over your shoulder as if he were searching for the right words, but his hands never stopped their gentle, reassuring movements on your hips. His eyes met yours again.

“I just don’t want to risk what we have,” he said, his voice softer now, tinged with vulnerability. “I know what happens when people get involved—when things get messy. I’ve seen it happen too many times.” He paused, his expression clouding as though he were reliving memories he’d rather forget. “And I don’t want that for us. Because the thought of losing you—” His voice broke, and he didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

You felt your heart clench at his words.

“I love you,” he said, his voice steadier now, but no less heartfelt. “More than I’ll ever be able to put into words.” His hands moved to cradle your face, his touch so gentle it made your chest ache. “And I’m sorry that I made you feel like this,” he added, his voice thick with regret. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was trying to protect you.”

His apology was sincere, his eyes searching yours.

For a moment, you couldn't breathe. Every word felt like a soft anchor pulling you back from the edge of your doubts.

His hands were still cradling your face, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks, as though he were trying to wipe away every trace of doubt and insecurity that had taken root in your mind.

All you could do was stare into his hazel eyes. You just sat there for a moment, letting his words sink in.

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as the words left your lips.

Spencer’s expression softened at your words, his eyes reflecting a mix of relief and warmth.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his lips brushing against the tip of your nose as he spoke. “And I don’t ever want you to doubt that.”

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion as you leaned into him, your hands sliding up to rest against his chest. His arms enveloped you, pulling you close as he held you like he was afraid you might slip away. You let yourself melt into his embrace.

For a while, you just stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the moment stretch.

Finally, he pulled back just slightly, his hands lingering at your waist as he looked at you with that warmth, the one that always made you feel like you were home.

“How about we start this morning over?” he asked softly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

You gave him a small, shaky smile. “Yeah. I’d like that,” you murmured, your voice steadying now, as you felt the storm in your chest finally calm.

Spencer’s smile widened, and he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before standing up, taking your hand in his.

“Come on,” he said with a gentle tug. “Let’s make some tea. The right way this time.” His playful tone brought a smile to your face as you followed him into the kitchen, feeling lighter than you had in days.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic

1K notes · View notes

honeyryewhiskey · 5 months ago

Text

when dean falls in love

or, all the little details that run through dean's mind when he's falling in love. and all the fears and self-doubt that come crashing down on him. warnings ! a pinch of angst | mostly feel good | kissing | confessions | dean admiring reader | dean's internal struggles | reader being patient | sam third wheeling j's note ! this is my apology for that sad one i posted last night. also, i had little baby 26-year-old dean in mind for this one. enjoy <3 5k words

Few rules exist in Dean’s life—most are made to be bent, broken, or ignored altogether. But you?

You’re the exception. You’re the rule he refuses to cross.

You are entirely off-limits.

Not that you seem to care. You crashed into the Winchesters' world like a wildfire, all sharp eyes and steady hands, showing up guns blazing in the middle of a nasty hunt. There was no slow introduction, no time for cautious trust. One minute, it was just another night, another hunt—then suddenly, there you were, standing in the wreckage, breathing heavily, covered in blood that wasn’t yours.

Dean should’ve known to let go right then and there—you were too good to be true. But he didn’t. Instead, you stuck to the corners of his mind like sugar between his teeth, sweet and relentless. Your energy, raw and electric, burned through everything around you. You invaded his thoughts, wrapped around his mind like a constant hum.

You were the kind of girl who made a man forget his own damn rules.

At first, Dean tells himself this newfound trio is temporary.

You’re a lone wolf, and the Winchesters don’t do long-term attachments. But somehow, you weave yourself into their lives like you’ve always belonged.

You slip into the passenger seat of the Impala without waiting for an invitation, kicking your feet up on the dash just to piss him off. You steal fries off his plate like it’s second nature, smirking when he glares at you but never stopping. You roll your eyes at his bravado, call him out when he’s being an ass, and yet—when it matters—you’re always there. Ready to fight. Ready to bleed for this life, for them.

For him.

Dean tells himself he doesn’t notice the little things. The way you hum along to his rock tapes like you’ve known them forever, how your hands—so much softer than he deserves—patch him up without hesitation. The way you meet his teasing with just as much fire, never backing down.

None of it means anything.

Because it can’t.

Not when he’s always been too rough, too jagged around the edges to hold onto something as good as you. Somewhere around his twentieth birthday, he made peace with the fact that he was cursed—fated to be nothing more than a soldier, a brother, a blade meant for war.

Being anything else, wanting anything more—wanting you—would only end in tragedy.

But then he catches Sam talking to you in hushed voices over coffee in the morning, like you’re family. As if every diner table and wobbly motel kitchenette was always meant to sit the three of you. He watches you clean his gun without being asked, like it’s second nature now. He hears your voice on the other end of his phone at 3 a.m., always answering when he calls, asking if he’s okay after a rough hunt.

And just like that, you’re in. You’re a part of them.

A part of him.

And that? That’s the most dangerous thing of all.

Dean doesn’t know when it happened—when the lines started to blur, when the rule he swore by turned into something fragile, something breakable.

Maybe it’s the way you slip so effortlessly into their lives, settling into the spaces he didn’t even realize were empty—mediating brotherly arguments like you were always meant to be their missing piece. Maybe it’s the sound of your laughter, bright and unshaken, slicing through the heaviness of a bad hunt. Or maybe it’s the way you look at him, like he’s something more than the scars, more than the sharp edges—like he’s worth seeing at all.

Or maybe it’s the small moments like this.

The diner is warm, buzzing with the quiet hum of conversation, the clatter of silverware against plates. Sam’s focus is his laptop, half-listening to whatever you’re saying as you flip through the menu, sitting beside Dean, debating tonight’s meal. Dean’s trying to keep up, trying to ground himself in the normalcy of it all.

And then, without a second thought, you reach for his jacket.

It’s been draped over the back of the booth since he sat down, familiar and worn, carrying the weight of long nights and too many miles. And you just take it, slipping your arms through the sleeves, tugging the collar up like it belongs to you.

Dean’s fingers tighten around the menu.

It’s nothing new—he’s handed it over a dozen times before, thrown it around your shoulders without a second thought on cold nights. But this? This is different. You didn’t ask. Didn’t even hesitate. You just did it, like it was instinct, like it was yours.

He clears his throat, trying to force down the feeling clawing its way up his chest. “Comfy?”

You hum, settling into the fabric, your fingers curling into the sleeves. “Mmhmm.” Your voice is light, easy. “You always run so warm. Thought I’d steal a little of that.”

Dean swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. Prying his eyes off of you, he tries again to look like he’s reading the menu. Scanning the small font, even though he’s already decided on a burger and fries like he always gets.

Across from him, Sam sighs, clicking at his keyboard. “You guys do realize you act like a couple, right?”

Dean shoots him a glare. “Shut up.”

Your laugh falls out sweet and quiet, the sound pressing against his heart with a persistence to make it move faster. Your boot nudges Dean’s under the table, and he takes it as an excuse to look at you again. “You jealous, Sammy? Want me to steal your jacket next?”

Dean barely hears the response. He watches as you burrow further into his jacket, your nose dipping beneath the collar. Then, with that same mischievous glint in your eye that always spells trouble for him, you lift the collar to make a show of taking a slow, exaggerated sniff.

His brows press down, lashes forming a tight squint around his eyes as he braces himself, “What the hell are you doing?”

Your lips twitch like you’re holding back a laugh. “One thing about this old jacket, though,” you muse, taking another thoughtful inhale. “There’s this metallicy smell… buried under all that cologne you drown this poor leather in.”

Dean scoffs, shifting in his seat and turning his head to save himself from letting you see the pink creeping up his cheeks. “I do not drown it in cologne.”

Sam doesn’t even look up from his laptop, but his chuckle doesn’t help ease Dean’s embarrassment. “You kinda do.”

Dean’s head shoots up, tilting slightly as he glares at his brother. You’re already grinning, undeterred, your fingers lazily tracing the worn seam of the sleeve. “It’s faint, but it’s there. Like… gunpowder. And whiskey, I would assume. And maybe a little bit of blood?” Your teasing gaze flicks up to meet his, “What have you been getting into, Winchester?”

Dean should play it cool. Shrug it off. But he can feel his ears burning red and hot from that little teasing smile on your lips and his brain is a few steps behind, caught somewhere between you’re too damn close and when did this get so hard to ignore?

He leans back, arms crossing over his chest. His mind makes quick work to steady buzzing nerves, “Dunno what to tell ya, sweetheart,” he sighs, jaw popping as he finds his barings, “That jacket’s seen more action than you have.”

You feign offense, pressing a hand to your chest. “Wow. First, you over-season your leather, and now you’re just slinging insults?” You shake your head, dramatic as ever. “I thought we had something special, D.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitches. “Yeah, yeah. You done sniffin’ my jacket, or should I be concerned?”

You huff, settling back against the booth so that your arms brush against each other when you shrug. “I dunno. Might need another whiff.”

Dean points a warning finger at you, his smile breaks his attempt at stoicism, and all it does is make you grin wider.

Sam lets out another long-suffering sigh, shutting his laptop with a little more force than necessary. “I’m concerned. And I’m officially done with this conversation.”

You smirk, smug as ever, but Dean? Dean’s just trying to pretend he’s not completely, stupidly gone for you.

The rest of dinner passes in easy conversation—at least, for you. Dean is quieter than usual, letting you and Sam fill the space between bites of food and stolen fries. He tries to focus on anything else—the chipped laminate of the table, the hum of the old diner lights, the way his fingers tap absently against the side of his glass.

Mostly, he tries not to look at you.

Not when you lean forward, chin propped in your palm, laughing at something Sam says. Not when you nudge his boot under the table, stealing the last bite of his pie with a satisfied little smirk. Not when you adjust the lapels of his leather jacket like it’s yours now, like it belongs to you the way he does.

By the time the check hits the table, he’s still got too many thoughts in his head, and none of them are ones he should be having.

Outside, the night air is crisp, the motel’s flickering vacancy sign glowing just across the lot. Sam mutters something about research and trudges off toward their shared room, leaving the two of you lingering by the diner’s door.

Dean shoves his hands into his pockets, suddenly hyper-aware of how quiet it is. You shift on your feet, then tilt your head toward the motel.

“What’s it gonna be tonight, D?” Your voice is soft, slipping into the quiet like it belongs there. “You sticking around for a bit, or heading to bed?”

Dean exhales, shaking his head. “Gotta make sure you get in safe.”

Your laugh rings through the empty parking lot, light and easy, curling around him like warmth against the cool night air. And despite only wearing a flannel, despite the late hour and the breeze whispering through the lot, he feels nothing but warm.

“Ah, yes,” you tease between giggles, nudging his arm. “My knight in shining armor, always keeping me safe.”

The short walk across the lot is quiet but never empty—the kind of silence that lingers in the spaces between you, comfortable and charged all at once.

At your door, you unlock it with a flick of your wrist, pushing it open before leaning lazily against the frame. The dim motel light catches the amusement in your eyes as you glance back at him.

“See?” You gesture to the empty room with a grin. “All’s quiet on the western front.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves you off, stepping inside without a second thought, the door clicking shut behind him.

You move past him with easy familiarity, shuffling through your things while Dean leans against the dresser, arms crossed over his chest. He watches as you slip into your usual routine—kicking off your shoes, pulling your hair back, stifling a yawn with the sleeve of your sweater. His jacket, draped over the chair beside your bed, stays untouched. He doesn’t move to take it. If he’s honest, he kind of hopes you’ll sleep in it. Let it take on your scent instead of his.

When you return from the bathroom, fresh-faced and sighing contentedly, you crawl onto the bed and sit cross-legged, flipping absentmindedly through an old paperback—the one you grabbed from the library when you were supposed to be researching.

“You gonna tell me what’s got you so deep in thought tonight?” you break into the silence without looking up, voice soft but knowing.

Dean huffs, tipping his head back. He’s trying to find something other than you to look at, he’s gotta stop watching you so often. “I’m always deep in thought.”

You snort, “yeah, okay. Sure.”

Your eyes flicker over him, he’s always following you into your room like a stray pup, like he doesn’t know where else to go. He lingers in your space, but is careful to maintain a set distance. At first you thought he was trying to claim you as another notch on his bedpost, but all that ever happened on these nights were quiet talks until your eyes grew too heavy to keep open. And by morning, you’d be alone, tucked beneath the blankets like someone made sure they were pulled around you just right.

You watch him for a beat, noting the familiar tension winding through his shoulders. “Seriously, though. You were kinda out of it at dinner.”

Dean hesitates, glancing away like he can pretend he didn’t hear you. His eyes settle on the peeling motel wallpaper, tracing the cracks like they hold some kind of answer. He hadn’t planned on sticking around this late—not when his head is already full of you. Not when it’s dangerous for the sanctity his carefully drawn lines to be near you like this, feeling the way he does.

But neither of you move. You, cross-legged on the bed, book in hand. Him, still leaning against the dresser, pretending he has somewhere else to be.

He should make an excuse, crack a joke, steer this conversation somewhere safer. But your voice, soft and steady, tugs at something in him. And instead of fighting it, he lets himself lean in.

“You ever think about what happens when we stop?”

Your fingers still against the worn pages of your book. “Stop what?”

“This.” He gestures vaguely, like that explains everything. “The hunting, the moving around. All of it.”

Your brows furrow slightly as you consider his words, the weight of them pressing down in a way you don’t want to acknowledge. This life—it’s far from glamorous, but it’s all you’ve got. Stepping away from it is a thought you buried long ago, a fantasy that never had a chance. You shrug, pushing the thought aside. “I don’t know,” you say quietly. “Never really let myself think about it too much.”

Dean exhales a heavy breath, eyes dropping to the floor like the weight of your words is sinking in. “Yeah.”

A beat of quiet settles between you. It’s not uncomfortable, but there’s a weight to it that presses against Dean’s chest, making the space feel tighter than it is. You can feel his tension, like he’s holding something back, but he doesn’t look up.

Then, you shift, breaking the silence with an easy gesture—a pat to the empty space beside you on the bed. “Don’t just trail off on me, D. Sit down. Tell me more.”

Dean hesitates for a split second. This is a bad idea. It’s an invisible line he’s been toeing for too damn long, one he’s tried not to cross—never sit on the bed, never get too close when we’re alone. But then again, it’s you. You’re looking at him like you care, soft and patient, as if whatever’s inside his head actually matters.

And just like that, he gives in. One little exception, just for tonight.

With a quiet sigh, he pushes off the dresser, settling beside you on the bed. He stretches his legs out, but the small mattress makes it impossible to keep any real distance. His legs brush against yours, and his arm brushes yours too. He hopes to hell you don’t see the flush creeping up his neck.

If you notice, you don’t mention it. There’s no teasing, no playful smile—just the quiet comfort of your presence beside him. You don’t push, don’t pry. You just sit there, calm and steady, waiting for him to speak.

“I dunno,” he mutters, “just been thinkin’ lately. About what it all looks like when it’s over. If it ever is.”

You tilt your head, studying him. “And?”

Dean swallows, debating how much to say. How much to admit.

“And… I don’t see much of anything.” He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Spent my whole life doing this, I don’t see an ending where I’m not dying at the hands of this. Y’know, going down in the fight.”

You’re quiet for a moment, then—so softly he almost doesn’t notice—you shift closer, your arm snaking its way around his. You’re snuggled right up next to him, watching with careful eyes.

“There will always be monsters to hunt,” you murmur, your voice soft yet steady in the dim room. “But you don’t have to be a warrior forever, D. There will always be hunters, too. Doesn’t mean you have to be one.”

Dean chuckles, but it’s a hollow sound, more an exhale than a laugh. His gaze drifts toward the bedspread, unable to meet yours. "Yeah, well... I don't know if I could just walk away." His words come out quieter, like he’s unsure if he’s talking to you or to himself.

You turn slightly toward him, noticing the tension still coiled in his shoulders. The quiet settles deeper now, heavier with each passing moment, but he doesn’t seem to notice the distance between your words.

“What’s got you thinking about all of this?” you keep your voice light, though there’s a weight to it.

Dean rubs the back of his neck, his thoughts at war with the words he wants to say. "I can’t have the things I want, not really," he finally admits, the confession slipping out before he can second-guess it. His gaze drifts to the side, and his fingertips come up almost absentmindedly, dragging across your temple, pushing stray hairs back into their place.

“This life," he continues, barely above a whisper, "it consumes all the good things in my life."

“Not true,” your voice is firm but gentle, like you’re trying to remind him of something he can’t see.

He doesn’t answer immediately, just quirks a skeptical brow at you.

“You have your brother,” you continue, “and you’ve got me. Nothing in this universe can take us from you.”

Dean’s breath catches, and for the briefest moment, he wonders if you understand just how much weight those words hold. He swallows, trying to hold it together, but he can’t ignore the ache that creeps up his spine. He gives a small, almost rueful chuckle, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "What makes you so sure?"

You meet his gaze with a steady confidence. "Because I know you wouldn’t let it."

His hand lingers by your face, his thumb brushing softly against the warmth of your cheek. There’s an electricity in the touch, something that feels too close and yet too natural. He can feel the way his pulse quickens, how much his body wants to close that last inch of space between you. But he doesn’t.

You don’t push him. You just watch him, like you’re waiting for him to decide whether to take the step—or to retreat.

Dean’s breath catches in his throat, and his eyes drop to your lips for a moment before meeting yours again, like he’s trying to reconcile the gravity of what he’s feeling. His voice drops to almost a whisper, his words thick with something raw. “You have no idea how right you are, little miss.”

Your hand comes up, curling over his with a quiet, deliberate touch. The softness of your skin against his makes it almost impossible for him to remember the times he’s watched you move through the world—handling a gun with precision or a blade like it’s second nature. Most of you makes him forget, really, about everything that doesn’t involve you in this moment.

Your warmth, your softness, it makes him lose himself in daydreams of a version of you—one that doesn’t belong to this life. A version where you’d lean into that gentleness, the part of you that exists outside the hunts and the danger, in a life far away from the chaos that haunts him.

You shift, sitting up, still keeping your gaze on him, and it makes something in his chest tighten. The determined strain in your features catches his attention immediately. It’s the same look you get when you're deep into a lore book, your brow furrowed with that little scowl—like something has piqued your interest, and you won’t rest until you’ve unraveled it completely.

“Dean, there’s more to this than you’re letting on.”

He shakes his head, trying to brush it off with a quick, dismissive shrug, his lips pouting up into his best attempt at nonchalance. “Nope. That’s pretty much it.”

You let out an exasperated huff, and Dean can tell you’re seeing straight through him. It’s not enough to deflect you. What he doesn’t expect, though, is the rough shove to his shoulder. It makes him blink in surprise, but before he can recover, your fingers press right back into the tension of his muscles he’s been trying to ignore all night.

“You’re as stiff as a board,” you point out, your fingers digging in a little harder. “Something’s bothering you.”

His breath comes out shakier now, and for a moment, his whole body feels like it’s been wound too tight. You can feel it, he knows you can. There’s no denying it now, but the words feel too heavy in his throat. He wants to argue, to brush it off again, but something in the way you’re watching him shifts. It’s not just curiosity anymore—it’s concern. And maybe, just maybe, a part of him wants to let you in.

But damn if it doesn’t feel like a risk.

Dean shifts uncomfortably, trying to pull away, but the pressure of your fingers is a subtle anchor, keeping him there. His gaze flits to the floor, anywhere but your eyes, because once he looks at you, he knows he won’t be able to hide.

"I told you, it's nothing," he mutters, his voice rougher than usual, the words escaping before he can stop them. He tries to push himself up, but the weight of your stare presses him back down.

You don’t buy it. You never do.

"No, Dean," you start softly, the concern clear in your voice, "I know you better than that. Something’s been eating at you for a while, and you’re not gonna keep dodging it."

His chest tightens, his heart racing in his ribcage. Every part of him wants to throw up some wall, some excuse. Something to keep you from seeing the rawness of what’s inside. The vulnerability he’s been running from his entire life.

But still, you watch him, waiting, your eyes steady and unwavering.

"Come on, just let it out," you press, your hand moving to his shoulder again, your touch gentle now but insistent. “You don’t have to carry it all by yourself, you know?”

He swallows hard, his jaw tightening, hands suddenly restless at his sides. The fight inside him is crumbling, piece by piece, until he's barely holding on to whatever's left. His voice comes out strained, almost desperate.

“Please, just drop it,” he grinds out, his eyes briefly meeting yours before flicking away again, helplessly. “I’m fine. You don’t... you don’t need to know all of it.”

You sit forward, leaning in just a little, your hand still gently gripping his arm as you search his face. The determination in your gaze doesn’t waver, but there’s something softer there now, almost like a plea. “Dean—”

He jerks back slightly, suddenly standing up with a bit too much force, the air between you thickening with a tension that’s making it harder for him to breathe. He takes a few steps away, running a hand through his hair, his back turned to you as he tries to calm the storm rising inside.

"I can’t do this," he mutters, his voice low, rougher now, like it’s been dragged over gravel. His shoulders still tense with the weight of the world pressing down on him.

You’re silent for a beat, and he knows it’s because you’re giving him space. But he also knows you won’t stop until you get him to say what he’s been holding back.

He exhales sharply, his hands trembling as he clenches them into fists, his back still turned, fighting a battle he knows he’s losing. "God, I don’t want to talk about this." His voice cracks slightly as he says it, and he hates how much it betrays him.

His eyes flick to you then, and there's a crack in the armor—a vulnerability that’s almost painful to see. He looks at you, but he’s not sure he can bear the weight of your gaze anymore. Not when all he wants to do is keep you safe from the wreckage inside him.

His body is coiled tight, but his chest feels like it’s going to implode. He wants to walk away. He wants to escape from the weight of this conversation, from the way you're looking at him like you’re waiting for him to finally crack open and spill it all out.

But when he finally turns back to face you fully, all he sees is that unflinching patience, that quiet insistence that you’re not going to let him go until he finally says what he’s been hiding for so long. It makes him want to burn every rule he’s built for himself.

"You don't get it," he spats roughly, eyes flicking to the floor. "I can’t just... say it. It’s part of me, it’s who I am, this thing that I can’t get away from."

You rise to your feet, crossing the room in one smooth motion. There’s no anger in your steps—just a calm resolve that cuts through the tension between you like a knife.

"I'm not an idiot, Dean," you peek up at him, unfamilarly timid as you cross this uncharted territory. "I see the way you look at me. Hell, at first I thought I was imagining things but I can see it’s eating you alive. And I—” your words cut off in your own shock at the confession, the sincerity in your expression making his knees weak, “I can’t bear to see you like this.”

Your hands reach up tentatively, like you’re scared he’ll tear himself away again. But he stills, letting your warm hands press into either side of his jaw, “you’re my rock, alright?” your words trail into a soft laugh, easing the tension of your own truth. “I don’t wanna live in a world where I’m not by your side, because you make life worth the fight to stay alive. But you can’t just keep me in the dark, I have to know what you’re feeling.”

His breath catches in his throat, the weight of your words hitting him harder than he expected. The realization that you know, that you’ve seen through all his defenses, makes everything inside him ache.

"I don’t know what you want from me," it comes out sounding like a plea, still looking for an excuse to retreat into himself.

"I want you to stop hiding from me." Your words are simple, but they strike right at the heart of the matter. "I want you to stop pretending like you can’t have the one thing you want most."

His throat tightens, and he shakes his head, trying to dismiss it. "I don’t get it," he mumbles, though his eyes are locked on yours, searching for the reprieve he still doesn’t believe he’ll find. "I don’t... I’m not fit for this."

"I’m not either, D. I’m just asking you to let it happen." You’re so close now, he can feel the warmth of your body, the soft pressure of your fingers against his jaw. Your gaze doesn’t break, it never wavers.

And that’s when it hits him. He’s been afraid of this—afraid of the way you make him feel like he can finally breathe, like all of his pain and avoidance can cease in your presence. he’s been holding himself together with tattered shreds for so long, and you’re the only thing that’s strong enough to pull him out of the mess he’s made of himself.

And letting that security live in someone else terrifies him more than any monster he’s faced.

“I’m not perfect,” he admits quietly, his words like gravel in his throat. “I’m broken, and I’m scared as hell, but god, if you only knew how much I want—”

You stop him with a soft kiss, the sweetest touch of your lips to his. It's gentle, almost hesitant, but it shatters something inside him, enough to freeze him in place. The weight of everything unspoken presses in, and for the first time, it feels like the walls he's built around himself might finally crumble in your hands.

The chains of his tightly kept composure snap at the delicate pressure of your lips, and without thinking, his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer. His hands find purchase at your waist, holding you as if you were the only thing that kept him grounded. The kiss deepens, desperate, as if he's trying to kiss away the years of holding back, the silent fear of letting you see the real him, the uncertainty of if you’d stay with him in the wreckage.

When you finally pull back, your lips linger just above his, breaths mingling. Your voice is a soft whisper, but it cuts through the tension like a thread being pulled taut. “Then say it, Dean. Tell me what you want.”

