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#so to have someone out there who can help me and look forward to every day is amazing to me.
kingkatsuki · 2 days
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— will you love me till it hurts? (never leave me at my worst)
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Kaji hates himself when he gets like this, but luckily for him he has you to bring him back from the brink.
Pairing: Kaji Ren x f!reader.
Warnings: 18+, established relationship, exhibitionism, public sex, dirty talk, spanking, choking, blood!mention, fingering, creampie.
Word Count: 4.6k.
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Kaji hates it when he gets like this.
The anger and frustration of the world work to tear every inch of the resolve he’s built around himself brick by brick. Demolishing the wall to leave him surrounded in the rubble of his destruction as he’s back to worn foundations and forced to try and find himself again.
He was already running late to meet you, something that had regret swimming in his chest at the thought of you waiting outside pothos looking all pretty while he made his way through the town. Deciding to cut through a back alley to avoid going through the market street to avoid any early evening crowds he managed to run into a group of four guys who were hunched in a circle.
He tried to ignore them, he really did— with absolutely no intention of ruining your date night again. But the taller one out of the four just had to say something. The only word he was able to make out over his music was Furin, as Kaji’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. Exhaling softly, he turns his headphones up, drowning out the asshole with heavy metal. Kaji palms his jeans pocket and groans when he feels no chupa chups inside the denim.
Fuck.
He heaves a sigh as he shoves his hands inside his grey hoodie pocket in tight fists. Trying to resist the deep-seated urge inside him to throw hands as icy blue eyes darken and he continues forward, deliberately stepping around the asshole guys in front of him— but of course, they just had to try and cause problems. Stepping in front of Kaji the taller guys shoulders barged into him roughly, knocking him sideways as the anger continued to surge through his veins.
Kaji thinks of your face, and it helps, but this one guy in the group just won’t stop fucking yapping. He can’t hear it over his headphones, but he can see his big fucking mouth moving— and when there’s a pause in loud music to change tracks it’s all he can hear.
“—fuckin’ pussy.”
“What was that?” Kaji pulls his headphones down, any chance of backing out long gone.
“I said. These Furin guys like to act hard but you look like a fuckin’ pussy.” He enunciated the final words and that was it— all Kaji saw was red.
Nothing can stop his fist from swinging, a mean rear uppercut that has the guy raised from the ground before losing his footing and tumbling down like a tree in the forest. Kaji feels the satisfaction shoot through his veins as he narrowly dodges a punch to the side of his head, knocking his headphones off as he prays the crack he heard wasn’t the plastic breaking. He’s quick to land another punch as two guys take him on at once, swinging his leg to boot someone back as he hates that he can’t bring himself to stop.
Another crude crack sounds as his fist collides with a guy's nose, a hit that has blood running down his chin and onto the brick beneath him as the damage has the guy running. His friends gathered with fists raised as if deciding whether the fight was still worth it— there was always strength in numbers, but somehow Furin strength seemed to defy that simple logic.
Kaji is about to make their choice for them as the raging hatred still ebbs through his veins, unable to discern the difference between his opponent’s as he swings for whoever’s closer— feeling a rough hit to his eye, enough to draw blood against his brow as warm crimson trickles down his temple.
“Ren!” A voice shouts, and it permeates the monster that’s reared its ugly head inside him, but not enough for him to keep swinging, “Ren!”
“You should keep that mouth shut and those legs spread, doll.” Another one of the guys sneers, but it’s enough to have Kaji’s attention now— if they so much as touched a single hair on your head he’s certain he’d kill for you, “That’s all you’re good for.”
Kaji takes the chance to lead uppercut the guy distracted by you, knocking his jaw and he’s certain he hears you call his name again. But his vision blurs as pure ferocious anger takes over as he continues hitting the guy for saying anything about you.
“I’d happily break one of Furin’s whores.” It was like this man was trying to push Kanji even further into becoming a beast, as you fought to keep him where he stands.
“Ren, don’t!” You winced as you heard the shlick sound of fists colliding with cartilidge as the guy cried out in pain, positive Kaji had broken his nose.
“If you guys don’t fuck off I’ll scream so loud half of Furin will be here in five fucking minutes.” You bluff, close enough to pothos that it could work as truth. There was always at least one member of Furin in there at any given time, it was at least something.
“Yeah, yeah. He ain’t fuckin’ worth it—” He sneers, holding his nose. Thankful that his friends decided to break off into a run before the lead guy turned to leave, “You’re with a fucking wild animal, doll.”
You bolted towards to Kaji as they left, who still stood at the corner of the street. Tentatively reaching up to palm his cheek as you pushed yourself up on tiptoes to assess the damage from the cut oozing blood on his brow.
“Ren, what the fuck happ—” You begin, but he’s quick to cut you off with a fierce kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. Unforgiving and and relentless he forces his tongue between your lips as they part with surprise, swallowing your objections with his mouth as he pushes you against the nearest wall.
You taste the sharp metallic tang of his blood on your tongue as you moan against his lips, your palms splayed across his chest to push him back with worry as you search his eyes for answers.
“Ren, what happened?” You murmur, but Kaji doesn’t respond. Instead, he crashes his lips back against yours with far more insistently this time. His hand cups the base of your skull to keep you pressed against him as he tongues the roof of your mouth, pressing his toned body against yours as he pins you to the wall, firm and insistent.
He pours everything into the kiss, calloused fingers dig into your skin roughly as you find yourself moaning into his mouth in a mixture of pain and pleasure. It’s hard to keep up with Kaji when he’s like this, his movements frantic and rugged. His nose bumps yours as he tilts his head slightly, his palm moves from the back of your neck to circle your throat as he squeezes. The lack of air leaves you lightheaded as your eyes roll back, fingers pawing at his hoodie to keep him close as he bullies a thigh between your legs to keep you firm against him.
“Fuck,” You whine against his lips when you feel rough denim graze your panties, creating a salacious friction that has you shamelessly grinding down against him.
Kaji’s hand tightens against your neck to press you down harder against his thigh as he pulls more pretty sounds from the back of your throat. The sounds you make work to slay the fierce beast that rages inside him, now replaced with a new monster as he seeks to devour you whole.
Your hands are persistent as you card soothing hands through his hair, tugging slightly at the root as you rip more pretty sounds from deep in his chest.
“Ren.” You chance his name again, the sound paired with the heat from your touch scorches him as Kaji feels you slowly bring him back to himself.
“Don’t leave me—” The hand around your throat loosens as blue-grey eyes begin to soften, his chest heaving as he lays his forehead against your own, regret begins to ebb away at him when he notices his blood dried against your skin.
“What the fuck happened?” You hum softly, fingers stroking through his undercut as your nails scratch at his scalp, “You had me so worried.”
“Fuckin’ pricks,” He shakes his head, pushing some of his hair away from his forehead as his chest continues to heave.
You bring him back. He starts to feel the ache from his knuckles and the persistent throb against his brow. Letting you cup his cheeks in soft palms as you assess the damage with a worried frown, lips curled into such a pretty pout that Kaji has to restrain himself from kissing you again.
“Tried jumping me when I was coming to meet you,” He continued, taking the opportunity to lean down and bury his face in the curve of your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply, “Started talking shit about Furin.”
“So why didn’t you ignore them?” You murmured, pressing a kiss to the base of his jaw as he curled into you.
“Couldn’t.” It was then you realised the lack of sucker between his lips as it all started to make sense, “And then he said shit about you and I—”
“That doesn’t matter,” You whisper, pecking his lips, “Whatever they say doesn’t matter.”
“But it’s always you comin’ to protect me when I should be the one protectin’ you.” You can feel the sadness in his voice as you shake your head, shrugging your shoulder slightly to garner his attention.
“Don’t say that shit, Ren. I know you could’ve handled that, and you did,” You continued, holding his cheeks in your hands as he stared down at you with cold eyes, “But you would’ve hated yourself if I’d let you continue, and I would’ve hated myself too—”
You stroked the tender skin along the apple of his cheek, giving him a regretful look when he winced beneath your ministrations.
“You’re way too good for me.” He muttered as you shook your head.
“Shut up,” You smiled gently, pressing another kiss to his lips, “You don’t get to decide that.”
“It’s true, though.” He sighed.
He was nothing like Hiragi or Umemiya. He couldn’t treat you as well as they probably could— You deserved far better than him, someone who could look after you, protect you—
“You deserve better.”
You really did— and you looked far too pretty today all dressed up for your date together.
“Okay, now I’m convinced the lollipops are to stop you saying dumb shit.” You scrunched your nose in irritation, reaching into your jacket pocket to pull out a wrapped cherry chupa chups, “Let me shut you up again.”
Of course, you always carried around spare suckers for him.
Kaji watched as you began to pull at the base of the wrapper before his fists wrapped around your wrists tightly, holding you firm to stop you from unravelling it.
“Yeah— make me.” Kaji rasped huskily as the seams of his lips curled into a slight grin. Catching you off guard as the sucker dropped to the floor between your bodies and he pressed a sultry kiss to your glossy lips.
“Ren, you’re hurt.” You chance, wondering if he can even hear you as you feel his fingers flex around your throat in acknowledgement. His palm strokes against your clavicle, venturing lower to palm one of your breasts through your thin shirt before reaching down to palm the fat of your ass.
Using his grip to pull you against him so you could feel his need against your tummy, hard and pulsing through thick denim.
“Stop talkin’.” His lips press against the curve of your jaw, teeth grazing the soft skin as he reaches out to cup your warm sex between your thighs.
He makes it difficult for you to think, surrounded by the comforting scent of him as you breathe in the honeyed scent of candy mixed with the musky sandalwood that feels like home. Ignoring the fact that anyone could walk by and catch you in such a compromising position as you seek out your pleasure. Leaning into his touch his fingers brush the soaked crotch of your panties, pressing down on your fluttering hole through the fabric as he teases you with two fingers.
It’s pathetic really, how easily he has you like this. Debauched and needy in public no less, your clit throbbing with neglect as you shamelessly rolled your hips into his touch.
“Ren, someone could see—” You chance; but it’s futile.
“Let them.” He doesn’t mean it, not really. Every single part of you should be for his eyes only— he’d lock you away in a concrete castle and throw away the key if it meant that no one would so much as glance in your direction again or be the savage dragon that guards its entrance and protects the princess as he becomes a monster in order to keep you safe.
Your hips jolt when you feel him push your panties to the side, dragging two calloused fingers through your drooling slit as he pressed the wetness to your puffy clit. Delighting in the needy whine you made as he circled it slowly, half-lidded eyes focused on your face as he worked you with calm precision.
He was going far too slow for a man that had you pinned against a wall like this in public. The risk of anyone walking by and catching you was high enough as it is, but the fact that this was one of Furin’s patrol routes made it even worse— Any one of his team could walk by and see you like this at any given moment.
“Ren—” His name fell on deaf ears as he plunged two digits inside your tight heat, watching your head roll back against the cold brick as he began to pump them inside you with intent. Marvelling at the way your velvety walls pulsed around him, desperately trying to coax him deeper.
Kaji paused his movements, stilling his wrist to watch as you unabashedly fucked yourself against his fingers. He deliberately curled them towards the spot inside you he knew like the back of his hand as you keened at his touch. Clinging to his broad shoulders as you rocked yourself into his touch, thankful for his body pinning you to the wall, otherwise you were certain your legs would give way and you’d end up on the floor. You ground yourself against him, trapping his palm between you and his thigh as he pressed his leg firmer against you.
“That's it, pretty girl,” He rasped softly, reaching his thumb up to press sloppy circles against your clit, “You get yours.”
You leaned into his touch, greedily using him for your release. Rolling your hips to press his fingers against that same spot inside you as you felt the telltale signs of your impending climax.
“Oh, fuck, baby—” You whined, Kaji’s other hand was quick to slip between the back of your head and the wall. His sore bruised knuckles brushed against the tough brick to prevent your head from knocking against the hard surface as you found your bliss.
Kaji began to move his fingers with purpose as you met your end, taking over from your hips as he fucked you through your release. Pulling more airy sounds from between your pretty lips as he pressed lingering kisses against the corner of your lips.
“That’s it—” Kaji murmured, his persistent fingers prolonging your release as you writhed against him, “My good girl.”
His words had that same heat blooming inside you, from the tips of your ears down to your toes as your mind was shrouded in a lusty haze. Whining when he pulled his digits from your cunt to press them against your glossy lips, watching you take them inside your mouth as you sucked them clean. Tasting yourself on your tongue as he pressed down on the hot muscle, feeling your moans vibrate at the back of your throat.
“Stop teasing me,” You whined around his fingers as Kaji languidly pulled them from your warm, wet mouth. Dragging down on your bottom lip as he moved to dry them off against his pants.
You bit your lower lip between your teeth as you reached out to palm him through his skinny jeans. Annoyed that the rough denim had little give as you pathetically tried to wrap your palm around him, barely able to grip it between your fingers and yet it was enough to have Kaji’s hips jerking roughly. He grunted low and gravelly as he pulled his slick-soaked fingers from your core, busying himself with the button on his jeans as he tugged the zipper. Letting the denim hang around the curve of his ass, just enough to free his aching cock.
The length of it drooped towards the ground, hot and heavy as you immediately reached out to wrap slender fingers around it. Collecting the bead of pre that glistened against his leaking tip to smooth it down his length Kaji hissed through gritted teeth, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed thickly. Smiling coyly at his reaction, moving your hand back up to thumb his slit, collecting more fresh pre as you wrapped him back in a firm fist.
“Who’s teasin’ now?” He huffed, placing his palm on top of yours to tighten your hand around his cock. Holding it steady as Kaji began to fuck himself into your fist, rutting his hips as you let out a salacious whine at the sight.
“Look who’s talking,” You gasped when he moved his other hand to the back of your thigh, propping it up on his hip as your skirt bunched at your waist.
“Oh, fuck.” You practically whimpered when you felt the swollen tip of his cock nudge your clit as he dragged it through your folds. Coating himself with your slick as he gave a tentative jerk of his hips, his lips pressed against your ear as you felt the vibration in his tone when he caught against your tight hole.
Kaji moved his hand away from his cock in favour of leaning back to watch as you guided him towards your entrance with your fingers, pressing down on the thick, bulging veins as he felt the resistance of your fluttering hole. Seeking out your warmth as he slowly began to press himself inside you, immediately groaning when he felt the heat engulf him. Certain he’d never tire of the sensation, no matter how many times he had you like this.
You made it difficult to think— to breathe sometimes. Stealing every conscious thought as you shrouded his very being, plaguing him with thoughts of you that he was so certain there was nothing else in this life worth having if he didn’t have you.
“Ren, hurry up,” You brought him back from his thoughts with a jerk of your hips, “We don’t have time, someone could see—”
Kaji was positive that he didn’t even give a fuck if the whole of Furin saw once he was buried inside your warm, wet cunt. The overwhelming pleasure etched away at him as he could only think of you—
“Let them see.” He snarled brazenly, flashing his sharp fangs and gums.
“Ren.” You whined back.
“So fuckin’ needy.” Each word was enunciated by a sharp rut of his hips as he set a rough, fast pace.
Kaji hissed, feeling your cunt clamp down around him from his crude tone. Your hands clinging to his shoulders as he eased his hips back before surging forward. His skin was coated in a thin sheen of sweat beneath his hoodie as he felt the heat practically radiate from your warm body.
His balls slapped against the curve of your ass as the sound of skin against skin filled the alleyway. It wasn’t exactly a public path, but you knew many people liked to make the shortcut towards pothos through here, so the thought of being caught sent a discomfiting heat straight to your pelvis.
But Kaji fucked into you with purpose, settling on a desperate pace that had him willing you towards your climax hard and fast. The material of his hoodie was too thick to feel his body through, as you moved your hands to the back of his skull to feel skin against skin as you delighted in the sticky tack of his sweaty body against yours.
The rough brick scraped against your back with each sharp thrust, certain to leave marks behind as you tried your best to meet his movements from your precarious position.
“You’re always so good to me, pretty girl,” He rambled, his blunt cockhead grazing against your cervix with each forward motion, “So perfect.”
Kaji’s love is like a tsunami— indiscriminate, ferocious and all-consuming in its power. His waves crash down to encompass you, and carry you out to sea. It’s pure, unbridled power and it terrifies you sometimes quite how much you love him in return.
“Oi,” He smacks the curve of your ass playfully before gripping it hard, fingertips dip into the plush skin as he changes the angle of his thrusts, “What you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”
“You.” You answer truthfully, as though there could ever be another answer.
Kaji’s lips curl into a small, genuine grin at your answer. Unable to stop himself from leaning forward to bring you into a sloppy kiss, drowning out your moans of pleasure as he continued to pound his cock into your dripping cunt.
You were positive you wouldn’t last much longer, especially with the way his cock moulded you into the shape of him. The prominent veins dragging against your inner walls with each cant of his hips, paired with the way the hairs at the base of his cock gave a delicious friction to your puffy clit every time he buried himself inside you the hilt had you racing towards your impending climax and you weren’t going to last much longer.
“I know you’re close,” He rasped gruffly, teeth nipping at your pulse point, “I can feel you clamping down around me.”
“Fuck, Ren.” Your lips parted in a near-constant groan when Kaji slipped a hand between your connected bodies to press his thumb against your clit, rubbing messy figures of eight against the sensitive nub as he pushed you towards your end.
Your lashes fluttered as you felt him bite down against your jugular, his tongue salving the mark as your walls clenched in response. Teetering on the precipice of bliss you continued to moan from each messy rut of his hips inside your wet heat before you found yourself falling into euphoria.
“Oh, shit.” You gasped as you felt your climax flow through you in harsh waves, your hips jerking as you came undone against him with a jumbled cry of his name. Your nails dug into the back of his neck as your thighs shook with pleasure, feeling Kaji continue to fuck you through your release as his thumb kept consistent against your clit. It was all too much and not enough at the same time as your walls continued to pulse around him, trying to milk his cock of his spend as you rode out your release.
“Ren.” Your lips parted in a constant pant as you tried desperately to remember to breathe, tongue almost lolling out from between glossy lips as Kaji adjusted your thigh on his hip. Holding you tight as he began to use your body for his own pleasure, fucking into you with haste as he searched for his end. His balls were heady and swollen with cum as they begged to spill into your eager hole, “I wanna make you cum too,”
“You don’t even have to fuckin’ try.” He grunted, your walls clung to him even tighter since your release. Increasing the pleasurable sensation as his pace became languid and desperate, messily thrusting his lips into you as he cherished the way your walls were squeezing around his cock, “I’m gonna—”
“Do it inside.” You barely managed to rasp out breathlessly as Kaji let out a sinful groan in response. Your nails digging into the back of his neck only heightened the pleasure as he gave a few more sloppy thrusts before spilling his spunk inside you with a debauched groan.
“Fu-uck.” Kaji’s hips pressed snugly against yours to the hilt as he emptied his heavy balls inside you. Shooting streams of whited, hot cum inside your water walls as your cunt continued to clench around him in satisfaction.
“Take it.” He whispered gruffly, pressing a kiss to the seam of your parted lips as you continued to pant, pathetically trying to capture your breath back.
You basked together in the afterglow as Kaji indulged in you for a moment longer, delighting in the fact you were pumped full of his release as you reached up to push his sweaty fringe away from his face, exposing his forehead as you gave the gash on his brow another frown. The blood now caked and cracked against his skin as Kaji snorted at your face.
“Don’t look at me like that after we just had sex.” He pouts, as you playfully push your finger against his lips to try and push them back down.
“Your cuts gonna get infected— ahh,” You broke off into a whine when Kaji began to pull his softening cock from your tightness, his wound immediately forgotten as he moved his focus to the mess now seeping out of your trembling hole and drooling down your inner thighs. Kaji was quick to save the moisture as he collected it on his two fingers, dragging it back up to your abused sex to push it back inside you as you gasped in surprise. He was quick to move your panties back into place as you grimaced at the sensation of your combined essence soaking the fabric.
“I’ll be fine.” He teased when you gave his wound another look, “I’ve been through worse.”
“That’s not the point.” You deadpanned, watching as Kaji moved back slightly to tuck his softening cock back inside his skinny jeans. Your head rested back against the brick wall as you held onto his arms to prevent your legs from giving out and collapsing to the floor. His touch was gentle as he smoothed your skirt back down your thighs and adjusted your top that had ridden up during the tryst. Unable to stop himself from stealing another kiss from your pouty lips.
“How could I not be fine when I have you to look after me.” Kaji grinned as he bent down in front of you to pick the fallen sucker up from the ground, fingers working at tugging the wrapper off before shoving the stick between his lips.
“Yeah, well you owe me another date night.” You pouted as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders to lead you towards the local kombini. Practically feeling the warmth still radiating from him as he pulled you against his side.
“What’s wrong with going out now?” You turned your head to look up at him in exasperation as you scrunched your nose.
“You’re ridiculous— you realise you’re covered in blood and I’m now full of you,” You huffed, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks at the smug smirk Kaji gave you as you jabbed his chest with a firm finger, “We’re gonna grab some supplies from the kombini and I’m taking you home to fix it.”
“Sounds good, I need to pick up some more suckers—” He smiled, ignoring the throb that still ebbed through his head from the hits he’d endured barely an hour ago as he squeezed your shoulder playfully.
“Kaji!” You glared at the man beside you.
“Don’t call me that when I was just balls deep inside you five minutes ago, sweetheart.”
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mandy-asimp · 1 day
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A game for two
Pairing: emily Prentiss x fem! Reader (she/her pronouns)
Warnings: teasing, profanity, smut, fluff(?),
Summary: y/n is the youngest agent with a TikTok account. And after video goes viral, people notice a connection between her and emily.
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"Come on Pen! It'll be a quick break. No longer than thirty minutes!" Y/n beamed as she dragged Penelope from her office.
It was a known scene for anyone to see. The youngest member of the BAU pulling someone or a few others with her to teach them a new trend. Posting on a page she ran and deemed the official BAU page, naming it bootylicious_BAUbaddies. Fitting.
"What even is the trend this time? You post like every single day, people are gonna think we don't do our jobs." The blonde grabbed the phone. It was a complex dance with a lot of camera work. "This is what you want to post onto the BAU page? You don't think it's a bit risqué?"
The word made Y/n laugh, "it's an unofficial page under my personal information. I can post whatever I want. Plus, you are the only one who understands camera work." That's when her eyes landed on Matt and JJ walking in. "Omg! Can you guys throw papers and be flashlights?!"
"Y/n...we just got home from a case. It's almost midnight." JJ sighed, putting her stuff down anyways to help out. "Is it another dance?"
"Another? You did one today?" Penelope frowned, had Y/n found someone else to film her?
"It was a rough draft of the dance. So I could critique it and work on it. I only learned it this morning. Spencer filmed...but he doesn't have your magic Penelope," she reassured. "Lights on the sides at all times, Penelope moves forward following me, and it'll be a one take if you do it right."
Emily watched the one take from her office. Amazed by how smoothly someone could move even after a long day of murder. But yet, there was Y/n. Stretching very lightly before getting in position. The faint music from the phone played as Y/n moved in ways that made Emily blush from her office.
"You had all this energy for that dance, but you didn't have enough when running?" JJ teased, putting her phone away as she collected her belongings. "Goodnight to you all, I hopefully won't see you till nine." She left quickly, needing to get home.
Everyone else was close behind as their day came to an end. Another case and dance completed.
What Y/n didn't know, was that dance would be the one to bring her page to light.
By the morning, when Y/n was on her way, she had checked. Laughing a little bit about is the video blew up, but she scrolled and found another little idea to do. It was something simple and sweet, giving a kiss on the cheek to everyone and seeing their reaction.
It truly was harmless since the team was used to her affectionate behavior. She made it known that she cares for everyone on levels they don't even realize. How she had made it a point to spend time with them all individually continuously.
By the time she got to the bureau she could spot almost nobody. Her eyes jumped to the round table room, frowning as they all waved her in.
She set her stuff down and trudged over, "one day serial killers will respect our schedule." She sat before looking at the screen. Her frown instantly becoming laughter as it was her video. "Thats what you all were in here for?"
"Well it's only been up for a few hours and it's already surpassed three million likes." Penelope dropped the tablet with the data pulled up. "You put the BAU as one of the top units now."
"Means we'll have a lot more attention on us, and as the unit chief I have to remind you, just because it's personal, doesn't mean it won't affect you. If something is posted that is not appropriate to share, there will be consequences. Use this freedom wisely Y/n." Emily bowed her head and walked out. Heading to her office, where she would watch the dance over a few times before getting back to work.
And that's how most the day was. Just another paper work day with Y/n going around and gauging reactions from everyone for her next video.
Penelope covered her face and kissed her all over, leaving bright pink lipstick marks and a blushing Y/n. They also recorded the cleaning up and retouching as a separate video.
Luke gave his classic smile, which only earned him an eye roll and a playful laugh as he spun her and dipped her.
JJ smiled and gave a wide smile. The two talked about how sometimes the trends Y/n did brought light to such a dark job. And JJ really appreciated that.
Spencer was taken aback and started spewing facts about germs as Y/n wiped off her lips gloss from his cheek.
Rossi thought the trend was stupid, but still let it happen. Never having a smile on his face, making the viewers think he wasn't a happy old man.
The only one left was Emily. And Y/n couldn't have been happier. She knocked lightly before waltzing in. Setting the phone down on the desk, already recording as Y/n pulled over a chair.
"And what is this trend?" Emily looked at the camera, more watching how Y/n fixed her appearance and reapplied lip gloss. She was so entranced by the young agent.
Her eyes then jumped back to herself, she had silver hair and a few wrinkles. She wasn't as young as she used to be anymore. "You are still beautiful for your age, Prentiss." Her voice broke in. Could she read minds? "No you forget I'm one of the best qualifying new agents in my generation. Of course I can read your mind when you space off."
"Right..." Emily whispered. "So the trend?"
Y/n beamed, "yes the trend! In short because I can't tell you too much, it's quick simple, and everyone else can tell you that if you need another backing source. Even Rossi took part."
Emily pondered over for a second, but overall agreed. "Ok. I'll bite."
And so the younger grabbed Emily's phone, having already pre sent her the audio before walking in. "You know, I'm surprised you even have TikTok on your phone. I figured you would've been apart of the group that thinks it's useless and a waste of time. But then when I got the little notification that you joined, I have to admit, I got a bit excited. I can teach you about it if you ever need. And teach you any trend you want to learn." Y/n rambled on. Not giving Emily a chance to say anything as the sound started.
Soft music began to play as the two sat there and Y/n just so suddenly turned and kissed Emily's cheek. Her lip gloss shining against her pale skin, that soon turned a light pink. Her world went silent as her heart hammered and she looked to Y/n with a stunned smile.
It was silent as the two just stared at each other. But it wasn't a friendly stare it seems, Emily was looking absolutely smitten and Y/n could see it. The thought that her boss could possibly like her making her grow a matching pink.
The sound ended and began to replay, but was lost upon deaf ears. Suddenly the room felt different. Did it suddenly get warm in here?