His heart beats in his chest, loud and frantic, as his walls come crashing down, piece by piece. He can’t think straight with you in his arms, all of his steely armor melts at your touch. And for the first time in what feels like forever, he lets go of some of those fears.

His eyes are nearly consumed by his pupils as he takes in the sight of you slightly out of breath, lips wet and a little more pink. From his doing, from his touch—it makes every broken rule worth the trouble.

“I've fallen for you, Sweetheart,” he breathes, his voice is raw, shaky, but it's honest, every word carrying the weight of what he’s been holding back. “I want to keep falling for you, love and all that crap. And I’m terrified of it, but I can’t keep hiding this from you.”

Your thumb brushes over his cheek, the gesture soft, but nevertheless, grounding. A quiet smile tugs at the corner of your lips, and your eyes hold nothing but certainty. “You’ll never have to hide any part of yourself, Dean. I’ve been here all along, with nothing but love. Just been waiting for you to see that.”

tags <3 @titsout4jackles @floralscented @deansbeer @snowluvvie @dulcescorderitas @bluemerakis

#dean winchester #dean winchester x fem!reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fluff

934 notes · View notes

channieschaoscorner · 2 months ago

Text

Looking After You - Maknae Line - Stray Kids x female!9th Member Reader

Pairing: ot8 x 9th member reader, like I’ve said before possible Chan x Reader if you squint, maybe Minho x reader if you squint a bit harder

Summary: As one of the oldest, you’ve spent so long looking after the boys, it’s their turn to look after you.

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

A/N: Hi guys!!! Here’s the maknae line version of this, I hope you like it!!!! 💕 Also I 100% got absolutely carried away with I.N’s one but I also loved writing it so I really hope you enjoy it. I put a lot of emotion into this one. ✌️ Don’t be afraid to comment or message me with any feedback or thoughts on this. I welcome it all!!! ✨️

Hyung Line

Masterlist

────୨ৎ────

Han

To say you weren’t the biggest fan of airports would be an understatement.

You hated them if you were honest.

Between the stress of remembering everything, making sure the boys were ok, that everyone had their passports and then the crowds on top of it all? Hell.

At least when you were flying somewhere the crowds couldn’t follow you through the airport but landing was another story altogether. It was the reason that kept you awake, leg bouncing with anxiety at the unknown while the others took advantage of the time to catch up on some well needed sleep. You’d tried to keep yourself occupied with a film, reading, even just listening to music and staring out the window, but nothing would shift the uneasiness that had a grip on you. Only the fact that the plane had started the descent for landing, you managed to keep yourself strapped in your seat.

You barely even blinked when the plane landing, leg bouncing increased to full body fidgeting. You tied and then retied your laces, cracked your knuckles one, two, three times before Minho asked if you were trying to break them, checked your bag multiple times for your own passport before counting the others. You let Chan lead the way off the plane with the boys following, you waited until the end, letting your eyes run over the rows of seats getting off.

You’d never forget the time Jeongin left his headphones behind or the complaining that followed for the next few hours.

You waited behind Jisung as your passports were being checked, unable to stand still, you’d settled for shifting from one foot to the other in an effort to stay calm.

“Breathe.” He had turned around, eyes wide as he could feel the stress rolling off you. “We don’t know what we’re going out into.”

“Exactly. We don’t know what we’re going out to.”

“It might be ok.”

You didn’t answer that, it was never ok landing back home. Your brain was running on overdrive, thinking of what could go wrong and how you’d have to manage it.

Someone could fall over, get them back up, get them in the car and go home.

A fan could fall over, do you stop and help them? Keep going? There was no right answer there.

What if someone tries to hurt one of the boys? What if-

“Noona come on.”

Your spiralling is interrupted thankfully, but your nerves aren’t eased as you head towards the exit. You make eye contact with Chan, he raises an eyebrow. You know the silent question is if you’re ready to go out there, you nod in response and brace yourself for the other side of the doors.

Screaming. That’s all you can hear. Your vision is completely obstructed by the flashing of cameras but it doesn’t stop you from constantly scanning the people around you.

Just get them into the car. Get them to the cars and everything’s done then.

It was a mantra in your head.

You were aware of the jostling around you, the little security you had doing the minimum against the crowd. A phone pushed in front of your face and you moved around it. No matter how many times you were forced into this situation, you would never get used to it.

You weren’t sure when it all broke down and turned to complete chaos.

Maybe something happened further up that you couldn’t see, maybe Chan had made it outside and people realised they were missing their chance as you got into the cars. It could’ve been anything really. What you did know was the small barrier security held around you was there one second and gone the next.

Hands on you. That was all you could feel.

“Y/N!” You could hear someone shouting for you but you couldn’t see who it was. The crowd that had forced its way forward was beginning to suffocate you. You ducked your head and tried to force your way through but it was an impossible task. You could just about see the doors, hear what was obviously some of the boys outside shouting and arguing to get back in but you knew that would never happen. You were alone in this.

Alone.

The realisation that you were actually on your own in the swarming crowd of people gripped you and made you freeze. Someone bumped you and it made you turn to keep your balance which in turn meant you’d lost your bearings. You were stuck in an overexcited crowd of people that was pushing closer and closer to you with no sign of stopping, you couldn’t hear anything over the screaming now. Sweat was running down your back and your legs felt weak, like any second they were going to give way and you’d hit the deck.

“Y/N!”

You could just about spot Jisung trying to push his way to you, he hadn’t made it outside either before this had started.

People were pulling at him but they might as well have not been there with how much attention he gave them. His sole focus was on getting to you and attempting to shield you from the so called fans that had cornered you. He thrust his hand through the crowd towards you and you lunged for it. He gripped your hand tightly and started to pull you towards him.

One over-eager fan though, (if you can call them that) panicked when you started moving away from them and made an attempt to pull you back. Unfortunately for you, it was your ponytail that they got a grip on, so when they pulled hard you lost your balance completely and went down. You hit the ground and automatically curled in on yourself, not even trying to get back up. It would be an impossible task to push up through the people around you. You screwed your eyes up and wrapped your arms around your head, wincing when you could feel shoes in your back.

Back above the crowd, Jisung panicked. He had a hold on you and then you vanished back under the crowd. Fear shot through him, icy and cold. He moved without thinking, no longer careful. He was pushing and pulling, fighting to get to you.

“BACK UP!” His voice carried, shocking the people closest to him who moved back in fright. It didn’t matter to him though, he managed to force a space through and got his hands under your arms and yanked you up. He spun around and forced you in front of him. Security had managed to regain some attempt at control and had made a slight path for you to get to. The car was in sight and he all but pushed you inside of it.

You fell against the seat, aware that someone was talking but you couldn’t tune into it. The weight of what had just happened settling in you. You’d been so stressed about everyone else being ok that worrying about yourself had never been an option.

“What happened?!” Chan was wide eyed and jittery, barely able to explain that when he’d put Hyunjin, Seungmin, Minho and Changbin in one car that everything had kicked off inside and he couldn’t get back in, security had forced him and Felix into the second car and wouldn’t let them back in to help.

“It was insane. They pushed in and just surrounded us. I didn’t know where to go until I saw them cornering her.”

Your head dropped into your eyes and your eyes shut again, trying desperately to move past the feeling of so many strangers touching you and holding you back. You could hear the angry rantings of Chan demanding better security, Jisung explaining how they’d pulled you down to the ground and what you were pretty sure was Felix sniffling at the stress of the whole situation.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your leg.

“Are you ok?”

You nodded, barely able to speak. A lump had settled in your throat, you swallowed but even that hurt.

“Thank you for coming back to get me Ji.”

He blinked, “Thank you? You don’t need to thank me. I’d never leave you behind.” He took one of your hands slowly and gripped it tight. You linked your fingers between his and held on, matching his grip.

Chan’s voice carried across the car. “I am never letting you walk at the back again after that, straight to the front now. No arguments.”

────୨ৎ────

Felix

Social media was a blessing and a curse.

On one hand, you loved being able to talk to your fans, see their comments and watch back their reactions to new music, concerts, videos posted. You loved that side of it. On the other hand, you could also see the opinions of people that weren’t your fans. Which described the rabbit hole you’d found yourself in now. Most of the time you could ignore it, brush it off and move on. Today was different though, you’d managed to find a whole account dedicated to campaigning for your permanent removal from the group. It didn’t matter to them you’d been there since debut, you never should have debuted with the boys in their opinion. Every single tiny flaw, mistake, error was highlighted and posted on their page, everything was wrong and even if you’d managed to do everything right, well then you could’ve been better.

It was a rare day off for you all and you pushed back the thought in your head that this was how you were spending it. Wasting your time on an anonymous account that spent more time analysing you than your own fans did. They spent so much time analysing you that they were a let to pinpoint all the areas on your body that had gained weight when you’d been on hiatus and not training as much. That was your final straw. You locked your phone and flung it across your bed, pushing yourself up and abandoning it behind you.

Your feet moved on their own accord, as if your body knew where to take you before your brain could catch up. You knocked on the bedroom door.

“Come in.”

You pushed the door open.

Felix sat as his desk, headphones on, game on screen. “You ok?” He didn’t take his eyes off the monitors.

You opened your mouth but didn’t quite know what to say. “I can’t stay off a hate account and it’s driving me crazy” didn’t sound quite right.

“I just need some company.”

Felix side eyed you quickly, it didn’t take a genius to realise something was bothering you but he didn’t press further. He nodded and said nothing else. This wasn’t anything new, he had often come to your room late at night needing company when he was overwhelmed or upset but this was the first time you’d come to find him.

You pulled back the covers on his bed and climbed in, shoving pillows around until you’re comfortable and pulled your hood up over your head. You felt around the bed until your hand landed on a rogue Bbokari, you wrapped your arms around the plushie and curled into a ball. You listened to the faint sounds of Felix gaming and shouting when he lost, it kept your mind away from everything. This was peaceful. You understood why Felix wanted the escape of your room now, the change in bed and presence of someone else with you felt safe. Even though you weren’t speaking, knowing Felix was there in the room with you was enough. Your eyes had started to droop and you nestled down lower into the bed.

Felix spun his chair around once he finished, he wasn’t sure how long you’d been there but it was long enough for him to be hungry now. He stood up, wincing as his knees cracked from being sat for you long. He moved slowly into the bed, not wanting to wake you just yet. He settled down next to you, carefully moving the plushie out of your hands and slotting himself in your arms instead. You weren’t the biggest hugger but you’d become used to Felix sneak attacking you with hugs from the nights spent in your room when he didn’t want to be alone. He wasn’t sure what was bothering you but this always made him feel better so he took a guess that it could help you too.

You woke up feeling so overheated that it took you a minute to realise what was going on. You understood why though when you felt the weight in your arms. You weren’t sure when but obviously at some point, Felix had slotted himself in place of the plushie and was cuddling that now instead whilst you held him. You smiled softly at the younger boy.

“Lix.” You scratched the back of his head gently.

He made a noise.

“Lixie, wake up.”

His eyes opened and then shut again. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to get some food, I don’t even know what time it is.”

“No we don’t.” As if on queue, his stomach started rumbling making you laugh.

“Your body says different. Come on.” You made a move to sit up, pushing past the whine and grabby hands that attempted to keep you in the bed.

“Come on.”

You could hear him objecting to getting out of bed but he still followed you nonetheless.

He took a seat on the counter while you dropped instant ramen into a pot. He kept a careful eye on you, trying to gauge your mood.

“Are you feeling any better?”

You stopped for a moment, considering your words.

“I don’t need to know what’s wrong.” He followed up with quickly. “I just want to know if you feel better.”

“Yeah, I feel a lot better. Thanks Lixie.”

He grinned at that, clearly happy that he had helped. It made him feel special that you’d been able to come to him when you weren’t doing ok and that he’d been able to cheer you up. It made him so happy that he nearly bounced back into his room when you showed no intention of returning to your own, you took your spot in his bed again, bringing your laptop and headphones with you so you could watch a film while he gamed. The silence and each others company was exactly what you had needed today, the silent support doing more for you than he would actually know.

────୨ৎ────

Seungmin

The arena was sold out, fans screaming, lights flashing. The stage was calling your name. You stared wide eyed in the wings, ready to rush back out there. It had been a long few months on hiatus and this was your first show since coming back. Excitement had consumed your entire being, unable to stay still, you settled for jumping on the spot with Jeongin, who was equally hyped about you performing with them again.

“You’re going to tire yourself out before you even make it out there.” Seungmin was leaning against a box, clearly judging the pair of you.

“No we’re not.” Innie retorted, sticking his tongue out.

“Maybe not you, but Noona’s getting pretty old now. She’ll be hyungs age soon.” Seungmin responded dryly.

Your jaw dropped. “Watch it, you menace.” You leg shot out but he dodged your foot with easy and moved away to a safer distance.

He couldn’t reply though, the staff rounded you all up to go on and before you knew it, you were running out onto the stage for the first song.

You felt at home on stage, performing came naturally to you. Your time off made you yearn for it even more, it felt warm under the stage lights and it was where you knew you belonged. It was why when you were halfway through the set that everyone had calmed slightly, you were still bouncing around the stage unable to stay in one place too long. You were waving and interacting with fans, posing for photos and videos, stopping to read posters. You’d been gone long enough that you wanted to show your appreciation for your fans now that you were back.

One poster though caught your attention and not in a good way.

Once you realised what it said you moved on fairly quickly, you didn’t catch the full thing but read enough to understand they weren’t happy you were back and wished you were still on hiatus. You fought to bring your smile back up and moved back across the stage.

It didn’t go unnoticed. Seungmin watched you freeze before composing yourself again from the other side, he couldn’t think what had made you stop. An emergency in the crowd maybe? No, you would’ve stopped the concert. He kept you in his peripheral when you moved in for the dance break, your smile had dropped and it no longer reached your eyes. To everyone else, the fans, the staff, nothing was wrong but he knew different. You were putting on a front right now and he wanted to know why.

At the next opportunity, he made a beeline for the side of the stage except he couldn’t see anything wrong. Nothing was standing out to him as a problem, but he knew you. Something had to have happened to make that much of a difference in your attitude. You’d gone from genuinely excited and happy to a stage version of yourself that you put on when you weren’t feeling it anymore. The difference was so stark that he blocked your path as soon as you got off stage so you could change.

“What happened?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Something happened out there, I saw it. Tell me.” He pressed.

“Nothing happened Minnie, come on we don’t have much time.” You pushed past him and ran to your stylist.

He refused to let it go. Determine to find out what was going on, when you moved across the stage again he stuck close by your side. In fact,that nearly wasn’t enough. He almost missed it.

Almost being the key word.

He turned at the right second, his attention elsewhere in the crowd, too invested to let the issue go. He spotted to poster out of the corner of his eye, the reason he hadn’t seen it before was because it was only held up when you could see it. Your jaw tightened and you moved on. Seungmin didn’t. He ground his teeth, he couldn’t have them removed. Security pushing into the crowd to remove someone at the barrier would draw too much attention to this and you’d hate that. He knew that you’d tell him to just move on and let it go, don’t react, just ignore it. Ignoring would be the right thing to do, the mature thing to do.

Except when has Seungmin ever chosen the correct and mature way out of situation? He wasn’t about to start now.

He spun on his heel and made a beeline for the bottles of water and water guns that were dotted about the stage. He silently thanked staff for remembering the water gun specifically as he picked it up.

You were watching him carefully, all too aware he’d been following you around the stage, making good on his puppy nickname but when his attention had been directed somewhere else you’d stopped. You knew he’d seen the poster, normally you’d step in and tell him to leave the situation alone but you couldn’t deny the slight curiosity you had for wanting to know what he was about to do.

So when he took his place at the side of the stage and lowered the water gun that it was perfectly aimed for the fake fans face, you did nothing to object. The shot of water hit them square in the face, when they held up their hands to shield themselves, he aimed for the poster in their hands. The paper crumpled under the stream rendering it useless. You couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up and escaped, you clamped your hands over your mouth to try and mute it but your mic picked it up so it came out through the arena.

The other members turned to see what had you in hysterics but all they saw was Seungmin give you a wide grin, that absolutely meant he’d chosen violence in a situation but they couldn’t figure out what. They were none the wiser as you ran up to him and launched yourself onto his back, he said nothing and carried you back down to the others, grin unmoving.

He was allowed to be mean to you, but no one else.

────୨ৎ────

I.N

Jeongin wasn’t blind to how hard things had been for you. Between the hate online, your hiatus, getting swarmed at the airport, it wasn’t easy. It was why when he found out they had a concert on your birthday, he was determined to make it as special as possible.

“Happy Birthday Noona!” Jeongin burst into your room with a party popper, confetti bursting everywhere.

“Well that’s one way to wake me up.” You yawned. “Thank you Innie.”

“You need to get up, we made you breakfast.”

You hesitated for a second. “You all made it?”

Jeongin slumped. “We tried but Minho kicked us out the kitchen.”

You laughed as that sounded about right. “Ok Innie, let’s go.”

Jeongin had done everything right so far, he got you up for breakfast, ordered your favourite food for lunch and was being a complete pain in the ass to the others so much so that Minho threatened to spoil your birthday surprise if he didn’t chill out. This threat prompted a wrestling match in the boys dressing room as they were getting ready to go on stage that ended with Minho pinned down which left him no choice but to sink his teeth into Jeongin’s forearm.

“Yah, what is going on? I can hear you down the hall.” You pushed in through the door, you had your own dressing room technically but often chose to get your makeup done with the others, using yours only to get dressed in.

“Nothing.” Chan stated, fixing the others with a glare.

You narrowed your eyes but said nothing, completely forgetting about the incident as you fell into prep mode for the upcoming concert.

The concert had gone well, everyone had performed perfectly and you were so proud of the boys. You always were but being able to do what you loved with them especially on your birthday made it even more special.

“We actually have one more thing to do before we leave you tonight.” Chan started.

You looked at the others in confusion, wondering if you’d missed a schedule change.

“Someone very special here has a birthday!”

You groaned and covered your face with your hands, already feeling the heat creep up the back of your neck in embarrassment. You hadn’t expected them to pull this with you tonight. You uncovered your eyes to Changbin pulling over a stool for you to sit on which you indulged him in, you objected when Hyunjin whipped a party hat out from nowhere and wrestled it onto your head.

He pulled the string so it snapped against your chin.

You dug your elbow into his side.

He yelped and moved away.

Minho and Jisung had disappeared in the chaos and your embarrassment to reappear on stage holding a cake with lit candles.

“Happy birthday to youuuu.” Felix started, giddy with the excitement of surprising you but also at the fact that you were so embarrassed by the attention on stage.

You sat staring at them in shock as they got the whole stadium involved, you didn’t need to look at the screens to know that your face was molten red. You were never going to be able to move past this.

“Make a wish!!!” Jeongin cheers as you blew out the candles.

“What did you wish for?” Seungmin questioned.

“You can’t ask her that!” Jeongin snapped.

“Ok, ok.” Chan steps forward, wanting to prevent another possible biting incident from happening. “We actually have one more surprise for you, this was all Innie’s idea so you can thank him for this.”

You weren’t sure what to expect when they directed your attention to the screens, especially not with Jeongin’s face popped up in a recording.

“Hi Noona.” He waved. “I know that things haven’t been the easiest lately so I wanted to do something that shows you how much we appreciate you. So I’m going to start this off, I’ve always appreciated how patient you are with me. It didn’t matter how much you had to help me with dancing when I was younger or when I need help from you now, you’re always so kind to me and you never get mad so thank you” He moved to turn the camera off.

“Oh and happy birthday!”

*Camera cuts to Seungmin*

“So what would you like to say for Noona’s birthday?” Jeongin asked from behind the camera.

“Congratulations on getting old?”

“Hyung do it properly.” Jeonging whined.

Seungmin sighed. “Fine.” He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable but also trying to his best. “You always look out for everyone, I know that we don’t need to worry about stuff as much because you always make sure that everything’s ok for us. We’re really lucky to have you.” He paused and looked over the camera. “Was that ok?”

“Perfect.” Jeongin grinned.

*Camera cuts to Felix*

*Camera cuts to Han*

“One of my favourite things about you is I know I can come to you with any kind of problem and you’ll listen, or if I’m having a bad day I can come find you and you’ll just let me hang out with you until I feel better. It’s really nice knowing I can come to you with anything no matter what. I’m really thankful I have you in my life, Y/N.”

“I think one of my favourite things about you is how sure you are of yourself, I always think about when we first met you when Channie Hyung told us that you were joining the group too and we didn’t know what to think of you. You were so confident about yourself and I remember thinking how much I wanted to be like that. I think you inspire all of us to be ourselves.”

*Camera cuts to Hyunjin*

Hyunjin spun in the chair, clearly thinking carefully about what he wanted to say. “You’re so kind to us and you always look after us but it’s more than that. I was so young when I met you, we all were. I think we forget that you and Channie hyung were just kids too and then suddenly you had the seven of us to look after. You stepped into that role so easily and never even questioned it. I’ll never stop being grateful for how much you love us and take care of us.”

*Camera cuts to Changbin*

“Ah where do I start? I have a lot of favourite things about you Noona. How much you love what you do, we can be in the recording studio recording lines and you’re sat in the corner of the room dancing. How fiercely you want to protect us from everything, you take on so much that we don’t even know about most of the time. How you get into arguments with the company when you don’t agree with what they want us to do. There’s too many things to choose from, I appreciate everything about you.”

*Camera cuts to Minho*

“Please Hyung, just something. It’s not for me, it’s for her.” Jeongin pleaded.

Minho rolled his eyes. “I’ve never had to correct you about Soonie, Doongie and Dori.”

Jeongin groaned.

Minho glared over the camera. “Get out.”

“What?”

“You want me to do this properly? I can’t do it with you staring at me.”

The scramble of the chair in the background and the door closing echoed on the camera as Jeongin made his exit.

Minho sighed. “This feels ridiculous.”

He looked at the camera. “Sorry.”

His fingers drummed on the table as he thought about what to say, he deliberately avoided eye contact with the camera.

“I remember being happy when I met you. I’d never met someone who was so obsessed with dance and I remember thinking that I could learn so much from you. I don’t think I realised how much you cared until we debuted. You didn’t cry when I was first eliminated, you just held me and told me that it wasn’t my fault and you knew I would do great things.” He hesitated. “You cried when we debuted, when it was announced I remember you crying and holding onto me, you couldn’t speak. You’d never cried on camera before, that was the first time you’d ever cried in front of us and it really shocked me.”

He cleared his throat. “You’ve always believed so much in me that I’ve never questioned if I can do something or not, because if I have someone like you cheering me on and believing that I can do it then I have no reason to doubt myself.”

“Hyung that was beautiful.” Jeongin’s voice carried through the door.

“Yah, you little-“

*Camera cut to Chan”

Chan fiddled with his earring. “I was supposed to do this earlier on but I got called into a meeting so I sneaked off to do this while you taught the others.” He laughed. “I’ve been distracting you all day with recording your lyrics so Innie could get this done, you’re going to kill me when you find out I made you re-record them for no reason.”

He took a deep breath. “I’m going to be honest, I’m not sure what I would do without you Y/N. Sometimes I think about everything that’s happened and I think what would I have done if I didn’t have you here to help me and I’m not sure I could’ve done it. I think you underestimate how much I rely on you sometimes, even when you can’t help me, you’re still there. You’ve been my best friend since we were teenagers, you’ve been a constant support in my life and the boys. I’ve watched you work yourself to the bone taking care of everyone, taking on problems so I don’t need to deal with them, and still managing to do your job on top of it all. I don’t know how you do it.”

He took a moment to rub his face, obviously emotional at admitting these things. “I’m so grateful that I met you all those years ago and that you decided you wanted to take on seven kids and an exhausted dad for the rest of your life, and I say the rest of your life because there is absolutely no way you can live your life without any of us now. We’re never letting you go.”

*The camera cuts to show different moments of you with the boys in recording sessions, dance practices, at home in the dorms. All moments they’ve recorded and given to staff to put in this.*

The video ends and you sit there stunned into silence. You can feel tears escaping your eyes and falling down your cheeks, they land in your lap leaving marks on your jeans. You can’t get any words out, the sheer amount of love that you feel for the boys overwhelms you. To know that this is what they think of you, this is what they love about you is the best gift they could’ve ever given you.

“Oh no, we’ve made her cry. She’s going to kill us.” You can hear Chan say to the crowd, but you don’t acknowledge that. Normally you would raise hell about crying in front of everyone but you can’t bring yourself to.

Your eyes find Jeongin. “You did all of that?”

He shuffled nervously. “I just wanted you to have a good birthday Noona.”

“This has been the best birthday.”

You try and stand up but almost fall over in the process, your hands find the closest person which happens to be Minho and pull him into a tight hug. It’s so tight that both of you can barely breathe but you don’t care. His arms are locked around your waist, head ducked into your neck and you can feel it. He’s started crying too but won’t show his face, he doesn’t cry in public either, you both actively avoid it.

You keep one arm tightly over his shoulders, your hand resting on the back of his head holding him there and reach out to the others. Felix joins you first, also crying. More arms cage around you until Chan joins at last. His arms circle round a few of the members, you make eye contact over Minho’s shoulder. He’s teary eyed but holding it together better than you are. He’s smiling wide, his attention solely focused on you, nothing could pull his eyes off you right now.