Y/n was forced to watch as Emily glanced down to her lips. Licking her own in the process. It made her blush even deeper. "Emily..." she barely got out.
The silver fox leaned in closer to her prey. Suddenly eager to get just a taste. Her hand reached up to cup Y/n's soft cheek, feeling truly how warm she was. Smiling down at the stunned agent.
She pulled Y/n closer. Just barely touching their lips. Emily enjoyed the small gasp that escaped as her eyes widen in shock.
However, the knock at the door ruined their moment. Emily grabbed her phone, turning it off to end the song playing on repeat. That's when she noticed the other phone still recording the whole moment. And she flashed a smile to the camera, her canine seeming to twinkle in the light.
"Come in," she recomposed herself. Hands folded on the table.
Y/n on the other hand, had composed herself on the outside. But internally she was a wreck. She never knew Emily would be so capable of making her a mess. Yeah, she's thought about it, but it wasn't anything like what just happened.
JJ poked her head in. "We just got a case....it's bad." The worry on her face being enough for both to snap into work mode.
~
The case was over in a week. A week of sleepless nights and too much coffee. Everyone was exhausted.
"I can not wait to be on that plane," Y/n groaned. "I swear I'm taking tomorrow off. I'm going to sleep all day long."
"Now that does not sound like a bad idea," Luke agreed, along with the others. "A nice little at home day. What do you say Chief?" He turned to Emily.
She took a good look at everyone's exhausted face, and her decision was clear but she took too long to observe and didn't notice Y/n walking over and hugging her.
"If you say no, I will make the world think you actually hate us." Y/n playfully threatened, smiling up to her boss and practically skipping back to her bags. "I mean it." She suddenly had a serious face on.
Emily knew it was just the sleep deprivation that was causing this much attitude. But a little part of her, felt that she really did mean it. "Fine, tomorrow you can all have the day off. It'll be Saturday anyways." She gave in.
They all cheered as they boarded the plane. Spencer spread out on the small couch, JJ across curled up into a chair, Luke and Rossi on the other side sitting horizontally from each other, Matt and Tara in the other seats across from each other. Then there was Emily.
Y/n figured she would've sat across her, keeping a small space, but she wasn't complaining when she sat next to her. "Switching it up on me?" She teased.
"Mm well, I figured last time we were this close we got even closer." She threw back, reminding the agent of their last encounter. "Did you ever post the video?"
Slightly stunned, she shook her head. Her ponytail brushing against the seat and reminding her of her headache. She went to reach for it, eager to pull it out.
"Here," Emily broke in quickly. "Let me," her hands were up by the black rubber band suddenly. Carefully pulling at it and the hair. Dropping the hair tie onto the table and taking it upon herself to scratch the others head. Her nails sending tingles all down Y/n's body.
And y/n couldn't deny it, Emily was good with her hands. She seem to suddenly know how to touch her in ways she didn't even know. She scratched in the right spot and she hummed a moan as her eyes were shut.
The team all looked over to the two of them. Questioning at first but then laughing. "So she finally gets the famous 'Prentiss scratch," Spencer cracks the joke.
"Have you all had one..." Y/n sharply inhaled when she got a new spot. "Ohmygod..." she whispered as her face contorted.
"Enjoy it while it last, you only experience it once. Mine was four years ago." Luke mentioned.
"Mine was for my birthday, I felt like my hair was thirty times lighter." JJ gave her experience. Soon everyone was talking about theirs.
And before she could process any words, Emily's hands were leaving from her head. "No, don't stop!" She protested, earning chuckles from around at the reaction. But her hands left anyways, and Y/n whipped to look at Emily. Her pupils blown wide.
It wasn't a reaction Emily thought she could get. Did her touch really work her agent up that much? A sly smirk crossed her lips as she shook her head and turned away.
"You can't just give us the knowledge of how good your head scratches are and then just rip it away! That's vicious!" She put up a fight. Hoping that it would get Emily to continue her actions. "I thought you liked us..." her eyes suddenly pleading.
"I'm with her on this one, come on Prentiss!" Luke played along. "It's a gift, those hands."
Y/n dropped her head to look at Emily's hands. They were stunning. How only a few rings decorated them, but they all matched perfectly. Matching the bracelet that wrapped her wrist. Then were her arms. Strong and yet so careful. Sculpted by the best.
"Those hands..." Y/n mouthed to herself. Her eyes snapping up to Emily's. Already finding hers staring back. With a huff and blushing cheeks, Y/n turned away.
~
Y/n woke up, but it was colder on the planes than usual. Everyone was asleep, and by best guess they still have four more hours. It was too cold to sleep though, she wanted her sweatshirt.
But she was on the inside, the window seat. It was either over and out or under or just climb over the sleeping woman.
"Do you need something?" Emily's eyes fluttered open. Her head rolling over to stare. Even waking up she was still beautiful.
"It's cold..." she mumbled. Hoping it wasn't to much to ask, "my sweatshirt is in my bag." But instead, Emily slipped out of hers and handed it over. Falling back asleep before any protest could begin.
She sat there with the sweatshirt in hand. Knowing there was nothing to do but put it on. And so she did, along with setting up her phone and grabbing the mic of her headphones.
The video began. "Hey vlog, or whatever...turns out, I read her ," the camera panned over to Emily. "Signs right! She gave me her sweatshirt and the video we made...guys listen I can't even add it in because of how intimate it is. Maybe I'm delusional though. Cause she's literally my boss ...I think I'm being crazy....nah, she definetly likes me. Emily Prentiss, I hope you're ready for what's next." And the video ended. Lasting a little over a minute.
But she didn't fall back asleep, she couldn't. Her mind raced with too much thoughts. For another two hours she had to weighs her pros and cons of going for it.
Eventually she rubbed her eyes and sighed. She leaned back and closed her eyes again. Counting sheep until she drifted off.
A few more hours had passed, leaving only an hour left until the landing. Emily had woken up know. Instantly feeling something on her shoulder. Slowly looking down, she saw Y/n peacefully asleep.
In her moment, she pulled out her phone and took a few pictures. Dropping it quickly as the other stirred awake. Lifting her head and peeling open her eyes.
"That was some good sleep, holy shit." She yawned. Her comment earning tired laughs from everyone else. She leaned over to Emily, "see how they all are followers? Waking up at the same time as me? Wannabes." She joked.
Emily shook her head. "I'm glad you got some sleep." She hummed. Checking her phone now, and when she opened it, the pictures were pulled up. She tried to swiped out of them, but Y/n had seen them.
Blushing madly when the woman met her eyes. It was a hard stare, causing feelings to arise when they shouldn't. Her legs squeezed slightly at the eye contact. "Was that...I'm sorry if I was leaning, I truly didn't mean to." The apology fell with a laugh following. It was genuine and still light. "You're a little weird though, Unit Cheif Prentiss. Taking pictures of your young sleeping agent."
Her comment was full of playfulness. Emily knew that easily. It made her smile slightly. "Can you blame me? When a cute agent as yourself is sleeping, it's no doubt I'd take pictures."
Y/n elbowed her arm and shook her head, looking down to her phone. "Be careful, if someone sees they'll think I'm your sugar baby." The joke fell without second thought.
It caught Emily off guard. How easy the joke was made. She didn't continue playing the game, silently pondering over the joke.
"Seems like someone can't handle being a sugar mommy," Tara teased from across the way. Having watched the entire interaction. "Should make it your lock screen, really sell it. It'll bring you in more sugar babies. Have one for everyday of the week."
Y/n scoffed with a smirk, "who says I wanna share my new found sugar mommy? I like the attention only on me."
The jet laughed. "You make enough to not even need a sugar mommy, plus, sharing is caring." Matt butted in now.
"Even if I don't need financial support, Prentiss is still attractive and also...I don't care." She gave a shrug, looping her arms with the woman next to her and leaning on her. "There's only room for one sugar baby in her life."
Emily couldn't believe the conversation she was hearing. The term they kept using. Sugar mommy. Would Y/n let her spoil her if she asked?
Then there was the physical contact. How she held onto her. Pushing her breast against her arm and holding on so possessively. Who says I wanna share....her words rang in Emily's head. She wouldn't want to have anyone else if she had her.
She took a quick glance down to the other, finding her completely unphased by the conversation. Instead she was scrolling through her phone, looking for a new trend to partake in.
~
It had been a few days now. Everyone was doing paperwork and trying to finish their day. That's when Penelope came rushing in towards Y/n.
"People are noticing!" She squealed as she put the phone onto the desk. There was an edit made between the young agent and her boss. Comments about how they look 'down bad' for each other. "You and Emily are becoming a very popular topic, fifth trending hashtag."
"That's hilarious. How much evidence is built against us now?" She scrolled through a few comments, them all making her smile. She took it upon herself to scroll further on the new hashtag. Over a thousand videos reacting to the edit and a few more edits.
"Just wait till they find out she's your sugar mommy," Tara came and took interest in the phone as well. "Looking at it now, you two do look like you're beating around the bush."
"Well that's cus it's only a one sided bush. Emily Prentiss does not want anything romantic to do with me." Y/n clicked off the phone, handing it back over. "She probably wants someone more wise and shit. I have a TikTok account with the term bootylicious in it."
Both woman looked down in disbelief. That when JJ came in. "I have know Emily for a while now, and I can tell you know, that woman let's you get away with more than she ever would've. There's definitely two sides of the bush."
The woman in question came out, looking over her team and being curious of what the women were all talking about. "What's the conversation?"
Y/n sighed, "we've become a trending hashtag. They're beginning to think we're more than just friends. Then Tara made the joke about when they find out you're my sugar mommy." She explained shortly. Leaving out the bush part.
"Oh? What are they saying?" Emily questioned, almost feeling desperate to hear more of this new information.
Penelope opened the phone and handed it over. The four letting their boss scroll a bit and read. A small smile cracking on her lips. "Yeah...wait till they find out you're my sugar baby." Emily joked as well.
Truly, she was hiding the sudden excitement. Was there a chance? Surely she had made enough moves for the other to figure it...right? She almost did kiss her the other week.
"I have a meeting though, if anything comes through just shoot me a text." She made her exit, the smile really growing as she couldn't stop thinking of the two together. The things that she would do.
But the thoughts got lost over the long day. Papers being filled out and turned in. By the end, everyone was just happy to be free.
Emily had walk out, her bag in hand. Confirming they were actually done.
"We so have to get drinks. We haven't had a day were we finished reasonably on time." Y/n groaned, stretching from her chair. "Plus I wanna do who we all think will be the drunkest."
"If it's a competition I'm so there," Luke agreed. "But you're so going down."
Tara scoffed, "you do not want to play any drinking game with that one. She reigns undefeated on girls nights."
"We don't know how she does it, she's held the title since the first night. We were all set up that night..." Penelope reminisced in the memory. How drunk they all were...
"But you're so welcomed to try, Alvez." She beamed in pride. "I say we all change and meet in an hour?"
They all agreed and began to walk out together. Emily noticed how Y/n walked over to Penelope's car. "I can drive you?" She offered. "I live closer than Pen does to you so she wouldn't have to go out her way."
She glanced to Penelope, her head now facing away from Emily. Giving the blonde a wink before turning back. "Sure, it makes more sense. Though, this is very sugar mommy esc of you, Emily." She joked as she walked over. Looking through her lashes with such an innocent look, "I bet you'll even put your hand on my thigh and help me pick what to wear, won't you?"
Emily stared down, her pupils dilating at the words. Her lips curled into a devious smile. Her mind running with possibilities.
She simply turned, leading back to her car. Opening the door for the other as she slowly rounded the car, the smirk never leaving her lips.
And for the entire drive her hand traced circled on the others thigh. Yet, Emily never got a reaction. Y/n played it cool and just scrolled through her phone.
Although, Y/n could hardly read anything on her screen. The burning sensation being the only thing she could truly think of. But she enjoyed the game, eager to see how much Emily could take before loosing it.
They parked and walked in silence next to each other. The teen in the main lobby giving a second glance at how the two looked. She had seen the edit and couldn't believe her eyes now. Quick to pull out her phone and film the two getting into the elevator. Capturing how Emily's right hand fell to Y/n's lower back and the two shared a look before moving. Disappearing into the silver box.
Y/n gave a small exhale once it was just the two of them. "Someone can't handle their own game?" Emily's words were quick. Her eyes already staring back and full of wonder.
"I don't know what you're getting at, Agent Prentiss" she tried to deny the grin but it was useless once she looked at Emily. The whole situation was just setting in to her.
It set in even faster when the silver fox had her against the elevator wall. Her right hand gripping at her jaw as the other held her close by the waist. "You don't seriously think you'll win, do you?" Her voice was vicious. "Y/n, you're so much smart than that." Her brown eyes scanned over ever feature, lasting the longest on the plush lips.
The elevator dinged, and in a blink Emily was off her. Standing as if nothing happened, but she was stunned when Y/n walked away...unbothered entirely.
Her hands fiddled with her keys before finding the one to unlock her apartment. Laughing lightly as Emily rested her hands on her hips. "You are handsy, I must say." She joked. As the door unlocked, her hips pushed back into the others, causing the hands to slip more forward. A playful gasp came, "maybe even too handsy!"
She broke from the grasp, entering the home and taking a deep breath. "It's nice to be home," she dropped her stuff by the door. Y/n disappeared around a corner, only giving the choice to follow.
When Emily obeyed, she was speechless. The view from the big window was insane. Being able to see over half the city and the bureau. "If you would like to pregame, I have a mean stash of dark."
"Trying to get me drunk already?" The older came closer, leaning against the cool marble counter. Once again, her answer was a mere laugh.
Y/n had this glimmer in her eyes. It's the same one she has every time she's about to say something unexpected. This time being no different.
She came close to her boss, leaning into her and pulling her down by the neck. "I don't need you to be drunk for you to sleep with me. I already have you and you didn't even notice, so much for a profiler." She backed off now, still housing that devious look. "It's a shame the teams waiting for us, would've loved to see where this went..." her voice trailed off as her eyes looked Emily up and down.
Y/n winked, leaving the guest in the living room as she went to her bedroom. At first not hearing foot steps behind her, then they were hot on her trail. Glancing over her shoulder, she couldn't help the rush of excitement at the frustrated Emily. Everything was going to plan.
Emily turned to shut the door, carefully and not slamming it. Spinning on her heal to really lay it down, but Y/n stood by the closet entrance fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Pulling it up slowly, but right when her bra shows, she turns. Entering the closet with a sexy sway in her hips.
She passed through her outfits, trying to find the new dress she ordered. As she was about to push the George Town sweater over, hands wrapped around her waist and a nose was burrowing into her hair.
She let it play out, continuing to search for the dress. Stepping over twice while the woman still held her. Her hand pushed the black formal dress over, finding just what she was looking for. She felt the felt of the hanger under her hand, but forgot everything by a new touch. Soft lips hovered over her neck, letting warm breaths fan over the skin. Skilled hands roaming up to her chest and cupping her boobs through the bra.
The moan was light, quiet. But the groan following from behind was deep, lustful. "Is that all it took? Touching you right?" Emily whispered against her ear.
Y/n wanted to cave in, she was ready to as well, but she knew just one more would win her everything. So, with a steady hand, she grabbed the dress and turned in Emily's arm. "And what would you know about touching me right? Do you fantasize about me? Is that how you know?" Her voice steadier than ever.
Emily let her tongue dart over her lips. "You have no idea..." she thought this was it. That drinks would be forgotten and she could finally have her.
But it's never easy with Y/n. "I can give you a sneak peak if you'd like..." she beamed up to Emily. Not giving her the chance to respond as the younger stood on her tip-toes to be next to her ear. Fake quiet moans falling from her plush lips, "oh...right there...yes Emily...yes.."
Her grip tightened on the other's waist as her breathing became erratic. "Baby, id make you scream." She leaned her lips closer. She was right there, lips practically on hers.
That's when the small laugh came, and Emily had no idea what was so funny. "I always win," was all she got out before breaking away and leaving Emily on the verge on loosing it.
She groaned again, this time in frustration. Her head was shaking as she tried to piece together what the next move could be. The dress, she figured.
Her eyes snapped up when she thought of the outfit. Hands covering her face as she tossed her head back. It hugged onto her so well, showing off enough legs to keep Emily busy for hours. The perfect amount of cleavage could be seen. And the flowy sleeves to give a little arm coverage. It fell right below her ass.
Emily swallowed thickly as she left towards the door. Trying to ignore the sound of laughter that followed her out. "Can't handle a little skin?" She teased as she brushed pass. Locking her door before looping her arm to Emily's and handing over her keys.
The action confused Emily. "Why didn't you bring a purse? I'm sure you had one?" They stood outside the elevator.
"I don't plan to come home tonight," Y/n hummed. She stepped a little closer to the woman, squeezing her arm just a little to bring her eyes down. "That is...if you give up first. Cause I can play this out all night. And personally, I don't think you can last all night."
"You have no idea what I'm capable of, bunny." She gave the new nickname. And it made Y/n's heart beat a little faster and her smile grow a little more. The blush dusting her cheeks as her pupils dilated a little more.
"Bunny? Is that because you're a silver fox?" Y/n joked, feeling excited at the new found name. The elevator opened and the two get on. Just them. Neither one stepping away or saying anything until they hit the eight floor.
The doors opened and in walked a man that seemed unfamiliar. He was fine as he was...until he gave a once over on Y/n, then one on Emily. The difference being the smirk he gave the first, then the disgusted he gave the second.
He seemed closer to Y/n's age, and that's what they assumed was the reason for his comment. "If you ever get tired of the old hag, I can support you." The words fell out and both agents seemed star struck.
"And what is it you do for a living?" Y/n asked, loving how the interacting had Emily pull her closer to her and wrapped her arm around to hold her hips.
"I'm a college professor. Youngest in my building." He flashed his smile. Enjoying the attention, but soon letting his mood fall when the woman shared a look. "And what does she do? Crochet and feed her cats?"
"She's the FBI's section chief....so I think she's got you beat..." Y/n shrugged with a mocking look. Getting a mean look as he got off on the fifth floor. Grumbling as he shook his head. The doors closed a few seconds after. "I told you people think you're my sugar mommy."
Emily scoffed and let the tiny smile spread on her lips. "Maybe you're the one who fantasizes...this whole sugar mommy talk. Would you like me to spoil you rotten? Is that what this whole game is?" Her hand sliding down from the hip to rest right on her lower back.
It was a quick motion suddenly. She pushed Y/n forward and let her arms wrap her up. Her left hand holding onto the left boob and her right hand gripping her right thigh.
Y/n's hips pushed back into Emily. "I don't kn-,"
"I don't know? But bunny, you do know. You know you want to give in and just let me have you." Her hand slid closer to her core. "We could have so much fun if you give in."
It was tempting, but she shook her head. They were at the second floor. Trying to ignore the hand slipping into her panties. How close she was.
The elevator dinged, and Emily was off in no time. Something she was so good at. Disappearing like a ghost. Leaving Y/n cold from her touch.
The doors opened and Y/n relooped their arms. Passing the teen in the lobby once again. Y/n flashing her a friendly smile as they left. Emily's car being right in the front.
~
It was about two in the morning, and the drinking battle was about to begin. With the entire bar watching, Luke and Y/n had ten shots of light, and three dark shots.
Matt stood behind him, cheering him on. Saying how the rumors were fake and she couldn't drink. And Y/n knew they were all drunk and just saying things cause they can.
Emily was behind her. Hands on her hips as she gave them a squeeze. "Put him in his place and make me proud, bunny." Her voice was seductive on all levels.
Y/n met Luke's eyes. Both having hands on the pool table by their first shot. "You're so fucked Alvez," she slurred. She leaned over to him slightly, "I'm gonna make her proud."
"Wait let's film this!" Penelope came up. Setting up one of their phones to capture both of them. Giving a drunk thumbs up as Tara stood on the other end.
She inhaled, "ok, I want it nice and clean. Ready.." the room went silent. "Set..." the two contestants glance at each other one last time. "Go!" Tara shouted.
It was a blur, truly. Shot after shot. They stayed close the entire time, but by the fifth, Luke began to slow by a millisecond. That was all Y/n need for a lead, and she jumped three shots ahead. Making it to the darks before he could get down his sixth. Cheering when she slammed down the last one.
Her arms in the air as the room cheered with her. "I told you Alvez! I make my woman proud!" She gloated around. Reaching and grabbing the two dark shots he never made it to and turned to hand one to Emily. Pleased when she understood and they shared the victory.
JJ laughed at the sight, "do you even have a limit?" She also grabbed an unfinished shot. Passing one to Tara and Penelope. Matt taking the last vodka shot and handing Rossi the dark.
Y/n shook her head with a wide smile. "I was the academies party animal. I had to be able to out drink everyone." She spilled her secrets.
"You're who threw the party that nearly caused a city power outage?" Tara furrowed her brows, enjoying the openness.
Y/n grinned, "that's me! I out drank Captain Johnson that night." She took pride in that achievement.
"Mmm as much as I would love to hear a drunk confession, we are closed. Your drinking battle was the last round I poured." The bartender came over and informed.
And everyone was out within half an hour. The team biding drunken goodbyes as they went their own ways. Everyone too drunk to notice Y/n and Emily leaving together.
Their drive back to the closer apartment being filled with humming and wind blowing through the car. They stopped at a stop sign, and Y/n stopped humming along.
A sudden realization that the night was almost over...and Emily had still yet to make the her move. "What's wrong?" Her voice rang through her head. "You seem upset now..." the worry laced her words, only to be countered with a cute pout.
"You're being stubborn." Y/n grumbled. The effects of how much she drank really getting her in the car. Which was new for Emily to be witnessing.
She figured that the passenger would be more submissive now, but that would be too easy. Y/n was the farthest thing from easy. Always throwing in a curve ball. This was her drunken curve ball.
While the light stayed red, she just acted. Grabbing Emily's jaw with her light pink nails digging just slightly into her soft flesh. She brought the older closer, tight to touching their lips.
"Why won't you give in?" She pouted. Eyes flickering down to her lips, then back up. "Do you not want me? Have you played me Emily?" Her voice was quiet and fragile.
A laugh nearly fell out of Emily's mouth, but she contained it. Grabbing the hand that held her face, "because I want to be able to do whatever I want with you." She pulled the hands away as the light turned green. Y/n huffed and crossed her arms. Looking away and out the window. "Pouting about it won't help your side, bunny. You could give in and we'd be over this game already."
"No," the response was instant. Her eyes wide and back on Emily. "I'll play this game forever until you give in. I know you want me in ways I can't even think of, so you'll be the one suffering. Especially since you can't do anything about it." She yapped. Her mind truly telling her that her plan was going to work.
Emily rolled her eyes as they pulled up to Y/n's apartment. Ignoring the questions of why they were here. She opened the passenger door, sighing at the agent who was acting childish.
"Y/n."
"No."
"Y/n, let's go."
"No."
They got into a staring match. And Emily was just not having it anymore. It was late and she was tired just as much as the other was. So instead, she reached in.
"Wait no, stop!" Y/n tried to protest but the hold Emily had was too strong. She was thrown over the shoulder as she kept trying to get free. "Out me down! My butts gonna show!"
That's when a hand was placed over it. Holding the dress down and making Y/n burn red. As soon as it was there, it was gone and she was set down. Facing the elevator.
"You're no fun." She grumbled. Meeting the brown eyes in the reflection. It earned her a small laugh as the doors opened and she got nudged in.
"And you're drunk. If that's even possible." Emily joked. Her hands found home on the others waist. Holding her swaying body up and from falling. "But you did take thirteen shots in a row. Which I must say, is pretty impressive."
Y/n suddenly switched moods. Turning with a bright smile. "Anything to make you proud." Her eyes being genuine with each word. "Luke never stood a chance anyways."
"That confident from the start, huh?" Her brow arched in question.
Y/n shrugged, "I had you on my side from the start. Well actually I planned it and you fell right into the trap. But shhh that's a secret." Her index finger rose to her lips.
"Your trap?" Emily was full of curiosity now. What plan did she come up with? "Tell me about it?" But she shook her head, spinning to face the silver doors. "Please? What did that pretty head plan?" Still nothing. "Bunny?"
The doors opened and the younger was gone. Swaying while fidgeting with her keys for the right one.
It wasn't until Emily came up and carefully grabbed the keys. Getting the door open in only a few seconds. The accomplishment getting a loud cheer from Y/n, who was being directed into the apartment.
This did not set well with Y/n. And making it easy wasn't gonna happen either.
Before Emily knew it, she was chasing Y/n down the hallway. Scooping her up bridal style. "We do not need to be running around like this. Someone will hear us and file a complaint."
Y/n gave a chuckle, "we're the only ones on the floor," she pointed Emily's chest. Stumbling into the apartment and kicking off her shoes. She found her way to infront the big windows.
Emily moved in the silence to get a glass of water. She figured Y/n would stay by the window...but then again she just chased her down the hall.
Arms wrapped around her and a head hit the back of her dark silk shirt. The action was cute, she'd admit that, but she was also set to get some water in with all the alcohol.
Without thinking much of her actions, she turned and gently gripped the jaw. Tilting her head back and bring the glass to her lips. "Drink." Emily simply commanded. Watching at how easily she complied, tapping twice on her wrist to say she was done. "No. All of it. If you can do thirteen shots you can finish a glass of water."
~
Waking up, Y/n felt like hot garbage. She had to have been drunk last night for the consequences she would face. Especially once her stomach begin to turn. In a blink she was in the bathroom. Letting the night free from herself.
There was a hand holding back her hair and another on her back. And if she wasn't regretting whatever happened, she would've been in defense mode instantly.
"I'll go get you some water," Emily's voice rang in her head. Oh dear god. What happened last night?
She sat back and tried to recall anything. Not getting past roughly ten. She came home with Emily, then went out for drinks, then had said drinks.
The possibilities of what could've happened continue to haunt her. "Here," the voice broke her thoughts. She looked up to Emily, who was giving such a kind look almost always while looking at her and holding out a glass of water.
It made her feel less nervous. "Emily Prentiss, did you sleep with your sugar baby while she was drunk?" She joked about what she thought happened, taking the glass. She wanted to know what happened in the missing hours.
The comment made her boss flush pink, "no! No you were far too out of it for anything of that sorts..." She shook her head, pausing ever so slightly. "I'd want you to remeber screaming my name."
It was Y/n's turn to flush. "Well played." She downed the water and got up. "Unfortunately I don't remember much after ten...and seeing that it is well into the day makes me assume it was a long night?" She prepared to brush her teeth and rid of the lingering taste in her mouth.
Emily laughed at the confession. "So you would say you finally got drunk?" She teased, coming up close to the other. Y/n rolled her eyes and was about to walk away from the bathroom. But Emily grabbed her wrist and spun her back. Holding her firmly at the waist. "You didn't answer my question."
"Wouldn't you enjoy that? Me obeying you so easily?" Y/n was so easy to quip back. Never in the mood to back down. "And even if I did confess that to you, nobody would believe you."