“Thank you.”

────୨ৎ────

Taglist: @m-325 @imeverycliche @mythicmochi @hynjnnie

516 notes · View notes

aeralux · 5 months ago

Text

"Wicked Game" - Aemond Targaryen

Sister's Boyfriend!Aemond x Reader (Modern!au)

Summary: Ever since your sister got a new boyfriend, you have been captivated by him. His long, silky silver hair and the mysterious eye patch. It's sad, truly. You know you could never have him, as they only have eyes for each other. If only he could see you in a different light than just his girlfriend's baby sister...

Warnings: SMUT 18+; rough sex; voyeurism; use of sex toys (dildos, nipple clamps, vibes etc.); infidelity; Aemond being lowkey a sadist; name calling during sex (slut); orgasm denial; oral (m! receiving); angst (in the end)

Words: 13.1k

Notes: Everything is consensual. If you do not agree with the warnings, DO NOT read. I am not responsible for the media YOU consume.

𐔌 . ⋮ aera .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

You’d been harbouring a crush on Aemond Targaryen for over a year, and honestly, it was infuriating. The universe had a cruel sense of humour, putting a man like him so close, yet so utterly out of reach. He wasn’t just your sister’s boyfriend—he was her serious boyfriend, the type you just knew she envisioned a future with. And the worst part? He was perfect for her.

Aemond wasn’t the type of guy you stumbled upon in your usual circle. Sharp-witted, devastatingly handsome, and impossibly composed, he carried himself with a confidence that drew attention the moment he entered a room. That long silver hair, always tied neatly back, and that piercing blue eye—one covered by an eyepatch that only added to his allure—made him look like he’d stepped out of some mythic tale. And you hated that you noticed it as much as you did.

The first time you met him, you were already doomed. You’d been awkward, stumbling over your words as he shook your hand at some family gathering. He was polite, of course, though his demeanour remained cool and unreadable. It only made you blush harder. Over time, your reactions to him only grew worse. Aemond, being Aemond, always seemed so unbothered—offering a kind smile here, a polite laugh there—but it didn’t seem like he ever really saw you. Not the way you wanted him to.

You tried not to let it get to you, but it did. Every time he walked through the door, greeting your sister with that subtle, affectionate smile of his, your stomach tightened. Every time his deep voice carried across the room, making some wry comment or insightful observation, you found yourself hanging onto his every word. And every time you caught a glimpse of him without your sister beside him, you let your imagination wander to places it absolutely shouldn’t.

It was humiliating. Worse than that—it was maddening.

You wanted to stop thinking about him, to shove the feelings down and pretend they didn’t exist. He was totally off-limits, the kind of forbidden crush that should’ve died as quickly as it started. But no matter how hard you tried, your stupid heart refused to let go.

And it didn’t help that your sister seemed so happy with him. She was your sister, after all, and you loved her. You’d never do anything to jeopardize what they had. That knowledge should’ve been enough to kill the fantasy altogether, but instead, it made it worse. You were stuck on the outside looking in, knowing that no matter how much you wanted him, he’d never be yours.

So, you did what you could. You tried to keep your distance, to swallow your feelings whenever they crept up, but it wasn’t easy. Whenever he was over for dinner, you saw him at family events, or your sister started gushing about how perfect he was—it grated on you. Not because you resented her happiness, but because you couldn’t stop thinking about how much you wanted him for yourself.

And you hated yourself for it.

By now, you’d started masking your crush as an annoyance—making sharp remarks here and there to cover up how flustered you got around him. You’d convince yourself that his distant politeness was a sign he thought of you as nothing more than his girlfriend’s little sister. That thought hurt more than it should, but at least it kept you grounded in reality.

You’d tried to bury the feelings. You really had.

The bass thrummed through the club like a heartbeat, the flashing lights painting the crowded dancefloor in vibrant reds and blues. You were out with your friends—Baela, Rhaena, Jacaerys, Addam, and Cregan—and for once, you weren’t holding back. This wasn’t your usual night of sipping drinks quietly at the bar. Tonight, you let yourself go, swaying to the music, laughing with your friends, and celebrating passing your exams.

Your tight black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, and your bold makeup gave you the confidence to let loose. Your hair was styled to perfection and every now and then, you caught people looking. You didn’t mind. In fact, you welcomed it. Tonight was about forgetting the stress eating at you for a month.

The energy among your friends was electric. Baela and Rhaena were dancing with you, their laughter infectious. At the same time, Jace, Addam, and Cregan stayed close, joking and moving in rhythm with the music. Cregan, always the playful one, had spun you into a twirl at one point, his hands lingering on your waist as he leaned in to say something over the pounding music. Whatever he said made you laugh, throwing your head back with a carefree grin.

What you didn’t know—what you couldn’t have known—was that Aemond was there too.

He’d come with a few colleagues for a drink after a long week, not expecting to see anyone familiar. But when he caught a glimpse of you across the room, his breath hitched in his throat.

At first, he wasn’t sure it was you. The way the dim, coloured lights illuminated your skin and the confidence in the way you moved—it was like you were a different person. But then you turned, laughing at something Jace had said, and he saw your face fully. It was you.

Aemond froze.

His drink hovered in his hand, forgotten as he watched you from across the room. He’d never seen you like this before. Always so sweet and composed at family dinners, with your shy smiles and nervous laughs. But here, under the pulsing lights, you were... different. Bold. Glowing.

The tight dress, the way it clung to your body, showed off every curve in a way that was impossible to ignore. Your makeup highlighted your features, giving you an edge he’d never associated with you before. He tried to look away—he really did—but his eye kept drifting back to you.

And then, there were the men.

Jace stood too close, his arm brushing yours as he leaned in to speak. Addam rested his hand on your back while you danced, his touch lingering just a little too long for Aemond’s liking. And Cregan—Cregan’s hands had been on your waist, and the way you’d laughed with him made Aemond’s jaw tighten.

It was irrational, he knew that. He had no claim to you. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you like this. You were his girlfriend’s younger sister, for God’s sake. He’d always thought of you as a beautiful girl, sure, but nothing more. He respected you. Admired you, even, for your wit and kindness. But now...

Now, he felt something stirring in his chest that he didn’t want to admit.

Jealousy.

He took a slow sip of his drink, forcing himself to look away, to focus on the conversation happening around him. But the loud chatter of his colleagues faded into the background as his gaze betrayed him yet again. There you were, laughing and swaying to the music, completely unaware of the effect you were having on him.

It was infuriating.

The way your hips moved, the way your friends surrounded you, protective but also playful—it all drove him to distraction. He clenched his jaw, tightening his grip on his glass. This wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to be feeling this way.

But as he watched Jace pull you closer, his hand brushing your arm, something inside Aemond snapped.

He tore his gaze away, breathing deeply to steady himself. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t do this. You were off-limits, untouchable. He had to get his head straight before anyone noticed the turmoil inside him.

But no matter how hard he tried to focus on anything else, his eye kept returning to you.

The house was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the distant chirping of birds outside. Your parents had gone on one of their weekend camping trips, leaving the house to you, your sister, and Aemond. It wasn’t the first time he’d stayed over for a few days, but this time felt... different.

Aemond sat on the living room couch with a book in hand, though he hadn’t turned the page in what felt like hours. He wasn’t even reading—his mind was elsewhere. Or rather, his eye was.

You were in the kitchen, moving around with a casual grace that had him transfixed. You’d come downstairs earlier in shorts that hugged your legs and a fitted tank top that clung to your figure. It wasn’t an unusual outfit for a hot summer day, but to him, it might as well have been something far more provocative.

He tried to ignore it, to remind himself of who you were and why he had no right to be looking at you like this. But no matter how many times he told himself to focus on the book in his lap or the conversation your sister was trying to have with him, his eye kept straying back to you.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, scrolling on your phone, your legs crossed at the ankle. The way the sunlight streaming through the window highlighted your bare skin made his chest tighten. Was this what he’d been blind to all this time?

It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed you before. He wasn’t a fool—he’d always known you were beautiful. But there had been a line he never allowed himself to cross. You were her sister, and that fact had always been enough to keep his thoughts in check.

Until now.

The image of you at the club last night was still burned into his mind. The way you’d looked, moved, laughed. It had unlocked something in him, something he didn’t want to acknowledge but couldn’t deny any longer. Seeing you like this—so casual, so natural—only made it worse. You didn’t have to try to captivate him; you just did.

His eye drifted down your legs again, lingering before he forced himself to look away. He shifted in his seat, adjusting the book in his lap to hide the tension building in his body. This was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. He needed to snap out of it.

Your sister was sitting next to him, chatting about something mundane—dinner plans, or maybe a movie she wanted to watch later—but he wasn’t listening. He nodded occasionally, muttering an “Mm” or “Yeah” to feign interest, but his focus was elsewhere on you.

You moved from the counter to the fridge, opening it and bending slightly to grab something from the lower shelf. Aemond’s jaw tightened, his fingers gripping the edges of his book. He closed his eye, inhaling deeply.

This wasn’t serious, he told himself. It wasn’t anything more than a fleeting, physical reaction—an inconvenient trick of his own mind. That was all it was. He just needed to forget about it, to push these thoughts aside and focus on the woman sitting right next to him.

He glanced at your sister, forcing himself to look at her properly. She smiled at him, unaware of the storm raging inside his head. She deserved better than this. Better than a boyfriend whose thoughts were straying somewhere they had no business going.

But even as he tried to ground himself, his resolve crumbled the moment he heard your laugh from the kitchen. It was soft and melodic, and it pulled his attention like a magnet.

Aemond clenched his jaw, his frustration mounting—not at you, but at himself. He couldn’t let this continue. He wouldn’t. He had to stop looking at you, stop thinking about you like this, stop letting these dangerous thoughts worm their way into his head.

Because if he didn’t... he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself.

You hummed softly to yourself as you moved about the kitchen, entirely unaware of the way Aemond’s eye followed you from the couch. To you, it was just another lazy summer day. The sunlight was warm against your skin, and the cool tile beneath your bare feet felt grounding as you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

Your thoughts were far from the man sitting in the living room. You were still replaying moments from last night—how much fun you’d had with your friends, the way the music pulsed through you, and how free you’d felt dancing without a care. A soft smile played on your lips as you leaned back against the counter, scrolling through your phone to check messages from Baela and Rhaena.

In the living room, Aemond was trying his best to act normal, but his focus kept slipping. His gaze kept drifting toward you as you opened the bottle of water, tilted your head back, and took a sip, the motion somehow more graceful than it had any right to be. His grip on the book tightened when a single bead of water escaped from the corner of your mouth, trailing down your neck before you wiped it away with the back of your hand.

And you had no idea.

You were completely oblivious to the effect you were having on him, continuing your day as though nothing had changed. You even smiled once or twice when a funny text came through from Cregan. He could hear your soft chuckles from where he sat, and it only made his chest feel tighter.

Your sister, on the other hand, wasn’t oblivious.

She’d been talking to him for a while now—something about a new show she wanted him to watch with her. But Aemond’s noncommittal responses and wandering eye hadn’t escaped her notice.

With an audible sigh, she crossed her arms over her chest, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“Aemond,” she said sharply, drawing his attention back to her.

He blinked, startled out of his daze. “Hm?”

“Are you even listening to me?” she asked, her tone tinged with irritation.

“Of course,” he replied smoothly, though the faintest flicker of guilt flashed across his face.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “I’ve been talking for five minutes, and you haven’t said anything other than ‘yeah’ or ‘hmm.’ What’s going on with you today?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, his tone calm but firm. “I’m just... distracted, that’s all.”

From the corner of your eye, you noticed the tension brewing between them, though you didn’t pay it much mind. Your sister could be dramatic sometimes, and you figured Aemond was probably just tired or preoccupied with work.

You turned your attention back to your phone, scrolling aimlessly, as they continued their conversation. Aemond gave your sister a reassuring smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eye.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice low and measured. “I’ll pay better attention.”

You glanced up briefly, watching as your sister sighed again, this time more softly. She gave him a small, forgiving smile and leaned against his shoulder, though her frustration was still evident in the way her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt.

Aemond placed a hand on her knee, offering her a gesture of reassurance, but even then, his gaze flickered back to the kitchen for a fleeting second.

You didn’t catch it.

If you had, you might’ve noticed the way his eye lingered on you longer than it should have. You might’ve seen the subtle tension in his jaw or the way his grip on the book tightened whenever you moved. But you didn’t.

A few hours had passed. The house was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that pressed against your ears and made every creak of the floorboards seem louder than it should have been. Your sister had stormed out hours ago, muttering something about going to her friend’s house because Aemond was “being impossible.” She hadn’t said goodbye, slamming the door behind her as she left, leaving him alone in the house.

You weren’t there, either. You’d gone out not long after your sister, leaving Aemond to his own devices. At first, he’d relished the solitude, thinking it would give him a chance to clear his head, to wrestle his unruly thoughts back into submission. But as the hours ticked by, the stillness of the house only amplified his unease.

He tried to distract himself—reading, pacing, scrolling through his phone—but nothing worked. His thoughts kept drifting, circling back to you. The way you’d looked this morning, so effortlessly beautiful in your shorts and tank top, the sun catching on your hair as you leaned against the kitchen counter. The sound of your laugh. The way you hadn’t even seemed to notice him watching you.

Eventually, his restless wandering brought him to the hallway outside your bedroom. He hadn’t meant to stop there and hadn’t even realized where his feet had carried him until he was standing in front of your closed door.

For a moment, he just stared at it.

It would be wrong. He knew that. This was your space, your private sanctuary, and he had no business intruding. But curiosity gnawed at him, whispering in the back of his mind. What would your room be like? Would it reflect the parts of you he already knew—bright, sweet, and warm? Or would it reveal something more, something deeper that he hadn’t yet seen?

Before he could stop himself, his hand was on the doorknob.

He hesitated, his fingers brushing the cool metal as a flicker of guilt sparked in his chest. But the pull was too strong, and before he could second-guess himself, he turned the knob and stepped inside.

The scent of you hit him first—soft and delicate, with hints of vanilla and something floral. It was subtle but unmistakable, wrapping around him like a tether. He closed the door behind him, his movements slow and deliberate as he took in the space.

Your room was... you. A mix of carefully chosen decor and personal touches that spoke volumes about who you were. The bed was neatly made, a throw blanket draped over the edge. A few framed photos sat on the nightstand—one of you with Baela and Rhaena, another of you and your family on some beach vacation.

His eye caught on your desk, cluttered with notebooks, pens, and a half-empty coffee cup. There were sticky notes scattered across the surface, some with neat handwriting and others with quick, messy scrawls. He moved closer, his gaze skimming over the notes—random reminders, lists, a doodle of a little flower in the corner of one page.

Aemond’s fingers hovered over one of the notebooks, itching to pick it up, but he held back. Even in this moment of weakness, he knew he couldn’t cross that line.

Instead, his gaze drifted to your bed again. He didn’t mean to linger, but his mind betrayed him, conjuring an image of you lying there, your hair splayed across the pillow, your soft breathing filling the quiet. He clenched his fists at his sides, shaking his head as if to physically rid himself of the thought.

This was dangerous.

He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t even be thinking about you like this. You were his girlfriend’s sister, and that fact should have been enough to keep him out of this room, out of this situation altogether. But it wasn’t. Not anymore.

Next thing he knows, he's opening your drawers. Gods, is he really this depraved? His girlfriend's younger sister. Yet here he is, looking through her stuff, closet and cupboards like a sick pervert.

But what he found in your bedside table's bottom drawer made his heart stop. Aemond's breath catches in his throat as he stares down at the contents of the drawer, his eye widening in shock and a sudden surge of desire. He can't believe what he's seeing—nearly a dozen sex toys are neatly arranged inside, from sleek vibrators to thick, veiny dildos in various shapes and sizes. Some are made of smooth silicone in soft, inviting colours, while others are harder plastic or glass, glinting under the light spilling from the hallway. Little pots of lube are tucked between the toys, the labels promising special effects and intense sensations.

Aemond swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry as the desert. He can't look away, transfixed by the erotic display before him. It's like opening Pandora's box and finding a trove of forbidden delights, each promising pleasures. The heat that had been simmering low in his belly since he first laid an eye on you in the kitchen now roars to life, his cock stiffening rapidly and straining against the confines of his jeans.

He reaches out with a slightly shaking hand, tracing the smooth curve of the largest dildo with his fingertips. It's bigger than any cock he's ever seen, the thick shaft tapering to a bulbous, textured head. The thought of you using this beast, stretching yourself around it, sends a bolt of lust straight to his groin. He'd never felt such a primal, animalistic urge before.

What he wouldn't give to bury himself inside your tight heat, to feel your walls gripping him like a vice as he fucked you into oblivion. He wants to hear you scream, to beg, to chant his name until you're hoarse. The image of you, naked and spread open for him, pleading for his cock, is seared into his mind.

But it's the vibrators that really make his mouth go dry and his cock throb insistently against his zipper. Sleek and streamlined, they're made for one purpose only—to stimulate and Tease your most sensitive spots until you're writhing and screaming in ecstasy. He pictures you using them, touching yourself in your most intimate places, and it makes him want to drop to his knees and bury his face between your thighs, to lap at your dripping cunt til you're on the verge of passing out.

Aemond's breath grows heavier as he reaches for a small, discreet vibrator, picking it up and turning it over in his hands. It's matte black and barely the size of his thumb, with a narrow tip that tapers down to a point. The thought of this little device buzzing against your sensitive clit, reducing you to a desperate, writhing mess, makes Aemond groan under his breath. He can picture it so clearly—you splayed out on your bed, legs spread wide as you tease yourself closer and closer to the edge, your body slick with sweat and arousal.

Unable to resist, Aemond presses the button and holds it against his thumb, gasping as the intense vibrations shoot up his arm. Fuck, he can only imagine how incredible that would feel against your intimate flesh, how it would make you moan and plead for more. He turns the toy off and tosses it back into the drawer, his balls aching and his cock throbbing almost painfully.

He needed you. As soon as possible. He couldn't wait any longer, and he knew that.

You pushed open the front door, the loud click echoing through the silent house. You quickly kicked off your sneakers, not bothering to aim for the shoe rack, and hurried upstairs to wash the grime off your hands. As you scrubbed your skin clean, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, a prickling sensation running down your spine.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you made your way down the hallway to your room. You pushed open the door, expecting to find the usual mess of sheets not done on the bed and books piled haphazardly on the desk. Instead, you froze in your tracks, your breath catching in your throat.

There, sitting on the edge of your bed with a wicked grin spreading across his handsome face, was Aemond. His eye, usually so cold and distant, was now burning into mine with an intensity that made your heart race. You swallowed hard, your shaky breath echoing in the sudden silence of the room.

"W-what are you doing here, Aemond?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, a deep blush spreading across your skin as you took in his imposing figure. He looked devastatingly handsome, his tall frame dwarfing your modest bed.

You crossed your arms over your chest instead as you waited for his response. You could feel the weight of his gaze on your body, trailing over your curves, and you suddenly wished you had worn something more than just a simple t-shirt and shorts. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed.

Nearly trembling, you waited for his answer, your heart pounding frantically. You knew you should be wary of his intentions, but you couldn't help the flutter of anticipation that filled your belly. Being alone with Aemond like this was terrifying and exhilarating, and you found yourself wondering, not for the first time, what it would be like to feel his strong hands on your body, to have him pull you close and capture your lips with his own.

Aemond's gaze drags over your body, lingering on the curve of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips. He drinks in every inch of you, his eye glinting with a hunger that makes your skin prickle and your pussy drip. When his eye meets yours, it's darkened with desire, a fierce intensity that steals your breath.

"Tell me, little doe. What fun things do you have in your drawer?" He asked, his voice a low rumble. He stands slowly, his tall frame unfolding until he's towering over you, his broad shoulders blocking out the

Aemond takes a step closer to you, invading your personal space. His tall, muscular frame looms over you, making you feel small and delicate in comparison. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race wildly in your chest.

"I couldn't help but notice what you have tucked away in there," he continues, his voice a low, lust-roughened murmur. "Such... interesting toys. And I found myself curious about what a sweet little thing like you could possibly do with them."

He reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You shiver at his touch, your body responding to him in a way that thrills and terrifies you.

Aemond leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Tell me, little doe, have you used them? Have you touched this sexy little body, teasing yourself in all the naughty ways you imagine I would?"

His hand slides lower, skimming over the curve of your waist and resting on the flare of your hip. He grips you possessively, pulling you a step closer to him. You can feel the hard, thick length of him pressing against your belly, and it makes your core flood with heat and desire.

"Do you think about me when you touch yourself? Do you imagine it's my hands on your body, my fingers buried deep inside your tight little cunt?" Aemond's voice is a dark, sinful purr. "Is that why you have all those toys? To imagine it's me fucking you?"

You stare at Aemond in disbelief, your eyes flashing with anger and outrage. "How dare you!" You hiss, jabbing a finger into his chest. "You can't just go snooping through my private things like that, you... you pervert!"

"You're my sister's boyfriend, for God's sake!" You continue to yell, ignoring the traitorous part of you that exhilarates at his proximity and the evidence of his desire. "You had no right to go through my stuff like that. That's a total violation of my privacy and trust!"

Despite the anger coursing through you, you can't ignore the electricity crackling between you, the way his proximity makes your heart race. You know you should step back and put distance between you, but you find yourself rooted to the spot, your body swaying closer to his as if drawn by a magnet.

"Answer me, Aemond," you demand, your voice shaking slightly as you glare up at him. "What gave you the right to invade my space like that? Are you really that big of a fucking creep?"

Aemond's smirk only grows wider at your outburst, clearly amused by your anger rather than cowed by it. He doesn't move away from you, instead leaning in even closer until you can feel his breath hot on your face.

"You're right, little doe, I shouldn't have gone through your things without permission," he admits with a shrug, not sounding particularly apologetic. "But I must say, the temptation was just too great. When I saw what you had hidden away, all those toys designed to bring pleasure to a pretty little thing like you... I couldn't resist imagining all the ways I could put them to better use."

He reaches up, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering to brush along your jawline. His touch is maddeningly gentle, a sharp contrast to the aggressive way he invaded your space.

"I've seen the way you look at me," Aemond murmurs, his voice a low, sinful purr. "The hunger in your eyes, the longing. You think I don't notice, but I do. I see how you watch me, how your gaze lingers on me... and I know you want me."

His hand slides down from your jaw to your throat, his thumb brushing your racing pulse. Your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest, your skin flushing hotter at his touch and the dark promise in his words.

"So yes, I'm a creep for snooping. But you're not exactly innocent, are you, little one?" Aemond's grin turns wicked, his eye glinting with cruel amusement. "Do you think about me when you use those toys? Have you imagined it was my big, hard cock stretching out your tight little cunt, filling you up in a way no vibrator ever could?"

He leans in even closer, his lips a hairsbreadth away from yours. You can feel the heat of him, smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne and the faint musk of arousal beneath. Your mouth goes dry as you stare at him, your body trembling with anger and desire.

You opened your mouth to deny his accusation, to rage at him for invading not just your room, but your most private thoughts... but the words stuck in your throat.

Because he was right. God help you, but every single time you brought yourself to the edge with your vibrator buzzing between my thighs, every moment you lost yourself in the throes of your own touch... You thought of him. He and the way he would take you, dominate you, make you scream and beg for more until you were hoarse.

You wanted to rage at him, to slap that smug smirk off his handsome face. You wanted to tell him he was nothing but a creep, a pervert to snoop through your things like that. But you couldn't. Because the truth was, you had wanted him from the moment he first walked into your life.

Aemond only had eyes for her, and it had driven you mad with jealousy and desire.

Now here he was, looming over you, his tall powerful frame making you feel small. You couldn't deny it, not when your body was betraying you, trembling and aching for his touch.

"No... I haven't," you muttered, hating how weak and breathless you sounded. Is this really all the restraint you had? All the strength you could muster? A single breathless denial uttered in a voice barely above a whisper?

Aemond's grin widens, his eye glinting with triumph as he sees the truth in yours. He knows he's getting to you, breaking through your defences with his assertive words and the sheer force of his presence.

"Liar," he chuckles darkly, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "I've seen the way you look at me, the hunger in your eyes. I know you want me, little doe. Just as much as I want you."

His hand slides down to the hem of your shirt, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric to brush against the soft skin of your waist. You gasp, your stomach muscles fluttering at his touch, and he grins wickedly.

"I'm going to use all these toys on you, little doe. I'm going to make you scream and beg and cry for my cock until you can no longer form a single thought."

His other hand comes up to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his intense, burning gaze. "Get on the bed, now."

Aemond's fingers tighten on your chin, his nails digging into your soft skin. "Or... you can leave, and we'll forget any of this ever happened. Which will it be?"

He steps back, his arms crossed over his broad chest, waiting for you to choose.

You feel your cheeks burning with humiliation as you reluctantly make your way to the bed, each step heavy with the weight of your shameful desire. You perch on the edge of the mattress, your hands trembling as you lay back against the plush pillows.

You gaze up at Aemond, eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears. It's mortifying, allowing your sister's boyfriend to have this kind of power over you, to reduce you to a quivering mess with just a few words and a heated glance.

Your legs quiver as you slowly spread them, a subconscious invitation that you are powerless to resist. You can feel the cool air of the room against your heated skin, and you thank the gods that he can't see the damp patch darkening the crotch of your panties through your jeans, betraying the shameful arousal he's evoking in you.

Aemond's eye darkens as he watches you reluctantly lay back on the bed, your body trembling with fear and anticipation. He can see the humiliation etched on your beautiful face, the way your cheeks are flushed a deep, rosy red. It only makes him want you more, knowing that he's the one who's reduced you to this desperate, needy state.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice a low, approving rumble. He reaches out and trails his fingers up your inner thigh, the light touch making you jump and gasp.

The sight makes his cock throb almost painfully in his jeans, a damp patch of pre-cum beginning to soak through the fabric. He wants nothing more than to bury himself between your thighs, to feel your wet heat gripping him like a vice as he fucks you hard and fast, claiming you as his own.

But he restrains himself, wanting to take his time with you, to make you beg for his cock before he gives it to you. A wicked grin spreads across his handsome face as he leans over you, his elbows resting on either side of your head. He's so close that you can feel his breath hot on your face, smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne and the faint musk of his arousal.

Aemond smirks as he backs off and reaches into the drawer, pulling out a large, thick dildo and a bottle of lube. He turns back to you, his eyes roaming hungrily over your body as he stalks closer to the bed.

"Let's start with this one, shall we?" he murmurs, holding up the hefty toy. It's long, girthy, tapered at the end, made of a firm but flexible silicone. He sets it down on the bed beside you before grabbing the lube bottle.

"I want you to take off your clothes," Aemond orders, his voice a low, commanding growl that sends shivers down your spine. "Slowly. Let me enjoy the show."

Your heart races as you slowly peel off your top, revealing inch after inch of soft skin. You take your time, letting the fabric drag teasingly over your sensitive flesh until your tank top falls to the floor. Next, you shimmy out of your shorts with your legs raised in the air. You can feel Aemond's intense gaze burning into you the entire time, drinking in every bit of skin you expose.

You know you should feel ashamed for being so exposed in front of your sister's boyfriend, but you can't. Not when the hunger in his eye makes you feel desired, craving his touch and his approval.

Biting your lip, you reluctantly slide your panties down your legs, leaving you bare before him. You can feel the cool air of the room against your heated flesh, making you shiver and your nipples tighten into stiff, aching peaks.

Your face flushes hotly, as you lay back on the bed, trying to cover yourself instinctively with your hands. But you force yourself to relax, to let him look his fill as he stands over you, his tall form dwarfing yours.

"Fuck, look at you," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined."

He reaches out, dragging a single finger down the centre of your body, from the hollow of your throat, down between your breasts, over your stomach, and stopping just above your bare mound. Your skin prickles and flushes under his touch, your body reacting viscerally to his presence.

Aemond's hand drifts between your thighs, his fingers brushing against your slick folds. A low groan escapes him at the feel of you, so wet and ready. He can feel the heat radiating off your core, the evidence of your shameful arousal.

"That's it, little one," he murmurs, his fingers teasing your slit, not yet delving inside. "This is what I do to you. This is how much you want me."

He pushes a single finger inside your tight channel, pumping it slowly as he leans down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. He suckles hard, his tongue swirling and flicking over the sensitive bud until it's stiff and aching. All the while, his finger continues to thrust into you, curling and stroking your inner walls until you're squirming beneath him.

He withdraws his finger, and you whimper at the loss, your hips rolling up in a desperate attempt to follow the warmth of his touch. But Aemond just smirks, bringing his slick finger to his lips and licking your arousal from the digit.

He nips at your earlobe before straightening up and grabbing the bottle of lube. He uncaps it and squeezes out a generous amount onto his fingers, the clear gel dripping down onto your stomach.

"Spread your legs wider for me, little doe," Aemond orders, his eye gleaming with dark promise. "I want to see all of you. I want to see that pretty cunt that's going to be stretched wide around that thick dildo of yours."

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at the huge, girthy pink dildo in Aemond's strong hands, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

"Aemond," you whimper, your voice small and breathless. You can feel your cheeks burning with humiliation, he must think you're some kind of depraved nymphomaniac with the sheer volume of sex toys and adult items you own. But you can't deny the shameful thrill that shoots through you at the thought of him using one of them on you, claiming you in the most intimate of ways.

You bite your lip hard, trying to stifle the needy moan that threatens to spill from your throat as you watch him slick up the thick shaft, the clear lube glistening obscenely in the light. You know Aemond is a dominant, intense lover who leaves your sister thoroughly satisfied every single time, as were her words. But now it was finally your turn. It was you who he was lusting over now.

"Shh, I will make you feel good," Aemond murmurs, a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you squirm on the bed. "I'm going to please your body until you beg me to stop..."

He takes the slick dildo and traces the flared head teasingly along your slit, coating it in your dripping arousal. The sensation makes you gasp and shudder, your hips rolling up to chase the contact. Aemond just chuckles darkly, amused by your desperate reactions.

"Look at this greedy cunt, so hungry for something to fill it," he taunts, pushing the bulbous tip just inside your entrance. He holds it there, letting you feel the stretch, the pressure as he slowly sinks the thick toy deeper and deeper into your core.

Your walls flutter and clench, adjusting to the size. You can feel every ridge, every vein and contour of the toy as it sinks deeper, until finally, with a lewd squelch, the thick base settles against your mound.

Aemond stares down at where you're now stuffed full, the dildo stretching your belly slightly and your lips puffy and slick with lube and your own arousal. His eyes blaze with a hunger that makes your core spasm around the toy.

"That's my good girl," he praises, his voice a low, sinful purr.

Your eyes flutter shut, a breathy moan escaping your lips as the thick dildo starts to move inside you. "Ohhh!" I gasp, your back arching off the bed as it stretches your walls deliciously. You can feel every ridge and vein dragging against your sensitive flesh, the sensation overwhelming in the best way possible.

He starts pumping it faster, and your mouth falls open in a silent scream, drool leaking from the corner of your lips. Your tongue lolls out as you lose yourself in the intense pleasure, and your mind starts to go blissfully blank.

"Ahhh, fuck..." you whimper, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as the toy plunges deeper, visible through your stomach. You haven't used this particular one in ages, but it feels incredible, the stretch bordering on too much but somehow just right.

Your nails dig into the sheets beneath you, gripping them for dear life as Aemond fucks you hard and fast with the thick dildo. You can feel your pussy gripping greedily around the toy, trying to hold onto it, to keep it deep inside your aching core.

"Mmm, listen to these slutty little noises spilling from your mouth," Aemond taunts, his voice a low, amused rumble. "You're loving this, aren't you? Loving the feel of that big, hard toy stretching out this greedy cunt."

He keeps fucking you hard with the toy, the obscene sound of it pounding into your soaked cunt filling the room. His other hand comes down to your breast, kneading the soft flesh roughly as he pinches and tugs at your nipple.

"So fucking sexy," he murmurs, licking his lips as he stares down at you writhing on the bed. He reaches over to the drawer, grabbing a small vibrator. He pulls the dildo out of your dripping pussy with a wet plop, leaving you empty and aching.

Aemond turns the vibrator on, the buzz filling the room as he brings it down to your sensitive, swollen clit. He circles the sensitive nub with the toy, the intense stimulation making your back arch clean off the bed.

You cry out as the vibrator assaults your over-sensitive clit. Pleasure shoots through you like lightning, teasing you to the brink of ecstasy. "You're... ahhhh! You're torturing me!" you gasp. Tears of overwhelmed sensation prick at the corners of your eyes as they squeeze shut.

Aemond smirks wickedly, amused by your desperate cries and the way your body writhes beneath his ministrations. He increases the intensity of the vibrations against your clit, watching with sadistic glee as your pussy clenches and flutters around nothing, aching for something to grip onto.

"Torture is such a strong word," he purrs, his voice a low, sinful rumble. "I prefer to think of it as... worship."

Aemond grins wickedly, enjoying the power he holds over you. "Don't you dare come until I allow it," he commands, his voice a dark, dominant growl. He leans close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Not until I say so. Understand?"

"Please, I can't-!" you sob, your back arching almost painfully as you try in vain to buck the vibrator away. But Aemond is too strong, pinning your hips down as he holds the toy mercilessly against your throbbing clit. The pleasure is exquisite agony, pushing you to the brink of what you can withstand.

Aemond smirks cruelly, enjoying the way you thrash and sob beneath him, your cries like music to his ears. He can see the desperation in your eyes, the way your body trembles and shakes as you teeter on the edge of climax. But he doesn't relent, determined to push you further, to make you beg for the release he's denying you.

"Not yet," he growls, his voice rough with dominance. He grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his intense, burning gaze. "You don't get to come until I say so, little one. You're going to hold it together for me, no matter how much it hurts."

To punctuate his words, he increases the vibration of the toy, the buzzing noise growing louder as he grinds it harder against your sensitive clit. Your vision blurs, tears streaming down your face, but Aemond doesn't stop. He keeps the vibrator pressed against you, watching as your body writhes and bucks beneath him.

Aemond leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. The heat of his breath mingles with the cold sting of your tears, making you shiver. "Beg," he whispers, his voice low and dark.

"P-Pl-," you manage to choke out between gasps and sobs, your nails digging into Aemond's muscular forearms as you cling to him for dear life. "Please, I can't... I'm going to..." You can feel your clit pulsing almost violently, your juices leaking out of you to stain the sheets beneath your quivering body.

You're teetering on the edge, but you know you can't come without his permission. "Aemond," you whimper, staring at him with pleading, hazy eyes. "Please, I need... I need..." you can't even finish your sentence, too consumed by the overwhelming sensations to form coherent words. You can only pray that he'll grant you the release you so desperately crave.

Aemond's eye glints with cruel amusement as he watches you struggle to hold back your impending climax, your body trembling and shaking with the effort. He can see the desperation etched on your beautiful face, hear it in your choked pleas, and it fills him with a dark sense of satisfaction.

He grinds the vibrator harder against your throbbing, swollen clit, the intense stimulation bordering on pain. Your pussy clenches and flutters wildly around nothing, aching to be filled, to be fucked hard and deep until you scream.

"No." He says with a wicked smirk.

He pulls the vibrator away from your aching cunt, leaving you empty and wanting. Your wail of protest turns into a high-pitched keen as the cool air hits your soaked, swollen folds. Aemond chuckles wickedly, enjoying the sight of you suffering.

He sets the vibrator aside and reaches into the drawer, rummaging through the various toys and implements. His eye gleams with cruel delight as he selects a few choice items, eager to put them to use on your helpless, over-stimulated body.

Turning back to you, Aemond holds up a textured G-spot stimulator and a set of black nipple clamps connected by a metal chain. A vicious smile plays at the corners of his mouth as he stares down at your trembling form.

"Looks like we have quite the collection here," he muses, tapping the toys against his palm. "I'm going to greatly enjoy... using every one of these." His voice drips with dark promise, sending shivers of mingled fear and anticipation down your spine.

You blink up at Aemond with wide, startled eyes, your heart pounding wildly in your heaving chest, looking like a wounded puppy, trembling and mewling for the mercy of your tormentor.

A fresh wave of panic and trepidation washes over you. You've only dared to use those wicked clamps on yourself once before, a secret sin you've kept hidden away, ashamed of your own desires. Now, here you are, laid bare before your sister's boyfriend, helpless and aching for his touch and dominance.

You know you should protest, should demand that he stop this depraved torment... but you can't. You can only feel perverted excitement.

Aemond smirks cruelly, enjoying the look of fearful anticipation on your face. Leaning down, Aemond takes one of your nipples between his teeth, biting down hard enough to make you yelp. He soothes the sting with his tongue, circling the abused bud before pulling back with a wicked grin.

He opens one of the clamps and fastens it around your nipple. He does the same to the other until your nipples are both trapped in the cruel vice, the cold chain between them dangling invitingly on your stomach.

Aemond tugs sharply on the chain, watching as you push out your breasts and cry out at the sudden burst of pleasure-pain.

He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I'm going to give you the pleasure you crave, little one. But you're going to have to earn it." His voice is low and dark, dripping with cruel promise.

Aemond reaches for the pink dildo from earlier. He rubs the head teasingly along your slit, coating it in your dripping arousal. "I want you to fuck yourself with this toy, nice and slow. Nice and deep," he orders, his voice a low growl. "And if you do a good job, maybe I'll let you come."

You take the thick pink dildo from Aemond's strong hands, your fingers trembling as they wrap around the girthy shaft. You can't help but let out a shaky sigh as you tease the bulbous head along your dripping slit, your eyes fluttering shut at the first touch of something solid against your aching, empty core.

Slowly, you start to sink the toy into your greedy cunt, biting your lip to stifle a moan as it stretches you open. You roll your hips, pushing it deeper, inch by inch disappearing inside you. Your head falls back as you lose yourself in the sensation.

"Fuuuuck," you breathe out, your voice a needy whimper. You start to move the dildo in and out, taking it slow and deep, just like Aemond ordered. Each thrust makes you gasp, your walls clenching greedily around the invading toy.

You look up at Aemond through your lashes, your eyes glossy.

"I do this every time you visit," you confess, your cheeks flushing pink. "I go to my room and fuck myself stupid with my toys, thinking it's you who's splitting me open, making me scream. I cream all over my sheets, wishing it was your cock buried deep inside me."

You keep fucking yourself with the dildo, angling it just right to hit that perfect spot inside you. Your tits bounce with each thrust, the clamps on your nipples moving with them enticingly. "Please, Aemond," you whine needily, "I want your cock so badly. I want you to fuck me until I can't walk straight until all I can do is drool and moan your name. Please, let me be your fucktoy..."

Aemond's eye darkens with lust at your confession, his cock throbbing almost painfully against the confines of his jeans. He can't believe the dirty, depraved things spilling from your lips, the way you openly admit to fucking yourself stupid, wishing it was him splitting you open, claiming your needy cunt.

He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he growls, "Fuck, you're such a dirty little girl, aren't you? I bet you'd let me do anything I wanted to this greedy body. Wouldn't you, hm?"

Aemond reaches down, grabbing the dildo as it plunges into your sopping wet cunt, spearing you open and making you cry out. He takes over, fucking you hard and fast with the thick toy, the obscene sound of it pounding into your dripping pussy filling the room.

"Louder," Aemond demands, slamming the toy even deeper. "I want to hear you scream for my cock, you shameless little whore. Let the whole neighbourhood know what a desperate slut you are for me."

He leans down, taking the metal chain between his teeth. He bites down, making you scream as he tugs sharply on it.

Broken moans and gasps are all you can manage as Aemond relentlessly pounds the pink plastic into your dripping, aching pussy. Your mind has gone completely blank, focused solely on the desperate, all-consuming need to feel his hard, throbbing cock filling you.

You can't form a coherent thought beyond my animalistic craving. The world has narrowed down to the exquisite agony of the clamps biting into your tender nipples, the obscene slap of plastic against your soaked folds, and the dark, dominant presence of the man wielding them.

Aemond's eye gleams with sadistic lust as he watches your pleasure climb, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of climax. He can see the desperation in your glassy, unfocused gaze, hear it in your broken, slutty moans. He knows he has you exactly where he wants you, teetering on the knife's edge of ecstasy, begging to be fucked stupid by his cock.

He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Beg me for it, slut. Beg me to fuck this needy cunt like the desperate little girl you are." Aemond punctuates his words with a sharp thrust of the dildo, grinding it against your throbbing G-spot.

"Please, please fuck me!" You sob, your hips bucking wildly against the toy, chasing your rapidly approaching climax. "I need your cock so badly, Aemond. I'm so fucking close. Please, please let me come on your cock. I want you to ruin me, fucking destroy me until I'm a drooling, cock-drunk mess. Please, I'm begging you! I can't fucking take this anymore."

You can feel your pussy clenching and fluttering wildly around the thick shaft, splitting you open. But you know you can't come without Aemond's permission.

Aemond smirks cruelly, amused by your desperate, sobbing pleas. He can feel your greedy cunt clenching and fluttering around the dildo, your body trembling on the precipice of climax. But he's not ready to let you come just yet. Not until he's fully satisfied his own dark desires.

He pulls the toy out of your dripping pussy with a wet squelch, leaving you empty and aching. You wail and cry in protest, your cunt feeling abused and unsatisfied. Aemond chuckles wickedly, enjoying the sight of you suffering.

"You want to come, little slut?" Aemond purrs, his voice a dark, dominant rumble. "Then beg me properly. On your knees, hands behind your back, and put that filthy mouth to good use." He gestures to his straining erection, the thick outline of his cock clearly visible through his jeans.

You scramble off the bed, your heart pounding in anticipation as you kneel submissively before Aemond. You sit back on your heels, hands clasped behind your back just as he ordered, the picture of obedient eagerness.

Aemond lounges on the bed, the smug smile playing at the corners of his mouth, making your core clench with desire. You watch, hardly daring to breathe, as his hand unzips his jeans. Your eyes widen as his thick, hard cock springs free, the sight of it making your mouth water and your pussy throb.

"Please, Aemond," you breathe, your voice trembling with desperation. "Please let me worship your cock. I need to taste you. I promise I'll be a good girl, a perfect little cocksleeve for you to use however you want. Please let me show you how badly I want to please you." Even you were surprised by the filthy words spilling from your mouth, guys your own age could never get you to act like this, though they desperately tried to.

He reaches out, fisting his hand in your hair and forcing you to look up at him. "That's it, my dirty little slut," he purrs, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. "Now put that filthy tongue to work and show me what a good little cocksucker you can be."

Aemond's fingers tighten in your hair as he slowly, teasingly drags his cock over your parted lips, leaving a trail of precum that makes your mouth water with desire. He can see the way your chest heaves with each ragged breath, your nipples straining against the cruel clamps, your pussy dripping with need.

You gaze up at Aemond with wide, pleading eyes, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest. Opening your mouth wide, you extend your tongue, offering yourself for his use. You desperately need to prove to him that you can be an even better girl than your sister, that you can please and satisfy him in ways she never could.

"Fuck, look at you. Practically gagging for it, aren't you?" Aemond growls, fisting your hair tighter as he slowly, teasingly drags the swollen head of his cock over your extended tongue. He smears the leaking precum over your taste buds, letting you savour the salty, musky flavour of his arousal.

Aemond tugs your head forward, forcing your mouth open wider as he pushes the thick length of his dick past your lips. He holds you there, letting you adjust to the sudden intrusion as your jaw stretches wide around his girth.

"That's it, slut. Take it all," Aemond snarls, slowly thrusting deeper until your nose presses against his pelvis and your lips stretch obscenely around his thick shaft. He holds you there, forcing you to breathe through your nose as he grinds his hips against your face, painting your throat with his musky scent.

"That's my good little girl," he praises, his voice a dark, dominant rumble. "Now start sucking, and don't you dare use your teeth. I want to feel that filthy tongue working for every inch of my dick."

You hollow your cheeks, sucking him with desperate enthusiasm as you swirl your tongue along the underside of his shaft. Each time your head bobs down, you make sure to brush your tongue teasingly across his heavy, cum-filled sack. The filthy slurping noises and occasional gags fill the room.

Your eyes water as you struggle to take his immense size, but you don't let up. Drool trickles down your chin messily as you cherish every thick, throbbing inch of Aemond's dick with single-minded focus.

"That's my perfect little cocksleeve," he praises. "Such a good girl, choking on my dick."

He can feel every swirl and flick of your tongue, the desperate way you worship his shaft like your life depends on it. He starts to thrust into your mouth, fucking your face with deep, powerful strokes. His heavy balls slap obscenely against your chin with each pump of his hips, leaving your skin flushed and sticky with your own drool.

"That's it, take my cock like the greedy slut you are," Aemond snarls, his fingers tightening in your hair as he sets a brutal pace. "Fuck, your sister could never take it this deep. You're a natural-born cocksucker, aren't you?"

Aemond yanks your head back by the hair, pulling you off his spit-soaked dick with a wet pop. Strings of drool connect your swollen, well-used lips to his throbbing shaft. He smirks down at you, taking in the debauched sight of your glazed eyes, flushed cheeks, and the way your tits heave with each panting breath.

"Good girl," he praises darkly, rubbing the leaking head of his cock over your messy face, smearing his precum across your cheekbones like some sick war paint.

You choke and sputter as Aemond wrenches you off his throbbing shaft, gasping desperately for air. Tears and mascara streak your flushed cheeks while your chin and chest glisten with drool. You look up at him through hazy, half-lidded eyes, your voice hoarse from the thorough face-fucking he just gave you.

"T-thank you," you rasp out, your lower lip trembling slightly as you try to catch your breath. "Thank you for using my mouth as it was meant to be used... and for seeing the difference between me and my sister. I promise I'll always be a better girl for you, Aemond. Your perfect little cocksucker."

Aemond smirks down at you, taking in the debauched sight of your tear-stained, spit-smeared face. He can see the desperation and hunger in your glazed eyes, the way you gaze up at him like he's your entire world. And he knows he has you exactly where he wants you - addicted to his cock, craving his approval, and willing to do anything to be his perfect little fucktoy.

"Such a good girl," he purrs, petting your hair almost affectionately. "You've got quite the talented little mouth on you. I think I'll have to put it to good use more often."

Aemond reaches down, grabbing your chin roughly and forcing you to meet his intense, burning gaze. "And don't worry about your sister. She could never compare to you, baby. You're one of a kind, a natural-born slut for cock."

You gaze up at Aemond with adoring eyes, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest as he praises you. His perverted words make you feel cherished, and desired, in a twisted way. You can't help but blush prettily at the compliment.

"Does that mean you're going to fuck me now?" You breathe out, the desperate words slipping past your swollen lips before you can stop them. "Please... I need it. Please."

Aemond smirks wickedly as he hears your desperate plea, amused by your shameless begging. He can see the way your tits heave with each panting breath, your nipples straining against the cruel clamps. The evidence of your arousal is clear - your pussy is dripping and aching, your hips squirming with need.

"You want to get fucked?" Aemond murmurs, his voice a dark rumble. "Get on the bed. Upper body off the bed," he commands, leaving no room for argument.

Aemond watches with sadistic amusement as you scramble to obey, your trembling body quickly taking its place on the bed, upper body dangling helplessly. Your hair falls in a tousled mess across the floor. The position leaves your cunt open and exposed on a lewd display. Your heart pounds wildly against your ribs as anticipation coils tightly in your stomach.

He can see your little slit glistening, just begging to be fucked hard and deep. The anticipation is killing him, but he wants to draw this out, to make you suffer with desire before he finally gives you what you want.

Leaning down, Aemond drags his cockhead up your slit, collecting your dripping arousal. He teases your entrance, pushing just the tip inside before pulling back out. Over and over, he repeats this maddening process, letting you feel the shape and size of his cock, but denying you the deep, hard thrusts you crave.

You sob out in desperation, your body shaking uncontrollably, as he teases you mercilessly. "N-no, please, Aemond! Stop, I can't take it anymore!" Tears sting your eyes and stream down your cheeks.

Every brush of his thick cock against your aching, swollen slit sends lightning bolts of pleasure shooting through you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You've never been this sensitive, this wound up, before. The constant denial has left your nerve endings raw and exposed, craving release.

You can feel your orgasm building at an alarming rate just from his maddening teasing, your pussy clenching and fluttering wildly around nothing. If he doesn't stop, you swear you'll cum just from this alone, the shame of it only adding to your desperate arousal.

Aemond smirks cruelly, amused by your tearful pleas and the way your body writhes beneath his teasing touch. He can feel your cunt clenching around nothing, desperate for his cock, and it fills him with a sadistic sense of power.

"Stop? Oh no, baby," he purrs, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "We're just getting started."

He reaches over to the bedside table, grabbing the thick g-spot vibrator he showed you earlier. A wicked grin spreads across his face as he runs the textured tip along your dripping slit, coating it in your essence.

"This feels good, doesn't it? The way it rubs against your desperate little clit, making you shake and moan?" Aemond murmurs, circling the sensitive bud with the toy. "I'm going to use this on you next time, forcing you to cum over and over again while I watch. But for now..."

Aemond trails the vibrator up your body, brushing it over your sensitive nipples, making you gasp and writhe. He smirks as he smears it across your face, painting your cheeks and chin with your juices.

"I think it's time I fucked this needy cunt properly."

You gasped as he pushed you even further off the edge of the bed now, your heart pounding wildly in my chest as you felt like you might tumble to the floor at any moment. You hold your breath, trembling like crazy as Aemond looms over you, kneeling between my splayed thighs, gripping them tight against his body.

He's taking his sweet time, enjoying the sight of you, all vulnerable and aching for his touch.

You whimper softly, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to be brave. You want to be a good girl for him. How much you need him to ruin your fuckhole, to claim you so thoroughly that you'll be forever changed.

Aemond takes his time, drinking in the debauched sight of you trembling and aching for his touch. He grips your thighs tighter, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he pushes them further apart, exposing you completely to his hungry gaze.