Emily was surprised at the remark. "You think the team wouldn't believe me? And why's that? You have something to counter it?"
"If you as much say a word of me being drunk, you'll never get what you want. And I will make it only hell for you." She got closer, the two being nothing but a whisper apart.
"And what is it I want?"
"Me."
"Confident much?"
Y/n answered with a smirk of many implications. Leaving the grasp to change into a different lounge outfit.
"Do you have any Saturday plans I should be aware of?" Emily sat on the edge of the bed. Watching as Y/n moved to collect a new outfit. Throwing each article onto the bed.
"Why yes, actually! I have a hot date coming over." She flashed a smile over her shoulder. "Wouldn't want to third wheel would you?"
Emily rolled her eyes and looked towards the window, facing away from Y/n. "Your date would be the one third wheeling." She was about to stand, but she was weighed down.
Y/n had made her way over into Emily's lap, straddling her and looking down to her. "You're right. Especially because you're my sugar mommy. If they touched you I think I would've lost it."
"So you admit it?" Emily had a hopefully grin. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, this was it.
"Admit to what exactly?"
"That you would let me spoil you. Be your sugar mommy?"
"Mm...no. I don't need your money. Plus, being a sugar mommy is an arrangement with no feelings involved. And if I wanted to put myself through a literal living hell than I would, but that's not on my bucket list. Not good for my mental state either." She answered truthfully without directly saying her truth.
Emily processed the words, slowly putting them together. Not realizing how Y/n began to form a smile and get up. Her head shaking while she thought in her own world.
"I don't have any Saturday plans. The most is finding some movie that I haven't seen before. Do you have any Saturday plans?" She began to get dress.
Emily was still in her own world with the words. And when she looked back to the now dressed woman, she was full of questions.
"So does that mean...?" Was all she let out, still not knowing if she meant was she meant.
Y/n laughed and came to stand in front of Emily. Hands on her shoulders, and Emily's pulled her closer by the back of her thighs. "You are the worst profiler in the entire unit," Y/n teased, a cocky smirk in her lips.
"But that whole little game you played? You're telling me you meant it?" Emily stared up, confused still by the idea of it.
Someone as young as Y/n having a crush on someone older. Old enough to be her mother almost.
"The idea is not that hard to grasp Emily Prentiss. I like you for you. I don't want you for some arrangement. I want you as my girlfriend." Y/n cupped her cheek, bringing her lips to be just a breath away. "But now that you mentioned my little game, just know I still plan to win."
The younger began to back up, making the mistake of turning her back on Emily. It was the second her back was turned, that Emily was moving. Spinning her around and pinning her between the dresser.
"I am not playing your game anymore. You're not going to tell me all that and then just walk away after a night of teasing." Emily's eyes were dark and swarming with emotions.
Y/n cupped her cheek once more, watching the woman lean into the touch. Turning her head to place a kiss to her palm. From her palm to her fingertips and back, the action caused Y/n to fail at comprehending anything. How delicate Emily's lips were against her skin. To be able to feel her lips pushing against her skin.
"Give in." Y/n whispered, knowing she was only a few seconds off from giving in herself.
"What is winning to you?" Emily kept placing kisses against her skin, trailing up her arm and to her neck.
They met eyes finally, a hair apart as they stared at each other. Y/n licked her lips, "everything." And that's when Emily closed the space. Kissing hungrily but softly. Tasting the fresh mint in a delightful way.
Y/n smiled in the kiss, putting just as much emotion into it as the other, if not more. How her heart was beating to a fast pace tune, her mind was silent with only thoughts of Emily.
The two stayed there for a little before the kiss began to get more heated. Emily dropped to scatter kisses all over the others neck. Taking Y/n by surprise with a bite to her pulse point, eliciting a gasp and a grip in the silver mane.
Y/n tried to push off the dresser, her back still digging into the edge, but it seemed Emily was lost in the moment and almost growled. The sound was deep and her voice came out gravelly. "I could practically eat you, you're so sweet. Letting me have you here."
Her hands slipped under the oversized shirt, feeling how soft and warm Y/n was in contrast to her cold hands. Her rings not helping as the metal touched the skin.
Y/n tried to push off again, growing eager to get to the bed. "Emily...the bed is right behind us." She managed out, eyes glossy as she scanned over the messy duvet. Her hand came up to her chest when she didn't get an answer, pushing her off slightly to break her trance.
Emily's breathing was erratic and her pupils blown wide. Her brows dropped as she was confused by the push. "You got a bit too lost there," Y/n blushed. "Is that really what I do to you?"
"Oh bunny you have no idea," Emily smirked. Throwing a look over her shoulder to the bed. "Are you sure about this?"
Y/n followed and glance over Emily's shoulder, looking at the bed. "Yes. But...I won Emily." She smirked up, watching the dread fill her eyes. "Oh trust me, you'll enjoy me being in charge. I'm full of surprises remember?"
The older groaned and took a step back. "What is it you want me to do?" She sounded almost defeated.
Y/n laughed and pushed her back to the end of the bed. Leaning over her slightly, "you make it seem like I'm going to torture you. You wait here for five minutes, I'll knock and you'll close your eyes and then I'll tell you to open them, m'kay?"
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"Fine." Emily agreed. Sitting for the two minutes on the edge of the bed, taking in every detail in the room. Hoping to see it again. The knock had came and Emily closed her eyes.
Y/n peeked her head in first, making sure they were closed. Before going in to set up her winning. She had changed into a cute lingerie set, one she knew Emily wouldn't be able to resist.
The outfit change taking five minutes. "Ok." She stood right in front of Emily. Entirely on display for her. "You can open your eyes."
And when Emily did, her mouth ran dry. Y/n looked absolutely stunning. "I don't.."
"Ruin me Emily Prentiss." Was all Y/n had to say before she was being pulled in and being covered in kisses.
Emily took her time covering every inch she could get with kisses. Leaving several hickies on her neck before scattering them all across her chest. To anyone else it would look like a whole different story.
Y/n's pants and moans spurred the boss on. She truly would start to believe Emily had fantasize about this for how she just knew where to touch. It made her squirm for more. "Mmm, Emily..."
"I'm going to take my time with you." She was nothing short of stating a fact. "You look so adorable in this set. Have you been saving it?" Her deep brown eyes bored down at Y/n. "Did you order it with that dress from last night? I never told you how good you looked." Her head dipped down and kissed over the hardened nipple. Sending a jolt of electricity through her body. "And then when you beat Alvez," a kiss to the other. "You truly are something special, Y/n."
Her hands slipped behind to unclasp the mesh bra. Freeing the boobs and watching them naturally be. Emily licked her lips once again, ducking to the right nipple first.
Her tongue swirling over it lightly at first, but then adding more pressure. Listening to the sinful sounds that rang in the room.
"Emily...please..." Y/n breathily begged. Not knowing if she was ready for what Emily was planning. But her answer was teeth grazing her chest. Earning a new sound from the woman above.
"Baby, best things come when you wait. I want to work you up so much that it's undeniable that you'll never want anyone else." Emily answered truthfully, continuing her ministrations.
Y/n was lost in the feeling, but it wasn't enough. And it was clear it wasn't going to be enough anytime soon.
And after minutes that felt like timeless hours, Emily began to move down further. Her hair tickling in her previous place. She was back to her loving kisses all across her thighs. Feeling the legs shake slightly.
"You're so easy to work up," Emily hummed against the inner thigh. Her eyes staring up at the beauty above her. Watching as her head shook side to side. "Really?"
"You're just better than what I imagined," Y/n confessed without thinking. Realizing her words too late to even take back, and she knew they fed Emily's ego like a three course meal.
She wanted more though. Emily pulled back and hovered over Y/n, a yearning look hidden behind all the lust. "You've imagine it? So you do admit it. You've thought about me in naughty ways, how perverted of you." A laugh followed out. Making Y/n suddenly feel small at the comment, and not in an enjoyable way.
There was no answer in return and that's when Emily could see through the clouds. She had crossed a line and potentially screwed everything up.
Without realizing, the silver fox backed off entirely. Moving to the end of the bed and rubbing her eyes a bit. "Y/n...I'm sorry if I've crossed a line."
The younger sat up, crawling over to the other. Grabbing her hands and holding them silently at first. Trying to gather the right words for this situation. "...it's ok, but just know you're dealing with a pillow princess in all honesty. I like to be treated highly, like when you call me bunny. I enjoy that very, very, much. Your stone cold demeanor is sexy at work, but I want the real Emily Prentiss. The one who knows what emotions are." She snuck her hand on Emily's cheek and leaned in. Kissing her softly and with unspoken words. "Now don't let this afternoon be ruined." Y/n whispered before slowly moving toward the middle of her bed.
Sitting on her knees with her back arched and pushing her bruised chest forward. Her eyes glistening for Emily to come finish what she's started.
And Emily was not going to miss her chance. She took a deep breath and her eyes were filled with lust again. Exciting Y/n on a new level. She made her way up, standing on her knees as her hands slipped around the smooth waist. Leaning in and claiming the plush lips as her own now, forcing Y/n to bend back as well. Emily sunk down with each kiss until she was eye level.
"Can I undress you?" Y/n fiddled with the shirt. Only now realizing that Emily was in her clothes. The shirt and sweats making her seem so at peace. But as her hardened nipples poked against the fabric, it was hard not to imagine the lack undergarments.
A small smile played on Emily's lips, "of course you can, bunny." The two stood and Y/n took her time. Trying to mentally prepare to see her wild thoughts with her own eyes now.
She played with the hem of the shirt, balling it up before pushing the fabric up. Showing of the freckles that adored her chest. Taking a moment to admire the skin details, eager to ingrain every spot into her brain.
Her eyes then jumped up to Emily, who was staring and focusing on every move. "You're absolutely stunning...." Y/n let the smile take over as she leaned in for a kiss. Their bare chests pressing against each other.
The warmth of Y/n clashing with the coldness of Emily. But together they balanced the other out. Cooling down the burning skin, and warming up the icy touches.
Pulling back only slightly, Y/n slid her hands down. Slipping her hands to push down the shorts. Revealing the simple black underwear.
"Those mine?" Y/n gave a playful laugh, figuring if everything else was.
Emily shook her head though, "no I went home while you were asleep. I had to change from last night's clothes."
Y/n furrowed her brows. "So then why wear my clothes?"
"So that even when you were asleep, I could still be surrounded by you." Emily answered so easily. Gaining blush from the younger.
Emily would've loved to stay in that moment, it was simple and the start of something new, but when Y/n stood there in nothing but lace panties, it was hard to stay there.
"I could be surrounded by you forever," Emily smirked before pushing the other back onto the bed. Not waiting to dive to where they both wanted her. She took a deep breath in, "you smell so sweet, do you taste this sweet?"
Y/n let out a giggle, "you could find out." She propped herself up a bit on her elbows. Finally seeing Emily between her legs, growing impossibly wetter at the sight.
Maybe it was the lighting, but the sparkle in Emily's brown eyes was enough to say she planned to. She littered a few more kisses, leading Y/n to believe that there was more teasing, but with the first swipe of her tongue, both knew how this was going to end.
It was like an instant addiction. One Emily would never get enough of and wouldn't want to try and quit. And maybe she got a little out of hand when she tore the panties right off. Causing a surprised gasp to echo in the room as she dived right back in.
The room being filled with Y/n cursing, panting, moaning, and lewd Emily's that slipped from her mouth. It had to be a crime how good she was.
"Mm..fuck Emily," her name came out broken on Y/n's tongue. Her head rolling into the comforter under her. Emily swirled around her clit, moving so smoothly.
The tightening in her stomach grew suddenly. But right as she thought she would find a release, Emily wasn't working her magic anymore. Instead, she watched as Y/n clenched around nothing before meeting her eyes. "I told you. And with how addicting you are bunny? God we're gonna have a fun time," she smirked. Her hands massaging at the pillowy thighs. "You're beautiful you know that? Anybody would be lucky to have you."
Her hands slid up to her waist. Squeezing it in her hands and humming. "You look amazing in everything as well. It would take an entire country to make you look bad. But even then, you'd still be the most beautiful." She kissed all over her stomach.
Kissing up between her boobs. Where she took notice of how ragged her breathing was. "To be able to share these moments with you, baby. I promise to never let you go. I'll make sure you're safe everyday."
Her lips pressed against her neck. Sinking into the already bruised skin and sucking. Listening to the moan. They drove her into a different dimension, she would swear on that.
Y/n choked on a gasp as two fingers slid into her, catching her once again by surprise. The burn of being stretched was tedious, but it melted into pure pleasure. "You..." she couldn't think as Emily moved her hand. Her mind drawing to a blank as her palm hit her clit as it went.
"Yes baby?"
"You...mmmph...do you mean it?"
"Every word."
Tears pricked in the corner of Y/n's eyes as the feeling drew her close again. She prayed her legs not to give her away, but they work on their own for Emily. It seems all of Y/n worked against her. They began to shake, trying to close around her hand and keep it there, but with Emily in between, it was useless.
"Please," Y/n huffed. Her back arching up off the cover. And when she was just one more thrust away, Emily was gone again. "You so suck." She panted while looking up at the white ceiling.
"Oh, is someone upset they didn't get their way?" Emily faked a pout. Leaning in close and placing a chaste kiss to her lips. "I've told you my plan."
"The working me up?! If that's the case I want to redo my reward." Y/n sat up quickly and crossed her arms.
"Oh yeah?" Emily laughed a bit, "and what is it you want now? Even if you change it all now, you're still all worked up and no release. Now who do you think is gonna give it to you?"
Y/n blinked a few times, really thinking it over. Emily was right. She was worked up twice and knew it wouldn't be the same now that she's had Emily. She pondered a little more before crossing her arms and looking away.
"Are you gonna keep pouting?" Emily tilted her head to the side. Not getting Y/n to look at her. She knew what the other was wanting, it was obvious. "You are one princess you know that?"
Y/n smirked over her shoulder. "I told you I was, remember? Right after you called me a pervert?"
"You gonna hold that over my head?"
"Till you're on your knees begging me, I will sit here and look away." Y/n looked away again. Letting the choice be up to Emily now.
And man did Emily enjoy this more than she thought. The brattiness wasn't over done and Y/n knew what she deserved. She still held more control than she let on. Emily could feel herself give in almost instantly too, but she held down for a few seconds.
Then, she pulled Y/n to the end of the bed and got down in front of her. Hands traveling up her legs and wrapping them around her own head. Emily now sat with her head between Y/n's legs and looking up to her.
She placed caring kisses to the thighs next to her. "Is this better?" Emily glanced through her lashes, meeting the others eyes.
"You're not begging." She had spoke down to her, a devious smirk pulling at her lip. "Why should I let you?"
"That's how you play?" A brief nod. A beat of silence. And a silent sigh of defeat. "Please bunny, I need to taste you again. You've denied me too long. Please, please, please, I need you." Her humorus tone disappears as as she spoke, turning into true desperation as she could smell the effect of her words.
Her hands held her thighs, her grip tightening. Y/n wasn't budging yet. She was holding out on her self just to watch Emily fall apart. "Y/n. Please. I can't wait long. Please."
Y/n gave a look, tilting her nose into the air a bit to look down. Opening her legs to give Emily access and wearing a winning smile. "That's so much better," her tone was cockier than ever. Even her moan as Emily took her first swipe again.
And even for the second time, Y/n still tasted just as addicting. She sounded even angelic with her sinful noises. Everything about her lured Emily further in. Almost loosing herself in the moment. Her mind could think of nothing other than the beauty on the bed.
"God, Y/n...." she hummed lowly. "You're just so delicious. So beautiful. So desirable." Her tongue picked up. Her thoughts of wanting to see the other fall apart becoming heavy. "Just like that baby."
Y/n gasped once more before her breath hitched in her throat. The knot in her stomach snapping without much warning. Her hand flew down to Emily's hair, nails scratching at her scalp as she rode out her high. Profanities running from her like no tomorrow.
Emily once again littered her kisses once more before coming up. Placing a kiss to Y/n's plush lips, but following as it turned into a soft make out.
"Fuck Emily." Y/n laughed. She couldn't help but to think of the moment that just happened. "You definitely had fantasies."
The silver fox shook her head with a smile, laying down and pulling the other into her. "You know how to lure someone in, it's hard not to think of you." She shrugged off her truth. "We still have the rest of the day....can I take you to dinner?"
"Aww, was I not fulfilling for you?" She joked one more time before kissing Emily. "I would very much like dinner with you. But....it looks like I was in a fight and lost..."
Emily sat up and looked down at the other. Scanning over the amount of love bruises that covered her. "That does seem like an issue, you don't have any makeup?" A shake of the head. "Well then I guess we're going on a run to get you makeup and something to cook for the night."
"We're gonna cook? Didn't you almost give someone food poising last time you cooked?" Y/n loved how the idea sounded, she was thrilled. "What'd you have in mind anyways?"
Emily let a nasty smirk take over again, and Y/n could hear the thoughts and laughed. "Something easy. Maybe pasta? Then after....who knows what'll be for desert."
The younger let out another laugh at the implied. "Fine, but I'll make it a deal. We make a video while cooking, and then I'm all yours again. But the video has to get at least 100 likes by the time we finish."
"And if it doesn't?"
Y/n let her smile grow even more, "then you get nothing."
"What?!"
A shrug was her answer, "I don't make the rules." She sighed, glancing to her bathroom. "I could go for a shower, couldn't you?"
Emily looked over to the bathroom as well, taking a second to process what was being implied. "I could, I really could!" The thought to see the woman in her arm dripping with water and soap worked her up all over again.
~
Monday had came again, and the team was back in the bullpen. Enjoying the paper work to the best they could.
Penelope however was walking at a dramatic pace to find Y/n. Eager to know about this weekend that was all over TikTok now. And she came in hot with her phone already being opened. "Y/n! Care to explain?" She shoved the phone in.
Y/n watched the cooking video, smiling at the time they had. "We spent our Saturday together. And maybe our Sunday too but that's all."
Tara laughed enough to let everyone know she was listening. "Cooking doesn't leave a mark on your neck though." She pointed out the hickey right below her ear.
The side eye she received was vicious, "I burnt myself curling my hair."
"Yeah ok," Emily walked in with a knowing smile.
Tara leaned over to JJ, "bet the curling iron was that Prentiss brand."
"All the way up to it seems," the blonde fed the joke. "And what did you cook?"
Y/n sighed, feigning hurt," you don't even follow my account? You've made like a gazillion appearances."
JJ shook her head, "I don't have TikTok. But let me guess, there was a deal within that video that only you two know about?"
Emily came back with her coffee in hand, and another for Y/n. "She didn't win."
Penelope had been standing there shock about how simple they made it seem. "So! What I'm getting is! You two?"
Emily and Y/n shared a secret conversation. Both letting an infectious smile appear, "yeah, us two." They said in union. Too busy getting lost within each other to listen to the blonde jump for joy.
108 notes · View notes
vanishingstarrs · 2 days
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eijiro kirishima x reader, secret admirer trope, soft vibes, sfw
( do u guys prefer these drabbles to be longer ? shorter ? split into multiple parts ?? pls feel free to let me know !! <3 )
For weeks all you could think about were the little notes folded up into hearts that you’d been finding in your locker every day.
The first one appeared over a month ago and stated: you look badass in your new costume.
You’d been pretty insecure when submitting in the new design for your hero suit and despite all your friends encouragement you still felt a bit out of place among the rest of your classmates, who always looked confident and powerful in theirs.
You weren’t expecting anything, but the next day another fell out when you went to grab a textbook in between classes and it said— that new move was impressive, your improvement and dedication amazes me each day.
And the next day.
have a great day, gorgeous
And the next.
you were awesome in that training exercise
And more.
that test was rough, hope you did better than i did— your concentrating face is cute btw <3
you kicked bakugo’s ass today (and looked hot doing it), it was great!
you’re so strong and pretty
They continued every day to the point where you had finally called an emergency meeting with your friends, you laid back on Momo’s luxurious bed with a sigh,“I have no clue, who could it be? It has got to be someone in our class with the way they know so much, but…”
“But…?” Kyouka urged you on.
Another sigh left your lips, and you couldn’t help scrunch up your face as you looked at your friends,“None of the boys in our class seem to give off secret admirer potential, what if it’s just some sick prank one of them is doing?”
“For that long?” Momo questioned before shaking her head,“I don’t know, not even our guys seem capable of something so cruel.”
“Maybe you just haven’t given the right one the chance to step up?” Ochako offered up.
“I mean what are her options?” Mina snorted, she held a list of all the guys in their class.
You guys had gone through and already crossed off a couple that were definite no’s, people like Mineta, Sero, and Kaminari who were self proclaimed “ladies men”. You considered that it might be one of the quieter boys, maybe Kirishima or Todoroki, even Ojiro.
You had reassured Ochako that Midoriya wasn’t even a possibility, considering the boy was loud and open about his admiration for others and could tell she was relieved when you did.
You shrugged, having gone over any interactions with the boys in your class multiple times. “I don’t know, I’m not really close with any of them… I mean I sit next to Kaminari and Kirishima so I guess they’re my friends? But Kaminari has eyes on a new girl every day and I could swear Kirishima had told me about…”
“Who?!” All four girls sat up impatiently.
“No one.” You smirked,“I don’t spill your guys’ private conversations.”
“Boooo!” Toru threw a crumbled up piece of paper at you.
You opened up your latest two notes.
golden hour looks breathtaking on you
you’ve officially taken up a permanent residence in my mind, i think of you all day long…
“Wait!” Jirou stood up suddenly, snatching one note along with her as she began digging around in her backpack.
“Hey!” You pouted, but she shushed you.
“I know how we’ll solve this mystery.” She pulled out a notebook from class.
“How?!” Ochako asked excitedly.
You almost didn’t want to know, what if you confronted the person and it went awry?
“Okay, so last week I asked Shouji to borrow some notes for a lecture I wasn’t really listening to and look!”
All five of you leaned forward to look at the notebook and the messy scrawl on the page.
“His penmanship is quite poor.” Momo pointed out and you silently agreed.
Jirou rolled her eyes,“Not why I’m showing you guys this, what I’m getting at is that we can just ask all the boys to write something down and compare their handwriting to the notes!”
“Genius!” Mina shot up,“I was just thinking I was really hungry, we could tell them we’re ordering some takeout and have each individually write out if they want anything.”
“Perfect, we should split up and do it quick.” Ochako agreed.
Your heartbeat picked up and you anxiously wrung your hands,“Okay, but also can we actually order food? I eat when I’m nervous and right now I’m a wreck. I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Girl, you got this!” Mina turned to you with a big, encouraging smile and you returned it, albeit not as bright as hers. “Let’s find this guy!”
The group quickly agreed and everyone split up to take the class’s requests for dinner.
By the time you all met up in Momo’s room again, you were tense. You each had a note and several options to compare from, a few were easy to immediately knock off. You continued going down your list until you gasped, unable to help yourself as you met the gazes of your friends.
“What?!” Mina’s eyes bulged.
You swallowed,“I know who it is.”
Your friends all eyed the pieces of paper with matching handwriting and by the next day had convinced you to go up to the boy. You could feel their stares on you as you called out his name and beckoned him into the hall during homeroom period, asking if you could get his advice on something. You took a deep breath as you led him to a secluded window further down the hallway, mentally preparing yourself for denial.
“So what’s up?” He didn’t hesitate to follow you and ask,“You okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You shrugged,“I guess I’ve just been a little… anxious, I guess? Good anxious, but still anxious nonetheless. You see, I’ve been getting these notes in my locker ever since day but there’s no name attached to them so it’s just a little weird. I’ve been trying to figure out who it is, racking my brain like crazy.”
“Can I see one?” Kirishima asked.
“Sure, here’s today’s.” You handed him over the crisply folded sheet of notebook paper, one you could now recognize and knew was getting thinner by the pages being ripped out daily. The note read: i wish i could tell you who i am.
You could see him gulp and leaped to take your chance.
“To be honest, I’d just wanna thank the person. I’ve been struggling with some confidence issues lately and their notes every day have really been keeping my spirits up.” You turned toward the window and away from him with a sigh,“They must not think they’re brave enough to tell me, but they shouldn’t be scared of—”
“Y/N…”
You turned around immediately, eyes widening at the fact that he’d used your first name. Kirishima was standing pin straight, holding the note tight in one hand and you almost felt bad for pushing him… but you had to know if your suspicions were correct. Besides, you hadn’t been lying. You really did want to thank him for always making you smile every day.
“It’s… I wrote the notes, I’m the one who’s been sneaking them into your locker every day.” He bowed slightly,“I apologize for not being man enough to sign my name or just say all these things to your face, but I wasn’t sure of how you’d react or what you would think of me.”
“Eijiro.”
Now it was his turn to be surprised, eyebrows raised as he straightened himself up.
You smiled,“I knew it was you.”
“How…?”
You shrugged, smiling slightly,“A lady never reveals her secrets.”
This made him laugh.
“I’m sorry that I pushed you to confess, I just wanted to know if I was right and I’m glad that I was, glad that you were the one, that is.” You smiled at him,“Your notes are very sweet and I’ve enjoyed having them every day.”
As the bell rung and your classmates started filing out of class you realized your time had run out, you smiled at your friends who were giving you questioning looks. You motioned with your hand for them to move along, smiling bigger when Kirishima turned around to find them gone.
You brought his attention back to you when you spoke again,“Anyway, thanks again. I should get going, I’ve got to get to math and start studying, I’ve got a makeup coming up since I didn’t do all that great on the last exam.”
He nodded, seemingly speechless.
You couldn’t really wait for a response regardless as you rushed to pack up your things and head to your next class before the final bell rung.
You did your best to focus on the extra lessons your teacher was nice enough to give for students who’d been confused about the last test, but all you could do with think about Kirishima and whether he’d stop leaving his notes now that you knew it was him. You somehow managed to avoid him for the rest of the day, and when your friends asked about it all you could do was shrug. Nothing happened, you would say, and it was true.
Nothing happened.
Until the next day, that was.
You were headed to your locker a little earlier than usual, eager to get back to your studies when several notes fell out of your locker. Your face heated up as you rushed to pick them all up, opening the first one carefully.
Only a single word was written on the sheet of paper and you worked quickly in order to unfold the remains slips, reading through it several times just to make sure you weren’t imagining it. It read:
will
you
go
out
with
me?
— eijiro
You shut the locker, forgetting all about your textbook in favor of trying to find him instead. Which was made extremely easy because when you turned around, there he stood.
Eijiro Kirishima.
He held a bouquet of flowers in his arms, and you spotted a plushie of your favorite character in the center of the arrangement. You thought his eye might’ve twitched nervously as he gave you his best smile, you quickly returned it.
“I was just coming to find you.”
“You found me.” He chuckled as he took a few steps closer,“Y/N, would you please do me the honor of going out on a date with me?— it doesn’t have to be today, I know you signed up for the makeup exam in math tomorrow, and actually! If you’d like, that is, I can help you study. I think I know the material well now, and I guess what I’m trying to say is I’d love nothing more than to have the chance to be the man you deserve.”
“One condition.” You smiled, knowing there was no way you would’ve ever said no.
“Anything!” He agreed immediately.
You held up the unfolded hearts he always wrote his notes on,“I still get these every now and then, nonnegotiable, they really make my day.”
Eijiro’s cheeks went as red as his hair as he grinned big, nodding,“Every day.”
“Then yes, I would love to go on a date with you.” You accepted the bouquet he was holding out to you before leaning up slightly and placing a kiss on his cheek,“It’s beautiful, Eijiro, thank you.”
“Anything for you, princess.”
Now you were the one blushing, he’d used a nickname and you definitely liked it.
“You’re cute when you blush.” He complimented.
“Oh my god.” You tried to hide your face in the flowers, unable to stop the large smile from taking over your face.
He was quick to take them back out of your hands, as well as grabbing your book bag from you,“Better get used to it, princess, the notes were just a placeholder until I was able to man up enough to confess, but not a day will go by without a compliment from me, I can promise you that. And no more lugging around heavy textbooks when I’m here either.”
“Thank you, Eijiro.” You felt the blush move higher, your ears feeling warm now too.
“So, study date tonight?”
He’d never admit it, but he’d stayed up late last night going over the necessary chapters in order to be able to help you with your upcoming test. In truth, he had no clue how he passed over you, but he’d make sure it never happened again.
You took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as you agreed,“Definitely.”
This time, he was the one to place a kiss onto your cheek as he led the way to homeroom, smiling— beautifully and unabashedly.
Princess treatment?
You could definitely get used to that.
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trans-xingqiu · 2 years
Text
I've been listening to welcome to night vale for a week now and i've gotta say my life? I feel so much better about my life funky chefs
i am being filled with more positivity and happiness and smiling and laughter and love. I jus cried out of happiness for the very first time in my life over this podcast- this experience of being a dear listener and hearing comforting words every night and thinking on them, mulling them over and accepting them. It's been a week but i've gained two very valuable life lessons from it, which is
- to let the past be, since it won't be something you can change and regretting what could have been is relatively futile in retrospect;
- some things will seem as if they're all that matters at the time, but it might be a good idea to take a step back and see if it really is, and decide where to go from there
It's also really exciting to know that there's still SO much for me to learn from this series and i'm really glad i picked this up.
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kamitv · 1 month
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Thinking about Choso who…
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Loves any and all sorts of attention from you, even when you’re upset with him.
He’d love the way you frown at him or how your brows tense, finding you nothing more than cute— especially if you’re shorter than him, that just makes it even more amusing to him.
And if you happen to be taller than he’s lowkey ready to get down on his knees and apologize by putting his head in between your legs, even if you’re the one in the wrong.
Enjoys being seen out in public with you.
PDA is probably one of his favorite things, especially when he notices someone looking at you too long.
There’d be a time where a little boy or girl compliments you and suddenly he’s jealous even though it’s just a harmless child that’s admiring you.
If you had an ex that won’t leave you alone, would make it his mission to send him (consented) videos of you cumming on his cock.
Nine times out of ten, you’re on top of him, riding him til’ his eyes are to the back of his skull and he can’t stop himself from groaning. Asking you things like, “You’ ever ride your ex this fuckin’ good?” To which you’d respond with a quiet whine of no.
And next he’s got you bent over for him, hips snapping forward into you, heavy balls smacking against you with his ever thrust, and thick cock filling you up perfectly. All as he’s still mocking your ex, “He never fucked you this good, huh?” “Probably not, right?” “Oh shit, you can’t talk too well, can ya’?” “That feel good baby? Hm? Go ahead ‘nd tell the camera who’s fuckin’ you to tears.”
Loves showering you in compliments.
“You look so pretty in that, kinda like a princess.”
“I love your eyes, never stop lookin’ at me please.”
“You’re so beautiful.”
“I’m the luckiest man in the world, aren’t I?”
“You’re so cute, baby.”
Could get off on your smell alone.
It’s perverted, yes, but sometimes he gets really needy for you. He’d shove his face into your pillow, smelling a mixture of your perfume and last used soap and using that to get off— fisting his cock desperately as each whiff of your scent makes his thoughts blur together and his body twitch.
Would do anything you ask of him.
He doesn’t care what it is, as soon as you have that requesting tone in your voice, the word yes is rolling off of his tongue without second thought.
Who’s not the richest man in the world but works hard just to spoil you.
Choso loves giving you gifts. The way your eyes light up and a beautiful smile plasters across your face, it makes his heart throb in desire and he can’t help but have the urge to give you more and more.
He’d give you the world if he could.
Shuts you up by telling you to get down on your knees.
He doesn’t get mad at you often but when the argument gets to a certain point and he can tell you’re being a brat on purpose, he’s punishing you by fucking your throat.
His cock would be stretching your throat open too, filling your mouth up with cum after a few minutes because he still can’t always last too long with you— you’re still as pretty as ever on your knees with tears running down your face and a mouth full of his cock, the sight makes him fold every time and suddenly he can’t even remember what he was upset with you for.
Apologies to you by drowning in between your legs for hours.
Literal hours too. He doesn’t care if you told him you forgive him a thousand times already, once he’s down there it’s hard for him to get up. His jaw could lock while he’s nose deep into your pussy and he wouldn’t care, your taste is too addicting.
Then there’s the way you moan and whine out his name, begging him to give you a break— yet it only makes him more eager to get you off. Even if you squirt on his face, he won’t care, if anything he’s begging you to do it again. Groaning a simple, “Gimme another one, princess. Please?”
Blushes when you compliment him.
He’s not used to it so whenever you call him handsome, his ears are turning red and he’s mumbling out a cute thank you in response.
You once praised him and called him a good boy and he moaned, begging you to call him that again and again. It made his cock so unbelievably hard that he was aroused for practically the rest of the night.
Another time you said you were proud of him and he started showering you in kisses and telling you that he’s only doing good because he has you.
Brags & yaps about you whenever you’re the topic of conversation.
The second your name is said by someone nearby, his mouth is on auto-response. He’ll tell people how hard working snd perfect you are, how he doesn’t really deserve you but he’s so happy to have you as his lover.
Calls you specific pet names.
Baby, princess, love— they all slip out of his mouth before he even realizes he’s saying it.
If you told him you liked being called “mama, mamas, or ma” he’d settle on calling you ma.
Sometimes he just calls you his. His girlfriend, his partner, his wife. His anything and or everything.
In the rare case that he’s degrading you because you’ve asked him to— he’s calling you a slut. His slut, a dirty slut, pretty slut, his good slut, doesn’t matter.
Loves you more than he loves himself.
He’d cherish you like no other. Every kiss from his is filled with love and every time his eyes meet your face, his pupils dilate.
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A/N: In honor of my lover Choso. Please come home, the kids miss you baby. :( Gege Akutami when I get my goddamn hands on you its a wrap.
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fangisms · 8 months
Note
hiii i loved „spring breaks loose”!!🤍 could i request another something for theodore, where the reader is quite bubbly and loves talking and he, the quiet guy he is, just likes to listen? and maybe the reader is worried that she talks too much and it could be annoying to him but he’s just so in love that he’s obsessed with all her rabling😭😭 sorry if thats too specific
darling socialite
A/N: um i love this because if someone let me chat their ear off, i would fall in love. i love a chatter and i love a listener 🩷 gif creds: @perfectlyfuckingcivils
Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader
Summary: You are talkative as all hell, and Theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener. 1.3k words
Warnings: i be cursing, fluff, mild self-consciousness, two dummies in LOVE, mattheo being a perv (boy moment), kissing…, pansy being a slight bitch (lovingly)
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Everyday, you look forward to telling Theo anything and everything. Sometimes, you'll get so excited to tell him something that you'll jot it down on the nearest surface. Most of the time, that surface is your hand. Who can blame you; you can't resist the gory details.
Everyday, Theo looks forward to hearing anything and everything from you. You're his favorite news source, his sweetest messenger, his darling socialite, and he is your devoted subscriber. He's worried one day you'll run out of things to tell him, but according to the ink splotches across your skin, there's a slim chance that'll happen.
"Hi, teddy!" you chirp, and he turns to welcome you into the seat beside him. "You will not believe what I saw in the courtyard on my way here: a willow tit!"
Mattheo chokes on a gulp of juice, sputtering in his seat and looking over at you. "Pardon?"
"Don't be crude, Matty. I'm talking about birds."
"Yeah, I got that, I just never realized you’re playing for the other team—"
"Mattheo!" you holler, glaring at him in utter disbelief, "you complete idiot! Birds, as in real birds. As in those things that fly around and chirp and eat berries!"
"Let me get this straight, we're not talking about some bird's tits? Suddenly, I'm uninterested," he says, earning a pointed glare from Theo.
"Anyway," you say, rolling your eyes and facing Theo, "You hardly see them anymore, they're very rare, but I saw one, and it was the cutest creature I've ever seen on campus! It was so round, I could have died. He must've liked all the rain we got over the weekend. I hope he survives the winter and has lots of little tit babies in the spring!"
Theo could not be more head over heels for you while you babble about round tits and babies. He thinks if he ever opens his mouth to respond, he’ll screw it up in an instant. Thank Merlin, he's naturally quiet and content to listen to you all day. And thank Merlin, you never ask for anything more from him.
If only you knew how much he truly adores you and your ramblings. He holds your company in his highest regard and considers every time you choose him a blessing.
You never think too much of Theo's tight-lippedness. You figure if he was completely sick of it, he'd just get up and walk away. Or maybe that's not like him, and maybe you are a bother.
It doesn't help when Pansy skips up to you in the hall and says, "I'm really impressed you're able to hold Theo's attention as long as you do."
"What are you talking about, P?" you say.
"Well... don't you ever worry he's, like... bored with you? I mean, when was the last time he actually contributed to your 'conversations'. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, you know?" —she shrugs it off like it's not an unforgivable curse to the gut—"If I were you, I'd find a more attentive playmate. You can always talk to me!"
"Thanks, Pansy," you say.
"Just looking out for a friend! See ya!"
You nod and wait by the bottom of the stairs as she hops her way up. You didn't think you were getting your hopes up, necessarily. You thought Theo was just a good listener. And sure, he's not super responsive, but he's just shy. That's not his fault.
There's a rapping of knuckles at the door, and Mattheo hurdles his bed and reaches for the knob.
"Why, good evening, dearest birdwatcher"—Theo perks up from where he's rifling through his trunk.
"I could say the same to you, perv," you tease, "Is Theo around? I need—"
"To talk to him? Figures. He's just hiding his softcore stash—"
"Shut up!" Theo hollers, popping up and hurrying to the door, a little flushed to find you looking at him, "he's just joking."
Mattheo chuckles, "No, he's right, Theo would never have so much fun"—he dodges the jab to his side—"Alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds to your tits and whatnot. Try not to make too much noise, we have downstairs neighbors." He winks and makes his way down the boys dormitories stairwell.
And suddenly, Theo can't remember the last time he was truly alone with you. No onlookers or eavesdroppers, no Pansy and no Mattheo. Just the two of you. His sweaty palms and your rapid heartbeat.
"I need to ask you something," you finally blurt. He looked so nervous you thought he might throw up over the railing, so you put him out of his misery before he has the chance.
"Yes, yeah, anything," he huffs.
"Well," you say, "I was thinking—just... ruminating, really, because it was suggested that I bore you with my chattiness"—you cross your arms over your chest and look to the floor—"and not that I'm begging for pity or even a response, I just wanted to know how you feel because I realized maybe I don't ask about you enough. You know, like I'm always worried about me, or something, but I do worry about you, too! I just wasn't sure if that's something—if you maybe wanted to talk about it more. Because I can be a good listener! I'd be happy to hear whatever you have to say!"
Theo leans his shoulder against the doorframe, adjusting the bottom of his sweater as it clings to his hips. How could he let you believe you're too much for him. How could he let you believe yourself to be some kind of social burden to him. All because he'd much rather listen to you than contribute his own two cents.
"See! Merlin, even now, I've just talked your ear off while trying to apologize for constantly talking your ear off! And I haven't even apologized, yet! I'm so sorry, Theo, I know it's a problem, and I didn't mean to take advantage of your politeness."
You scuff your sole on the landing with a whine, and he leans to the side to watch you look over the edge. It's so quiet for a moment, he can hear your soft breathing if he focuses on it.
"It's not a problem," Theo says. You look over, lips parted at the smug look on his face. "And if I was the one who suggested otherwise, I couldn't be more apologetic."
It makes you smile. He's just said two very thoughtful things to you. Out loud. To your face. You could crumble.
"No! No, teddy, it wasn't you, it was... doesn't matter. You really don't mind?"
He shakes his head, a little amused, honestly. How could he mind? You’re the greatest thing since dark chocolate, and he’d still give that up. You’d go just as well with his afternoon tea.
“Well, then,” you huff, warmer under his gaze, determined to get this damned apology across.
“Alright,” Theo says. Apology accepted. Apology not even necessary. But still accepted.
“Okay. But next time you catch me rambling, you better just shut me up! Tell me to ‘shush’ or something! It’s a problem, and I give you full permission to—”
He kisses you. He leans down, smug with his fingers under your chin, and he kisses you! Shuts you right up like you’re still some gullible first year completely wooed by his boyish charms! Oh, but he’s kissing you very sweetly. And when your knees go a tad wobbly, he rushes to cradle your elbow.
“Like that?” he says.
“That’s no way to treat a lady, Theodore. You should be completely ashamed of yourself for ever thinkin—”
He kisses you again. More sure and much quicker. Like a reflex. A knee jerk reaction without the kneeing or the jerking. Just his stupidly soft lips.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “that works… but you can’t just kiss me every time you want to shut me up.”
“No”—he pecks your lips, fingers gentle at your cheek—“I plan on kissing you much more often than that.”
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wavesmp3 · 25 days
Text
young & stupid
yoon jeonghan x reader (gender neutral)
you think yoon jeonghan is crazy when he asks if you'll pretend to date him, but luckily for him you're just young and dumb enough to agree.
genre: university + fake dating au word count: 14k warnings: alcohol, profanity, some explicit content, mentions of sex, and a very american writer who says soccer instead of football a/n: posted an unfinished version of this like 4 years ago and randomly decided one day a couple weeks ago to finish it. this is the most indulgent fic i have ever written. pls enjoy my birthday gift to myself lolol
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Music bursts from every corner of the run-down frat house, chasing after you no matter where you run to escape it. Bodies endlessly spill in from the patio and front entrance, a never ending revolving door of college kids just like yourself looking for some kind of release after a long week of… well, college. But unlike most times you’ve paid a visit to Soonyoung’s frat house on a Friday night, tonight you’ve already decided that you are not going to be having fun at this party.
Soonyoung begged you to come, bribing your appearance with a promise to study with you for the next math quiz. Of course the first thing he does after walking into the house with you is ditch you. But even that, you deal with. You find some friends among the crowd, acquaint yourself with some beer, and almost start to have fun egging on a brewing dance battle. But all that ends the second you turn a corner too fast and are met with a full cup of bright red jungle juice all over your white shirt.
So now, upstairs in a bathroom Soonyoung let you in to, desperately trying to wash out the stains, you make a stubborn decision to not make another appearance at a frat party for the rest of the semester which you’re positive you’ll break by the time midterms are up.
But for now, helplessly staring at your reflection in the dirty mirror, you arrive to the conclusion that this damn jungle juice stain is not coming out. You exit the bathroom into the adjoining room and start grabbing your stuff to walk home.
“Who the fuck are you?” You jump at the voice that’s joined you in the room. You hadn’t even noticed anyone entering. You stare at the figure, mouth open. “How’d you get into my room?”
“Oh my gosh, so sorry,” you apologize in a hurried voice, packing your things up impossibly faster. “Soonyoung let me in. It was just supposed to be a quick thing–Wait no, that makes it sound like we were hooking up. Which we definitely were not. I can promise you that much, lol, not Soonyoung. But no, I just needed the bathroom. Cause this dude and his jungle juice, and…” you look down at your shirt. “Anyways, I was about to go home. I didn’t even–”
“Okay, wait, slow down.” The guy cuts you off. “You know Soonyoung.”
You nod. “Uh, yeah, we’re friends.”
He steps closer, narrowing his eyes at you, and for a moment you think the guy looks a little bit familiar. “And you’re not a stalker?”
This time you squint, jutting your head forward. “A stalker?” He stares at you unwavering. You scoff. “Um. No. Of course not.”
“Oh, okay, good.” He exhales, his previous demeanor falling entirely. “Well, in that case, let me help.” He walks towards one of the dressers, pulling the drawer open to rummage through it.
“No. That’s okay. You don’t have to–”
“Let me. Plus,” he gestures towards the general direction of your shirt without looking up from the drawer, “that can’t be comfortable. And it definitely isn’t flattering.”
You’re too stunned to say anything back. You’re not sure how you’d respond anyways to what you think counts as an insult from the dude who’s also helping you. You study him instead. You’ve definitely seen him around before, but you’re not entirely sure where or when because you probably would’ve remembered someone as attractive as him. He’s tall, soft-faced with longer hair that cuts off right under his ears, and damn is he attractive. In an obvious—in your face, weak in the knees, god this man is beautiful—kind of way. Not that you notice.
“Here.” He throws a tshirt your way, and you catch it between your arms. You both stare at each for a long moment, until he jumps on his heels a little as if he’s suddenly remembered something. “My bad, I’ll turn around.”
You stare unamused at his backside. He really doesn’t think you’re going to change with him in the room does he?
And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he says: “Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He looks over his shoulder with a crooked, mischievous smile. “I mean unless you want me to.” Your stomach throws itself out the window.
You scoff. “I’ll just change in the bathroom.” You fully expect the guy to be gone by the time you exit the bathroom, but instead he’s still there, sitting at the edge of the bed on his phone.
You clear your throat. “Thanks for the shirt.”
“Oh, yeah,” he looks up from his phone and takes you in. You swear his mouth twitches into a half smile. “It’s no big deal.
You let out an awkward half laugh, half sigh. “So, I’ll get this shirt back to you somehow. Thanks again.”
He nods, still staring at the air around your body with that sickeningly charming half smile. You turn for the door.
“Wait!” You pause, facing the boy again who is now standing up, arm stretched out towards you. He drops it at once like it was never supposed to be there. “Are you going back to the party?”
You actually laugh at that. “God, no. I’m going home.”
“Oh.” He tilts his head, and then opens and closes his mouth as if the words keep getting lost in the back of his throat. You try not to think too hard about how endearing the action is. “I can give you a ride if you want.”
You shake your head quickly. “No, that’s alright. I don’t live that far.” You live on the opposite side of campus.
He grabs a set of keys off his desk. “Let me. I wanna get out of this party too. But sadly,” he motions to the room you’re both standing in, then leans towards you a little, “I live here.”
And you know you should refuse. You know there is nothing sensical about letting this stranger, whose name you don’t even know, take you home. But there’s something about his smile and the tufts of hair falling over his forehead, something about the way he gave you his shirt that makes you say yes against your better judgment.
It turns out, leaving the party with the mysteriously nice guy, who’s conveniently hot (again, not that you’re looking), is much harder than it looks. The only plus side to getting bombarded with people wanting to talk to him, is that you learn his name: Jeonghan. And it hits you then, of course you’ve seen him around before. Well, maybe not him, but you’ve definitely seen his picture. His face is plastered over all of the university’s promotional material. Half the school has a crush on Jeonghan, the star soccer player. Unfortunately for you and your apparently impossible wish to go home, it also appears that half the school is at this party and fueled with liquid confidence.
“Hey Jeonghan,” one person in particular slurs, appearing in front of you and him magically. Yeah, you think, if I were him I’d want to get out of this party too. Then as if the stranger has come to their senses, they jump back and clasp their hands over their mouth. A blush paints itself all over their face. “So sorry. I must’ve tripped or something…” they laugh awkwardly. Jeonghan does too. You look over at him and find that he looks incredibly uncomfortable.
“It’s fine,” he tells them, holding his hands up, “I gotta go. See you around though.” And Jeonghan’s turning on his heel ready to dash for the door.
“Wait a second!” The person calls, grabbing Jeonghan’s arm before he can slip out of the house. He turns back around begrudgingly. “I was uh I was sort of wondering if you’d like to maybe go out or something—“
You watch them ask out Jeonghan on a date, and well, it’s sort of cute. The stranger clearly harbors a massive crush on Jeonghan. They’re not being rude or pushy, and honestly, even after accounting for the alcohol, they’re more confident and bold than you’d be. You find yourself wanting to congratulate them. But then, with another look at Jeonghan’s face, you feel a burst of pity. You know that look. Jeonghan is going to turn them down.
“I, uh, I’m really flattered but I…” Jeonghan stutters through his words, shooting you a glance asking for help. You just shrug. Suddenly his smirk reappears. He grabs your hand, pulling you to his slide and lifting your joined hands up like a trophy. “I’m actually with them.”
Your teeth clench immediately to keep your mouth from falling open. You stare at Jeonghan, eyes screaming.
“Oh sorry,” the person looks between the two of you, “I didn’t know.”
You stare at Jeonghan, waiting for him to say something and failing to find any words for yourself. But instead of continuing his lie verbally, he decides to act it out even further, bringing your hands up to his lips and pressing the faintest kiss to your knuckle.
That fucker.
“Yeah,” you sigh, grasping at straws for something to say that sounds convincing with your one free hand. “It’s new.” You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand hard enough to know it has to have hurt and promptly drag him out of the house.
Once you’re in his car, safe from all his suitors. You round on him. “You couldn’t have just said no?”
“That was their third time asking me out.”
“And?”
“Turning down people is hard.” He whines, pushing the keys in the car and starting the ignition. “It was just easier to say we’re dating. Plus, you’re in my shirt so it already looks like we just had sex.”
“Or,” you gasp, exasperated, “it looks like I got jungle juice on my shirt, and you just gave me one to wear!”
He gives you a look. “Now, who would believe that?”
You have the sudden desire to dissolve into the seat.
“Anyways,” he says, putting the car in reverse, “where to?”
“East campus. The Austin Complex.”
He makes a triumphant noise while stopping at a red light. “It appears I’m not the only one that’s been telling lies tonight. Not that far you said.”
You gape at him. “My lie is not comparable to yours.”
“Actually I think it is.” He taps a finger to his chin. “In fact, I think it even makes us equal.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
He holds out his pinky as a peace offering. “I’m not moving until you agree.”
“Jeonghan, the light’s green.”
He glances at the green traffic light and proceeds to turn his hazards on in the middle of the fucking road all while keeping his pinky in the exact same spot.
“Are you crazy?”
“Most people don’t think so.”
“People will honk.”
“It’s 1 am.”
You say his name. He says yours. The light turns yellow, and you feel a rush of warmth.
“Fine.” You huff, joining your pinky with his. “We’re equal.”
He passes the light just as it turns red.
You haven’t seen Jeonghan since the entire incident. In truth, you’ve been so busy studying for your math quiz with Soonyoung that you almost hadn’t even thought about that night again. Emphasis on almost. However, when you get your score back the following week, the hours you spent studying appear to have been wasted. You slump into a bench outside the lecture hall, holding another barely passing grade to your chest.
And in the midst of your public wallowing, you feel a flick to your forehead.
You yelp and snap your eyes open to Jeonghan who stands before you snickering. “What was that for?”
“Payback.”
You say holding out your pinky as a reminder. “I thought we were even.” He shrugs, sporting a smirk that makes your stomach churn. It should be illegal for someone to look that good with a smirk.
“Excuse me?”
Fuck. Did you say that outloud?
“Nothing.” You quickly mutter, shaking your head. He invites himself to sit down next to you.
“Anyway, what’s wrong with you?”
You groan at the reminder. “Multi.”
“Multivariable calculus?” He asks to which you nod. “Who do you have?”
“Lubinsky.”
Defying all laws of reason and physics, Jeonghan perks up a bit. “Oh, I loved him.”
“His quizzes are impossible.”
“Yeah, but he’s funny.”
You scrunch your noise. “When did you even take multi? Aren’t you a business major?”
He tilts his head at you. “How do you know my major?” You might’ve asked Soonyoung about Jeonghan during one of your study sessions, but you definitely weren’t about to admit that now. Luckily for you, he continues without an answer. “I switched majors last year.”
“Then you must know how much I despise sketching in three axes.” You complain, throwing your head back against the wall.
“Just wait until you get to finding extrema.” Jeonghan hums. You want to shove your head through the damn wall just from the sound of it.
“May my grade rest in peace in that case,” you mutter, fishing through your bag. “Here’s your shirt back.”
He takes it. “So people kind of think we’re dating after the party.”
You can’t help it. You laugh at the look on his face. “Yeah, what did you expect when you said we were together?” He doesn’t say anything. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear the air.”
He furrows his brows at you. “What? No. That’s not what I mean. I…” he hesitates, scratching an area behind his neck. “Well, this past week has been surprisingly calm for me. Not a ton of confessions.” (“Oh, poor Jeonghan,” you murmur.) He looks at you hopefully, “So, I was thinking we keep up the charade.”
You make a noise. “Like fake dating?”
“Yes.”
“Haha, very funny.”
“No, seriously.” He says earnestly. You don’t say anything for a moment just staring at him flabbergasted. He softens, giving you a very soft, “please,” paired with big, brown, pleading eyes.
Goddamn it–those eyes.
You turn your body towards him. “What do I get out of it?”
“I’ll tutor you.” He says, pointing to your quiz grade. You flip the paper upside down. “I got an A in multi.”
“No one makes an A with Lubinsky.”
“Which is exactly why you want me as your tutor.”
You think about it for a moment longer, and, well…
Fake dating Yoon Jeonghan can’t be the worst thing in the world.
As you find out during your first session, Jeonghan is not what you’d call a ‘chill’ tutor. You’re both sitting in a far corner of the library, notes splayed out all over the table.
“Do it again.”
“Jeonghan please, we’ve been finding directional derivatives and unit normal vectors for so long now. Let’s take a break.”
He points to your worksheet. “One more.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
“I thought you wanted an A.”
“You know, a C isn’t sounding so bad right now.”
“Just do it.”
You groan and set up another integral.
To your complete and utter shock, you’re able to solve the problem all on your own. No clarifying questions to Jeonghan. No flipping through your lecture notes. Just you and the answer.
Jeonghan checks it over, eyes darting between your notebook and his laptop. He pauses for a minute, finger lingering by your boxed, final answer, before very quietly saying, “look at that.” He looks up to you, eyes widened and lips pursed together in a pleasant surprise.
You can barely contain yourself. “It’s right?”
“Well,” he draws out the word, sitting back in his chair and erasing his previous expression. “You still rounded wrong at this step—“
You throw your pencil down. “I’M RIGHT!”
Which unsurprisingly earns you a couple dirty looks from others.
He snickers at your excitement, offering you silent applause at the achievement.
“So can we take a break now?”