He can see your little hole clenching around nothing, drooling with desperation, and it makes his cock jump with the need to be buried inside you.

Leaning down, Aemond drags the head of his cock along your slit, teasing your entrance with the promise of finally filling you. He smirks as he feels you shudder against him, knowing you're seconds away from coming undone.

Without warning, he slams forward, burying his thick cock to the hilt in one brutal thrust. Your scream of pleasure and pain mixes with the obscene squelch of your pussy being split open, your hungry pussy clenching down on his invading shaft.

He doesn't give you time to adjust and starts pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes that rock your entire body.

Your screams fill the air as Aemond ruts into you like a wild beast possessed, each powerful thrust shaking your body to its core. You feel like a helpless ragdoll being tossed about by his relentless pace. Waves of intense pleasure radiate through your nerves, pushing you shockingly close to that edge you've been teetering on.

"Oh god, Aemond!" you cry out, your voice raw and breathless from the brutal fucking. "I'm... I'm going to cum!" Tears prick the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming sensation of his thick cock finally pounding mercilessly into your tight, dripping cunt. You can feel yourself starting to gush around his pistoning shaft, your pussy clenching down on him as your orgasm builds.

Aemond lets out a dark chuckle, amused by your desperate, tearful confession. "Cumming already, baby? I haven't even really started yet," he taunts, punctuating his words with a sharp, brutal thrust. The head of his cock slams into your cervix, making you scream, your pussy clenching down hard in response.

He smirks wickedly at the feeling of your velvet walls gripping him like a silken vice. "Such a needy little cocksleeve, so hungry for my dick. I bet you'll cum a dozen times before I'm done with you."

You're sobbing now, tears streaming back into your hair as you lay upside down, utterly impaled on Aemond's massive, pulsing cock. "I-I'm so s-sorry," you choke out between haggard breaths, voice raw and wrecked. "Your cock...it f-feels...oh god...s-so good inside me!"

You can feel your climax building, your pussy clenching and fluttering wildly around his pistoning shaft. "I-I've wanted...haahh...your cock...for s-so long, Aemond," you confess shamelessly, too lost in ecstasy to care how desperate you sound. "Please...please let me cum...I need it...I need you...so badly!" You're voice rises in pitch, the words dissolving into a wail of pure, unadulterated bliss as you teeter on the brink of a mind-blowing orgasm.

Aemond grins wickedly as he feels your pussy spasming uncontrollably around his plunging cock, your tearful pleas music to his ears. He loves the way you beg and sob, completely unravelled and at the mercy of his merciless fucking.

"Do it then, you dirty girl," he growls, slamming into you with brutal force. "Cum all over my dick like the desperate slut you are. Show me what a cock-drunk whore you really are."

You screamed in ecstasy as your orgasm crashed over you, your pussy clamping down on Aemond's pistoning cock like a vice. Cream gushed out of you, flooding his shaft and dripping down onto the sheets as you trembled and convulsed.

"Ahh!" you wailed, tears of pure pleasure streaming down your face as he fucked you ruthlessly through your high. Your body shook and quaked as you surrendered completely to the mind-blowing sensations consuming you.

"Aemond!" You cried out, your voice raw and wrecked. "Oh god, yes! Don't stop, please don't stop!" Now you knew that only Aemond could make you feel this way, could fuck you with such brutal intensity that you forgot your own name.

Aemond grins wickedly, as he feels your pussy spasm and clench around him, your juices gushing out and coating his pistoning shaft. He doesn't let up, fucking you ruthlessly through your intense orgasm, determined to draw out your pleasure and make you shake apart on his cock.

His hand comes down to roughly grope and squeeze your tits, fingers sinking into the soft flesh. He tugs and pulls at the cruel clamps, twisting them slightly and making you whimper and cry out at the bolts of pain and pleasure that shoot through you.

"That's it, baby. Scream for me," Aemond growls, his hips never faltering in their brutal pace. "Let everyone know who this cunt belongs to now. Who fucks you better than anyone else."

Your body trembles uncontrollably as the intense pleasure turns into overstimulation. You whimper and squirm beneath Aemond, instinctively trying to push his muscular thighs away with your hands, but it's futile. Your fingers scrabble against the floor, seeking purchase, but there's nowhere to go. You're trapped, a prisoner to his relentless thrusts.

"Ahhh, Aemond, please! It's...it's too much! I can't...ahhh!"

You can feel every ridge and vein of his throbbing shaft as he pistons in and out of your fluttering, over-sensitive pussy. The wet, obscene sounds of your coupling fill your ears, making you blush hotly, even as you tremble on the edge of another climax.

"Please, Aemond, I...I can't take anymore. You're going to...ahhh...make me cum again!" The words spill from your lips in breathless, broken gasps as your body betrays your impending orgasm.

He reaches over to the bedside table, grabbing the small, powerful vibrator. Your eyes widen in shock as he presses the buzzing toy against your sensitive, swollen clit. The intense vibrations send electricity coursing through your overstimulated body, pushing you right to the razor's edge of another mind-blowing orgasm.

"Oh god, Aemond!" you wail, thrashing your head from side to side as the pleasure becomes almost too much to bear. Tears stream down your face, your skin flushed and glistening with a sheen of sweat as you tremble and quake beneath him.

Aemond grits his teeth, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels his balls tighten, his own release fast approaching. He grinds the vibrator hard against your clit, the intense stimulation pushing you both to the brink.

Aemond's hips start to stutter, his powerful thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own pleasure. The sight of you coming undone beneath him, tears streaming down your face, and your pussy clenching desperately around his cock, is almost enough to push him over the edge.

"Fuck, I'm going to...cum..." Aemond grits out through clenched teeth, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He wants to prolong this moment.

You let out a guttural scream, your back arching off the bed as another orgasm rips through you. "Ffffuck!" You cry out, your hips bucking wildly against Aemond's. Your clit throbs almost unbearably, the vibrator's relentless buzz pushing you past the point of no return.

"Cum on me!" You moan without thinking. "I wanna be covered in your seed!"

Aemond tosses the vibrator aside, both of you panting and shaking with pleasure. He grips your hips tightly, slamming into you one last time before pulling out abruptly. You feel empty, aching for his touch, as he stands up and towers over your trembling form.

With a low, guttural groan, Aemond starts stroking his throbbing shaft. His eyes rove hungrily over your cum-splattered body as he brings himself to a shuddering climax. Thick, hot ropes of his seed erupt from the swollen head of his cock, painting your stomach, tits and pussy in a lewd display of his pleasure.

"Fuck," Aemond growls, squeezing the last drops of cum from his shaft and smearing them across your lower lips. "Look at you, covered in my spunk, so fucking gorgeous. You were made for this, made to be my personal fucktoy."

You shudder, and your body convulses as Aemond lifts you onto the bed and carefully takes off the clamps, his strong arms enveloping you. He cradles you close, one hand gently caressing your hair, still damp with sweat and tears of ecstasy. You nuzzle into his touch, savouring the intimacy of the moment.

Your heart races as you gaze up at Aemond's handsome face, taking in the satisfied smirk on his lips. You can feel his seed, hot and sticky, painting your skin in a lewd display of your passion. The sensation makes you shiver with lingering pleasure.

"Aemond," you whisper breathlessly, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. Your eyes, still glistening with tears, meet his intense gaze. "Thank you," you mutter absentmindedly.

You press yourself closer to his muscular chest, relishing the feel of his strong arms around you. Fearing that soon this would be all over and he would eventually return to your sister.

Aemond's smirk softens into a gentle smile as he gazes down at your blissed-out, fucked stupid expression. He brushes a few damp strands of hair from your face, tucking them tenderly behind your ear. His calloused fingers linger, tracing the delicate line of your jaw.

He holds you close, his touch surprisingly tender, given the brutal passion of moments before. He gazes down at your face, taking in the way his seed clings to your flushed skin, marking you as his.

Aemond's eyes darken as he thinks about returning to his girlfriend, to a life that feels hollow compared to the intensity of this moment.

"You did so well, baby," he murmurs, his fingers playing idly with your hair. "Such a good girl, taking my cock like you were made for it." He leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, possessive kiss.

Breaking the kiss, Aemond rests his forehead against yours, his intense blue eye boring into yours. "Don't think this changes anything," he warns, his voice a low rumble. "You're still just the younger sister. A dirty little secret I can't resist fucking."

Your stomach drops as Aemond's harsh words sink in, his cruel reminder of your place in his life. You feel like you've been dunked in ice water, the euphoria of moments ago evaporating instantly. You bite your lip harshly to stop it from trembling, blinking rapidly against the sudden sting of tears.

Stupid, stupid girl, you scold yourself silently. Did you really think a few mind-blowing orgasms would change anything? That he would choose you, want you, over her?

You can feel the tears threatening to spill over, so you quickly look away, not wanting him to see the heartbreak across your face. You curl in on yourself slightly, wrapping your arms around your middle as if trying to hold the shattered pieces of your hopes together.

"Y-yes, I know exactly what I am," you whisper, your voice cracking slightly. There's a bitter edge to your words, a mix of pain and resentment. "I'm just the sister. A convenient hole for you to use when you need a quick fuck."

You feel dirty, used, and utterly miserable. But most of all, you feel foolish for letting yourself believe, even for a moment, that you could ever be anything more to him than a dirty little secret.

Aemond's gaze turns cold as he takes in your shattered expression, a flicker of guilt flashing across his handsome features before being quickly suppressed. He sees the tears you're holding back, the way your shoulders curl inwards as if trying to protect yourself from further hurt.

He knows his words were harsh, cruel even, but he can't bring himself to take them back. He won't give you false hope, won't lead you on only to abandon you when he grows tired of this twisted game.

Aemond reaches out, tilting your chin to force you to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes across your lower lip, catching the tear that slips free.

"You're a smart girl," he murmurs, his voice low and serious. "You know this can't be anything more than what it is. I have a life, responsibilities, and a future that doesn't include you."

Your heart clenches painfully in your chest as Aemond's cruel words sink in, each one feeling like a dagger twisting in your heart. You're stunned into silence for a moment, staring up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes that shimmer with unshed tears.

How could he be so callous, so heartless? You think bitterly.

You take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to stem the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. As you exhale slowly, you feel something shift inside you - a flicker of anger sparking to life amidst the pain and heartache.

"Get out," you say coldly, your voice steady and clear despite the turmoil inside you.

He hesitates for a moment, studying your face intently, trying to discern if this is just another manipulation tactic. When he sees the unyielding determination in your eyes, the set of your jaw, he realizes you're serious.

A flicker of anger sparks in Aemond's eyes, annoyed that you would dare to tell him what to do. He's not used to being ordered around, especially not by his girlfriend's sister. Part of him wants to grab you, to shake you, to remind you of your place.

But another part of him, a part he rarely acknowledges, feels a pang of...regret? No, surely not guilt. He won't allow himself to feel guilty. He hasn't done anything wrong.

Aemond rises from the bed, his muscular body unfolding with a fluid grace. He doesn't bother to dress, standing before you bare and unashamed, like Adam before Eve.

"Fine," he says coolly, his voice tight with barely restrained anger and something else he can't quite identify. "If that's what you want."

tags 🏷️

@bey0nd-1he-stars @summerposie

526 notes · View notes

munsonsmixtapes · 5 months ago

Text

I Have You Strung, Strung in My Web

Billy Hargrove x Hopper!reader

You and Billy try to make it clear that you want more, but you keep missing each other.

This series is being discontinued but you are still more than welcome to keep reading!

part one part three

The bed shakes and squeaks as Billy pounds into this girl-what what her name? Jamie? Jackie? Definitely something with a J, but that doesn’t matter. Her usually just calls her “bitch” and she responds to that quite well.

She’s responding exactly the way he wants her too, so close to coming, but he doesn’t care. He actually couldn’t give less of a fuck. He’s only going this to get over you. He knows the only way to get over someone is to get under-well in this case, on top of-someone else.

But it’s not working. In fact, all he can think about is you and the way you made him feel so good. He wants that again. He wants it so bad but he’s not going to ask you not matter how much he wants to.

You have to initiate it because if Billy does, he’s gonna look like a goddamn pussy. He wouldn’t even know how to initiate it. He’s always the one being approached, and he certainly doesn’t fuck the same girl twice. That’s not who he is.

Then what makes you so different? Why are you the one he wants to break all his rules for? He doesn’t know but he wishes he did, wishes he could make sense of his feelings. Because being around you makes him feel like he can be himself. He doesn’t have to put on that persona he does with everyone else.

He zones back in as the girl finishes and he’s never been so eager to pull out, so he does. He didn’t even come and for the first time, he doesn’t care. He just wants her out so he can be left alone.

Thankfully, she knows her place and is quick to leave without even so much as a goodbye. Billy just stands there, facing his closet, now feeling like he needs a shower. He really needs to wash off this girl’s perfume along with the entire experience because now he feels dirty.

He heads to the bathroom and as soon as the faucet is turned on, he immediately feels a lot better. He stands there as the steam fogs up the mirror and as he wipes it away and looks at his reflection, he can’t help but think that he doesn’t recognize himself. Is that a smile he sees? Who hell is that staring back at him? He has no idea but he kind of likes it.

He gets into the shower and feels himself relax. In here, no one can bother him. Not his dad, not Susan or Max, and especially not you. Then why are there flashes of the two of you showering together in his mind?

He wants to have you pinned against the wall as he fucks you senseless, showing you who’s really in control. He let you take over that one time, but if he were to fuck you again, he’d be the one in charge. That’s how he operates, how he likes it. How he needs it. He has say about anything else in his life so sex is what he relies on in order to have some control.

After he’s out of the shower, he’s thinking about calling you. You told him not to be a stranger, but he’s nervous to actually give you a call. He also doesn’t want to go ask Max for your number because he’s sure that she’ll tease him about it.

He wonders if you’ll be home if he just shows up. Or maybe Chief Hopper will be there and grill him about his intentions with you. Yeah, he doesn’t want that. He knows your dad doesn’t approve of him, that much is clear. He’s been arrested for so many fights that he’s seen Jim Hopper more than his own father.

What would Jim say if he knew what Billy and his daughter had gotten up to the other night? He definitely wouldn’t make it out of the cabin alive if he ever found out. Because you’re Jim’s little girl and he’ll always think of you as such no matter how old you get.

He decides against contacting you altogether as he gets dressed. He wouldn’t know what to do or say and figures that you’ll reach out eventually. At least, he really hopes so.

“So you really went and did it?” Steve sighs as he looks at you from where he’s sitting on his couch. He’s there for your Friday night movie you do every week and the two of you are just waiting for the others to show up.

“Yep,” you nod, knowing that he has no interest in hearing anything about it and you respect that.

“Gross,” he grimaces. “Did you…enjoy it?” He honestly just wants to make sure you’re safe and that’s it. He feels like your older brother sometimes even though you’re the same age. He just wants to protect you.

“I did, actually,” you nod, trying really hard to keep the smile off your face. “ And he did too. I sense that he’ll be calling me any minute now.” You glance at the watch on your wrist. Billy hasn’t called you all weekend which doesn’t surprise you. Calling isn’t really his thing and you don’t care anyway. You guess it was only meant to be a one time thing.

“Yeah, good luck with that pipe dream,” Steve scoffs.

“It could happen.” You’ve now crossed your arms over your chest and Steve can’t help but laugh at your optimism.

“Need I remind you that we’re talking about Billy Hargrove. He’s not me.”

“And thank god for that,” You reply as a knock sounds at the door. You head over and open it to see Robin on the other side. You usher her inside and take the six pack of beer she’s carrying as she follows you inside.

Steve takes the beer from you and takes them to the kitchen, leaving you alone with Robin. The two of you take a seat on the couch as you wait for the others to arrive. Robin is someone you feel like you can tell absolutely anything to. There are things you can discuss with her that you just can’t talk about with Steve.

You want to tell her the truth about Billy. That you’re convinced he’s the best you’ve ever had and you’re desperately waiting for him to call you. But you don’t. You can’t. You know how much she dislikes Billy and you supposed she has a right to because it’s for the same reasons why you hated him.

But now that you’ve slept with him, you’ve seen a different side of him. It was softer and gentler and you wonder why he’s not like that all the time. You’re sure that he could get more women into bed if he behaved just a little bit more like Steve. But the day that happens is the day Hell freezes over.

“So what’s new with you?” She asks, scooting closer just in case there’s something you want to say that you don’t want Steve to hear.

“Just been reading,” you reply, which is partially true. You have been reading a lot. So much so that you’ve already finished all the books you own and had to buy a couple more to hold you the last couple weeks of summer.

She eyes you suspiciously and you know that she can tell that there’s something you’re not telling her. She always can. But your lips stay zipped. She’s not getting anything out of you. And you can’t imagine how she would react when you told her that you slept with Billy Hargrove.

“What have you been up to?” You ask, giving her a little nudge. “How has it been with Vicky?”

“Really good,” she replies and you can see a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

“Good,” you nod. “I’m really happy for you, Rob.”

“And I’m happy for you,” she nudges you back. “With whatever you’ve got going on.” She winks then stands from the couch. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

“Robin-“ you’re about to chase after her, but there’s another knock at the door before you can. Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, and Eddie are on the other side, all holding what you asked them to bring except for Eddie who always conveniently forgets every time. You’re not even sure why you even ask anymore.

You usher them all inside and once all of the snacks are on the coffee table, they all take their favorite spots in Steve’s living room. You’re on the couch next to Steve and he starts up the movie which just so happens to be a horror movie that he’s actually terrified to watch.

As you look around at your friends, you hate that you’re wishing that Billy would call, even worse, that you want him right next to you as you cuddle into his chest. You want to cuddle into his chest at the particularly scary parts as he comforts you, telling you that he;s going to be okay as he rubs your back sympathetically. What is wrong with you? Why are you even thinking about him in that way? You slept with him once and automatically think he’d want to be your boyfriend? This is Billy Hargove and Billy most certainly doesn’t have girlfriends.

Billy keeps to himself the rest of the day. He doesn’t even go to work because he’s afraid of running into you. He doesn’t want to do something he’ll regret like telling you that he likes you or something. He just holes up in his room and thinks about nothing but you, wondering what you’re up to, if you’re thinking about him like he is about you.

You’ve fucked with his head, used some sort of sorcery on him because he’s never felt this way about anyone before. He wants to see you so badly, even just a glimpse will help. So before he can stop himself, he’s throwing on his shoes and hurrying out the door so fast that Susan isn’t even able to ask him where he’s going. To be honest, he doesn’t even know.

But when he pulls up to your house, he realizes just how crazy he is. Why is he showing up unannounced? He could have at least had the decency to call first. But that’s not him. It’s just like Billy to randomly show up without even so much as a phone call. He doesn’t know why, but he just feels like you deserve better.

He nervously knocks on the door and is taken aback when Jim Hopper answers the door. He looks like he really doesn’t want to be bothered and Billy is so close to just making a run for it. Jim is standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, surely wondering what the hell Billy Hargrove is doing at his house.

“Hargrove,” Jim greets and Billy nods, putting on his most charming smile even though he knows it won’t work here.

“Jim, hi.”

“That’s Chief Hopper to you,” he crosses his arms over his chest. “Now what do you want?” Billy really is considering leaving because he actually doesn’t know what he’s doing. But then he sees a tiny glimpse of his sister and for once, he’s actually grateful for her existence.

“I’m actually here to pick up my sister. Dinner is soon and Susan wanted to make sure that she was home for it.” He’s smiling even weirder now, so proud of himself coming up with that on the fly.

“Max,” Hopper calls out to the girl and she’s quick to head over to him, her eyes widening at seeing her brother at the Hopper residence twice in one week. “Your brother is here to pick you up.” He says the words like he doesn’t believe Billy and he doesn’t. But he’s going to let him off the hook. This time, at least.

Max heads out the door and as soon as it’s closed, leaving her alone on the porch with her brother. She glares at him, one of the few people who can see through Billy’s bullshit. He’s up to something and she knows exactly what it is. It’s no secret that there’s something going on between the two of you and she’s going to do everything in her power to get the two of you together. Why you would willingly want to spend time with Billy, though, she has no idea.

But if she’s going to help him, he’s going to do something for her. That’s the deal, the only way any of this is going to work. It’s going to take a lot of work to make Billy boyfriend material, a chore in itself, for sure. She wonders how much she can get from him if he offers to help. Because at this rate, he’s going to need all the help he can get.

“What the hell was that?” She finally asks as she follows him down the steps. He’s walking so fast that she can barely keep up.

“Nothing,” he replies as he throws the driver’s side door open, Max heading over to the passenger seat.

“Nothing, right,” she winks as she gets into the car and for once, Billy actually makes sure that she’s fully in the car before he speeds down the road.

You and Steve finish cleaning up his very messy living room after the movie. You’re the only ones left. Steve’s going on and on about how unrealistic the movie was. But you’re not listening. You’re wondering why Billy hasn’t called and you don’t know why you care. Clearly it was only meant to be a one-time thing and you were just reading too much into it.

You can get his pretty moans out of your head. Images of his head leaning backwards, those sounds falling from his lips flash across your mind. You need to just get over him. Life’s too short to be anxious about getting a call from a boy who wouldn’t have even given you the time of day of sex hadn’t been on the table. Isn’t that the only reason why he agreed to meet you?

After everything is cleaned up, you say goodbye to Steve and make your way home. Only, you’re not turning onto the right street. You turn left when you’re supposed to go right and now you’ve ended up on the road that you’ve driven down so many times. You recognize every house since you bring El here almost every day before you go to the pool.

You honestly don’t know what you’re doing. You’re not thinking straight and are clearly blinded by your anger. And why wouldn’t you be? You’re so mad at Billy and you feel like he deserves to know how you feel.

You stop in front of the house you could draw from memory then quickly get out of your car. You’re stomping up the driveway and towards the front door, knocking furiously before waiting for someone to answer it.

Just your luck, it’s Max who’s on the other side. She gives you a suspicious look but then it quickly turns almost into pity. You can do so much better than her brother and she has no idea why you’re settling.

“He’s not here,” she tells you and actually feels bad when your face falls. “You just missed him, actually. But don’t worry, I’ll tell him to give you a call.”

“Thanks Max,” you smile lamely and she mimics it before closing the door.

You make the drive home and lock yourself in your room for the rest of the night, trying your best to not stare at your phone that sits on your desk. You’re silently begging it to ring, but when it reaches midnight and there’s no call, you eventually just decide to forget about the whole thing and go to bed. From now on, in your mind, Billy Hargrove doesn’t even exist.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x hopper!reader #billy hargrove x y/n

418 notes · View notes

hyunsvngs · 2 years ago

Text

𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐧 - baseball player bfb!kim seungmin x fem reader

wc: 14.2k

cw: enemies to lovers, very mean dom seungmin, mc makes out w chan in a friend way, mc is dramatic and a brat, seungmin is done w her shit but is very possessive, SMUT MDNI

synopsis: you love your best friend, you hate her baseball playing brother. he’s not been home for a few years during your summers back home, so you can’t wait for another amazing summer - until he returns home.

a/n: thank u all for being so excited abt this <3 sorry for the length. smut warnings under the cut!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: very mean dom seungmin (again), face slapping, borderline exhibitionism, unprotected sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, heavy dirty talk, reader is a brat, breeding kink, reader is a painslut, begging

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

When you were a mere three years old, you met your platonic soulmate in the form of Kim Sieun. She had the exact same humour as you, loved climbing on the monkey bars and she had a dog. It was your three best friend criterias fulfilled. When she first invited you to her house for a playdate, you were thrilled, and you’ve been inseparable ever since.

You’ve been through everything together. Your first break-ups, your first hangovers, first parties, you name it - you’ve both been present for each other’s momentous events. You were pretty sure you’d both started your periods on the exact same day. She really was the other part of you, the second silver heart piece to your cheap friendship chain you’ve worn for years around your neck.

The biggest heartbreak was when you moved away to attend university, and Sieun stayed to begin a full-time job immediately after graduation. You’d been separated after being by each other's side for so long, when everything had been so perfect for you two up until then, only miniscule, small-term problems.

Well, perfect apart from one thing.

Her brother. Kim Seungmin was the bane of your existence. Ever since he met you, two years older than both you and Sieun, he found it funny to ruffle your hair and make fun of how shy and timid you were. It’s something you’d brush off now, being the person you grew into - confident, loud, straight up stubborn as some might say. When you were younger, though, this cut deep. You’d had your first ever crush on him, and confided in Sieun about the matter, to which she’d giggled and fake-gagged as if she wouldn’t be overjoyed to have you in the family. You’d had your first ever crush on him, and he’d made fun of you for years after as if he knew. You cannot stand him now. Even being in the same room as the guy boiled your blood.

It was one of the reasons why you got rid of that personality. That wasn’t you. You were shy and timid because you were only a kid, God damn it! You’d love to say it hadn’t affected you, but it had, and you and Seungmin had bickered ever since you gained enough confidence to fight back. It was actually something Sieun found very amusing, insisting that the two of you were fated soulmates.