He looks at you for a long moment. You stare at him back, shaking your shoulders as if that would convince him of a break. He smiles. “Okay, fine, but only for ten minutes.”
You end up taking it on the roof of the library building, eating an assortment of snacks that you bought from the vending machine and Jeonghan brought from home.
“So, tell me,” you start, grabbing a chip from the bag, “the confessions can’t really be that bad, can they?”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean,” you sit up in your chair, stretching out your back, “enough for you to spend your Thursday afternoon doing all this?”
“Ah.” He exhales, sitting down further in his seat and popping a grape in his mouth. “Well, I like to teach.”
“And what about the whole fake dating ruse?”
He shrugs. “It’s easier than being the asshole that says no.”
You lean forward, squinting at him. “I don’t believe that.”
He cocks his head. “No?”
You shake yours. “No.”
“What about you then?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come I know nothing about you?”
“How come you haven’t asked?”
He swipes his tongue over his lips briefly, sizing your question up. Quietly, he says, “Touche.” Then leads forward in his seat and asks if you have an ex.
You steal a grape. “Not an official one.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that there was this guy before university, and we were…” you push the grape in your mouth, letting the burst of it give you time to find the right words. They never come. “We were something,” you settle on, “but he just ended up being more trouble than he was worth. Ask Soonyoung. He’s always hated the guy’s guts.”
“I can’t imagine Soonyoung hating anyone.” Jeonghan muses, pushing the tupperware of grapes towards you.
“Yeah, well, Soonyoung hated people who treated others like they were disposable.”
“So why’d you date him then?”
For a moment, you’re taken aback by the question. Replaying the words over and over in your mind looking for a hint of mockery or judgment. You don’t find any. Instead, you find his brows knitted together, and his lips pushed to the side of this mouth. The question is genuine. A wholehearted curiosity that feels so misplaced coming from the guy who has suitors falling at his feet at least once a day. It’s an innocent kind of curiosity that isn’t trying to pry; it’s only trying to understand. And that thought, the very idea that Jeonghan might actually be trying to get to know you, makes your entire body inexplicably shiver.
The curiosity in his voice bends over and touches yours. “What? You’ve never been young and stupid before?”
He shakes his head. “I was so focused on school and soccer when I was younger. I feel like I never gave myself the chance to just do dumb things, date shitty people, etc. etc.”
Gravely, you say. “It’s really not that exciting.”
He laughs. “I know.” His voice dips. “I just wish I had figured that out myself.”
Jeonghan doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it, but he makes this face, this sad-eyed, forced smile face that makes him look so suddenly vulnerable. Like you could tap his shoulder and watch him unravel from head to toe. You feel a rush of pity in the middle of your chest, a quiet urge to reach over and give him all the teenage regrets he never got to have. Instead, you lean towards him and say, “You’re still young. You can still do dumb things. Date shitty people.”
His eyes flit up to you. You notice what a beautiful shade of brown they are. How big they are. How sincerely sad they look. (And you know, somewhere, in a very far corner of your mind, that those eyes will be the ultimate death of you.)
“Well, I don’t know about that last part.” He starts, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “Technically, I’m dating you.”
You place your palm on your chest. “And I swear to be the shittiest fake partner you’ll ever have.”
He smiles. The sun emerges from behind a cloud. And his eyes–you swear to god–they glimmer.
You and Jeonghan’s first outing as an official fake couple is back at the frat house. To your surprise Jeonghan stays by your side the entire time. He takes you around the house, gets you a drink, and introduces you to his friends, but you’re quick to shoot down any shock because what else would a fake boyfriend be doing at a party. Although it’s not as easy to calm down the beating of your heart when Jeonghan’s hand finds its way into yours at some point in the night. By the time the party is in full swing, people bursting from every open door and window in the house, you’re already a little tipsy.
You’re getting a refill for your nearly done drink when another girl appears in front of Jeonghan. From the way she’s twirling her hair between her fingers and leaning into one hip, you can tell that, at least from her end, it’s more than just a friendly conversation. But even that doesn’t really explain what makes you act the way you do. Maybe it’s the alcohol, you reason. Or maybe the fact that Jeonghan’s popularity is just as contagious as the rest of him. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that you’ve gotten a little too invested in this whole fake dating act. Either way, you swallow reason with the last of your drink, strut up to the both of them, and latch yourself to Jeonghan’s side, letting your arm wrap around his. You give the girl a snotty ‘sorry, he’s taken’ before dragging Jeonghan away, giggling into your palm with no intention to return. When you look back at Jeonghan, you find him looking quite amused as well.
“That was good!” He tells you by the time you’re both in the hallway. “But you know what would really seal the deal?”
You’re excited. Fake dating is fun. “What?”
“If we kissed?”
“Oh, please.” Your eyes do a drunken loop de loop. “I’m gonna go get my refill.”
“No, seriously.” He says with a look you can’t quite comprehend. “Look. She’s still watching.”
You look beyond his shoulder and sure enough, the girl is still watching you and him in the hallway. And she looks pissed. Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t that far off with the stalker accusation.
“You see what I have to deal with. Just one kiss. We probably won’t even have to do it again after this.”
“Probably?” You echo.
“Well, yeah, I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs except that you barely hear the words because you’re too focused on taking a tiny step back each time he takes a tiny step towards you. Eventually, the charade ends. Your heel and head meet the wall. His knee meets yours.
You’re painfully aware of your own breathing when you say, “When I said to be young and stupid this is not what I meant.”
He giggles in your face. You can smell the vodka on his breath. Is he drunk? Are you?
“Who’s going to believe we’re dating if we never kiss?”
And well, you can’t really argue with that logic. “Fine, but keep it short.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Do I look like the kind of guy to keep a kiss short?” You snort at that, and when he takes yet another step closer to you, your hands instinctively fly up against his chest. He tangles his fingers between yours and pulls your hands down, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he says except that he’s so close it’s more like he exhales the word and inhales you, “can I kiss you now?”
He lets go of your hands, as if he’s making sure you know you have an out. Your eyes flit up to his, only to find that he’s watching your lips.
“Oh, fuck it,” is what you say before you fist his shirt and pull him in so that his lips meet yours.
And the moment you do all of your previous precautions are thrown out the window because—dang how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?
Somewhere along the kiss, you lose yourself in the sensation of it, tugging on Jeonghan’s shirt. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in until your bodies are flush against each other. And when he slips his tongue into your mouth you tell yourself you allow it to happen because you’re tipsy or touch starved or both. Although none of those excuses explain why your arms snake around his neck and why your entire body turns to jelly when he moans in your mouth.
“Hey lovebirds,” you hear Soonyoung yell from somewhere thousands and thousands lightyears away, somewhere so far away you barely hear it, “get a room.” You both pull away from the kiss, faces only moving a tiny bit apart. Neither of you try to remove yourselves from the other's arms. He smiles, wide enough that his cheek brushes up against your nose, and it makes you forget where you are. Your ears betray you. You let yourself think he’s talking about the kiss and not the charade when he says, “Thanks for that.”
You throw caution to the window, laughing freely against his face. “Asshole. You knew I wouldn’t say no.”
He steps back, pulling away from your embrace. “Yeah,” he mutters, looking back to the main room, “that should do it.” You follow his eyes to see the girl from earlier whispering to a friend while sneaking glances at you two. You’re reminded of the whole reason you and Jeonghan were kissing in the first place.
He points to your cup. “Shot?”
You laugh—or well at least you try to—but it gets caught in your throat and distorted into a small cough. You swallow. “Yes.”
Thankfully, things aren’t awkward between you and Jeonghan after the party, although there’s no real reason for there to be other than the fact that you agreed to fake date him without really thinking about what else it would implicate. In fact, things are sort of easy with Jeonghan. He finds you around campus more often, and you find him too, walking each other to class and grabbing coffee when you both have a spare moment. In the midst of getting a fake boyfriend, you also get a new friend. With Jeonghan’s help, you actually start understanding math enough to complete the homework without having to flip back to the textbook every question. And it’s not too long after the party that you’re planning your next outing as a couple.
The stands of the field are absolutely packed with people. You had no idea soccer games rallied this much interest at your school.
“We’re playing a top ranked school apparently,” Soonyoung reads off a sign as you both make your way towards the student section. Luckily, he knows as little about the sport as you do. “So, why exactly did you agree to fake date Jeonghan?”
“He’s tutoring me in multi.” You explain to him, scanning the stands. While walking over to the game, you had told Soonyoung about the whole act, confirming what he already started to suspect when you first suggested going to the soccer game together. (“Drunken makeout I get.” Soonyoung had said. “But going to his games seemed like a stretch.” You shoved him off the sidewalk.)
“At least you’re getting something out of it.” He snorts. “Who are we looking for?”
You show him the text from Jeonghan, telling you to sit with his friend. “Do you know him?”
Soonyoung looks into the crowd. “Him?” He asks, pointing to a guy waving you and him over. You inhale sharply, waving back. “So if it’s fake, why is Jeonghan having you meet his friends?” Soonyoung asks as you head over.
“He has his reasons.” You offer, having asked a similar question yourself. You reach the stand where his friend is seated, crossing past the others in the row and gently apologizing as you bump into dozens of knees.
“Hi, I’m Joshua.” Jeonghan’s friend introduces himself as you and Soonyoung take your seats. You return the greeting, introducing yourself to him. Looking around the student section, you notice everyone else dressed in school merchandise. “Was I supposed to wear school colors for this?”
Soonyoung gives you a long look. Then just laughs in your face.
“Asshole.” You grumble quietly. “Could’ve said something.”
Joshua laughs as well, although much less in-your-face than Soonyoung’s. “I’m surprised Jeonghan didn’t give you like a jersey to wear or something.”
You had meant the asshole in question to be Soonyoung, not Jeonghan, but you don’t really have the heart to correct him. Instead, while waiting for the game to start, you ask, “How do you know Jeonghan?”
“Oh, we met freshman year. We both rushed the frat together, but I dropped after one semester.” Soonyoung pops in then, telling Joshua about when he rushed, and the two boys talk about other people they both mutually know. As one does.
They run out of people after a person named Jihoon. Joshua turns back to you. “How did you and Jeonghan meet? I haven’t even gotten the full story yet.”
“We met through Soonyoung, technically, I guess. At the house during a party. Soonyoung let me into his bathroom.”
Joshua nods, and with a playful lilt adds, “not a stalker, are you?”
You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and turn back to Soonyoung on the other side of you. “I hope you know I’m never beating the stalker allegations because of you.”
Soonyoung smiles smugly at you.
“No, I’m kidding,” Joshua says through a laugh hidden behind his palm. “I just know how paranoid Jeonghan is about that stuff now.”
The wording pokes at a corner of your mind. “Now?”
Joshua nods, solemnly almost. “He actually had one last year. Didn’t end up being anything seriously endangering luckily. But he barely left his dorm for the rest of the semester after all was said and done.”
You think back to your conversation with Jeonghan on the roof of the library. You feel a familiar pang of pity bloom in your chest. He never got to just be young. Outloud, you hear yourself saying, “stupid.”
Joshua leans towards you. “What?”
You wave it off, and the crowd erupts into cheer. Everybody starts standing up, yelling and jumping and whooping. You hesitate for too long obviously. Soonyoung pulls you up by your arm. You see the team rush the field and the crowd gets impossibly louder. You look for Jeonghan among the players scanning each of them until you find him towards the left side of the field, warming up or something. You’re not really sure. Either way, you hear yourself start cheering when you find him, hands cupping around your mouth. The game starts soon enough with Joshua explaining to you and Soonyoung which position Jeonghan plays and what the hell is happening each time a player receives a card. After the first 15 minutes, you actually get a pretty good understanding of the whole thing.
The first half comes to a close with the opposing team up by one goal and Jeonghan’s team looking exhausted and dispirited.
“Hey, I gotta head out.” Soonyoung tells you once everything has settled down for halftime. “Still have to finish that chem lab due tonight.”
You grimace at the reminder of the report. “Good luck. It took me 5 hours.”
He gives you a miserable thumbs up. Then, turns his attention to Joshua. “It was nice to meet you.”
Joshua returns the sentiment. “I’ll see you at Tim’s once you’re done with the report though, right?”
Soonyoung’s lips turn to a fine line. “I, well, it’s a funny story but uh…”
“He’s banned from Tim’s.” You finish for him.
Joshua does not hide his shock. Soonyoung just shrugs and walks off. Joshua turns to you, exasperated. “But it’s the only bar in town.”
You inhale, “And Soonyoung is the type to get impulsively banned from it for the rest of college.” The answer doesn’t seem to do much of anything for Joshua’s profound confusion. “What’s at Tim’s tonight?”
“Oh, the team always goes there after games. They normally invite some friends too. Whoever can make it out basically.” You nod at his explanation, watching as people leave the stands then return, holding steaming, paper cartons of food. God, that smells good. You crane your neck to see. Are those corn dogs? “Did Jeonghan not tell you about it?”
“What?” He pulls you out of a trance of your own. “Oh, yeah, yeah. I think he mentioned it. I probably just forgot.”
Joshua chuckles politely. “So are you coming?”
Oh crap. “Uh, well…” A million lies run through your mind, chasing past one another, zigzagging in your brain. You have homework. You have other plans. You and Jeonghan aren’t even actually dating. Well—a million lies and one truth you guess. Either way, they all fizzle to nothing. Jeonghan didn’t tell you about the tradition at Tim’s. He probably doesn’t even want you there. So what the hell are you supposed to tell his best friend?
Luckily, you never have to figure that out. Fanfare erupts through the crowd, the announcer sounds throughout the entire field. “Oh the game’s restarting,” you mutter. Joshua is either genuinely disinterested in your response or just polite enough to not ask about it again. You have a crummy feeling it’s the latter.
The second half of the game is much more intense than the first. Your school’s team comes out blazing, scoring a goal in the first ten minutes in an insane effort led by the player with a 7 on his back. And the crowd, you included, absolutely lose their shit. You’re jumping up and down on the stands, screaming at the top of your lungs, voice lost among the rest. The team rushes to the right corner of the field closest to the student section, colliding in hugs and jumps and screaming maybe even louder than the hundreds of you in the stands. You watch Jeonghan in the celebration, hair matted down with sweat, mouth ajar in a soundless cheer, embracing a teammate before ditching him to literally jump on top of another. Your yells turn to laughs. And before you know it, the game is back on, all players racing across the field in a mad dash. The ball goes flying. Penalty cards flying to nearly every player at least once. The entire student section is at the edge of their seats. Time seems to fly by with unified chants filling your ears and throat. There’s only 10 minutes left. The game is still in a tie, and you really don’t feel like sitting here for the extra time. Then, someone starts singing the school’s fight song. Eventually, the whole section is singing it. You included. It ignites something in the team.
The opposing team has the ball, dribbling it across the field and passing it back and forth. Out of nowhere, one of your school’s players appears right next to the opponent with the ball. He kicks the ball out from under the other player, taking him and the rest of the stands by surprise. The ball rolls from under his knees to another of your school’s players. Jeonghan’s teammate is in action immediately, sprinting away with the ball to the opposite side of the field, feet flying faster than your mind can even comprehend. And just as one of the opposing team’s members closes in on him, he punts the ball in the air and it flies and flies and flies. Your heart lurches. There’s no mistaking it–the ball is aimed for Jeonghan. 7 minutes left. Jeonghan receives the ball perfectly, immediately racing away with it towards the goal. An opponent chases after him, forcing him to head nearer and nearer to the touchlines. It all happens so fast. The other player kicks his feet out to steal the ball. Jeonghan crosses the ball over to another teammate. The teammate receives it with his head. He dribbles it forward for half a second and then shoots. Time nearly stops when he does. The goalie throws their entire body to block the ball, and every present body watches, stupefied, as the ball blows right past the goalie’s head and lands squarely within the goal.
And if you thought the previous goal’s celebration was loud, this one’s is deafening. The entire stadium roars in pride. Your school won. Jeonghan won. And you can’t stop fucking smiling.
Joshua convinces you to wait for Jeonghan and the rest of the team at Tim’s with him. You do. For matters of fake dating but also because you could really use a beer. Conversation with Joshua is fun and light. By the time you’re both on your second round, his politeness dims to tease you for your drink of choice. You see now why he’s one of Jeonghan’s closest friends.
There’s commotion towards the entrance. You turn your heads towards it and watch Jeonghan’s team rumble through the tiny door, yelling at god knows what and rushing to the bar.
Joshua stands to go say hi. You follow him, walking slightly behind. Jeonghan finds you before you both find him. He tackles Joshua first, hugging him from the side, and literally ‘whooping’ into his ear. Joshua smacks at his face at first, but eventually joins him in the repeated ‘whooping’ jumping up and down in celebration. Then Jeonghan sees you. The whooping fades. He stares.
You swallow.
“Yah!” He exclaims, releasing Joshua and pointing a finger at your shirt. “I thought I told you to wear the jersey I gave you.”
Your face drops. Whatever happened to ‘hi’, ‘hello’, ‘how are you’?
Joshua says something about the bathroom and walks to the back of the bar.
You shake your head at the remaining boy. “It’s a little bit concerning how good you are at lying, you know.”
“Well, we can’t have people suspecting us.” He retorts, stepping closer to you as someone passes behind him.
“Is it okay that I’m here?” You ask, quiet enough for no one else to hear, face scrunching. “I didn’t know what to say to Joshua earlier, but I can definitely make up a lie if you want to just–”
“Are you kidding?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “I want you here! We have to celebrate. This was the biggest game of the season, and we won it!” Then, with that same crooked smile you noticed upon first meeting, he adds, “Plus, you’re not very good at lying.”
You scoff. “Even now, you have the capacity for assholery.”
His eyebrows zip together. “I don’t think that’s a word.”
“It could be.”
Someone pats Jeonghan on the back, handing him a drink. Jeonghan asks what it is. The other person tells him to just drink it. Jeonghan does so begrudgingly. You recognize the person to be player number 7.
“Hi, I’m Seungcheol,” number 7 says to you, holding out his hand. You shake it, introducing yourself and congratulating him on the game.
“Hey, is assholery a word?” Jeonghan asks his teammate, watching your face contort through a thousand different variations of annoyance and disbelief.
Seungcheol looks between the two of you. “Uh, no. Don’t think so.”
“Ha!” Jeonghan wags a finger in your face. “You owe me a drink.”
You narrow your eyes at him, but you head towards the bar with Jeonghan anyways, where you find Joshua again ordering the three of you a round of shots. “No, no,” he insists, when you try to tell him that you’re already buying drinks, “I owe Jeonghan a drink anyways.”
And as you find out throughout the course of the night, apparently every other patron at Tim’s owes Jeonghan a drink. You lose count of how many times you’ve heard him say so after your third beer. Joshua makes his exit soon after that and conveniently right before the team starts singing the fight song again. You start dreaming of bed when a guy you recognize as number 3 gets on a chair and starts leading the crowd.
Your phone buzzes.
Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finished the report :0
Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finally
Soonyoung [1:24 AM]: how’s tim’s
You [1:24 AM]: did you know they had a karaoke machine?
Soonyoung [1:25 AM]: do you not remember how i got banned in the first place
You [1:25 AM]: sore subject mb
You [1:27 AM]: damn how’d you finish the report so fast
You [1:27 AM]: you only started it after the game right
Soonyoung [1:28 AM]: u know me xD
An odd feeling settles in your stomach as they start the last stanza of the fight song. You shove your phone in your pocket and ask for the check.
By 2 am, the celebration is finally winding down, and the entire team is collectively too drunk to stand. “Come on, Jeonghan,” you pull him away as he says goodbye to his friends for the millionth time. “Let’s go home.”
He finally relents, turning away from his friends and throwing both his arms over your shoulders, hugging you from the back. “Let’s go to yours.”
“Mine? Why?”
“It’s closer.” Then after a moment, he bumps his chin against your shoulder and adds, “Plus, I wanna see your room.”
“Fine,” you huff and start walking. Jeonghan releases himself from your back, electing to walk on his own until you realize he’s too much of a wanderer to be unattached, drifting off to the edge of the sidewalk or in the wrong direction every chance he gets. He asks you to carry him. You settle for holding his hand. The two of you walk quietly back to your dorm. That is until Jeonghan starts humming the fight song again. You snap. “Is that the only song you guys know tonight?”
He stops humming and apologizes. You don’t say anything back. Then, very quietly, sounding so infuriatingly innocent, he says, “I didn’t mean to get this drunk.”
You’re an asshole. “No. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m just a little… upset right now.”
He burps. “Because of me?”
The look on his face when he says it pulls a laugh from between your lips. “No. Not because of you.” You make a right onto your street, dragging Jeonghan along as he tries to take a left. “Anyway, I thought student athletes weren’t supposed to drink.”
“No, we’re not supposed to get caught drinking.” Jeonghan holds out his hand in front of him, as if to say ‘stop’ to something invisible to you. “Very different.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Either way, I don’t drink that much.”
You scoff, stopping in front of the door to your building. “What do you mean? You drank last weekend.”
He shakes his head. “That was a special occasion.”
“And the occasion was…?”
He looks you dead in the eye.
“You make me nervous.”
Then, he turns around and vomits into the bushes behind him.
Once you get him to your apartment and in your bathroom, you leave him to vomit out the alcohol. Returning after the retching sounds recede and you’ve changed into pjs. He’s seated on the floor beside the toilet, eyes closed and head resting against the wall. You sit on the other side. Thank god, you cleaned this bathroom yesterday. “How do you feel?” You ask him.
He inhales. “Much better now that I…” He gestures to the toilet.
“Here.” You hand him a glass of water.
He opens his eyes and takes it, drinking from it slowly. “Sorry I got so drunk.”
“You already apologized 30 times on the way up here.” You remind him.
“But I’m really sorry.”
“And I really don’t mind.”
He considers that for a long moment. “You sure?”
You lean forward. “I’m sure. More water?”
He shakes his head, wordlessly eyeing your pajama pants. You look down at your snoopy pants. You hadn’t thought too hard about your choice of bottoms when you changed. “Cute.” He mutters, smiling at them.
You mumble back a ‘thanks’.
“So, what’d you think of the game?”
You tell him honestly how much fun you had watching them play, giving him every reaction you had to every move made and all your unfiltered opinions on the refs. He listens intently, filling you in on all the thoughts that ran through his head while they were playing and every conversation that happened on the sidelines.
“Thanks for coming.” He tells you once you’ve both exhausted all opinions relating to the game itself. “And for meeting Joshua and coming out to Tim’s afterwards and then getting me out of Tim’s too.”
“Jeonghan, it’s really not that big of a deal. And Joshua was a lot of fun to hang out with.”
“Hey, don’t get too attached.” He warns. “I’m the one you’re fake dating.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“So, then, as your fake boyfriend,” he gulps down the last of the water, “are you going to tell me what you were so upset about?”
You exhale, flexing your fingers. “It’s stupid.”
“And here I was thinking we had made a pact to be young and dumb.” You run your tongue over your top row of teeth, holding back a smile. “So, what happened?”
“I just got this text from Soonyoung that he finished this one assignment. And, I don’t know, I just felt so ridiculous because it took me so much longer than him to do.”
“Which assignment? The chem lab?”
You don’t remember telling Jeonghan about it. “Uh, yeah. How did you–”
“Man, who cares if it took you longer? I know Soonyoung, and I know you, and I bet yours is a million times better than his. No offense to Soonyoung, but I’m pretty sure he’d agree anyways.”
“Okay, you’re drunk.”
“That may be true, but it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re brilliant.”
Something about the way he says it, how steady his voice is maybe or the way he refuses to look away, forces you to see how much he believes it. But even that, doesn’t do much to change what you think.
“What are you talking about? I wouldn’t even be passing multi if it weren’t for you.” Your voice cracks as you say the words, making it all come out sounding much sadder than you had intended it to. You hope he doesn’t notice.
“That’s really not true.” You can’t even trust yourself to respond to him. He pouts. “Are you upset again?”
“A little.”
“I’m sorry. Let’s drop it.”
“Gladly.” Then, after a moment, you laugh at how silly it all is.
“First fight of the relationship.” He gives you your second half smile of the night. “I think we should hug it out.”
Your body reacts to the words before you do. “I disagree–”
“Did you just cringe?”
“–you smell like vomit.”
“Well, do you have clothes for me?”
“No, but I have a couch.”
He holds his index finger up. “I’ll take it.”
(When you wake up the next morning, Jeonghan’s gone. You open your phone and find 2 more apologies and 3 more thank you’s from him.
You try to ignore the twinge of disappointment.)
When the third weekend of fake dating rolls around, you admittedly are a bit tired of going to parties and getting drunk. So when Jeonghan asks what the plans are, you suggest he say that he’s taking you out on a date instead.
As such, you’ve spent nearly the entire day in bed. You’re heating up some water on the stove to make ramen when you get a text from Jeonghan saying he’s five minutes away. You stare at the text. The fuck does that mean?
Unsurprisingly, it ends up meaning that he was literally five minutes away. You open the door when he knocks and stare at him standing in the doorway.
“What are you wearing?” Is the first thing he says. You look down at your outfit. “You should’ve told me this was going to be a sweats kind of date before I put real clothes on.”
“Date?”
“Don’t look so surprised, it was your idea.” Jeonghan reminds you, strutting into your kitchen.
“No, no.” You say, returning to your boiling water. “My idea was to tell people we’re going on a date. Like as a cover.”
“Oh.” He falls down onto your couch. “Well I’m here so get dressed there’s this new ramen place I wanna try.”
You sigh, turning the stovetop off before trudging to your room to change.
The ‘date’ ends up being quite nice. You discuss a study plan to prepare for your math midterm over a much yummier bowl of ramen than you had planned on consuming today. Afterwards, you walk the streets of downtown, only intending to window shop. However, now, standing in a small boutique, Jeonghan tries to convince you to buy matching necklaces.
“Come on, they’re so cute.”
“We don’t need matching necklaces, Jeonghan.”
“A real couple would definitely have matching necklaces.”
“Good thing we’re not one.”
“Fine then. Guess I’ll just stop tutoring you in math too. You know Lubinsky’s midterms are almost as hard as his finals, right?”
You grab two of the necklaces and turn to the cashier. “How much?” You swear you hear Jeonghan whoop from behind you.
“Hey,” Jeonghan whispers, “we’re here.” You open your eyes slowly, not even registering that you fell asleep on the ride back to campus after the date-but-not-date. “You drool when you sleep by the way.”
And that wakes you up. You wipe whatever drool is left on your mouth, muttering a small and embarrassed ‘shut up’.
“What are you doing for the rest of your day?” He asks as you gather your things from his car.
“Absolutely nothing. Today’s the last day to rot before midterm prep starts.” You tell him, looking for your wallet. “What about you?”
“Avoiding a mixer at the house tonight.” He reaches into the center console and hands you the leather slip.
You take the wallet gratefully. “Wanna join me? We can make some tea. Watch a movie.”
He puts the car in park. “I know just what we should watch.”
And that’s how you end up on your couch with Jeonghan, two emptied mugs sitting on the coffee table, blanket draped over your legs, and the worst movie you’ve seen to date playing in the background.
“Wow, this movie sucks ass.”
“This,” Jeonghan gestures passionately to the screen, “is cinema.” You clasp your hands together as if in prayer. He takes a double take at the motion. “What are you doing?”
“I’m thanking god that your major is business and not film.” He immediately smacks apart your hands. “Don’t lie.” You say gasping for air between laughs. “This movie is objectively not good.”
His tongue peeks out between his lips, you practically see the smiling begging to emerge on his face. “Okay, so it might not be all that it was hyped up to be, but–”
“Ha!” You point a finger in his face. “I knew you hated it.” He slumps into the couch, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Do you want more tea?” You ask. He soundlessly nods, refusing to move his eyes from the tv screen.
You stand to make some, grabbing both mugs from the table. “So, do you not have a roommate?” Jeonghan questions, as you pour water from the kettle into the mugs.
You look to the second, empty room of your apartment style dorm. “Actually, no. There was supposed to be someone there, but they moved or dropped out at the start of the year and the school never filled the room.”
“Ah.” Jeonghan clicks, nodding as if finally putting together the last piece of a puzzle “So, that’s why you’re so friendless.”
You return to the couch with full mugs. “I am not friendless.” He makes a face. “Really. I have friends.”
“Other than Soonyoung?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, name them.” You kick him under the blanket. “Fine. You have friends.” (“I have friends.”) “But how come you never talk about hanging out with them?”
You exhale slowly, sinking further into the couch. “I just didn’t do too well in school last semester, so I promised myself I would focus on classes this time around. And, I don’t know, I guess I just got so caught up in that and haven’t really been making the time or effort for hangouts.”
He tilts his head. “You know, I feel like there’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. I mean we see each other regularly.”
“That’s because half of the time we’re studying.”
He gives you a look. “You know what I mean.”
You sigh, considering his point. Maybe at one point you would have thought the same. Last semester you even tried to have it all–the friends, the social life, the grades. But in the end, you dropped the ball. You can’t afford to make those same mistakes. “I just don’t think that world exists for me.”
He finally looks away from the tv and gives his full attention to you. His eyes seem to linger on every turn in your face. Quietly, he says, “So that’s what it is.” He doesn’t offer an explanation immediately. Instead, his chest deflates in one long exhale, and you smother the voice in your head that’s begging you to ask for one. And there’s this conviction in his voice, this breathtaking finality, when he says, “When are you going to believe me when I say that you’re one of the smartest people I know?” that scares the living shit out of you.
He looks at you again, and you swear to god, his eyes fall right through your frame. You swallow. “What about you?”
His eyebrows raise. “What about me?”
“Who are your friends? How do you spend all your time apart from classes, soccer, the frat, tutoring me and–oh my god, nevermind, new question. Do you even sleep?”
He takes a sip from the tea. “Don’t forget the business honor society. I’ll be the treasurer next fall.”
You squint at him. “Why?”
And like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world he says, “oh, well, they asked.”
Suddenly, you’re reminded of all the times you’ve seen him get asked out on dates followed by every time he’s failed to say no. “Jeonghan,” you turn to him, setting down your mug. (“oh, this is serious, okay.”) You ignore him. “Can you not say no to people?”
He blows a raspberry. “I can say no. Ask me something.”
“Uhhhh,” you rack your brain, “how about–let’s go to the beach next weekend.”
The closest beach is 5 hours away, and yet he has the audacity to say, “Wait, that sounds like fun though.”
“I thought you hated the ocean.”
“Yeah, but maybe it’d be fun with you.”
You shake your head, muttering how impossible he is. The end credits of the movie finally plays.
“I should head out.” Jeonghan says, removing himself from under the blanket. You nod, grabbing the mugs of tea and bringing them to the kitchen. He follows you to the door. You both exchange the usual ‘this was fun’, ‘let’s do it again’, ‘I’ll see you later’ that ends every hangout you’ve had in college. But then, unlike every other person you’ve held the door open for as they leave, after Jeonghan says his final goodbye, he gives you a peck on the lips.
Did that just happen?
Your fingers touch against your lips. Oh my god, it did.
He blinks. “Sorry. I, uh, I don’t know why I just,” he points to your lips, swallowing, “lol. We’re always pretending and then now. And you. Okay, well, anyways, I’ll leave.”
He turns and doesn’t look back. You hear a ‘bye’ sound from the hallway.
And it’s only by the time he’s probably halfway home that it hits: You’ve never seen Jeonghan flustered like that.
The first day of midterm prep is brutal. You spend the entire night in the library, studying for hours on end. And once an hour, on the dot it seems, you hear Jeonghan’s voice in your head. There’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. That very night you text your friends, asking if they want to join you in one of the library study rooms you have booked every evening this week. They do, excited to hear from you again and for the gentle encouragement to get a head start on studying. You hate to admit that Jeonghan was right, but goddammit he was. You have a blast with your friends. You had barely even realized how long you’d gone without seeing them and how much you missed them. By the time your Thursday afternoon tutoring with Jeonghan comes back around, you’re still on track with the study plan you created over ramen, and you have exciting news for him.
“A birthday party?” Jeonghan says, voice carefully devoid of the disdain you must know he feels.
“Yeah, they heard through whoever that we’re dating, and now they all want you to come.”
“But a birthday party?” He repeats. This time not trying to hide anything.
“Oh come on. I went to the game for you.”
“Yeah, but the game was fun.”
“This will be fun too!” You say in what you hope is an encouraging way.
“Fine. But promise you won’t ditch me for your friends.”
“You’re so dramatic.” You mutter. “But yes, I promise.”
That Friday night Jeonghan meets you at your apartment and the two of you head over to the party together.
Halfway down the hallway to your friend’s apartment, Jeonghan suddenly halts. “Shit, should I have brought something?”
“Like what?”
“A gift? Wine? I don’t know.”
“Jeonghan, it’s a party. Don’t overthink it.” You tell him, opening the door to your friend’s apartment.
You step into her entryway and immediately feel like you’ve been transported into another world. The lights are all off save for some LED lights wrapped around the living room ceiling. An assortment of stacked red solo cups, yak-worthy bottles of vodka, and seltzers take over all available kitchen counter space. Some old pop song from an artist you know your friend loves plays loudly from the tv, reverberating through every pair of ears shoved into this tiny apartment. You inhale. The air reeks distinctly of college. You love it.
“Oh my god, there’s even people on the balcony.” Jeonghan whispers in your ears. You pivot your head around to look at him. He looks back at you, unassuming. “What?”
This entire scene is one you’re quite familiar with, having spent many nights just like this in previous semesters. But as you watch Jeonghan gape at the amount of people fitted into the kitchen alone, you figure he might not be as acquainted with this. “Yoon Jeonghan, is this your first apartment party?”
He cocks his head to the side. “Is it not yours?”
But before you can tell him all about the life you used to live before him, your friends find you attacking you with hugs and introducing themselves to Jeonghan.
Jenny, the birthday girl in question, sloppily points at both of you and says, “I’ve been drinking since noon. You need to catch up.”
After a minute of half-hearted protest, you oblige, heading over to the kitchen area. You grab two cups, handing Jeonghan one. “There’s soda over there if you’re not drinking tonight,” you tell him, pointing to the area beside the sink where a line of mixers await.
He looks over at the bottles, then looks back at you. “Are you drinking?”
“Yes!” Your friend Daniel yells from over the music. You just shrug, reaching for one of the handles. “I guess so.”
Jeonghan inhales sharply, holding out his cup for you to pour. “I’ll have what you’re having then.”
You hesitate, open bottle hovering over the lip of his cup. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Why?”
You frown. “I was thinking about what you said after the game about how you don’t drink that much, and I don’t want you to drink just because I am. I can not drink too.”
He pushes his cup up. “What was it you said earlier? It’s a party. Don’t overthink it.”
Then he gives you that crooked half smile that you’ve come to know so well. You pour him a drink and pour yourself one too. You turn back to your friends, holding up your cup for a cheers.
“Wait, wait, what are we cheersing to?” Daniel asks, grabbing his cup from behind him and holding it up, tapping on Jenny’s shoulder for her to do the same.
It’s Jeonghan who answers. Looking straight at you, he holds his cup up high and says, “To friends.”
You bring the drink up to your lips smiling, watching him watching you. All four of you down your drinks. The drink is absolutely terrible, burning a path down your throat all the way down. Jeonghan hands you another cup, whispering ‘it’s coke’ with an equally pained expression on his face. You take it gratefully.
“God,” Jenny says, placing a hand on her chest while watching the exchange between you and Jeonghan, “they’re like an old married couple already. How have we missed all this?”
“I know.” Daniel says, shaking his head. “I can still barely believe it.”
You glare at him. “Hey, what’s so hard to believe?”
They both ignore you, turning their attention to Jeonghan instead.
“So, we’ve heard all the boring–how you guys met, first date–sort of stuff, but we want to know the juicy details–”
“Jenny, don’t you have other guests to attend to or–”
“Yeah,” Daniel joins in, “like what’s your favorite thing about them?”
You turn to Jeonghan immediately. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“My favorite part,” Jeonghan starts, ignoring your plea to not humor them and tapping a finger on his chin in thought. He must find it after a moment, pausing the tapping and stealing a glance your way. “Probably how much fun I have with them.” He says to your friends. “I feel like we’re always laughing together or just having a good time. I’ve never been able to talk to someone as easily as I do with them. Like you know how when you get towards the end of a really good book, and you just can’t put it down, pushing everything else to the side to keep reading. Hanging out with them is like that.” Turning back to look at you, he adds, “I never want it to end.”
You hold his gaze while Jenny and Daniel erupt into a series of awes and exclamations. Deep in your gut, you know that you should be focusing on the kind smile on his face or the sudden rapidity in your heartbeat, but instead, more cruelly, you wonder how much of that was a lie he made up to appease the role of your fake boyfriend.
You turn to pour yourself another drink. He holds his cup out as well. You pour for two.
“You okay?” He asks, pouring some fruit punch into both your cups as well.
You nod. You have no reason to be upset. So taking a sip of the drink, you decide you’re not. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“We should play a game,” he says, taking a sniff of your jointly made concoction.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, like…” He looks around the apartment. “We have to drink every time we see someone kissing.”
“What kind of rule is that?”
“No. It’ll be fun.” He says, scanning the apartment again. He sucks in air between his teeth. “Damn, I thought there’d be more kissing than this for some reason.”
You laugh at his cluelessness, and then lean in to kiss his cheek. “There.” You say, clinking your cup against his. “Now, we can drink.”
He taps a finger to the tip of his nose twice, then points it at you, before taking two large gulps of his drink.
The game actually does a good job of getting you and Jeonghan drunk once Jenny catches wind if it and starts giving out birthday kisses to whoever will take one. After a while, you make the executive decision that you need a break and escape to the bathroom to piss. When you exit back into the hallway off the living room, Jeonghan is there, leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for you. He hands you your cup back. “Your friends are terrible, terrible enablers,” he says, motioning for you to drink up while taking a drink himself. You whimper, leaning against the wall beside him and readmitting the dreaded liquid to your body.
“So,” you bump your shoulder against his, “are you having fun?”
He shifts his entire body to face you, shoulder resting against the wall, back turned to the entire party. He puts his face right in front of yours, narrows his eyes at you playfully, and says, “did you even listen to what I said?”
You put a hand on his shoulder. Just to have something between his body and yours. “What?”
He grins cheekily, letting out a puff of air that smells like cherry. “I always have fun with you.”
You laugh. Then in a voice sober you would be embarrassed of, you say, “And you never want it to end?”
He sticks his tongue out just barely, laughing into your neck. “And I never want it to end.”
You kiss him.
You don’t stop to think about what it might mean tomorrow or even in the next hour. You don’t stop to think about the fact that you’re too drunk to be initiating kisses or the possibility that he is. You don’t stop to think about anything, other than how much you love the sound of his laugh and how badly you want to feel his lips on yours again.
The kiss starts slowly, a shy orchestration of lips and breath. Your nose bumps against his, and he pulls away. He looks at you with those damn eyes, like it’s the first time all over again. And for some reason you can’t explain you bitterly think that it was always going to end like this.
He cups his free hand against your cheek and pulls you back in. Your lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss that has nothing slow and shy about it. No. It’s sloppy, hurried, and hungry. It’s tongue and teeth, crashing and colliding over and over again. It’s your body against his, every rise of your chest battling against his You wrap your free hand against his torso, pulling him impossibly closer. His hand moves from where it was holding your face to travel over the back of your head and your neck, sliding halfway down your back before pulling forward to run from your waist down to your hip. It lingers there for a moment before continuing further to grip the back of your thigh, pulling your knee up the side of his leg and holding it there against his hip.
A commotion sounds from the living room. “Oh shit.” You say breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I think she’s going to pop the champagne.”
“Okay.” He breathes, before kissing you again. You laugh in his mouth, whispering his name and pushing a hand against his chest. Finally, he lets go of your leg. You lead him back to the rest of the party where everyone is crowding around the balcony entrance. You and Jeonghan stand in the living room, watching from the window as Jenny struggles to pop the cork. She gets it after a moment, yelping at the sudden burst and spraying it over the edge of the balcony. Once the champagne dies down enough to not be overflowing, she brings the bottle to her lips and chugs. Everyone counts.
1! Jeonghan steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso and hugging you from the back. You have to remind yourself to catch your breath.
2! He rests his chin on your shoulder. Without even thinking about it, you rest your head against his. His voice is a warm breath on your neck.
3! You recall what he said to your friends at the start of the party and again to you right before the kiss. Did he mean it? Does he really not want this to end?
4! Your eyes glance over at his. He looks happy. He looks like he’s finally given himself the chance to be young and stupid, which from the start, is all you ever wanted for him. So then why does it make you feel so suddenly grief-stricken?
5! “Why didn’t you tell Joshua about us?” You ask him quietly, voice drowned out by the counting for everyone other than him.
6! He angles his chin towards you. “What do you mean? He knows we’re dating.”
7! “No, I mean why didn’t you tell him that it’s fake.”
8! He stands up straight. Fuck the counting. You turn to look at him. “He’s your best friend, isn’t he?”
9! He looks at you carefully. “Did you tell Soonyoung that it’s all been fake?”
10! You haven’t even answered him yet, but somehow, he already knows what you’re going to say.
11! “Yes.” And even alcohol couldn’t have hidden the distinct look of betrayal painted all over his face.
12! He looks down into his cup and chuckles darkly. “Why did we just kiss?”
13! You swallow. Shit. “Someone was looking at you, like–well, you know what like.”
14! He doesn’t say anything. You recount his words back to him. “Sealing the deal, remember.”
15! His eyes bore into yours. How could you have been so stupid?
16! Please, you want to beg, say something.
17! He shakes his head, smiling emptily. “Tell your friends it was nice to meet them.”
18! He doesn’t wait to hear if you have anything left to say. He turns, and you watch him disappear from the party.
The rest of the numbers blur in your head.
(That night you had called Soonyoung, sobbing over the phone, feeling more drunk then, in your apartment than you had at any other point that night.
“What’s wrong?” Alarm was flush in his voice. “What happened? Are you okay?”
The only thing Soonyoung could even make out was a very sad, very quiet, “I ruined it.”)
You haven’t talked to Jeonghan since Jenny’s party. He hasn’t texted you either. Staring at your upcoming midterm on Thursday and the extra study session with Jeonghan scheduled for Wednesday, you feel, quite lamely, mocked by your own calendar. But more than anything, you’re mad that he’s left you to study all alone the week of your midterm. You’re mad that you’re so busy replaying that night in your head, you can barely pay attention to the practice tests. You’re mad that, right now, sitting at the spot you guys always sat at in the library, you don’t have him. And you’re terrified of the creeping thought that you never really did.
By the time the midterm does come around, you’re exhausted. Not from studying or lack of sleep, but just from the sheer willpower it’s taken all week to not think about Jeonghan. You feel oddly calm going into the exam, the usual anxious chatter of students around you and rattling of chairs and pencils, not freaking you out as much as it normally would. You take the midterm, one question at a time, just as Jeonghan instructed you to do with every homework and every quiz. And then, 40 minutes in, you finish. Astonishingly, you even have enough time left to check over your work. So you do, fixing minor rounding and calculation errors, until you’re faced again with a completed exam and 15 minutes left.
You get to do something you haven’t done since high school: you turn it in early.
You spend the rest of that day in between your bed and your couch, struggling even more now than before to ignore thoughts of Jeonghan and your last conversation with him. For the past several weeks, Thursday afternoons were monopolized by Jeonghan, but today, watching the sun set outside your window, you’ve spent it all alone. The finality of what happened last weekend finally hits you: you might never speak to Jeonghan again. You really did ruin it. Suddenly, the urge to weep overcomes you. You turn on the tv instead, looking for a movie to watch. And of course it must be fate's petty joke on you that the first movie that pops up is the one you watched with Jeonghan after your date. You groan into your pillow before switching to something else.
By the time the movie is almost over and the sun has fully set, your phone rings. You had been checking it obsessively earlier and had therefore set it a bit farther away from where you were sitting. But at the sound of the ring, you’re ashamed to admit that you literally leapt for it. Your mind reads the caller id and is instantly flooded with an odd mix of relief and anxiety. Jeonghan is calling. Holy shit, Jeonghan is calling.
Your voice is shaky when you answer. “Hello?”
“Hey, this is Jeonghan’s partner right?” Your mouth parts at the voice that most definitely does not belong to Jeonghan. Who is this man? Why does he have Jeonghan’s phone? Why does it hurt your heart so much when he calls you Jeonghan’s partner? You must sit in your shock for too long because the mystery caller speaks again, sounding somewhat annoyed. “This is Seungcheol from the team. This is who I think it is, right? Because your number was saved as ‘my cutie’ with like a million heart emojis, so if not, this is about to get really awkward.” You have no idea how to respond to that. Finally, Seungcheol says your name. “This is you, right?”
You inhale sharply. “Yeah, uhm, sorry yes. Is everything alright? Aren’t you guys at practice right now?”
“Yeah, well we’re about to end, but here’s the thing…” Seungcheol then explains how terribly Jeonghan’s been playing this week, overly aggressive, missing every pass, fucking up every cross. And today, halfway through practice he hurt his shoulder and the coach sat him out entirely, forcing him to sit on the sidelines and just watch. Safe to say, this did not go over well with him, and he’s been laying down on the bench head buried in his arms, snapping at everyone who approaches him ever since. Seungcheol had to use a fake emergency bathroom break as a chance to run away to the locker room and make this call. “Do you know what’s going on with him?”
Of course you know, and it’s all your fault. You really did ruin everything with one kiss. “I–”
“Fuck, I’m running out of time. Never mind that.” Seungcheol says, cutting you off. “Can you just come down and be here, when we get off practice? Jeonghan drove over so you both can take his car back, but I think he just really needs someone here with him today.”
You wince. “Seungcheol, actually, I–”
“No, no, please. You don’t understand. I think I saw him crying on the bench. He needs you. Come.” Then after a slight hesitation he adds, “If you can. Please.”
You don’t even know what to say, but it doesn’t matter because just then the call ends. You stare at your phone, considering the options. Stay here and wallow. Or go, and try to salvage everything you’ve broken. And while you are a very accomplished wallower, you know which one you have to do. You drag your feet all the way over to your room to change.
You pace outside the field waiting for them, running through every possible scenario in your head. It does nothing, only worsening the condition of your already ailing heart. You drop down onto the curb, holding your head in your hands. Maybe he won’t even see you like this. You can’t tell if you prefer or hate that possibility.
Something bumps into your back. You look up and find Jeonghan staring down at you. You stand up so quickly your head starts to spin. Looking at him, you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing or talking to each other since meeting. You hated every second of it. But you think you might hate the look on his face right now more.
“What are you doing here?” He asks, words devoid of all the little quirks that make him him.
“Seungcheol called me.”
His face twitches. “Why?”
“He said that you–” you halt, selfishly wondering if it’s too late to abandon this ship. “How’s your shoulder?”
He looks at it, rolling it out once. He shrugs. “It’s fine now.”
You nod.
He then surprises you by asking: “How was your midterm?” Your eyes widen, searching his face for… you’re not even sure what. You don’t find it anyways.
You shift your weight uncomfortably. “It went well actually.”
He nods.
“Do you want a ride back?
He scoffs quietly. You flinch. “Can you even drive?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“How would you get back to yours?”
“I don’t know. Walk. Or maybe a bus. Or I could even–”
He doesn’t even let you finish. Voice raising when he asks again, “Why are you here?”
The words come out before you can stop them, tone matching his. “Because I’m sorry!”
“For what?”
“For kissing you!” He drops his duffle bag on the floor. “I don’t know!”
He parts his lips, inhaling as if to speak, but then he looks straight in your eyes and loses every word he might’ve wanted to say. He picks up his duffle and walks over to his car. “Jeonghan, please say something. I miss you, and I hate this. I just want to at least talk about what happened before we never speak again.”
He shoves his bag into the backseat and slams the door shut. He points to the car. “You coming?”
“Where?”
“I’ll drop you home.”
You don’t even know why you let him, but you do, sliding in the passenger seat and waiting until the car is started and moving to say something.
Or at least, that was the plan. But then you lose all the nerves you built up on your walk over and keep quiet the entire drive back to your place. It’s only when he stops in front of yours, ignition shutting off, that they build back enough for you to say, “Jeonghan, I–”
“I’m not mad because of the kiss.” He finally says, voice much softer than before. His eyes stay trained on the dashboard. “The kiss was…” He chokes on the word while the tiniest of smiles breaks like light after a storm on his face. “The kiss was perfect.” Your stomach momentarily turns into a gymnast. “I’m not even mad at all. I’m just,” You lean in after the words, as if waiting to catch them in your hands. He shakes his head once and then turns to look at you fully. “I’m upset because you think this has all been fake when, if I’m being brutally honest, I haven’t been faking anything since that first party.”
Oh.
Oh.
Holy fucking shit.
He chuckles darkly, hitting his head lightly against the steering wheel. “Now, I know what it feels like to be on the opposite end of this.”
You can’t help yourself. “How is it?”
He groans. “It’s like a thousand stomach aches throughout your entire body.”
You want to take him out of his misery, but, “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything.”
“I don’t think–”
“No, I’m serious.” He mutters. He looks pained. “Remember when you said that I can’t say no to people? This is it. I’m saying no.” He smiles at you, but you know his eyes too well and you know when there’s nothing in them. His breath catches. “I’m really happy about your midterm. I always knew you didn’t need me.”
He looks away after that, turning the car back on, an obvious signal for you to get out. Selfishly, you don’t. You take two more seconds to stare at his face, his eyes, his hair, his hands. Then you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car.
He doesn’t wait long before he drives away.
You walk back up to your dorm in a stupor of sorts. You unlock the door, step through the kitchen, walk like a zombie to your room, and stare at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes travel over your whole frame, and for some reason they fall to rest at your neck. More specifically, your necklace.
You’re out of the door, running before you even know it. Breathlessly, turning onto the road that leads to the opposite side of campus. 30 minutes away. This of course turns out to be a terrible, terrible idea. You do not run. But you get there eventually. Speed walking up to the door of Jeonghan’s frat house and knocking vigorously.
Soonyoung happens to be the one that opens it. “Oh, hey! How was your–Why can’t you breathe?”
You ignore him. “Is Jeonghan here?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think he’s back from practice yet. Why? What happened? Did you guys make up yet?”
“No, but, Soonyoung, I’ve been so stupid. This whole time I kept gabbing on and on, but I was blind. It was him. It was always–”
You hear a familiar voice say your name. Not just familiar. Your favorite voice. You turn to face him.
And you can’t help it, you grin.
You’re distantly aware of Soonyoung closing the door behind you.
“How did you get here?”
“I ran.” He makes a face. “Well, partly.”
“I told you to–”
“I know what you said.”
“Fine.” He sighs. “I didn’t–well, not like this, but listen. It’s okay if you don’t care–”
“But the thing is Jeonghan,” you say, the sentences and words you had prepared on the way over blurring together all in a rush to get out of your head and into his, “I do. There was no one looking at you at Jenny’s party. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I wanted it. I hate sports. Really, ask Soonyoung, but I went and watched your game and had fun because you asked me to and because I don’t have the capacity to actually say no to your face. I thought I hated that smirk you do, but really I just hate how flustered it makes me feel. And I’m sorry that I took the whole young and stupid thing too close to heart, but,” you pull the matching necklace out from under your shirt. “If I didn’t care, would I still be wearing this? Would I be able to stand here and tell you and I haven’t taken it off since we bought it? And that that date was the best date I’ve ever been on.” You let go of the necklace, inhaling sharply. “I care, Jeonghan.” Then, as if it needs to be clarified, you add, “about you.”
You stare at him, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
He turns around, takes two steps away from you, and then immediately plops his ass on the ground. You hear a whimper. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You approach him slowly, like a cat you’re trying like hell not to scare. You kneel down on the pavement beside him. He wipes his tears. “Don’t laugh.” He cries, already sensing the one bubbling in your throat. You shake your head as a swear not to. Which you break a second after the fact, turning your head to the side, desperately trying to hide it behind your hand. “Bully!” He exclaims.
“No. No.” You say, composing yourself and turning back to him. His tears are wiped, but a pout remains on his face. You cup your hands against his cheeks. “It’s just really cute.”
“It’s embarrassing.” He huffs.
You shake your head. “I love it.” Then you kiss him. It’s a slow and sweet kiss. You relish in it. There’s no rush anymore. No deadline. He isn’t going anywhere. Neither are you. You have all the time in the world with him.
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blueywrites · 1 month
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baby can we smoke?
eddie munson x ditsy!fem!reader you're the last person eddie expects to leave a note in his locker, but he won't regret meeting you out by the picnic table.
2.8k
cw: 18+. innocent reader (not minor-coded), corruption kink, weed usage, allusions to smut while high, no y/n, no physical descriptions.
Another 'naughty nights' ask that got a bit lengthy (check out the original ask here). I had fun writing from this perspective! Should I continue this with a part two? 👀 Let me know what you think. (PART TWO IS HERE!)
enjoy xx
Eddie finds the note in his locker right before lunch. It's written on a quarter of a math worksheet, ripped carefully at the folds and decorated with little doodles of hearts and clouds and shooting stars drawn in sparkly purple pen. That's not the only note in there, but it’s the only one that has him curious, ‘cause it’s from you.
He stops by your lunch table just before the final bell, letting his eyes rove over you while you aren’t paying attention. You’re wearing your typical attire: a fuzzy, pastel-colored sweater, baggy and soft-looking like cotton candy, paired with a little pleated skirt and that heart locket he always sees hanging from your neck in the class you share. He hadn’t pegged you as the type of girl to smoke, and it isn’t just because of the way you look since his clientele is diverse, dips into almost every pocket of the high school social ecosystem. It’s more the way you carry yourself— you seem to kind of float through life, let it bob you about without any resistance or, like, awareness, even? Like, you hum to yourself while you take notes; you don’t talk a ton, but when you do, you’ll talk to literally anybody who’s in proximity to you, including the teachers; and you’re always either giggling or smiling or, sometimes, wearing a look of vague confusion where your glossed lips will hang open, parted in a little ‘o’ like with all your concentration focused on trying to understand something, you have nothing left over to control your face.