Still, as you stood in the airport waiting for Sieun’s arrival to pick you up, you felt blessed. Coming home for the summer was always exciting. You got to see old friends, who would almost always have parties, and another exciting part was that you’d be staying with Sieun for a solid three weeks of it. It was going to be the best summer ever. Your parents had decided to go away on holiday two days before your arrival back home, and you couldn’t have felt more satisfied with the development.

Oh, and - Kim Seungmin would not be there. No, while you were a student busting your ass to make ends meet, Seungmin had obtained a full baseball scholarship to university and went straight into pro baseball once he’d finished. Of course he did. You tried not to let it bother you anymore, that he was so fucking successful while being so smarmy. It wound you up beyond belief, so you just avoided thinking about the guy altogether.

Clutching onto your suitcase handle, you almost vibrated with excitement when Sieun’s half-dead car pulled up. Honestly, she’d had the same car since you were seventeen, and it hadn’t been fully working then. It was even worse after a few years. She kept saying she’d get her dad to look at it, but she was always out and about doing god knows what in said half broken car. It was a death trap.

Immediately, you saw the car door swing open - and almost fall off completely - when her engine completely stopped. Sieun bustled out of the car to the loading area of the airport, her puppy eyes wide and her legs shaking. She was going to scream, or jump, or die. Maybe all three. You weren’t doing much better - your eyes brimmed with tears when you embraced Sieun in a death grip of a hug.

“I- missed- you- God, can’t breathe-“ Sieun grunted, trying to push you off. You pulled away, still with teary eyes as you gazed up at her. She was taller than you, almost matching her brother’s height. The whole family was relatively tall. As soon as you both looked at eachother, Sieun was gripping you in a firm hug again, and it was your turn to get suffocated.

Once you’d eventually stopped hugging each other and crying - it had been approximately five months since you saw each other last - Sieun loaded your suitcase into the car and all but pushed you into the passenger seat. You groaned as you kicked through multiple McDonald’s cups to try and get your feet flat on the floor. Sieun simply giggled, settling into the driver’s seat.

She plugged in her seatbelt, starting to drive back to her family home. “So, how’s college been? Any cute guys?”

“Sieun, I called you every week, you know what’s happened,” you laughed, playing around with the settings on her car to try and get the radio on. Did it even have a radio?

“The radio’s broken.” Of course it is. Well, it couldn’t get any worse - you’d already failed the Bechdel test.

You leaned back against the seat, fingers playing with the friendship necklace chain. You hummed, trying to think of something Sieun may not know. “Well, there was this one guy. Super my type. Stoic, a little bit bitchy, you know? Dark hair, and all that. But when we ended up sleeping together, there was no chemistry.”

Sieun groaned in sympathy. “You know, I hate that! You really like a guy, and then he doesn’t even know where the clit is. It really pisses me off. How’s classes though?”

Sieun normally didn’t ask this many questions straight off the bat, especially not ones she knew the answers to. She was distracting you, sweetening you up by acting like she was just so interested in you. Something was fishy, and it wasn’t the strange smell of her car. When you turned to look at her, her plump lips were pouted as usual, covered in lip gloss - but there was an unmistakable twitch to them. Her eyes were narrowed, staring at the road ahead of her. She was hiding something.

You blinked. She started humming along to a song on the radio. There was no song on. Said radio was broken. “Sieun. What gives?”

Sieun sighed, slamming her hands down on the steering wheel. “Okay! I didn’t know how to tell you. I know this was meant to be our super amazing summer, face masks and beaches and just general slaying, so I didn’t want to ruin it.”

You realised you were arriving onto her street, the big house always taking you by surprise. You wanted to focus on Sieun’s words, but you were instead distracted by the driveway. Sieun’s parents shared a car, and Sieun had her own car.

There were two cars in the driveway. Sieun’s parents’ car, a silver tank of a thing that looked like it could get through a boulder. Then, a sleeker car, perhaps closer to a sports car - much cleaner, much more expensive… with a personalised licence plate. No. No.

“My brother’s home.”

You wanted to die. Gone were your slay summer plans - now you’d be perpetually arguing with your best friend’s annoying older brother. He did absolutely everything deliberately to piss you off. Taking way too long in the bathroom brushing his teeth while you needed to pee, disconnecting the games controller when you were finally about to finish a boss fight… just petty activities like that.

Why now? Why had he chosen this summer to come home, when he’d been away for every other summer playing baseball or whatever he does? No. He didn’t deserve to be back right now. You shook your head at Sieun. “I’m not going to let him ruin our awesome summer.”

Sieun spluttered out a laugh. “Okay, Seungmin’s not the devil. You two bicker like an old married couple, y’know. Maybe there’s-“

“Shut. It.”

You didn’t have the time or the patience to hear yet another ten minute long spiel about how Sieun and her parents strongly believed that you and Seungmin were fated soulmates. The little patience you had completely disappeared when a figure bounded up to the car window. You turned to stare through the glass.

Kim Seungmin. Stood there, beaming at you with that dumb smile that he always had when he was ready to wind you the fuck up. You had thanked every single god that your window was still rolled up, maybe you could just hide until he got bored and left - until Sieun rolled the window down with an evil chuckle.

Then, you looked at him - like, really looked at him. The chubby cheeks he’d once possessed had disappeared with age, now sporting some nice looking cheekbones and a sharp jawline. The braces were gone, pearly white teeth showing with his smile, and his hair. God, his hair. He’d dyed the front of his hair blonde, and it was just slightly parted in the middle to show his forehead. He cocked his head at you, eyes glinting with menacing delight at your appearance. Oh no.

“Welcome back, brat.”

The bane of your existence had gotten fucking hot.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It had just gotten worse. Once he’d pretended to have an ounce of chivalry by helping you take your suitcase inside, Seungmin had immediately reverted to the person he was the last time you saw him. Which was a while ago, by that point, since he’d always been too busy playing baseball games to make an appearance in your life for the past few years. You hadn’t really seen him since you went to university. It honestly made you feel relieved, but now you’d seen him - well, he was definitely better looking than he had been. That fact was only reinforced to you as you walked through their long hallway, taking in all the family pictures that had been up for so many years. You were even in a few of them, chubby cheeks and acne galore as you stood with your arm around Sieun.

You’d stared at him all the way through dinner, in all honesty. After your second, adopted parents had greeted you and Sieun’s mother had cried upon seeing how much you’d grown - you hadn’t grown since you were thirteen, being on the shorter side of things - you’d all sat down to eat the hearty meal that she'd prepared. Seungmin sat in front of you in his assigned place, something you previously would’ve hated, but you could at least analyse him.

Yeah, something had changed. He was aesthetically pleasing, but you hadn’t forgotten his fucking behaviour. He was a menace. You shoved another forkful of the homemade lasagne in your mouth, furrowing your eyebrows at the boy sitting in front of you.

His eyes flickered to look at you, but you didn’t even think about looking away. His eyes were so dark. Stoic, almost, and he was like… okay, yeah, he looked like your ex-fling from college. That’s weird. It didn’t even stop you maybe bordering on finding Seungmin attractive, as much as it put you off of your lasagne to even think of the concept.

“Can you stop fucking staring at me?” Seungmin hissed, his fork clattering down to the plate with an eye watering noise. You huffed, reaching forward to stab him with your knife before Sieun yanked your hand back.

“Who said I was staring at you? I’m eating my fucking food, you heathen, and everytime I look up your ugly face is right in front of me-”

“Oh, I missed this!” Sieun’s mother smiled, her eyes fond. “Let me just get a camera, and I can take a picture of you three.”

Later on, in Sieun’s room, you both sat with your legs laid up against the headboard and sheet masks on your face. The anger was still burning in your stomach, but you were trying not to let everything revolve around him, like it always did.

“So, we’re going to watch Seungmin’s baseball game tomorrow. Mum and dad are super excited about it,” Sieun said, painting your nails where your hand laid on her stomach. You groaned, feet kicking against the wall with small thuds. Sieun’s hand paused with the tiny paint brush, turning to look at you through narrowed eyes. “You don’t think he… looks different? Everyone’s been saying that since he came home.”

“Looks different?” You snickered. “Still looks pretty fucking weird to me. Seriously, how are the two of you even related? You’re pretty, nice, funny, and he’s so fucking- ugh! I can’t even explain it, and he-”

Sieun snorted. “You think he’s hot.”

You gasped, pulling your hand away. The nail polish smeared all over your finger, which was decidedly the one you used to point menacingly towards your lifelong best friend. “I do not! He’s gotten taller, yeah. The hair’s… different, but that’s the only thing that’s changed. He’s still fucking annoying, even after getting his braces off, and-”

“And you’ve noticed all these things about him,” Sieun sighed, leaning up and readjusting her whole body to sit cross legged, facing you. She put the paintbrush back in the nail polish bottle. The sheet mask made her look a lot less friendly than she was trying to be. The Sheet Mask Murderer could be a good horror film, you pondered, as she stared at you. “Bestie, I’m not going to be upset if you have a crush on my brother, you know? I know he’s grown up in the past year, and so have you. Things could be different now, and… you could be part of the family, officially, I guess.”

You screwed up your face, shock painting your expression. The sheet mask got caught in the lines of your forehead. “You’re deranged, Sieun. You know that, right? Like, you’ve actually lost the plot this time.”

Sieun sighed, fingers reaching to peel the sheet mask off of her face. “I have always been deranged.”

“Well, yeah, there is that.”

She flopped back down next to you, dark hair splaying around her head like a halo. “We will still have the best summer. I promise you.”

“Okay, my conditions are that we have to go to a lot of cool parties, get amazingly drunk and maybe fuck one or two people. Deal?”

“Um, duh? Deal.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’d dreaded the baseball game all day. For starters, you were going to see baseball, something you had absolutely no clue about. Secondly, it was your literal enemy’s baseball game. It was also one of his pro games, and was taking place at a massive stadium where just about everyone seemed to know who Seungmin was and who his family was. You’d already had to witness Sieun posing with a peace sign for multiple selfies with fans once you’d all found your seats, and Sieun’s mother had already put an arm around you to show you exactly where Seungmin would be once the game started.

“He’ll be over there,” She pointed to a part of the field. You didn’t really care. You had no clue what baseball was or any of its rules - just that there were bats and they hit balls and ran. You decided that was all you needed to know. You weren’t going to do any research for it, not if it was him playing.

You and Sieun had dressed up, too, because Sieun had thankfully found a beach party for you all to go to later. ‘All’ sadly included Seungmin and his gaggle of just as annoying friends. The only one you really got on with was Chan, who was mature and seemed to be ageing ten times quicker due to the stress the rest of the group caused him. You both kissed when you were drunk and had agreed you were just friends who liked to kiss, which was optimal for you, really. You had decided that you would dress up nicely in a borderline slutty white dress and sandals for the party, and you had makeup on. It was most definitely for the party, and not for any other reason.

When the game started, you thought you were going to have a heart attack and die. While Sieun and her family were cheering out Seungmin’s name, all you saw was that ass in tight, pinstripe trousers. He was grinning, waving over to your section - definitely not at you, he hated you and you were literally looking at him with the most shocked expression in that moment. He looked good. You decided it was okay to admit that mentally, because no one was ever going to hear you say it. His ass looked peachy and you wanted to bite into it like it was one, and maybe see what the front of his body looked like - all of it.

It all looked good, at least when he was wearing clothes. Broad shoulders pulled that jersey tight around them, and his hat was pulled low to almost obscure his dark eyes. When he rolled his neck, clicking it out with one broad hand before grabbing the ball, you knew your panties were wet. Soaking, actually, because he looked so broad and so tall and so fucking powerful on that pitch. You’d always had a thing for men who looked like they could fuck you like you were beneath them. The fleeting thought that Seungmin would definitely do just that caused your cheeks to blaze.

Obviously, his team won. Obviously he did, because then you had to stand there afterwards when his whole family hugged him and you just stood there kicking pebbles before wincing that it hurt your bare toes. Fuck sandals. Fuck Seungmin.

Once he’d hugged Sieun, he turned to you, cheeks slightly pink from the exertion of the sport. You briefly thought about how baseball wasn’t even that tiring. One stripe of black paint on his cheek caught your eye when you looked at him. When Sieun elbowed your side, you looked up, arms folded across your chest. Seungmin blinked at you, hands in his pockets with a cocky smirk. You knew what he was waiting for.

Mumbling, you spoke - “Congrats.”

“Say it properly, brat.”

“Fuck you, I don’t say what you want me to say!” You kicked a pebble at him successfully, smiling in accomplishment when it bounced off of his knee. He simply scowled, repeating what you said in a meh bleh, bleh bleh type of way. When you let your arms drop from your chest to strangle him to the floor Bart and Homer style, Sieun gripped you by the back of your bodycon dress and dragged you back to stand next to her.

“Go get changed for the party, Seungie,” She said, keeping you in her hand like you were a rabid dog on a leash. “And you. You can’t just try to strangle my brother-”

“How did you even know I was going to strangle him?”

“Because, it’s not the first time!” Sieun shouted, stomping her feet like a child. She finally stopped holding onto you, huffing as she turned to look at you fully. Seungmin’s parents had left to get to the car, insisting on giving you all a lift to the beach where the party was held. Your parents would never. You’d lost count of how many times you had blisters from walking back from somewhere five miles away because your mother was engrossed in another show on television. Seungmin raised an eyebrow at the both of you.

“I’m gonna go get changed.” He finally spoke, waving towards the direction of the locker room. You grimaced.

“Okay, and? I don’t care,” When you watched Seungmin walk away, eyes unable to tear away from that tight ass in those trousers, you could practically feel Sieun’s own eyes boring into your face. Finally turning to look at her, you saw a slight smile on her lips. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything, bestie.”

You stormed off to the car, in a foul mood now that you’d been caught by Sieun ogling her own brother. Just to make matters worse, you had been designated to shimmy into the middle seat of the back because you were the smallest, so you’d be sat in between the two siblings. Brilliant. Just ideal, really. Thankfully, Sieun’s parents had already put the air con on. The heat of the summer had been killing you in that packed baseball stadium.

“So, what did you think of Seungmin?” Sieun’s dad asked you. He looked a lot like Seungmin actually, just an aged version with salt and pepper hair. You smiled politely, about to respond before Sieun cut you off.

“Dad, don’t. She’s already wound up.” You wanted to kiss Sieun. You could not discuss what had just happened, including the game. You’d spent the whole time drooling over the bane of your existence. When Seungmin finally got to the car, you side eyed him in order to see what he was wearing, and were more than pleased to see he was in a light grey t-shirt and baggy blue jeans. Good. Nothing tight.

The beach party was packed when you arrived there. A lot of sweaty young adults smoking weed, drinking and perched around a campfire or dancing near the portable speaker playing music quietly. All you could think about was how much you deserve a drink after the day’s events, and you were quick to drag Sieun over to Chan when you spotted him. Dark curly hair hidden under a hat and a sleeveless black tank top. Unmistakably Chan, and also unmistakably someone who would donate alcohol to a good cause.

He immediately looked up at you, his smile wide with dimples adorning his cheeks. You saw Seungmin flop down next to some other friends he had from the corner of your eye. Chan caught your attention though, handing you and Sieun a beer each. “Hello, you. Welcome back to the town.”

“Channie!” You squealed, taking the beer from him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He subsequently pulled you onto his lap and Sieun giggled, sitting in the sand next to him. You’d always been close with Chan, and you wouldn’t be lying if you said you found him attractive. Those arms showing in the sleeveless top were definitely doing something for you that night, but you weren’t sure if it was the pent up aggression from earlier. You immediately pressed the beer to your lips at the thought, swigging down a lot of the liquid.

Then, it just felt like the drinks kept coming. Over and over you were drinking beers that were handed to you by either Chan or Changbin, one of the others you were friendly with, and you found yourself becoming tipsy and slouching on Chan’s lap. The fire burned your eyes a bit when you stared into it, but you were still giggling, leaning your head back on Chan’s shoulder.

Seungmin glowered, turning to Sieun and speaking almost inaudibly. “Stop her drinking. She’s making a fool of herself, all over Chan like that.”

“They’re friends, you idiot. She’s not even drunk, they’re just always like that!” You didn’t have time to thank Sieun for defending you immediately against her own brother because Hyunjin was coming over to you with two small plastic shot glasses. One sniff of the liquid proved it was vodka, a fact you weren’t surprised about - Hyunjin loved to get utterly white-girl-wasted at any party. His smile was wide and eyes half-lidded already when he looked at you.

“This is for you,” Hyunjin whispered. His fringe almost obscured his face as he handed a shot glass to you, and offered the other to Chan. Chan held out his hand, pushing it softly back to Hyunjin. Hyunjin literally just shrugged his shoulders, toasting your own shot before knocking his own back. He didn’t even make a face when taking shots, which was probably the fact about Hyunjin you were most jealous of - along with his ethereal beauty, obviously. You grimaced when the liquid hit your own taste buds, glugging it back thankfully. You couldn’t gag on Chan right now.

The music filled your ears as the sun began to set. Someone had turned the speaker up just a bit louder, and Jisung had started to dance and embarrass himself. It was the usual behaviour. You saw Changbin chatting to some girls you and Sieun had gone to school with, and Sieun got up to go and join, leaving Seungmin chatting with the other boys on the other side of the bonfire. You sat quite happily on Chan’s lap, listening to him telling a story from work.

“I mean, it was insane. Hannie quite literally wrote this entire song in like, five minutes. We were all super drunk. I have no idea how he did it,” Chan said, hands flying everywhere in his story. You blinked at him for a moment, processing who Hannie was. Ah. Han Jisung. Hannie. The round-cheeked boy was still twerking across from you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, ‘m just a bit tipsy now,” You giggled, nuzzling into his cheek. Chan laughed at your level of clinginess, hand placed on your hip comfortingly. “Sorry, Channie.”

“That’s okay. Hey, remember a few years ago? You always wanted kisses from me and Changbin when you were drunk, heh,” Chan looked at you, eyes fond. When you finally looked into his eyes, it was like your brain caught up with what he was saying. Kisses? God, that’d be so good.

“Kisses. Oh my God,” You whispered, eyes wide. Chan threw his head back, hand over his face while he laughed this time. “Channie.”

Chan sighed, finally looking at you. “Yes? What is it?” He knew what it was. You surged forward, pressing a familiar friendly kiss to his plump lips. He raised his eyebrows in shock, pulling you back by his grip on your hips.

“I cannot kiss you right now. Seungmin is there, and he is looking at us.”

“Who cares about that guy? He’s an ass,” You mumbled, pressing your lips to Chan again. Chan sighed into the kiss, finally giving up and letting his lips brush against yours. You loved kissing Chan. It was always so fun, so familiar, just two friends making out when drunk. It was one of your favourite pastimes, to be honest. You were just getting into the kiss when you felt hands on your waist, scooping you up and throwing you over one broad shoulder. You heard Chan laugh while you were disoriented, trying to work out whose shoulder you were even on and why are you walking away from the beach party?! You were having so much fun!

“What is goin’ on?!” You shrieked, legs flailing around. You were slurring at this point, and you even heard Sieun giggling over the music. Finally, you heard a sigh as the feet of the body you had been stolen by started to wade through the sand and onto the street.

“We are going home. That’s what’s fucking going on,” Seungmin. You grimaced, wriggling to try and get off of his shoulder, but the grip he had on your body was unbelievable. “Why the hell were you doing that?”

“Doing what? Kissing Chan? I always kiss Chan.”

“I don’t want you to do that anymore, okay?” You huffed at his words, resorting to slamming your fists on his back as he walked quickly down the street. He didn’t even flinch. “Are you listening to me, brat? I don’t want you doing that.”

“You are not my fucking dad, Kim Seungmin. You don’t decide who I kiss!” You sounded like a petulant child, whining and squirming around to be put down on your feet. Finally, Seungmin grabbed your hips with both hands, placing you down on the floor. Cars were speeding past you as you both stood on the pavement. You crossed your arms over your chest, vision slightly blurry from the intoxication and body covered in sand. Seungmin didn’t look to be doing any better, beige specks of sand in his dark hair and his grey t-shirt completely covered. He shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head when looking at you.

“I may not decide who you kiss, but I’m gonna be mad if you do that again. Got it?” Seungmin was stoic, sharp as he spoke in a monotone voice towards you. You furrowed your eyebrows. What? Why did it matter? “He’s my friend.”

“Okay, and? I don’t care.” You repeated your words from earlier. Seungmin huffed, blowing a strand of blonde hair from his forehead. You looked at him. He looked at you. Then, he was turning around, walking down the road in the direction towards his house. You gasped, appalled that he’d leave you there on the side of the road like some kind of bag of trash.

After a few long strides, you heard him groan faintly in the distance. He stopped dead still, turning around to you with a grimace. “Are you coming, or?”

You stood your ground. “Nope.”

“Fine, stay there and be killed by a raccoon or something, fucking brat. Or worse, an actual murderer. Wouldn’t that be scary? A murderer just killing you while you’re standing there in your sandals. Can’t even protect yourself, can’t throw your shoe at him like you do with me because what harm will sandals do-” Seungmin stopped talking when you ran at him, eyes wide as you wrapped your arm around his own. He huffed, trying to shake your arm off of his, but you held on tightly. Your bottom lip quivered. You were such a baby when it came to scary things like raccoons and murderers.

“‘M scared now, Seungmin.” You whispered, leaning your head on his arm. You could practically sense Seungmin rolling his eyes as he wrapped his arm around you, holding you close to his warm body.

“Only five minutes now. Five minutes and we’ll be home, okay?” You nodded, trying to keep up with the strides of his long legs.

In bed that night, laying in Sieun’s bed sans Sieun, you couldn’t help but wonder just what the fuck that was. Seungmin was almost nice for a moment. Sure, he’d had that weird freak out about you kissing Chan - that was strange - but then he’d not left you on the side of the road. A few years ago, he would have left you on the pavement and then proceeded to go get a car to run you over on said pavement. He had changed.

Kim Seungmin was hot. You’ll admit that, unfortunately. But now Kim Seungmin was hot and he had morals, too.

That one would be hard to process.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The next morning, you were woken up by Sieun’s arm across your forehead and her soft snores in your ear. You briefly felt extremely guilty for making sure she hadn’t gotten home safe, but judging by her still sleeping, she’d left after you’d fallen asleep. You wanted to wake her, to ask her what the fuck her brother’s deal was, but you settled on heading downstairs to get some breakfast and calm your stomach. It felt like a bomb had gone off in there.

You started to make your way downstairs to get breakfast, but you walked straight into Seungmin’s chest as soon as you left Sieun’s bedroom. He stood with a mug of coffee in his hands, blinking down at you like you were, in fact, a bomb that had just gone off in front of him.

You stared up at him, eyes wide. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Move, brat.”

Oh. So he was just going to forget him being borderline nice ever happened? What a fucking- ugh! You scoffed, looking down at the coffee.

“You know this isn’t your room right, dumbass? Take your coffee into your own room.” Seungmin rolled his eyes, barging past you to stand by the door.

“It’s for my sister, dumbass.” You wanted to ask where’s mine, then, but Seungmin would only laugh at you and move on with his life. It annoyed you beyond belief that Seungmin had actually been nice to you the night before and then continued to act like absolutely nothing happened. You wanted to positively kick him across the face like the Mortal Kombat games he used to unplug your controller on.

Still, you had hope for the summer. Two straight days of hell would not change your mind. You just had to get through today, a chill, relaxing day with Sieun where you both nursed slight hangovers and probably cried over making mistakes the night before. Then there was hope for some fun tomorrow.

Tomorrow was the annual camping trip with your friend group. It only went on for one night, in the woods close to your actual home a few streets away, but it was something everyone looked forward to. Unfortunately, given that your friend group was also Seungmin’s friend group, and that he was back now, it meant he would be there. This was unlike the annual camping trips before, and you were dreading his presence. You just had to avoid him, and he wouldn’t stop you kissing your friends. He wouldn’t stop you having fun if you just acted like he wasn’t there. The thought made your blood boil.

You hid in the bathroom until you heard Seungmin’s footsteps recede back into his bedroom, and then you emerged. Fuck breakfast. You needed a good heart-to-heart with your best friend. Stomping back into the bedroom, you were met with Sieun’s eyes still only half open, just about emerging from above the mug.

“Oh, hey,” Sieun mumbled. She blew the hot liquid in the cup and then took a sip, humming with satisfaction. You stood there, arms crossed across your chest and foot tapping with annoyance. Sieun looked at you. You looked at her, a frown on your lips. She sighed. “What’s he done now?”

“Well, what the fuck was last night, Sieun?!” You exclaimed, throwing your body down on the bed. Sieun snorted, sounding like she was holding back a laugh. “Sieun, he picked me up and took me from a party. What was that? And, and! On the way home, he was kind of being… nice?! Then, just now, this morning, he was being absolutely horrible again!”

“And this annoys you because…? You’re always horrible to each other, sweetie.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” You huffed, turning over to scream into a pink heart pillow on Sieun’s bed. “He’s coming tomorrow, too. Like, as if it could get any worse!”

Sieun hummed. You heard the mug clink onto the bedside table, probably to live next to another ten mugs for about three weeks. “I’ll make sure he’s on his best behaviour.”