Eddie doesn’t wanna call you dumb because that’d make him feel like an asshole, but you just seem so… innocent to be asking him to teach you how to smoke weed. It briefly crosses his mind that someone might just be trying to fuck with him and you hadn’t actually written the note, but when you finally notice him nearby, your wispy-lashed eyes widen eagerly like you’d been expecting him. 
“Yeah, so,” you say, as if continuing a conversation you’d already been having with him, “I really wanna get high, and Susie said you’re the one who sells weed, but I just don’t know how to smoke. I’ve never done it before, not even, like, cigarettes or anything.”
You seem oblivious to the way several heads at the tables around yours swing around to stare, easily overhearing since you’re not making any effort to lower your voice. Eddie merely quirks a brow at them, and when they make eye contact with him, they turn back around. “So,” you go on, “I’d just need you to help me, show me how to smoke and stuff. Would that be okay?”
Eddie debates it for just a moment before relenting with a nod. He tells you to meet him after school at the picnic table behind the athletic fields and you agree right away, smiling up at him with an expression of such utter awe and glee that he has to stop himself from snorting in amusement. It’s funny, but it’s also kind of cute, too— Eddie doesn’t remember the last time someone was so excited at the idea of receiving his help, and your enthusiasm is endearing.
It’s simply endearing all the way up until he has you sitting facing him on the picnic bench, kicking your little feet idly while you straddle it, staring at him with that little ‘o’ face of concentration as he deftly grinds the bud. You plant your hands between your spread legs, leaning forward and watching with rapt fascination as he begins to pack the green into the paper. Your bare knees press against the inside of his, soft and warm through the rips in his jeans; his eyes flick to the hem of your skirt, the way it’s barely long enough to poke out from the pooling of sweater fabric at your lap, and he adds a bonus pinch or two to the joint. It’s fat when he finishes rolling, pinching it between two callused fingers as he tilts to the side and tugs his zippo from his pocket. The lighter draws your gaze like a fluttering moth, your attention snared by the flickering flame, and Eddie finds himself staring at you for a moment before he blinks his fascination away.
“Okay.” Eddie speaks once the paper catches, and your eyes dart from the smoldering tip to his face, expectant and waiting. You’re close enough that he can see where your mascara has flaked a little onto your lids, and from this distance, your helplessness— how dependent you are on him, how sweet and open and utterly trusting you look— elicits a pang low in his belly. He swallows. “So, you’re gonna wanna keep the smoke in your mouth first, and then inhale. Not too deep though, or else you’ll cough it all out and waste it. Here, I’ll show you.” 
Eddie watches you watch him as his lips wrap around the end of the joint and he pulls from it, fairly shallowly compared to what he’d usually do. He drops his hand so you can see, lets his cheeks puff out so you won’t miss the way he’s collecting the smoke. 
And that look on your face is so entranced, Eddie feels suddenly powerful. His chest expands on the inhale, and he smirks at you, closed-mouthed and crooked as your eyes widen at how long he holds it before he lets it billow from his nose like a dragon. That delights you, and the rest of the smoke escapes Eddie’s mouth on a raspy chuckle at how simple it is to please you.
“It’s that easy?” you ask as he waves the lingering smoke away, clearing the space between you.
“‘S that easy, sweetheart,” Eddie confirms. And he finds it curious when you bite your lip, dragging your teeth along the gloss there in such a way that it has him wondering how sticky it must feel. “You ready to give it a try?”
You nod, head bouncing like a dashboard bobblehead, but when Eddie maneuvers the joint in his fingers and holds out the end for you to take, you hesitate, fidgeting and pulling at your sweater sleeves so they cover your fingers. 
“You want me to hold it for you?” Eddie guesses, and you nod again, meeting his gaze with a sweet little grateful smile that has his belly panging again, stirring with the barest amount of low, liquid heat. He reaches out, letting his hand hover at the side of your face, hesitating as he looks to you. “Can I—?”
“Yeah,” you say, your voice small and wispy in a way that isn’t helping with those stirrings he’s feeling. And your cheek is so smooth when he cups it in his hand, using the light grip to guide your face up and hold you steady for him as he brings the joint to your pouty lips. They brush Eddie’s thumb when they part for him to place the joint between them, sticking your flesh to his as you hesitantly pull the smoke into your mouth. 
“That’s it,” he rasps, merely wanting to encourage you, but you just won’t stop staring at him like that as he feeds you the hit. Like, shit, can you really blame him when the stirring creeps lower, down from his belly into his groin? Your cheeks puff up with smoke, and he can almost feel what it’d be like to see the outline of his dickhead poking out of one— all soft and slick inside, plush skin stretched tight around his—
Your hands are flapping in the air between you like you’re trying not to grab onto him, and when Eddie notices the distressed pinch between your brows, he pulls the joint hastily from between your lips. You look like a fucking chipmunk, your cheeks are so full, and Eddie realizes that as he’d zoned out thinking about his cock in your mouth, you just kept sucking and sucking ‘til you literally couldn’t anymore. 
Quickly, Eddie clutches the joint in his teeth to free his hands, gently cupping your full cheeks; sympathetic, patronizing, he says through it, “You didn’t have to— s’too much, honey, just blow a little out, okay?” 
Smoke eeks out from your pursed lips in a steady stream until he pats your face with his fingertips. “Okay, that’s enough,” he says hurriedly, lest you release the entire hit. Obedient to a fault, you are, and damn him for where his mind wanders with that information. “Now, slowly—” he tips his chin, widening his eyes for emphasis, “slowly breathe it in. Take it nice and easy.”
You do as he says, and his shoulders nearly sag with relief when you do it successfully. “Okay, hold it for a few,” he coaxes, dropping his hands and absentmindedly plucking the joint from between his teeth, watching you closely for any signs of difficulty. When you remain placid, a proud grin spreads over his face, and as the seconds tick on, you grow mutually excited, your lips pressed tight and your eyes all lit up as you look back at him. Pretty, he thinks, and then again when you finally let the breath go and smile radiantly.
“I did it!” you exclaim, drumming your sleeved hands on your thighs excitedly as you giggle.
“You did,” Eddie replies, warm and fond at the sight of your happiness and the part he played in it. He takes another hit of his own— quicker but deeper than his first— and inclines his head once he’s released it, flashing his brows encouragingly at you. “You wanna try it again?”
“Definitely,” you say, tipping your face up and leaning in expectantly. Your scent washes over him, something fruity maybe, and Eddie has to try hard not to lean further forward and drag his tongue across your lips, to pry them open and see if the inside of your mouth tastes as sweet as you smell. 
For a good while, you and Eddie trade hits back and forth, one for you for every two of his until the whites of your eyes go pink and your body loosens, unraveling upon the picnic table. You end up in a deep lean against the tabletop, your head propped in your hand, your breast squished against the wooden edge in such a way that even in that fuzzy near-shapeless sweater, the sight tantalizes him. Eddie’s feeling as high as you look, mirroring your posture with his knees spread wide, engulfing your shorter thighs in a dark frame of denim. He’s high enough that he doesn’t have that typical discomfort pinching in his chest at the silence between you, doesn’t feel the need to fill it by talking about whatever shit pops into his head. He’s consumed instead with sensation— the breeze ruffling his frizzy curls, tickling him with broken strands along his hairline; the dull crunch of old, nearly-rotted leaves under his sneakers; the hollow thrum of his pulse in his ears and the flow of living blood through his veins, cycling with each slow, rhythmic throb of his heart. And as he looks across at you— sweet, soft, sensual you — Eddie finds that since the high has his nerves all alight, he wants to touch your skin again, see how it feels now under his sensitized fingers.
The weed-haze brings with it a certain fond, almost nostalgic influence. It’s one that breaks down barriers, creates closeness where there wasn’t any, or magnifies it where there was. Your bodies are certainly closer now, sagging inward toward one another as you laze in mutual drug-induced comfort. Eddie’s used to feeling that influence, but you’re not, so when he reaches out and runs his finger down the back of your hand, you let out a small gasp at the contact. Startled, he jerks his dipping chin upright, bloodshot eyes darting to your face. But he finds no upset there, only surprise and shy pleasure painted across your features. So he plucks your hand from your lap, tugging it gently over to him and letting it rest on his thigh so he can satisfy his fascination with the texture of your skin. Your fingers twitch a little as he laces them with his, slowly dragging his fingertips through the gaps and then down your palm to your wrist. When his thumb comes back up to trace the outside of yours, you nudge into his touch, relaxing into the sensation with a languid sigh.
“Does it feel nice? The high,” he clarifies when you blink at him, droopy-lidded and wearing your little ‘o’ face. He keeps tracing along the valley of your thumb, dipping down and then back up along your index finger, enjoying the tickle of your skin against his calluses.
“Mm-hmm.” You smile, your eyes dropping to your joined hands. “Feels really nice. Kinda floaty, like my head’s not as heavy anymore.”
Eddie crooks a smile, humming his agreement. Lax and pliant, you let him continue to play with your fingers, and he’s suddenly hit with a potent impulsive urge to bring your limp hand to his mouth and nibble your fingertips, lick the smooth polish of your painted nails, suck your pinkie into his mouth and tease your skin with his tongue to see what sound you’d make. He doesn’t do that. But he does let his fingers snake under the sleeve of your fuzzy sweater, let them creep along your forearm up to the crease of your inner elbow. He drags his thumb in slow circles there, crawling around and around until he finds what he’s looking for: a sign that you feel the same stirring in your belly that he feels, revealed by the slightest whisper of a moan his touch pulls from your lips.
Encouraged, Eddie’s hands travel then— tugging out of your sleeve to smooth up your arm and over the dip of your shoulder; palming your neck, dragging up to your ear to cup around the base of your skull; ghosting across your ribcage and down to your hip; then sneaking just beneath the pleats of your tiny skirt, flexing against the hidden skin there. All the while, that liquid heat sloshes around in his belly, spreading low between his hips, dripping down to tighten in his balls and fill out his stiffening cock.
He doesn’t know exactly how it happens, but eventually, you end up laid out on the rough wood bench, your legs dangling to either side of his head as he kneels before you, nosing at the tender skin of your inner thigh. Your sigh is a shuddery, eager thing when his teeth graze the lacy edge of your cotton panties, which to his delight are swallowed up a little by the plump of your pussy lips. “Can I take these off?” Eddie asks, forcedly casual and only slightly gritty as he tries to bite back his own rabid eagerness lest he scare you off with it. But you’re quick to say yes, so quick that it tells him you want this just as much as he does, and maybe even more, though he can scarcely believe that. 
The thought makes him cocky. He eases your panties down, deliberately slow to see if you’ll get impatient. Sure enough, you wiggle your hips, whining quietly to try to hurry him; the power your neediness gives him surges with his arousal as he feels just how damp the fabric is when he balls it in his fist. Hastily, he tucks your panties into his back pocket, his eyes locked on that sweet, swollen place between your legs. 
 "Aw, look’it her,” he croons, splaying his long fingers against your inner thighs to spread you more open for him. “Can't believe you been hiding her all this time under these little skirts you wear.” 
If you’re cute, your pussy is adorable— plump like a peach, wet and ripe and glistening as he presses into your slit with his thumbs and pulls your lips apart to see more of her. She yields easily for him, splitting with a sticky click to reveal your quivering hole and your fat clit already peeking coyly from its hood. “Oh, she's so pretty, baby,” Eddie praises, his mouth watering and his cock jerking in his tight jeans, stiffening further against his zipper. “And she’s so wet already. Bet I can make 'er spit for me." 
You coo, and he lifts his head to see you biting your lip through an eager grin. "Yeah? You excited for me to touch you?" Eddie chuckles, equally fond and condescending. "Aren’t you just a sweet little thing."
“R’you gonna eat my pussy, Eddie?” you ask, and the question is so dirty but your voice sounds so goddamn innocent that he can’t help but chuckle again, this time in disbelief. 
“Yeah, baby,” he rasps, palming himself quickly over his jeans to try to bring relief because his dick is suddenly so fucking hard it aches. “I’m gonna eat your pussy.”
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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Hey um if it's cool could I request, Welt, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Gallager and Aventurine reacting to reader to questioning their interest in them?
An example: The confession
Them: I have feelings for you Reader: ... Um *shocked*.. I feel the same but.. *trails off* Them: but? Reader: *squints* you sure? About me? Please reconsider your choice. Them: ...
thank you if you decide to do this! No pressure though!
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Jing yuan would raise a brow before vaguely asking you to come with him somewhere he had been meaning to show you for a while and thought that now was the perfect time.
The place where he takes you was just like any other flower garden you’ve been to before but from the way the light glinted off of the waters surface, to the way the flowers blossomed in a variety of unique colours, and other small things like that made the flower garden look ethereal.
Jing yuan chuckled at your expression.
‘You see why I brought you here?’ He asks.
‘…no, not really, why?’ You replied, looking at him in confusion.
‘I’m trying to show you that while you may not think yourself as anything special, much like this flower garden, there are a multitude of unique things tailored to you that make you shine in the eyes of the ones who views you highly.’ He responded as he lends his hand out for a bird to perch on and softly smiled as it moved up to his shoulder where it sat comfortably, trying its hardest not to fall asleep.
‘For every flower is a beauty to behold regardless of their shapes, their size or their colour that even a daffodil can be considered of equal beauty of a roses in someone’s eyes.’ Jing Yuan continues, looking at you from the corner of his eye to see whether his words were sinking in. ‘And my flower believes themself to be a withering daffodil but to me, they’re a rose unlike any other. Stubborn, strong willed, but.’
‘But?’ You echoed, nervousness creeping through your veins as Jing Yuan moved in front of you and leant forward so that he was right next to your ear.
‘But they refuse to accept words of their worth and beauty from someone who cares about them very much, but I hope to change that soon enough, if they let me.’ He whispers as he presses a kiss to your cheek and pulling away to plant a kiss to your forehead.
Dan heng
While he’s happy that you felt the same way towards him, but felt his heart sink when you told him to reconsider his feelings for you.
‘If you are not ready for a relationship, then I understand, but I wish that you wouldn’t look down upon yourself when you’re anything but what your mind is telling you that you are.’ He says as he holds your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as his eyes shone with concern. ‘Just know that I’ll always be by your side to resolve any issue you may have, for I do not wish for you to be burdened by this alone when I can help lessen it’s impact on you.’ He adds.
Dan Heng would do anything and everything in his power to make you see just how much you meant to him, even if it meant asking March to pull up pictures where his infatuation with you was glaringly obvious.
He would bring you poetry books and read out verses that perfectly describe his innermost thoughts and feelings towards you and how he views you on a daily basis. Dan Heng feels as though he could never convey just how truly unique and magnificent you were on his own. He’s tried but compared to the works of acclaimed poets, it just lacked fluidity in terms of the flow of words.
Everything else fades away when you entered his peripheral vision, almost as though he was made to notice your presence no matter where you were, only to just stare at you with a look that could only be akin to someone who had just found their other half after so long.
Welt would sit you down somewhere and want to talk about it because he truly didn’t think that these were your own words coming from your mouth.
He believes they were someone else’s and he hated that you had started believing this person’s words as reality, when they were the furthest thing from the truth in his eyes.
He wants to help you unlearn what everybody else has thought of you in the past because it doesn’t matter, their words hold no weight until you allow it to. No one’s perception of you was in any way shape or form a reflection of the real you, for every person you’ve ever had a positive effect on posses a different perceptions of you.
The only person who knew the real you was you but it was obvious to Welt that you might’ve forgotten who that version of you was by worrying yourself to death about the thoughts and opinions of everyone else. So Welt was more then happy to help you see that you were so much more then what you think.
He doesn’t know who wronged you in the past but they’ve left everlasting damage on your tender soul, but he was going to do everything he could in his power to show you the you that he sees every time upon seeing you.
Gallagher
‘I’ve got nothing to reconsider when it comes to you sweetheart.’ Gallagher was quick to tell you as he grabbed one of your hands, squeezing it. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘But-‘ you started.
‘No ifs, ands or buts.’ He interrupts you. ‘You’re prefect the way you are and I won’t hear otherwise because I’ll always go out of my way to remind you as to why i care about you, okay?’ He says as he lifted your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. ‘Just let me take care of you and get rid of those pesky thoughts residing in your head by telling them to fuck off.’
You couldn’t help but chuckle at this as you allowed yourself to find comfort in Gallagher’s side as you were greeted by his bodily warmth that made you into melting further against him. ‘I just don’t want to be a bother to you that’s all.’ You murmured, insecurity making your throat tightened, rendering it hard to swallow.
Gallagher felt his heart break for you as he brought his arms to your waist to rub soothing patterns into your side as he presses his face to the side of your head, pressed reassuring kisses there as he whispered sweet nothings as to why you were perfect, beautiful, sweet and caring of all whom you come across, whether they were deserving of it or not.
Aventurine
He understands more then you knew because the moment you admitted to liking him in the same breath as berating yourself, he was about to ask what was it about him that you liked exactly.
You were both in the same boat that was about to capsize from your shared self hatred for yourselves, but Aventurine would be damned if he let you think of yourself in any negative light when you’ve been nothing but a beacon of pure, genuine light for him since first introductions.
He’d much rather be the one drowning in self doubt than you.
He’d have you stand in front of a mirror and asks what you see.
‘Someone who’s lost themselves along the way,’ you answered solemnly, ‘someone who’s lost sight of who they once were because they were too caught up in the opinions of others and waiting on them hand and foot, only to revive nothing but scraps.’ You added and Aventurine couldn’t help but feel himself becoming infuriated, not at you but at the people who have made you feel as though you were lesser than, who made you feel as though you should be outcasted because you didn’t fit into their narrative.
However the sound of your sniffling brought him out of his need to get back at these people for you and saw that you were beginning to tear up and was quick to wipe them away before they fell. ‘Don’t weep for people who don’t have a heart, for they’ll always think themselves superior by materialistic means that they will inevitably loose to time and bad decisions.’ He tells you as he rests his head on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirrors reflective surface. ‘You on the other hand have something that they could never hope to obtain via money.’ He adds.
‘And what’s that?’ You asked, looking into his eyes and noting that despite their dullness, they were still the most beautiful and expressive pair of eyes you have ever seen.
‘Empathy, humility, compassion, kindness and an appreciation for the simple things that many overlook and possess the ability to see the beauty in broken things.’ Aventurine replies, his voice becoming soft towards the end, clearly referring to himself, as he held onto you tighter as though you’d slip from his grasp much like everyone else had. ‘So don’t compare yourself to others who should be looking towards you as an example instead.’
You moved your head to properly look at him, not use to seeing this side of him, so serious and determined to make you see reason. ‘You really mean that?’
Aventurine smiles as he kisses you on the nose, chuckling. ‘Of course! You’re my good luck charm, I’d be hopeless and in a whole lot of trouble without you.’ He says as he presses another kiss to your nose, adoring your expression as you scrunched up your face, muttering under his breath. ‘Cute.’
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littlemissmiller · 24 days
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𝑀𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑌𝑜𝑢
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Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
Summary: the summer before you graduated college, Joel Miller became a regular at the bar you worked. he was perfect except one small problem…you already have a boyfriend
Warning: 21+ (drinking), fluff, slight age gap (reader is in her early 20s and Joel is 30) smut, oral (f receiving) p in v, slight body worshipping, porn with plot
Word count: 5.2k
A/N: i did it! i finally wrote a fic to live up to my blog name! i’m so proud of this one y’all like omg…i love it, it’s so perfect. such a cute lil fluffy smut (≧◡≦) ♡ also still can’t get over the fact that people like my little hobby, so thank you for all the love! it only encourages me to write more. speaking of which, i have so many stories for the summer coming up, especially with tom blyth coming back as billy. i already have a few stories started so hopefully they will be out sooner rather then later. ok that’s it i have nothing more to say. enjoy ❣︎
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It was your last summer before graduating college and being home made you want to cherish your last year even more. You were looking forward to it and ready to be done bartending so you could see your friends and have some real fun. Sure, this job made you a ton of cash, but being home was nothing in comparison to being with your college friends in a town totally catered to you and your fellow students. Although your hometown had its perks. At least it used to. Your longtime boyfriend had never left your hometown or went to college. He had instead opted for going into a trade and becoming an electrician.
Your relationship was strong at first, but every semester it became harder and harder to navigate. Time after time you had convinced yourself that he was still your best friend, but meeting new people in college and getting to experience the joys of youth on your own for the first time, had given you a lot of perspective. So every birthday, holiday, and summer, you felt like you were coming home to a completely different man. Yet you stayed with him because you really wanted to make it work and you told yourself you loved him. Yet something unexpected had happened. One evening at work, a group of men came in to watch the Rangers game. That’s when you first met him and that’s the night Joel Miller would become a regular at your bar.
He was clearly older, at least thirty, but you couldn’t help but practically gawk at him all night. And you couldn’t help but think that Joel was eyeing you too. But you felt a wave of guilt overcome you. You knew you shouldn’t feel like this. You knew you shouldn’t be staring down another man like that but you couldn’t help it. But his arms looked so strong, like he could carry you effortlessly. You couldn’t help the way you smiled every time he would share a boisterous laugh with his friends. His own sweet smile drew you in and you noticed he had the cutest cheek nimble on top of it. From his big chiseled nose to his perfectly crafted jawline, he was an absolute Adonis. Just then another wave of guilt washed over you and you tried to shake away your feelings of disloyalty as you walked into the kitchen, putting their food order in.
As you walked out of the kitchen and brought them their next set of drinks, you tried not to look at him so much but it’s hard not to. Then he spoke up.
“Hey darling? Could I get some more napkins when you get the chance?”
“Yeah sure!” You scurried off and came back immediately
He smiled at you as he thanked you which made your heart flutter. As you made your way back to the kitchen, another server catches up to you.
“Who’s the handsome cowboy at 13?” She asked
“Oh” you started “I’m not sure. Are you talking about the man in the white shirt?” You lied acting like she was talking about someone else
“Girl, don’t play. I can see him undressing you right now”
You glanced over, and caught him smiling at you while he sipped his beer. You started to smile back, when the guilt hit you again and you turned back to your co-worker.
“Oh…yeah…h-he is handsome yeah…but not like I’m interested.” You lied again
“Okaaay whatever you say…” she said unconvinced, rushing off to her table
Joel and his buddies left around 9 and you noticed that Joel leaves the biggest tip out of everyone. Around 10 o’ clock you clocked out and headed to your boyfriend’s house where you had planned on spending the night. Once you arrived, you walked straight into his room where he was playing some PC game. His back was towards you and he didn’t notice you at first with his big headset on. You hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek. He startled and you jumped back.
“Woah! Hey! Your home” he remarked, clutching his chest, barely glancing at you “Jesus you scared me.”
“Clearly” you giggled
“God don’t sneak up on me like that. Could have cost me the game” he sighed, as he returned his full attention to the screen.
“What ya playing?
“COD” he remarked dryly
“Are you gonna be finishing soon?” You inquired
“Ahh probably not. I figured you’d be too tired to hang after your shift so I told the boys I’d be on tonight.”
“I thought you said we would watch a movie after work tonight?”
“Oh yeah, I mean I don’t know I just kinda figured you’d want to go to bed when you got home. Plus you fall asleep to every movie we watch together”
“Yeah” you sighed in disappointment, wanting to follow it up with “but that’s not the point.” You knew he’d get upset at you for pulling him away from his game. “I just want to cuddle you.”
“Ok ok I got ya. I’ll be in bed soon, ok.” He said halfhearted, still not looking at you.
You changed into a pair of sweat shorts and an old shirt and got ready for bed. As you climb into bed you want to cry. And you questioned your guilt from tonight. Maybe it was because it had been a while since a man seemingly flirted with you that made you realize just how lousy your boyfriend has become. When was the last time he genuinely made you feel special? You fell asleep, but were woken up by small kisses on your neck, but your boyfriend began to move more aggressively, trusting and grinning his crotch against your ass. At that point you’re too tired for sex, and all you wanted was for him to hold you and care for you.
“Mmm babe I’m really tired” you whined
“I thought you wanted attention?” He asked, continuing his actions. You pushed away slightly but he continued, only pulling you closer against his chest.
“I do, just not like this. Not right now ok? I just want to sleep.”
He sighed, turning over
“See this is why I don’t want to do a movie with you. I knew you would be too tired.”
“That’s not…” you wanted to finish your sentence again and say “that’s not fair” but once again that would probably upset him and now he was annoyed with you so you don’t want to push it. “I just want to sleep now ok.”
“Ok. It’s fine. Goodnight.” He huffed, falling asleep.
The next couple of shifts your mind is preoccupied by your newfound feelings about your relationship. Your boyfriend wasn’t abusive by any means, but it was clear the relationship wasn’t healthy anymore. That’s when the crying at work started. Mainly because you had just come from his house before each shift and every interaction with him pained you. The only thing that kept you from continuously calling off was Joel. Almost every shift around 5 o’clock he would come in, order a few beers, maybe something to eat, and chat it up with you.
By the third week, all your co-workers were teasing you about him. Whenever his truck would pull up in the parking lot, someone would come get you.
“Your cowboy is here!” Someone yelled out to you, stepping out of the kitchen. You left the servers station to greet him.
“Hey Joel! Mich Ultra? You asked
“You know it darling. How you’ve been?” He smiled, causing you to practically melt into a puddle. You gathered yourself and smiled back at him.
“About the same as the last time you saw me.”
“And still as beautiful as ever.” He winked
“You flatter me Mr. Miller. I bet Mrs. Miller is one special lady hmm?” You asked more or less trying to see if he was actually flirting with you or just being nice.
“She would if there was one.”
“Oh I thought you said you have a daughter?” You questioned more
“And a man can’t be a single dad in this world? How sexist of you” he chuckled sarcastically
You rolled your eyes at him and laughed along.
“I just thought such a handsome cowboy as yourself would have a beautiful gal to go home to.”
“I wish…” he sighed, eyes giving you a once over
“So where is she then? Your daughter? If not with her mom. You know we allowed kids in before 9 right?”
“Yeah, she just has soccer practice at this time three days a week. I figured why not wait for her to be done and come see you since I’m out and about.” He explained
“Ain’t you just a charmer.” I’ll get you that beer.”
You walk over to behind the bar and fetch Joel his beer.
“He’s just all over you” one of the bartenders remarked
“And he tips well too.”
“Gee I wonder why��� they smirked, giving you a look “how does your boyfriend feel about him?”
“I mean he’s just a customer. They flirt all the time and who doesn’t like the extra cash?” You started quickly
“Mhmm sure” they said
You walk back to him, bringing him his beer and continuing to chat with him. He ordered another beer then left to go pick up his daughter Sarah.