You grumbled into the fabric. Then, as if you’d completely forgotten about it, a blurred memory came into your head. I don’t want you doing that anymore. He’d said that in confidence, stood there in front of you, all long legs and pouty lips forming the words. “He… he said he didn’t want me kissing Chan anymore.”

Sieun spluttered. “He- he what?! Why would he say that?”

You shrugged. “D’no. Weird though. It… it made me feel weird. Like, almost shy. I don’t know.”

“That’s because you have a big old crush on my brother. We’ll address that later, though, because it seems my brother may have a big old crush on you,” You lifted your head, blinking at her. The drink had gone to her head last night. She was now clinically insane, beyond deranged by the sounds of it. Her eyes were peering out of the window opposite her bed in deep contemplation. “I mean, it makes sense. You two do bicker like an old married couple, but maybe that’s your shtick.”

“I do not have a big old crush on your brother. He does not have a big old crush on me. We are mortal enemies.”

“Mmhm, okay, honey. We’ll see what happens tomorrow, yeah?”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You didn’t sleep a wink the night before the camping trip. Of course you didn’t. Your thoughts were riddled with stupid remarks and baseball uniforms and long legs looking amazing in said baseball uniforms. Eventually, you’d actually cried a bit, just wanting him to leave your mind. Then, you felt pathetic crying over a man. That disgusted you beyond belief.

It had you thinking that Sieun may have been onto something. Maybe you did have a stupid crush on her brother. Maybe it had never left, ever since you’d caught sight of his chubby cheeks and mop of dark hair when you were both little. You’d have to just overcome it. Arguing with him would probably help, and you did that everyday, so it’d be fine. Manageable, at least, so long as he kept his goddamn nose out of your business. You’d had stupid crushes on people before, and you knew this one could leave very easily and very quickly.

Unfortunately, due to the lack of sleep, you had been forced to smother your eye bags in concealer that was maybe a shade too light. Seungmin had commented on this when you and his sister loaded your stuff into his pristine car, grimacing at the sight of you.

“You look like a ghost, brat.” You had immediately tried to rub the concealer off with your fingers, and now it was just a smeared mess on your otherwise decent skin. Fuck that guy. Fuck Kim Seungmin. Fuck yourself, too, because why were you trying to adhere to what he said?

It had still been plaguing your mind when you laid next to the lake in the woods while everyone drank around you. You had taken your premixed cocktail in a can to the lake not too far from the lake, and were perched in your blue bikini trying to get somewhat of a tan. Your skin was only blazing with anger, not sun. All of a sudden, you heard some branches snapping, and opening your eyes served you with the face of your best friend.

“Truth or dare. C’mon, everyone’s playing.”

You were lugged back to the campsite, groaning with your can still in your hand. Chan perked up immediately at the sight of you, patting his lap in invitation.

You went to walk over, smiling at his dimpled cheeks, but quickly turned to Seungmin. “Sorry, Channie, I should probably check if I’m allowed first.”

Everyone erupted in roars, even Chan, who dragged you by your waist onto his lap while still giggling. Seungmin practically glowered, eyes staring you down with the anger within him.

“Let's start with you then, brat,” Seungmin said, motioning towards you with the hand wrapped around the neck of his beer. “Truth or dare?”

You pretended to think. You always chose the same thing. “Truth.”

“Boring!” Sieun screamed, her pink bikini strap slipping down her shoulder. Changbin used two fingers to push it back up into place. Always a gentleman. “Okay, what is the biggest lie you’ve ever told?”

Seungmin turned to Sieun, displeasure written all over his features. “It’s literally meant to be me asking the question.”

“I don’t care.” Sieun shrugged. She also knew what the biggest lie you’ve ever told is, judging by the smirk on her face when she turned back towards you.

You smacked your lips together. Okay. If he had a crush on you, it would be instantly severed in that moment, because you were about to wholeheartedly tell the truth. “Seungmin, I was the one who broke your PS4. I spilled coffee over it.”

“What?! You fucking brat!” Everyone screamed again, Chan howling with laughter at Seungmin’s exasperation. “Tell me that you aren’t serious. You told me that-“

“I told you that the dog peed on it?” You giggled. Seungmin nodded, eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, no. It stank of coffee, so you’re kinda dumb for believing me in the first place.”

Seungmin huffed. His cheeks were red, breathing heavy. Oh, he was so mad. Good. You lived your life specifically to piss Kim Seungmin off.

“Okay, Seungmin. Truth or dare?” Changbin spoke up. He didn’t need to speak up, because his voice was like a foghorn already. Seungmin sighed again, turning to the shorter male.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss Dahyun.” You turned to the girl in question. She was quite quiet, only speaking when spoken to, but you and Sieun had been friendly enough with her back in high school. She’d been close with Chan, though, and had kind of stuck with the group since. You thought she didn’t even like Seungmin either, but the way she perked up at the statement said otherwise.

Seungmin, however, was still looking very pissed off. He put his beer bottle on the floor, sighing as he made his way over to Dahyun. You heard Jisung giggling, making lewd comments and noises in Minho’s ear, who just pushed him off with a sigh of fondness. All of a sudden, Seungmin’s lips were pressed to hers. You could see everything. Tongue and spit swapped between the two, and you found yourself turning to look at your drink instead. Awkward.

It made you feel awkward. More than that, though, it kind of made you feel weird. You weren’t sure of the emotion exactly, but you knew you wanted to leave instantly and never see Seungmin or Dahyun ever again. You also wanted to scream. Especially when you finally let yourself look up, when the cheers receded to murmurs and Seungmin had pulled away from Dahyun, looking straight at you.

You locked eyes with him, blinking. Then, you saw fucking red.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You blurted, seeing Seungmin’s eyes widen at your outburst. Dahyun’s eyebrows raised, looking at you with fear. You turned to her with a timid smile. “Not you. Him. The bastard you kissed seems to think he can tell me what I can do, who I can kiss, yet he seems to be doing whatever he wants? Is this a joke, Kim Seungmin?”

Sieun laughed awkwardly from her position next to Changbin, rising up onto her feet. “Okay, perhaps this doesn’t need to happen right now-“

“No, let the brat speak to me how she wants. It’s not going to fucking end well, and she knows it,” Seungmin spoke, throwing his beer bottle down on the floor exasperatedly. He stood up, light blue baggy jeans looking slightly brown with the mud and an oversized jersey falling off of broad shoulders. You took in his appearance with nothing but an angered expression, cheeks burning with rage when you realised he still looked really fucking good with his hair dyed like that. Something about him shouting at you was turning you on, too, but you decided to address that at a later date. “I told you not to kiss Chan for a good reason.”

You scoffed. You could practically hear Chan’s hair turning to grey from stress behind you. “Oh, yeah? What reason is that? He’s my friend.”

“You should- you should only kiss people you like. People you’re interested in,” Seungmin was shouting now, finger pointing at you determinedly. You rolled your eyes, making him stomp his foot in the mud.

“I guess that means that you like Dahyun then, huh?” You said, remembering to give Dahyun another smile. This really wasn’t against her. She was sweet, and she hadn’t done anything wrong. Kim Seungmin just grinds your fucking gears.

You realised way too late that maybe you didn’t want to know the answer to the question that you’d so loudly shouted.

Seungmin ran his hand through his hair, licking his lips. You tried to avoid staring at his mouth when he eventually retorted. “Maybe I do, brat. What’s it to you?”

You blanched. It was nothing. It was nothing to you, really, but you definitely couldn’t back down now, even if you could sense the rest of your friendship group feeling slightly awkward in the wake of tension. You folded your arms over your chest, staring Seungmin down while you searched your brain earnestly for something that would hurt.

“It’s nothing to me. I don’t give a fuck about you, Seungmin.”

Seungmin looked like he’d stopped breathing, staring at you with intensity in his eyes. You couldn’t quite work out what emotion they held, but you had a feeling that you may have gone a bit further than your normal bickering. It was only a matter of time, really, with you having a very short temper and all.

As if it had never even happened, Seungmin rolled his neck and shrugged. He sat back down on the floor with a flurry of movement and with another shift, his arm was around Dahyun and he was pulling her close. She looked like she wanted to run very far away, but then Seungmin was handing her another beer and it was apparently fine.

Changbin cleared his throat. “Okay, shall we continue?”

The rest of the night went with seemingly no hitches. Everyone drank, sang, danced, and the tents were slowly filling up with people retiring from the night, their skin still dewy with the water from the lake close by. You even managed to avoid getting riled up by the bastard sitting opposite you, so that was an achievement in itself. Eventually, you retired to the tent you, Sieun and Chan had been designated, limbs stiff from sitting down for so long.

Wiggling into your sleeping bag, you zipped up the fabric with your whole body inside like a cocoon. You could hear mumbling and giggles from the next tent over, but choosing to ignore it, you shifted over to face Chan. He was still awake, scrolling through his phone. You weren’t sure the guy ever fucking slept, in all honesty. Sieun snored behind you steadily, the sound of cicadas breaking up the noise of her heavy slumber.

Chan blinked up at you, locking his phone when he saw you were still awake. The moonlight just about seeped through the walls of your temporary home for the night and you could see his features, sharp as always. He grinned at you, pulling you closer by your sleeping bag. “So.”

“So,” you agreed, nuzzling into his bare shoulder. The summer heat was still present in the night, although mild, and he’d clearly chosen to not overheat with his chest bare. “This whole night was really weird, Channie. My life is really weird right now.”

“Tell me about it,” Chan hummed, fingers scratching on your scalp soothingly. “How long?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Chan simply looked at you earnestly, his lips in a tight smile. “How long… what?”

“How long since you’ve liked him?” Chan whispered, clearly registering the noise from the next tent over. You blanched, before realising that well - you could lie to Kim Sieun, Kim Seungmin and yourself, but you couldn’t lie to Bang Chan. He was too kind, too dear to you in a different sense to what Sieun was.

“I dunno what it is, but I’m ignoring it,” you responded, even quieter than his whisper. “It’s weird. Makes me feel weird.”

Chan let out a silent laugh, chest shaking next to you. “Crushes tend to do that, babe. They make you feel all weird and fuzzy.”

“Kim Seungmin does not make me feel weird and fuzzy, Channie. I can’t stand him.”

“You can’t stand him because he makes you feel weird and fuzzy, and maybe it’s about time you realised that.”

You huffed, turning over to press your back against his chest, despite being separated by sleeping bags and extra fabric. Chan shuffled closer, pulling you in for a cuddle nonetheless. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head, murmuring, “you can’t avoid him. I know you want to, but you can’t. He’s your best friend’s brother.”

Unfortunately, this was something you had already recognised. Staring at Sieun’s sleeping figure reminded you that yeah, he was your best friend’s brother, and while a relationship between you and him would never fuck anything up… well, an unrequited crush might. It would be too awkward. That’s why you swore you were going to ignore him.

You had to go back to hating Kim Seungmin.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Fortunately, it was a lot easier than you’d anticipated. You’d managed to avoid him in his own home. You didn’t even see him in the hallways, sticking to showers late at night while he was always showering in the early morning, and you and Sieun had been eating out nearly every day to avoid family dinners. It almost felt rude, but with Seungmin, being rude was not possible. He was the epitome of rude.

Rude, brazen, and with zero morals. You’d almost forgotten that in the haze of him being nice once and looking pretty all the time. Sure, he was aesthetically pleasing, and maybe he was exactly your type. But you were never going to forget the history between you ever again, not if you put your mind to it.

However, the concept of your own morals slipping to actually possibly like Seungmin had ruined your days since. You just couldn’t believe yourself! That’s Seungmin you were very nearly lusting over. Your mortal enemy, the bane of your existence. Who cared if he’d gotten hot?

Apparently, you did. As you stood in a party with Sieun dancing around carelessly, you were clutching your drink tight and thinking of your enemy. The drink limited your inhibitions, making you able to think more freely. Why did he look at you like that after kissing Dahyun? Why did he stop you kissing Chan? Why did-

“Why are you still overthinking? We’re at a party!” Sieun hollered, the drink in her cup threatening to slosh over the edges with her dancing. You shook your head, putting on your best fake smile.

“I am having the bestest time,” You insisted, smiling and starting to do a little jig to the music. The house party, held at Changbin’s literal mansion, was slowly filling up. You and Sieun had retired to the kitchen to down a few drinks so that you felt less awkward and could start going feral with the rest of the party, but the more drinks you had, the more you got inside of your own head. This wasn’t like you. You were the party girl, the girl who everyone had awaited return to the town - you wanted to scream and stomp your feet like a child.

“You’re totally not, honey,” Sieun mumbled, seeing the look in your eyes. You sighed, downing back the concoction in your cup. You’d worn another slutty dress to the party, done your makeup and hair and now it was all going to waste. “Are you sure you don’t wanna head back?”

You shrugged. “I mean, if you want to, we can.”

Sieun’s eyes widened. “Well, I was just- I was gonna call you an Uber, and get you home. I’m gonna stay, y’know, it’s Changbin’s house, and… yeah.”

And she wanted to make out with Changbin. She was so valid for that. You sighed again, looking around at the kitchen. The party was a bit too much for you right now in your utterly discombobulated headspace. Maybe you should go back, just chill for the night, sleep. It was probably for the best, or you’d ruin Sieun’s night too by being so awkward.

“Ah. Yeah, okay, maybe it’s best if I go home,” You looked at Sieun, who was beginning to eye up Changbin. He was in a pretty intense game of beer pong with Jisung, and both parties were screaming their heads off. You didn’t want to stand between Sieun and her destiny, her fate. Sieun turned back to you, a glint in her eye. “Alright, would you call me an Uber? But um, maybe I should go to my house. Y’know, since-“

“He’s at practice,” She said, shaking her head. “Not home. Don’t worry, he won’t be home for a little while.”

You frowned, checking the time. It was 9pm. Did practice go on this late? You let yourself accept her statement anyway. You still had no clue what happened in baseball, or what happened in baseball practice nonetheless. It could go on until 3am for all you knew. Sieun pressed a few buttons on her cracked phone before she was grinning, sending you a thumbs up.

“All done. He- the driver, he’ll be here in five. Good?” You nodded, giving her a quick hug. “You need me to wait outside with you?”

“No, no,” You shook your head. You couldn’t ruin her night even more through your petty questioning of why, why, why. After giving Sieun a quick kiss on the cheek, you made sure she went straight over to Changbin and was safe before you left the house. It took you a solid five minutes to even try to wade through the bodies and you were thankful you were leaving - you really didn’t have the headspace for that.

Standing outside, you rubbed your hands over your arms to try and gain some warmth. You’d never been great with cold, and although the summer nights weren’t as biting on your skin, it was still unpleasant when you didn’t have the body of a friend next to you. It was also your fault for wearing a strapless minidress that was about two seconds from falling down or riding up, or both.

The car really only took five minutes. You were thankful for this, as Ubers were inherently unreliable and it was getting colder, and way too loud in the house behind you. Scurrying down the front steps, you didn’t look at the car until you were about a foot in front of it, looking up at the vehicle.

The car was very familiar. You weren’t sure if the few drinks you’d consumed had made your eyesight go funny, but… no, that definitely was Sieun’s car. You could see inside the car, a lot cleaner than when she picked you up from the airport but still looking half broken. And… Oh God. She’d really done you dirty this time.

Seungmin was sitting in the driver’s seat, and he rolled the window down upon your arrival. “Are you getting in?”

“No.” You blurted, arms crossed over your chest. “Why are you driving Sieun’s car?”

“Mine’s in for a service,” He responded, eyes racking over your figure. “You look freezing, brat. Get in.”

“No.”

“I’m not going to have to get out and grab you, am I?” He said, eyes narrowing at you. You blanched. He was kinda scary tonight. With a sigh, you made haste to the other side of the car, and heard him mumble “thought not”.

You buckled up your seatbelt when in the passenger seat, and tried to reach over to fiddle with the aircon. The car was cold, too, and you found yourself even more on edge now that you were sitting with Seungmin in a confined area.

Fiddling with the aircon, you felt Seungmin bat your hand away. “It’s broken.” You turned to look at him, completely silent, and then you saw it. He was in his baseball uniform. Tight pinstripe trousers on those long legs and a loose jersey on his upper body, hair almost flattened from his hat. It still looked good, blonde streaks breaking up the dark mop of hair on his unfairly pretty face.

“Hello?” He waved a hand over your face. “Are you deaf now, brat? It’s broken.”

“Yeah, sorry,” You mumbled, turning to face out the window. You sensed Seungmin tensing, before he sighed and started the engine to the car. The car started to speed away from Changbin’s house before you even recognised it, too holed up in your head.

Seungmin sighed again when you were still silent, no noise circulating the small space of the car. “What’s wrong with you lately?”

You turned to him, blinking. “Huh?”

“I’m asking what’s wrong with you lately. I’ve barely seen you. You haven’t been bickering at me, haven’t tried to physically fight me lately. What’s going on?”

You screwed your face up in confusion. “You don’t even care, Seungmin, so why are you asking?”

“Of course I care,” Seungmin’s eyebrows furrowed. He was staring at the road, not looking at you even as your eyes raked over his body unashamedly. “I don’t completely hate you, brat. You just piss me off a lot of the time. So, what’s wrong?”

Gazing at the bulge in his trousers, you realised you needed to stop being so thirsty and reply. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Why did you say that? Why was that the thing that came out of your mouth?

“Funny, because you seem to always want to talk,” Seungmin snickered, one hand tight on the steering wheel. His other arm rested on the armrest, looking the epitome of comfort and relaxation while you felt like you were dying. His remark made you burn with anger. How dare he? You don’t even talk that much, really. “I mean, can’t really get you to stop talking, so-”

“Shut up!” You shrieked. “You wanna know what’s wrong? You. You’ve been pissing me off so much lately, Seungmin. First, it’s the baseball uniform. Like, do the trousers have to be that tight?! Then, you stop me kissing Chan, and make me like, reconsider our whole dynamic for a hot second. Oh, and then, you kiss Dahyun, and that just- that just made me feel all weird. I didn’t like it, I felt weird.”

It was silent for a beat. Another beat passed, and Seungmin was brushing his tongue over his teeth in silent thought. Then, he was pulling into a layby on the side of the quiet road you were driving down, and he unbuckled his seatbelt. The engine switched off and Seungmin turned to you, eyes gazing directly into yours.

“Feel weird how?” He questioned. You scoffed.

“What do you mean?”

“How did it feel weird, brat? You felt confused, maybe a bit sick, awkward even? Upset?” All the emotions Seungmin was quick firing at you had you nodding. You had felt all of those things. Then, all of a sudden, Seungmin was lunging towards you and pressing his plump lips against yours. You gasped, hands going to his broad shoulders. When you felt the material of his baseball jersey, you realised you kind of didn’t want to pull away, and you brushed your lips against his in a response to his movement.

When a second passed, Seungmin’s tongue was pressing into your mouth with fervour, one large hand going to the back of your head to keep you in place. You whimpered into the kiss, your tongue dancing against his and your fingernails digging into his shoulders. When Seungmin eventually pulled away, you chased his lips subconsciously, pouting when he just stared at you.

“How did that feel?”

“Seungmin-”

“How did that feel, brat? Fucking answer me,” His thumb swiped across your bottom lip, slick with spit from his filthy kiss. You moved to encase his thumb in your mouth, keeping eye contact as your tongue swirled around it.

Letting his tongue drop out of your mouth, you undid your seatbelt, moving closer to the figure next to you. “Felt good.”

Seungmin hummed, hands moving to grab your hips. He effortlessly lifted you onto his lap, your core settled right on top of the bulge in his fucking baseball trousers. You squirmed, hands moving to brush his hair out of his face. It was a strangely intimate moment, your fingers in his hair. “It feels good because we like each other.”

“Mm, no. Not possible,” You insist. Seungmin’s lips turned up into a smile, his eyebrow raised. “We bicker all the time, and-”

“And you got just so pissed at me kissing Dahyun, just like I lost it over you kissing Chan. I saw you staring at my ass in my game, and in all honesty, I’m staring at your thighs in that dress right now.”

You look down at your thighs. They were spread immodestly, plush flesh slung over Seungmin’s thinner legs. Your dress had ridden up with your movement, and your core was barely covered by a strip of black lace that you referred to as underwear. It could barely be considered as underwear. Turning your attention back to Seungmin, you saw him still staring at your thighs, a hungry look in his eyes.

“But- we argue all the time. You boil my blood, to be honest,” You admit, feeling a bit sheepish sitting on top of him like that. Seungmin let out a small laugh, hands moving to brush up and down your thighs. The feeling of his warm hands on your bare skin made you sigh, inching closer for more touch.

“You piss me off too. You piss me off so much, I want to fuck you until you’re screaming my name and crying. Is that fucked up?” Seungmin spoke, licking his lips. His attention went up to your own lips, to which you were nervously biting your bottom one. “I liked you when you were shy and quiet and you barely spoke. When you became stubborn, and outspoken, I liked you even more. It made me want to fuck you into submission, brat.”

You could literally feel yourself getting wet. Fuck you into submission? Now that sounded fucking amazing. You weren’t surprised he had the exact same sexual interests as you. You were a brat through and through. It’s where the nickname came from, after all.

“Fuck me then,” You kissed his lips chastely, feeling him groan deeply into your mouth. He entertained you for a few seconds, a filthy swap of spit and tongue before he was pulling away. Your chest heaved, fingers digging into his shoulders once again. “Fuck me. Please, I’ll beg! I don’t care, just-“

“Shut the fuck up, brat,” Seungmin admonished. Your mouth instantly clenched shut in reaction, toes curling in your shoes. He threw his head back, eyes shut as if he was trying to control himself. He was just as affected as you. After a moment passed, he looked back at you, eyes still just as dark. “I’m not fucking you in Sieun’s car. I’ll take you home and fuck you nice and full in my bed. Does that sound good?”

You found yourself nodding, and Seungmin let you reposition yourself back in the passenger seat. You had never felt more excited in your life. Except, when he tried to start the ignition with the key, the car spluttered a few times and then stopped altogether. You blinked at the car. Seungmin took in a sharp inhale of air. He tried to turn the key again, and the car rocked as if in protest, but didn’t start. It was dead.

“Okay, fuck me in the car then?” You questioned, turning to face Seungmin again. You saw him almost laugh, lips curling, before he was shaking his head at you.

“I like you too much to treat you like that.”

“Seungmin, you treat me badly everyday. It’s our whole thing.”

“Well, yeah, but you’re my girl now. It’s different. We’re still going to bicker like mad, but I’m not having our first time be in a fucking car. Especially not one owned by my sister,” Seungmin sighed, long fingers reaching into his pocket. He clicked a few buttons before he landed on Chan’s contact. It didn’t even ring once before Chan picked up. “Hey, old man. So, we’re stuck in Sieun’s car, it’s finally died. No, I’m not with Sieun. Yes, I’m with her. Chan, can you stop asking questions and just come and save us?”

Your chest was still heaving when you heard rushed murmurs. His girl? He’d called you his girl, and surprisingly… you weren’t all that mad about it. He was sexy, and he was rude. But wasn’t that your type anyway? Taller than you, stoic, bitchy and could actually fuck you good. The last statement was something you had no doubt about, the way he’d effortlessly moved you onto his lap like that… you were squirming in your seat just thinking about it, clenching your thighs together. You didn’t even hear the click of the phone when Seungmin hung up, still focused on trying to get some friction on your core.

“Stop being a brat,” Seungmin demanded. You pouted, turning to him, to which he met your gaze with a steely glare. “I’m sure you can wait until we get home. Chan’s on his way.” How fucked up is it that even though he’s still being mean, he’s just making you like him more?

It wasn’t long before Chan’s sleek black car pulled up in front of Sieun’s. Luckily, you’d parked on a housing street where not many cars passed, so it’d be alright for Sieun’s car to stay there until the morning. Seungmin was instantly unbuckled and out of the car, baseball uniform tight on his legs as he walked over to your side. When you got out of the car, you expected him to walk away from the car straight away, but he had his arm around your waist tightly as if he was escorting you to the other vehicle. You even saw Chan’s confused expression in the driver’s seat.

Chan only looked more confused when Seungmin followed you into the backseat and sat next to you, leaving no space. “Uhm, so. Back to yours then, Seungmin? We can sort the car tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin agreed, quiet as his warm hand went to rest on your thigh. Subconsciously, your legs spread to allow him access, and you heard him sigh next to you. Chan started the engine, speeding off down the road. He seemed on edge, turning the radio up loud.

You stared at the rearview mirror, seeing Chan focusing on the expanse of road in front of him. With one of your boldest ever moves, you grabbed Seungmin’s hand, placing it on the front of your panties where you were soaking through the lace. Seungmin leaned in close, lips brushing against your ear.

“You want me to finger you while he drives us home? That’s dirty, pup,” Seungmin murmurs. You let out a shaky breath, head rolling onto his shoulder. “Maybe I shouldn’t. You’re too desperate, I don’t think you’ve worked for it yet. Let’s make out a little, how’s that?”

You nod eagerly, fingers moving to grasp on his biceps. “Yeah- I need something, Seungmin. I think I’m going to die, you’re so hot in that fucking uniform, I-“

“You’re filth,” Seungmin groaned. “Fucking- c’mere.” His hand went to the back of your head, yanking your hair back before his lips were pressed against yours.

His tongue pressed his spit into your mouth in the most sexual kiss you’d ever had, and you let out a soft sigh at the feeling. His lips were so soft, so plump against yours and it weirdly just felt right - you liked him a little more when he was kissing you until you were breathless over when he would make fun of you.

“Okay!” You’d forgotten Chan was even there until his hands clapped together. You both turned to look at him, your lips kiss-bitten and swollen. You were outside Seungmin’s house. When did you even get there? You blinked, staring at Chan. He gave you a wide smile. “I’m so glad you guys have worked things out, but I really don’t want my car soiled. Please go home.”

“Thanks for the lift, old man.” Seungmin was dragging you out of the car by your wrist, all the way up the driveway and into the house. Before you knew it, he was taking you up the stairs, too, and you were standing in front of his door.

Seungmin’s bedroom door. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d even been inside. It used to be littered with figurines and music paraphernalia, and you had no idea what it would look like now. When Seungmin pushed open the door, it looked a lot cleaner and less immature, pristine grey sheets tucked into the corners like a hotel room and only a few baseball items littered around.

He turned to you, pressing a peck to your lips. “Are you sure you want to fuck me? I have to warn you beforehand, I can get a little…”

“Mean?” You giggle. Seungmin nods, a smile on his lips. “I like mean. I thought I made that obvious.”

“And I like bratty girls who need to be hurt until they cry. Are you a little painslut, brat?” You nod at his words. You couldn’t think of anything better, molten hot need rushing through you at the mere idea. “Good. Get naked for me and lay on my bed.”

Scurrying over to his bed, you just couldn’t believe you were actually about to do this. You were about to fuck the guy who you absolutely hated a month ago. You would’ve never dreamed of this - but now, it had you thinking. All of the bickering, all of the pissing each other off - had you just been trying to wind each other up for a specific response? Had you been doing it to get his attention? The thought hurt your brain, but you knew one thing. You wanted to fuck Kim Seungmin so fucking bad, and fuck whatever happened afterwards.

The fabric of your dress dropped to the floor once you’d unzipped it, the fabric pooling at your feet. You kicked it away, leaving yourself braless with just underwear on. Seungmin’s eyes trailed down your body, humming when you settled back against his sheets.

That’s all he did for a while. He just looked at you, taking your full appearance in with wandering, claiming eyes. You found yourself meeting his gaze when he looked at your face. His trousers were even tighter than before, a long, hard erection pressing against the fabric. Letting your palms wander up your tummy, a delicate, grazing touch that made you squirm, you landed on your chest and tugged on your nipples.

“Are you gonna fuck me now, Seungie?” The nickname dropped from your mouth before you could even process it. Seungmin scoffed, before he was pulling his jersey off with haste. It left him bare, exposing soft, milky planes of skin to your eyes. His body was lean yet toned, looking like the muscles would ripple under your fingers but feel so velvety at the same time. It was the perfect representation of his personality.

He was on the bed quicker than you’d expected, lunging towards you like a primal animal stalking its prey. You gazed up at him when his movement landed him above you, your legs spread around his hips. All that was heard throughout the room were deep breaths when his bulge situated against you through your underwear, the puffs of air spanning across your skin where he leaned above you.

“Should I fuck you?” He mumbled. You nodded slowly, letting your hips roll up against his. Seungmin licked his lips in response, hands going to pin your hips down. “Tell me what you like.”

You whimpered when his lips went to your neck, sucking on a spot underneath your jaw that felt so, so sensitive. “I like... Rough. Pain. I like it rough, I like being treated like I’m beneath you, but then- God, Seungie- you need to- I need to cum, when we fuck. Please?”

“Men don’t make you cum often, brat?” You shook your head, whining again when he sucked a hickey into your collarbone sharply. “That’s a pity. I bet you look so fucking beautiful when you cum, so desperate. I think I’ll let you cum.”

“Thank you,” You moaned lowly when he trailed his lips further down your body. His lips encaptured one of your nipples, a hard peak so sensitive to his loving tongue. The moonlight shone through his curtains, highlighting the new hairstyle he had and his button nose when he sucked on your breast. As if he’d been building up to it, Seungmin let his teeth bite into your nipple sharply, and you positively squeaked at the sensation.

Letting your nipple pop out of his mouth, Seungmin grinned up at you. “Good?”

“More, more. Please, hurt me, please-”

“Hurt you?” He shifted again, looming over you in that dangerous, almost territorial way. “What if I slapped you? On your face. Would you like me to make that pretty face red?”

You gasped, eyes rolling back at the mere idea. He ground his bulge into you, waiting for your answer. “I- I love that, please, Seungmin, slap me. Oh my God, please, I think I’m gonna die-”

You were cut off with a harsh smack to your cheek. Your head rolled, gasping in the aftermath of the pain. It should’ve put you off, it should’ve hurt too much, it should’ve made you question if he really liked you - but all you could think was again, please. That’s all you could say, too, begging him to slap you again.

“Fucking filthy brat,” He grumbled, hand swinging again to slap you across the face. When your head tried to roll to the side again, he gripped your cheeks with his thumb and finger. You whined incoherently when he looked down at you, squishing your cheeks, until he was letting spit dribble into your mouth. “Mine.”

“Yours,” You nod, agreeing, and Seungmin groans at the sound of you saying it. You heard the rustling of fabrics, the moving of bedsheets and then his cockhead was positioned at your sopping wet hole, panties pulled to the side. You tried to buck your hips into it, trying to catch his cockhead and lure him inside, but his grip pushed you back down.

“Tell me again. You’re mine, yeah? No more kissing Chan,” Seungmin rubbed the leaking tip against your hole, making you attempt not to squirm again. “No more arguing with anyone that isn’t me, brat. I’m your punching bag, yeah? You take all your anger out on me and I’ll fuck you nice and hard afterwards, hurt you the way you like. That’s what you’ve always done it for, right?”

Your brain was fuzzy. Yes, that’s what you’d always done it for. You had always done it to get a rise out of him, and now that you were being put in your place, it made you feel like you were running a hundred miles an hour through a sandstorm.

“Yes, ‘m yours, Seungie, please, can I have it? Need it,” You whine, head thrown back against his soft pillows. Seungmin coos at you condescendingly.

“Do you? But what about prep, brat? It’ll hurt otherwise, won’t it?” Despite his words, he’s pressing the head of his cock inside of you. The stretch was blinding, making your toes curl and hands dig into the pillows.

“I- I want it to hurt.”

“Of course you do,” Seungmin sneers, before he’s pushing his whole cock inside you at once. It’s long, pressing against your cervix as he bottoms out and your eyebrows furrow, jaw dropping in a silent moan. “That pussy’s so wet, fuck. I turn you on that much?”

“It turns me on to argue with you, turns me on when you’re mean- fucking, Seungmin, please, move,” You were admitting something you hadn’t quite admitted to yourself just yet, but when Seungmin started to snap his hips against yours, your brain went clear of all thoughts. “Ah, oh my fuck- fuck, fuck, fuck- hnng-”

“‘S good? You’re taking me so well, pretty little brat, you want a reward?” You nodded at his words, but you weren’t braced for his hand smacking your cheek once again. You reeled, eyes feeling blurry as his hips picked up the pace. He was breathing heavily on your cheek, warm breath fanning over even warmer skin. “Was that good? You want more?”

“Please, Seungie, please, more, slap me again, harder,” He slapped your opposite cheek this time, a welcome relief from your reddened cheek. The problem was that when his hand collided with your skin, you felt yourself seize up and - oh. You were cumming. “Ah-”

“Fuck, are you cumming that quick? You’re so fucking filthy, pup,” Seungmin groaned, his cock still bullying into your hole. With his pace not slowing, you couldn’t ride out the orgasm properly, and it was just one constant blissful experience. Your eyes rolled back into your head, toes curling with pleasure. “Cumming from me slapping your pretty little face. Dirty fucking bitch.”

“Seungie- I can’t, I can’t take it, please slow down!” You were squealing at that point, fingers digging into the pillows.

“I don’t think you want me to, do you?”

He was so right. You shook your head, whining out again when he pulled out. Your hole fluttered around nothing, clit still swollen with arousal. Your slick had dripped all the way down to his pristine sheets, tarnishing his once neat room. Seungmin was quick to spin you around, putting you on your tummy with your ass just slightly raised for him.

Within a brief moment, he was pushing inside of you again. His cock was still wet with your arousal, and your back arched when he bottomed out inside of you for the second time. Seungmin gripped your hair, making your back permanently arched for him. His lips attached to your neck, blonde highlighted hair draping onto your skin.

“‘S good, so good,” You babbled, trying to push your ass back onto him. Seungmin allowed it this time, his hand moving from your hair to your neck. He squeezed the sides expertly and you whimpered, hands moving to grab his wrist.

“You like that, don’t you? I’m meant to be your enemy, you dirty bitch, and look at you,” He was chuckling mirthlessly, grinning when you kept babbling. “I guess you like my cock too much. Dumb fucking slut, all I have to do is fill you up and you’re nice and sweet for me.”

“B-Bet you wish you’d done it sooner,” You quip, which would’ve been much more impressive if you hadn’t stuttered it out. “Would’ve shut up for you and been a good girl a long time ago.”

Seungmin hummed. “I think I like you bitchy, brat.”

“I jus’ like you,” You slurred, feeling Seungmin’s pace slow. He’d resorted to a slow, deep grind that had you feeling every inch and every vein on his cock. You could hear him snickering in your ear, and he pressed a cute little kiss to your neck. His free hand went down to your clit, rubbing precise, firm circles against the swollen button.

“Think you can ride me, or are you too cock drunk?” Seungmin hummed. You shook your head rapidly.

“I- too much, can’t-”

“Alright, brat, let me fuck you some more then. I need to cum in this pussy, yeah?” Seungmin was laughing again, and all of a sudden, he’d let go of your neck. You were immediately face planted into the pillows and Seungmin gripped onto your ass, thrusting into you quicker this time. You whined, trying to push back onto him, but he smacked your asscheek in admonishment. Letting your hips shift slightly to allow your hand to meet your clit, you picked up where Seungmin left off with the tight circles. It made the pool of arousal in your tummy clench, and you vaguely realised you were going to cum again.

“Seungie, please- I want cum, want cum, with me, please-”

“Want me to cum inside you, brat? While you cum around my cock? That’s dirty, pup,” His voice faltered when his hands gripped onto your asscheeks harder, spreading them to see where his cock was entering you over and over. You knew you were soaking, you could feel it - and the wet glide of his length inside of you felt fucking delectable. You recognised no one had fucked you like this before, letting you cum over and over on their cock like this while they held back their own orgasm, and it made your head dizzy. You’d have to come back to Seungmin for more, you thought, and you didn’t hate the thought at all.

The bed rocking suddenly caught your attention, and you whimpered, trying to alert Seungmin of the noise. The last thing you needed was his parents hearing you get your back blown out by their son, who you claimed to hate. You reached back, trying to grab his arm, but he was groaning loudly, cockhead hitting your g-spot with every thrust.

“Seungie, ‘s too loud, the bed,” You managed to get out, drooling on his pillows. Seungmin let out a loud groan before he was pulling you back onto him, forcing you to fuck back onto his cock.

“And? I don’t care. Pussy’s so fucking good, gonna make me blow, shit,” Seungmin mumbled. “You ready for my cum, brat?”

“Yeah, want it, please, please Seungie, fill me up, breed me!”

“Breed you? You want me to breed this pussy, dirty pup?” He bit your neck sharply, making you keen. You nodded erratically at his words. You couldn’t think of anything better than him filling you up with his cum. “Cum with me. Flood my cock.”

His hand came down on your ass again, and as you felt his hips stall, an unfamiliar warmth filling up your pussy, you let go around him. Your pussy fluttered with delight - probably also confusion, because oh my God, you were cumming twice? With someone else?

It felt messy, juices gliding everywhere as he just rocked his hips a little to ride out your orgasms, and then you were left to fall flat on the bed. He pulled his softening cock out, sighing when your pussy oozed out his cum onto his sheets. He didn’t seem to care about his bed, much more entranced with the sight of your hole gaping after him.

He’d fucked you so good your pussy was going to remember the shape of his cock forever. That was for sure.

You let yourself drift, brain going blurry until you felt a cloth wiping between your legs. It was cold, slightly wet as it rubbed over your swollen folds, and you whimpered, trying to shift away from the touch.

“Stay still, brat. ‘M just cleaning you up.” You nodded, face still buried in the sheets. It was then that Seungmin finally pulled your panties down, chucking them to the floor and pulling a pair of basketball shorts up your trembling legs. Were they… his? He’d put you in his clothes? Bizarre. You didn’t even react when he spun you over, pulling a baggy t-shirt over your upper body. He’d gotten fully dressed in a plaid pyjama set, baffling you. When had he done that?

You were moved again, positioned on a very firm chest and a bottle of water pressed to your raw lips. You glugged it down thankfully, blinking up at Seungmin. His hair was mussed, but pushed back with a cute Pochacco headband. Wow. He was actually cute.

There was a beat of silence, then Seungmin spoke. His hand was tracing your scalp, running his fingernails over it. “I meant what I said. You’re my girl. I think you always have been.”

You scoffed. “Yours?! I’m not a possession, Seungmin-”

Seungmin kissed you softly, giggling when you still tried to yell. Had he always reacted this amused when you bitched at him? You realised that… yeah, he had. It really did entertain him. “You’re so cute when you have a go at me like that, you know? Such a brat.”

You twiddled your thumbs together when he pulled away from the kiss, staring at the bottoms of his plaid pyjamas shyly. “So… you wanna be like, together? Since you’re hot, and all.”

Seungmin chuckled again, pulling you closer to his chest. “As long as you never ever stop bitching at me.”

“I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

“I like you that way, brat.”

END.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

EPILOGUE

Sieun stared at you upon your arrival to breakfast. Her parents were preoccupied in the living room, and her eyes settled directly on your neck. You knew that your neck was littered with bite marks, hickies galore, but you’d tried your best to hide it.

“Listen, I’m so happy for you,” She began, hand clasped tightly around her mug. “I know I always ask you for details of sexual escapades, but I kind of don’t need to know about how good my brother is in bed.”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” You nod, agreeing. “But he does know where the-“

“Stop!”

A mug of coffee is placed in your hands, made just the way you like it. The steaming liquid is a welcome warmth, as is the kiss that Seungmin presses to your cheek. You blush, staring up at him when he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Good morning, brat.”

5K notes · View notes

hyunnie04 · 1 year ago

Text

somethin' stupid

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you."

yang jeongin x reader, fluff | m.list

wc: 1.2k | happy birthday innie ♡

“i'm not really interested… i'm sorry.”

you watch jeongin as he rejects yet another girl. you feel sorry for her as she stands awkwardly in the middle of the quaint cafe, fiddling anxiously with the ends of her shirt.

thankfully, the establishment was relatively empty, save for a few people discretely listening in. she goes on to nod and ramble on further until she had noticed your presence.

"-oh, i didn't realize you have a partner. sorry." her eyes dart over towards you, blush wildly painting her cheeks. she was already gone by the time you could correct her, scuttling away and leaving a trail of gossip in her wake. jeongin watches her leave, pursing his lips.

"you could've let her down easily. the poor girl was shaking..." you voiced out, stirring your iced americano and watching the ice melt bit by bit.

jeongin sighs and takes his seat across from you, taking a sip out of his own cup. he brushes your comment off and starts to talk about a different topic altogether, returning to his smiley demeanor.

you knew how jeongin was. he didn't hesitate to say no whenever someone would just come up to him, asking for his number. it happens more often than not, professions of love seemingly happening out of no where.

you were also used to it, getting stopped so frequently whenever you went out with him. dozens of people that had tried to ask him out only ended in disappointment.

he was seemingly disinterested in things like love. the topic had always eluded him, if you didn't know him any better you could have said he was uncomfortable with the idea. but you didn't pry, he must have a pretty good reason. it was understandable too, his line of work didn't exactly allow it anyways.

despite this, you have admired him in silence ever since the beginning. the feelings that had festered inside of you were kept bottled up until they threatened to spill over. and they almost did, but friendship mattered more and shot down the idea before it could ruin everything.

admittedly, there are days where you just want to explode, to confess and just get it over with. you were a hundred percent positive it would end just the same for you. the preconceived notion of him not liking you in that way, you don't think you could handle it. thinking about being rejected so coldly sends shivers down your spine.

the iced americano that sits in your hands start to sting after a while, but you pay no mind to it. the firm grip you had on it reminds you, mulling over the interaction you had earlier as he rambles about another topic. little things like paying for your coffee and bringing you other small items even if it was his birthday had in short, confused you.

maybe you're misinterpreting and just imagining things. but the way jeongin is adamant that he pays for your order every single time, or the way his hand brushes against yours more often than not and how the warmth of them lingered, says otherwise.

you also notice how he didn't correct the girl's assumption about you two.

the wind dishevels his hair upon stepping out of the cafe, rays of sunlight peaking through the leaves start to dim in the afternoon. the two of you walk for a while, kicking pebbles and rocks in comfortable silence. your head is still occupied with thoughts of him.

another thought comes into your mind amidst the internal chaos, "i almost forgot! i still need to buy you a cake." it had completely slipped from your mind, forgetting why you agreed to go out in the first place.

"it's okay, really." he laughs as you tug him along the sidewalk. you need to do something else to distract your mind and fast. jeongin jogs beside you, keeping up with your pace. it seemed like you weren't taking no for an answer and stopped right in front of a pastry shop.

"is this what you were talking about?" he hums with a grin, leaning down to browse the lines and lines of delicious looking cakes displayed in the glass casing. you made no move to go in just yet, letting him choose silently. his hair, still disheveled and tousled from the wind yet ethereal all the same.

"what if i said i liked you?"

the abrupt stupid question escapes your mouth before you could catch it. his face slowly contorts into an expression, one you could not decipher right away upon hearing it. his back straightens up as keen eyes start to focus on you.

"j-just a hypothetical! i was just really curious because of earlier and it's not serious or-" you wave your hands in front as if to physically wave it off.

"-forget i said anything." you turn your head away, voice becoming tiny and unintelligible. you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your head. jeongin says nothing as the tip of your ears burn a bright crimson.

you've done it now, y/n.

"hey," he nudges your side with that eye-crinkling smile you've come accustomed to.

"did you ever wonder why i keep rejecting them?" jeongin now had his hands in his pockets, a small pout forming on his lips as he pops his own query to you, staring back at the glass casings.

you said nothing, unable to respond with a reply or conclusion that would most likely be accurate, you've already embarrassed yourself in front of him today.

jeongin flicks your forehead and scoffs, “that's because i like you, idiot.”

"it was always you." his eyes were downcast, looking everywhere but yours.

you have gone unresponsive at this point. incredulous eyes stared back at him as you feel your throat dry up. it was because of you? were you dreaming? you must be.

"w-what? really?" you say quite densely whilst rubbing the sore spot on your forehead. he laughs, finally turning to you. "yes, i'm serious."

the wind blows harder this time, removing the locks that obscured his beautifully dimpled face. jeongin's eyes are still trained on you with such longing that you don't recall ever seeing on him, ultimately reminding you that this was indeed real.

"you have no idea how long i've been waiting for you to say those words." you breathe out in relief, one that you weren't even aware of holding.

the proximity between you two sends electrifying shocks, the mere presence of each other is enough to fluster. "i like you too." the words finally make it out of your throat.

you two burst in abrupt laughter, the tip-toeing around the situation suddenly feeling silly. a mixture look of understanding, relief, and love is shared between you two, smiling like love sick fools.

jeongin starts to drag you away by your coat, mimicking how you did to him earlier. "ah! wait, but your cake..." you see the establishment grow smaller and smaller as he drags you away.

"we don't need to worry about that now."

"can i at least buy you a present?" you reply, picking up your feet and walking alongside him. he has a wide grin on his face as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. "got my present right here."

you mousily stop in your tracks as a deeper shade of crimson blooms across your face. the two of you walk side by side upon your recovery, pinky fingers now intertwined shyly around each other.

#jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #i.n x reader #i.n skz #i.n stray kids #yang jeongin fluff #skz fluff #skz scenarios #stray kids x you #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz imagines

2K notes · View notes

theladybrownstarot · 8 months ago

Text

Pick-A-Card : Why will your future spouse choose you ? ✧°•

✧ Here's my masterlist for more !

✧ Make sure you like/follow/Comment/reblogg for more pacs like these !

Pick-A-Pile : Here's a new pick card reading for you all ! So close your eyes and breathe in and out then choose pile(s) attracting you most . This is a general reading so it may resonate and not , my readings are not the universal truth so make your decisions wisely 🖤✨️

✧ Pile 1.

Namaste pile 1 ! Let's begin with your reading:

Your future spouse choose you because among all you were the one who didn't pay a lot attention to his charm and ignored him ,according to them you seem to be playing to get hard. I see that you two have similar thoughts making you compatible all around with each other also I see that they already thought to choose you long before you even know them but they didn't knew how to approach you and confess their feeling . I'm getting that they are someone who are new and someone you don't know at all most probably. This is hilarious and cute at the same time because you are in their thoughts everytime , they feel that undeniable connection with you . I see some south-east or north guy/girl in this reading too and possibly that you may have short to medium hair or wear specs or they may have sharp eyes and wear specs- an extra information chanelled . Your future spouse actually feels safe with you emotionally ; respecting and understanding them like no one ever did before. They feel to immerse with you only and around you they can open up fully without any insecurity. There's this sharp clarity about you they have that they want you only in their life , no matter what happens so wow go getter energy .

✧ Pile 2

Namaste pile 2 ! Let's get with your reading:

The first thing that I chanelled I was very funny like you had be someone that might be or will be the one who will be a lot pressured by your future spouse to handle their errands like this person needs you like mostly to get their work done or they will just throw some work on you and that's the first main reason why they had choose you- they want to depend on someone because they are lazy and dramatic as hell. At the same time I see that do respect you a lot and admire you for you being you and letting them grow with you this is the vision that they basically have about you. You are their litreal trophy or that jackpot . I see that they may self esteem issues but you had be helping them up to change totally. I see that this person might be an over achiever and at some not a lot recognised for their hardwork and because of this they ended up loosing a lot in life but you will or got them up. They choose you because you directed and supported them a lot in their harsh times . They believe in themselves more when you are with them , they will that they would achieve the whole world by being with you also they had be a bit rebellious and masculine person for same .

✧ Pile 3.

Namaste pile 3 ! Let's get with your reading :

They had literally state so many reason like they love you unconditionally for sure ! The cards just felt out like wonders everytime I was shuffling. You are blessed for sure . I feel that after you met your spouse either one of you met with some financial gains and changes as per what I can sense and say . Your future spouse choose you because you healed them emotionally basically from their experiences and the traumas they had , you showed them the light and hope altogether. They already saw the signs around again when and after they met making them sure out of no where that you had be the one who won't leave him . This pile has got some very emotional energy . I Channeled a hindi song - jeena sikha diya marna sikha diya . I'm getting that they were outcasted in their life and no one accepted them other than you because you had a pure heart and I also heard black magic for you or him . They chose you because you complete them .

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

625 notes · View notes

spider-stark · 1 year ago

Text

INFINITELY YOU

part two // crullers & constants

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 4.2k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker

Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place.

Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange.

Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown.

Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter.

Or, at least, none that mattered.

But things changed as time passed, as they so often do.

It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play.

Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift.

After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether.

And Peter never even asked why.

“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?”

Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.”

And how true that must have been.

There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too.

He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night?

Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.”

You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?!

“Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?”

It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.”

Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter.

You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?

“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.”

“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.”

The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter.

Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.”

Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used.

“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar.

Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite.

“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.”

Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now.

You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?”

Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.”

Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too.

“Did he?”

Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.”

You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's.

In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him.

“Well did he have anything useful?”

He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter.

Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups.

“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0.

“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration.

“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear.

Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?”

Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation.

“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.”

Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite.

“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?”

“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.”

You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?”

Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch.

“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?”

By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him.

Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.”

“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.”

Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.”

“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth.

Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.”

“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?”

“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?”

You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.”

“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.”

Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now!

“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?”

“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-”

“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!”

He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.”

“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded.

If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere.

You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now.

“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down…

Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.”

Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell.

“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered.

He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night?

“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.”

He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips.

Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world.

But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all.

The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone.

Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting.

Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway.

“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!”

He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!”

You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else.

“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?”

You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?”

Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.”

His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse.

“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully.

“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter.

There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!”

You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.”

Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?”

In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task.

Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway.

“Mj happened.”

Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?”

“Yep. That’s the one.”

“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.”

It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.”

In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease.

“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth.

You sucked in a breath.

“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.”

His brow snapped up. “What changed?”

Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours.

But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth.

“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?”

An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance.

“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.”

“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-”

“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.”

“I’m not pretending-”

Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.”

Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.”

There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest.

“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.”

“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?”

Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”

series masterlist

a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.

as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th

2K notes · View notes