Now every time at work shift, it felt like an escape. It also felt like a fantastic secret that only you knew about. A fantasy being played out in real life. Joel was so charming.
Even though he was older, his youthful demeanor shone through. He was caring too. If he wasn’t asking about you and your life, he was talking about his daughter. You could tell she was his world. He absolutely adored her, and you loved to listen to him go on and on about her. You didn’t quite care what your co-workers would say or how your boss didn’t like that you hovered around his table, sometimes neglecting your other ones.
But he couldn’t complain too much given Joel was a respectful, paying customer. And a great tipper. And he would always leave a little note on his receipt. Nothing too flirtatious, just innocent enough to toe the line. This went on for a couple more weeks, your boyfriend none the wiser. Not like he was paying much attention to you anymore. Every note, you would take them and make sure to hide them when you got home. You stored them in your sock drawer and kept them secret like everything else about him. You still felt guilty though and realize that you need to end things with your boyfriend. It’s harder than you thought and truthfully you don’t know how to leave someone you’ve cared about that much. And been with for so long. But talking to Joel made you realize what you needed. And what you wanted. And you wanted him. And something told you he wanted you too.
Then back at home, living with your boyfriend it was a totally different reality. He felt so disconnected from you, so indifferent. And the more you faded away from him the less you felt like you really loved him still. And he noticed you pulling away from him. One night, you came home and had kept another one of Joel’s receipts.
“See you Wednesday :) Joel”
You left your server book out on his bed, along with your purse and hopped into the shower without thinking. When you got out of the shower, your boyfriend was sitting on his gamer chair, nose deep in your server book. You froze and tightened the towel around you nervously.
“Oh hey babe. When did you get home? I thought you and the boys were having a boys night? “
“We decided to just get dinner instead. What’s this?” He asked, holding up the receipt.
“Oh, just one of my regulars. Don’t worry about it.” You giggled, trying to play it cool reaching for the book. He holds it back from you and stands up.
“Who’s Joel?”
“My regular” you repeated
“Oh yeah. I bet he tips you well hmm? Pays you lots of attention?” He asked accusatorily.
“I-he…he’s just a regular we get them all the time.”
“Yeah, but you said he is one of YOUR regulars. Why yours? Why is he writing you notes?”
“He-he just always sits in my section I don’t know. That’s not too unusual…and a lot of customers write thank you notes and stuff I can’t control them!” You insisted, readjusting your towel again
“You expect me to believe that?”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes.
“Why are you acting like this?”
“Well I don’t need creepy men hitting on my girl at work.” He barked back
“He’s not creepy and you’re being ridiculous.”
“Oh then what is he?”
“He’s just a customer!” You argued even though it was a lie
From that moment on, your boyfriend had grown highly suspicious of your relationship with him and Joel. Wednesday rolled around and Joel showed up again as expected. You nervously approached him as he sat down.
“Well hey their sugar” he smiled
“Hey Joel” you replied, only giving him a half smile
He searched your face and could tell something is up.
“You ok?”
“Yeah, just life stuff. So Mich Ultra?”
He nodded and you walked off. His eyes followed you, watching you as you went to the bar. You came back and gave him his beer. You wanted to set it down and walk away, but Joel’s concerned eyes beckoned you to say.
“Thinking about food?” You asked him
“Maybe. I’m sorry doll, I don’t mean to pry but if I did anything to put you off-“
“No Joel of course it’s not you it’s just…relationship issues” you huff
“Sorry to hear that sugar. I hope y’all can work it out”
“I hope so” you sigh, knowing it’s a lie.
Just then your boyfriend storms into the bar. You don’t notice him at first, but then you hear a set of heavy footsteps approaching towards you and you look up. Confused, you call out his name.
“What are you doing here?”
“Can’t visit my girl at work anymore?” He asked glancing at Joel
“Excuse me.” You mumble to Joel, walking over to him and grabbing his hand. You lead him out of the building.
“What are you doing?!” You shouted
“Is that him? Is that Joel?” he sneered
“Why do you care all of a sudden hmm? You’ve barely paid attention to me in the last few months. What happened to us?” You nearly sobbed.
He sighed and shook his head
“What do you want from me? I mean I’m frustrated with you too if that helps. You have completely shut yourself off, don’t tell me shit! I’m upset too! Especially that I know you’re flaunting yourself around weirdo old men.”
“Stop! That’s it, I can't do this anymore. I’m so scared to tell you anything because of how you act when I share your feelings. When I come home, you ignore me and frankly it seems like you only give me affection when you want to fuck me!”
He rolled his eyes and scoffed, throwing his arms up.
“Oh my god! You over exaggerate everything. Is this why you’re acting like an attention seeker? Because you think I don’t pamper you?”
“Unbelievable. Pampering really…you know what I’m not arguing with you! I’m done! We’re done!” You shout and storm back into the back
“Done? Really like that? Four years done like that? Fine whatever, be that way, I know you don’t mean it. I’ll see you at home.” And he storms off back to his car.
You wanted to cry as you stormed back into the bar, but you held yourself together.
You tried to hide your clearly upset face as you rushed back into the kitchen and into the back alley next to the dumpsters. Joel noticed and ran out of the bar looking for you. He searched around the building then he called out to you.
“Hey. What’s wrong.”
You can’t help it. One look at him, and you ran into his arms. He embraced you, holding you tight.
“Hey my little firefly…what’s wrong?” He asked, his sweet southern drawl falling like your tears.
“I loved him Joel… why do people stop loving you back…” you sobbed
Joel gently stroked your hair, attempting to calm you down. It didn’t feel strange to be held by him. You felt safe, and comfortable in his arms, despite barely knowing him or even having any interaction with him outside of work, that moment felt right.
“I don’t know darling.” Joel sighed
You eventually gathered yourself and go back inside with him. Your boss thankfully didn’t notice your absence. Joel returned to his table and you returned to your other patrons. After his beer, Joel left and you didn’t really get a chance to see him leave. When you went to collect his tap you saw another note this time with his phone number and it read:
“Gotta go get Sarah. Call me if you need to talk”
Your heart dropped. He had finally given you his number and at the same time you still felt guilty. Even though you had, despite what your now ex-boyfriend thinks, finally ended your relationship. And here the opportunity was. Right in front of you. You look at the receipt, take it, fold it and immediately put it in your pocket to keep it safe. You clock out at ten and are all too eager to get into your car to call Joel. Once you do, you dial the number and it rings.
“Hello?”
“He-hey Joel it’s me…” you uttered
“You ok darling?” He asked sweetly
Maybe it was his voice, the question, or the fact that the weight of the burdens of your life seemed to have fallen apart around you, but you cried again. Letting it all out and at the same time feeling better than ever.
“Hey hey hey” Joel whispered “I just put Sarah to bed…why don’t you come over here? We can talk ok?”
You nodded and sobbed.
“Ok…”
Joel texted you his address and you put it into your GPS. It’s only about a ten minute drive to his house and when you pulled up, you nervously exit your vehicle. You walked up the front door and knocked quietly, not wanting to wake Sarah. A moment later, it swung open and Joel’s handsome face looked at yours with deep concern.
“Come on in.”
You nodded and walked into his home. As expected it’s much nicer than your boyfriends, but then again Joel is an actual adult, with a kid, and mortgage to pay off so it was to be slightly expected. It wasn’t too fancy, just your standard suburban home. You walked over to the couch and Joel followed you.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Honestly I need something a little strong. Got any whiskey?”
He smiled ear to ear.
“Ya betcha.” And he rushed off into his kitchen.
You made yourself comfortable and tried to relax as you looked around Joel’s living room. You curiously strode over to his bookshelf and read the titles. Lots of history books, a few fiction and then you noticed the framed photo of him and his daughter. You realize you’ve never seen a photo of her, but she’s just as beautiful as you could have imagined. You smiled and Joel caught you in your curiosity.
“She’s been my little gem since day one. Just me and her. I don’t think I ever told ya, but her mom left us so…” he remarked.
You looked at him, smiled and nodded.
“She’s beautiful, Joel. You’re a great dad.”
Joel sat the glasses of whiskey down on the shelf and reached for your hand. You gasp slightly, look at where he’s touched you and then look up into his eyes. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.
“You asked me why people stop loving people back and ya know, I still don’t have a good answer for that. I guess it’s because I’ve been asking myself the same thing for the last twelve years.”
“Joel…you’re such a good man…” you sighed, squeezing his hand.
“You’re too kind darling.” He smiled
“No really.”
You stared at him for a moment. His eyes searched your own looking for what he suspected you wanted from him. He cupped your face and he leaned in to kiss you. His lips fit perfectly against yours, like he was made for you. It was perfect and passionate. He was so gentle, yet you could feel how badly he had wanted this moment with you. He pulled back for a moment to make sure he hadn’t crossed the line.
“Got a bedroom?” You smirked
Before you knew it, Joel was crawling on top of you and you took off your shirt. At the same time he was busy frantically kissing your neck and jaw. He tossed it off and Joel took a moment to admire your chest. He gasped and reached to grope your breasts. Your soft, perky mounds fit perfectly in his hand and he began to massage you. He was in utter awe of you. Almost overwhelmed that he was getting to have you like this. You stared back up at him, equally in awe at that moment.
His big brown eyes melted your heart and all your troubles melted too. Fuck your lousy ex. All you wanted and needed was Joel. He kissed you again as he continued to play with your breasts. You let out a few giggles that turned into harsh, sharp moans as he moved his mouth down your body.
“Fuck…” you whispered, the word dancing around the room.
As his lips trailed you, your body reacted, your hips bucked and you were practically squirming under him. When his mouth found your cleavage, you felt the heat in between your legs grow stronger.
He continued to kiss you, only breaking away to take off his own shirt. He was toned, his skin smooth and he was unbelievably broad. You couldn’t help but admire the way his collar bone met his neckline. It was clean and sharp. You tried not to think of your ex, but in comparison he was not as fit as the gorgeous man in front of you. You placed your hands on his chest and felt his pecs, running your fingers down to his abdomen. You leaned up to kiss him again. His lips were so soft and addictive. You could’ve kissed him all night, but your desires beckoned for more. He held you up slightly and flipped you over. As he did he unhooked your bra and you let it fall off your chest. He tossed it on the ground and admired your bare chest for the first time.
“You’re so gorgeous. “ he uttered as your hair fell in front of you.
He pushed it out of the way and cupped your face. He pulled you back down to capture your mouth once again, lightly gripping the back of your neck. Your bare boobs pressed down against his chest, a feeling which you love. Skin on skin, the close intimacy and the feeling of being wanted more than just something to fuck. That’s how your ex had made you feel the last few months when you and him had sex, so being touched, cherished by Joel made your head spin. You weren’t used to it and you could feel your body reacting to the unfamiliar sensations. Joel noticed.
“Baby, you ok?”
You blushed at the nickname, smiled and nodded.
“It’s just been some time since I felt like this.”
“When’s the last time he touched you?”
“I-I mean we would have sex once or twice a week…”
“When is the last time he really touched you though. Made you feel special?”
You simply stared at him speechless and tilted your head.
“You know what, forget about him. Just focus on me. Let me make you feel good like you deserve.”
With that, he decided to be bold and reached for your mini skirt. He pulled it down past your hips and you lifted them up so he could pull it off you. He tossed it on the ground with your bra and his hands immediately moved to cup your ass. He squeezed the pillowy flesh as you moved your hips. You could feel him getting hard under you and you eagerly reached for his belt. His hands moved up to your waist, rocking you more. You undo his belt and he lifted up his hips to take off his pants. He slid them off along with his boxers, revealing his length. It was perfect. Just the right size, the mushroom tip red and swollen. Encouraged by his actions, you slide your panties off and you are both completely bare in front of each other.
He soaked the sight of your naked beauty in, eyes trailed over all your curves and edges. You were simply divine to him, a work of art. He runs his hands back up to your chest, briefly groping them, his eyes completely focused on your face. You grab his cock and began slowly stroking it. His mouth drops slightly as he watched you. He tilted his head back on the pillow briefly, before he looked back up to watch you. His breathing became ragged and you picked up your pace. You start to move on top of him, guiding his cock to your entrance, but he stops you.
“Let me get you wet.” He insisted, grabbing your hips and flipping you again. Immediately, he kissed down your body, worshiping you. “You’re so perfect. If you were my girl I’d never stop showing you how perfect you are.” He muttered in between kisses.
He kissed your inner thigh before he experimentally rubbed your clit. You gasped, your hips bucked in his face. He smirked at your reaction, loving how you responded to his touch. Taking that as a sign you wanted more, he gently kissed your slit. He gave you another one and another one until the little pecks of his lips turned into the sloppy mess of his tongue. It had been ages since a man had gone down on you like this. Your ex-never warmed you up beforehand anymore, too eager to satisfy his own desire and pleasure. Joel knew how to be a real man. His tongue and lips suck and rub at your core. He moved his head too, adding to the friction. You reached for his brown locks, desperately in need of something to hold onto. He hung onto your hips and he moved you against his face. He moaned against your core, eating you out like you were the most delicious meal of his life. He pulled back, out of breath and drunk in your juices.
“Could taste ya all day darling.”
You nodded as he inserted a finger in you, twisting it. He slowly pumped it into you, curling it up as he added another finger. He watched as your face scrunched up in pleasure. He sped his hand up, totally focused on getting you to finish.
“Joel…Joel…Joel…” you chanted “Gonna cum”
He nodded and worked you a bit more until you tightened down around his digits. You came hard, the euphoria rushed through your body like a roller coaster.
“So beautiful oh my god.” He praised, rubbing your thighs.
He crawled back up to you. He kissed you letting you taste yourself. You hadn’t felt this kind of passion in a while, this intense feeling of intimacy.
“You ready? He asked, slowly rubbing your clit again.
You nodded as he lined himself up with your slit. You felt as his cock pushed past your folds and stretched you out perfectly. You gasped and he kissed your cheek feather light. He cooed at you as he slid in, hitting the back of your cervix. You gasped, which turned into a raspy moan that floated from your lips. Joel cupped your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek. You two shared in the silence of your pleasure for a moment, taking in how good the other felt. He moved, slow at first then he sped up. He felt so full inside you, and you lost yourself in the sensation of his length. You could have stayed like that all night, the steady motion of his cock pumping into you was pure bliss.
“Does that feel good?” Joel inquired lovingly
“Yes, please Joel I want more. I need more of you.”
Per your request, he gave you more, slightly giving into his own desires to want to ravish you. But given it’s your first time with him, Joel didn’t want a sloppy, lustful encounter. Yet, he picked up his speed, his length now hitting the back of your walls at an almost brutal pace. Joel makes sure to keep checking in on you to make sure you’re okay or that it doesn’t hurt too much. You panted and panted as he continued, gripping onto his waist with your legs, pushing him deeper into you. He moved a bit more then flipped over. You smiled at him, slightly out of breath.
“I want to see that beautiful body riding me. Is that ok?”
You nod enthusiastically, slowly starting to move your hips. Joel’s hands groped your ass, rocking you on him more. He sat up, pressed his lips firmly against yours and held you tight. You started to bounce on him which elicited a guttural moan from his lips. He moved his hand to your hips, looking up at you in awe.
How could anyone not treat you like the absolute treasure you are?
Joel thought and wondered to himself as he held you. He couldn’t believe that your ex-boyfriend would neglect you. What a foolish man, but now he had you. In the exact moment he had imagined. He had you. He moved his hips in sync with yours. You steadied yourself on his shoulders, ecstasy, providing you escape. Your breath hitched as you feel his cock stiffen more inside you. He was close. You didn’t want it to end but then again you had a feeling this wouldn’t be your last encounter with Joel. A few last rocks of your hips and he was spent. He pulled you off him abruptly as he shot his load onto his stomach. You caught your breath, resting your forehead against his. You held his jaw in your hands, settling your hips.
“Joel…” you whispered, the words ghosting over your lips.
“Yes darling..” he whispered back
“Y-you have no idea how much I wanted you like this.”
“I know. Me too, but not just like this. I want you. All of you. Can I please have it?” He nearly begged
Your enthusiasm took over you and you planted a spontaneous kiss on his lips.
“Yes Joel…you can have all of me.”
꧁✩★✩꧂
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1K notes · View notes
babyleostuff · 2 months
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baby, you’re a drunk mess
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fluff 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!wonwoo x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 958
. . . being drunk is not that bad when you have wonwoo to take care of you
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wonwoo knew exactly how this night would end the second he received a message from seungcheol, inviting you over for a drink. it never ended with only a drink. 
„baby, lean on me,” wonwoo grabbed you tighter by your waist, as you stumbled over your own feet, trying to act as if you weren't totally waisted. “i’m going to kill mingyu for making her play that drinking game”. 
„m’ fine,” you mumbled. „see, i can walk on m’ own,” you took his hand that was resting on your hip, and shoved it away, taking a step forward. wonwoo smirked at your weak attempt to push him away, considering you were drunk out of your mind, but your confidence that you were so much stronger than him was truly comical. he knew he shouldn’t have let you go, but maybe if you eventually ran into a wall or something you’d cooperate better because there was no way he’d get you home with you acting like this. 
wonwoo could only shake his head in amusement, while following your every slow step. there was no way he’d actually let you fall. „you’re doing great, sweetie, but let me help you, hm?” you whipped your head around, glaring at him. „i can do it,” you hiccuped, „on m’ own,” you said, but as you took another step, you stumbled once again, falling right back into your boyfriend’s embrace. 
„are you done?” he shifted you around, so he could hold you properly, taking most of your body weight on him. you nodded, and put your hands around his bicep, finally calming down. wonwoo slowly started walking towards your apartment, holding you tenderly, and even though he didn't have to see your drooping eyelids, he could feel your energy dropping with every step. 
somehow he managed to open the door and get you to the bed without either of you falling over. "okay, now let's lie down," he said quietly so as not to startle you, seeing that you were already half asleep. you nodded weakly, and with his help, you finally managed to lie on the bed.
wonwoo stroked your head gently and kissed your slightly sweaty forehead before turning on the bedside lamp next to the bed so he could turn off the main light and enflug your room into soft darkness.
„wonwoo,” you called softly. 
„i’ll be right back baby, we have to wipe your makeup off.”
after turning off the light, he quickly went to the bathroom where he took all the things he would need to put you to sleep. "i'm coming," he said, grabbing one of his t-shirts and hoodies from the closet in case you were cold at night (especially since he knew that when you were drunk you became clingier and wearing his clothes always made you so happy). 
he put all the things on the bed and grabbed your hands. "come on honey, you need to change." happy that you were cooperating so much better than you were fifteen minutes ago, he easily helped you change into his clothes and placed you back on the pillows so he could wash off your makeup.
“you don't have to do this, wonwoo,” you whispered, but when he placed a cotton pad on your face, you closed your eyes and sighed, grateful that you had someone who could take care of you so well. "Was I very insufferable today?"
wonwoo didn’t even move, he just continued to focus on your face, slowly removing more of the makeup from your face. "you're never insufferable," he said. "don't ever say that."
"i know, but i feel like i ruined your night because you have to take care of me and-"
"do you want me to get mad at you?" he asked sharply, looking straight into your tired eyes. "you didn't ruin my night. being with my brothers and you at the same time is the biggest gift from the universe, no matter how drunk you are. i'm your boyfriend, i'm here to take care of you, just like you take care of me ,” he said, throwing out a used cotton pad. "should i remind you how many things you do for me when i'm busy at work? how you prepare my food for rehearsals, and how you do my laundry when i'm too tired to do it? when you listen to me complain for hours about how exhausted i am?"
"baby, drunk or not, i will always take care of you, and not because i have to, or because it's my duty, but because i love you," he said with sincerity in his eyes, and despite your not-so-sober state, you didn't miss his look full of love. "seeing you having fun with my friends means everything to me." you nodded slightly in understanding. what did you do to deserve jeon wonwoo?
"okay, make-up removed, clothes changed, do you need anything else?"
"maybe water?"
"of course, let’s just get you under the covers."
after covering you up, wonwoo went out to the kitchen to get a glass of water and painkillers for tomorrow morning and returned to your bedroom.
“okay, now we can-,” his words faltered when he saw you already asleep, your hand on his pillow, and you snuggled into yours. he placed the glass and pills on your bedside table quietly, and turned off the light before lying on his side of the bed, lifting your hand and placing it on his stomach. almost as if you knew in your sleep that he was next to you, you placed your head on his chest, treating it like your new, comfy pillow.
"i'm a drunk mess," you whispered after a while, kissing his jaw.
"yes. but you're my drunk mess."
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taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings
2K notes · View notes
iceunhie · 9 months
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voicelines about you: as their lover !
featuring: imbibitor lunae, jing yuan, gepard. (+ jingliu and kafka)
notes: headcanons! some might be ooc HELP. i couldn't resist writing for hsr man… also jingliu and kafka sneak bc mmm i love morally questionable women 🤩. gn!reader. reader is not trailblazer. some fluff, some angst (?) kinda. reblogs are very much appreciated!
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Imbibitor Lunae (Danheng IL)
About [Name]: They're one of the few people who's never condemned me for Danfeng's sins, nor ever tried to get me to own up to them. Their presence is very comforting to me. My lover? *coughs* Y-yes, they are.
About [Name]: Selfies Aside from March, [Name] always seems to ask me to take photos with their camera. Hm? No, I don't really mind. If it makes them feel happy, then that's enough reason for me to agree.
About [Name]: Photo Albums [Name] made an Express photo album with March yesterday. Yeah, pictures of our adventures and memories, according to them. It's in the Data Bank, so just ask me if you want to take a look at it.
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Gepard Landau
About [Name]: [Name] is the most amazing individual I've met. Their determination and their will to pursue their goals to the fullest… I'm proud to call them my lover. Oh, ah… Was that too forward?
About [Name]: Lending a Hand Oftentimes, Serval asks [Name] to help her carry some things for her workshop. Although the times I get to personally help out are rare due to my duties, I still make it a point to support them by asking the Silvermane Guards to keep an eye out for them and help carry my sister's things for them if it's too heavy. Of course. They're always my top priority.
About Serval: Nagging Every time Serval stops by my post, it usually means [Name]'s run into some difficulties, which I try to help them out in. While her telling me about my lover's state is greatly appreciated, she always nags and teases me being a fool for them and… *sigh* No, it's alright, really. I'm thankful that my sister cares about [Name] and goes out of her way to talk to them for me. Still, I do hope her nagging would decrease next time.
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Jing Yuan
About [Name]: Hm? [Name]? Yes, they're indeed my lover. Hehe, now that you've brought them up, I should go look for them. I'm afraid I've grown so used to the feeling of laying my head on their lap that no other pillow can suffice. Ah, what a predicament…
About [Name]: Spending Time Together While I do enjoy dozing off, [Name] makes a point to let me rest at a more appropriate place, instead of at the Seat of The Divine Foresight, buried under a mountain of paperwork. Oftentimes, I do as they say, but when I'm not and just craving their presence… Heh, now that's another matter entirely.
(BONUS! - Yanqing's Voiceline) About [Name]: Oh, [Name]? They always give me some extra allowance for buying swords, buying me sweets and food I like… Of course I won't say no to that! Sometimes, them being with me when I'm being scolded by the General for my expenses helps a lot. Probably because they're the only one the General can't say no to.
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Jingliu
About [Name]: ….Do you really think you have the right to know about them? This is a warning. Try to ask again and perhaps you'll be faced with the end of my blade as my answer.
About [Name]: Soothed The whispers of the marastruck, succumbing to the Abundance… They are the only one able to calm the storm of my thoughts. For that, I am grateful for their patience and their kindness.
(BONUS 2! - Jing Yuan's Voiceline) About Name: While Master's current state is one of irreparable damage, at the very least… She has someone to hold onto while she grapples with the curse of mara. Even if I don't quite believe she's the Jingliu I knew from before, I know that her feelings for [Name] are sincere. I just hope she doesn't end up hurting them in the process.
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Kafka
About [Name]: Aha, now thats a question I didn't expect to hear from you. My lover? Yes, [Name] is that to me. I very much enjoy their love and affection, you know. Even if it isn't on the script, I'd still mention them. Quite romantic of me, no?
About [Name]: Trophy They always, always chide me about me ruining my velvet coats when we finish up a script. What's wrong with a little blood? I keep most of them as trophies. There's one I'm especially fond of, too. They think it's rather embarassing that I keep the coat from the time they got injured on the job. Although the stains have long since turnt black, there's still a faint scent of iron in it. Hm? What do I mean by that? Heh, let's just say I don't take any harm coming to [Name] lightly. While they call it a reminder of their lack of caution, I'd rather call it a little show of my affection~
About [Name]: Destiny's Course Elio refused to tell me about what my future with them would be, saying that the path in that choice is quite difficult to discern, and I think it's for the best. I suppose if [Name] decided to leave the Stellaron Hunters, hm, would locking them up till they can't leave me anymore suffice….? Haha, just kidding. I wouldn't let them leave in the first place.
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© 𝐌𝐇𝐈𝐈𝐄𝐄𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.
4K notes · View notes
reilemon · 1 month
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🫧Love Don't Be Shy🫧
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♡︎ pairing: Rafayel x fem!reader
。°⚠︎°。MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)。°⚠︎°。
♡︎cw:unprotected sex (as always), there's only one bed, sex toys, pulling out
♡︎word count: 2.9k
♡︎synopsis: Rafayel finds your mini "neck massager" while going through your makeup bag.
♡︎a/n: I hope you guys like how I wrote Rafayel.
♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this
banner by @cafekitsune
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A defeated sigh leaves your lips. You have to share the bed with your friend (employee?) Rafayel. You just nod when Rafayel checks with you if it's okay, and of course you agree because you don't want to go around searching for another hotel.
The last time you had to share a room, and the bed, you barely got any sleep as he was tossing and turning all night, stealing the duvet in consequence. You couldn't be too mad at him as you know how messed up his sleep schedule is. Also, he was so sweet for remembering your comment how you wished to see a certain spot at that place.
This time is no different; he organized this little trip for you to make good use of your vacation days. He researched all the restaurants that you'd like, shops that he'd like, fun and interesting places to visit, and always takes the best seats in the airplane. But he always forgets to book two rooms in advance!
It's not that bad, you tell yourself. You're very comfortable around Rafayel; he makes you feel safe and he adores spending time with you. It's just that you have your own night routine. And you can't do it with him in the same room.
Oh well, the vacation will fly by quickly.
Even with this little inconvenience, you wish it won't. Not because you don't want to get back to work, but because you also adore spending time with him. And lately, with every meeting you hope to become more than just friends (more than just an artist and his bodyguard).
⋆ ˚。⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚。⋆
After unpacking Rafayel and you go outside to grab a quick bite at the city centre. Of course that turns into an impromptu shopping spree because the two of you stumbled upon a vintage flea market.
You drag your feet as Rafayel almost skips next to you, bags with little trinkets in his hands. It's a beautiful summer afternoon, with a refreshing breeze. You'd enjoy it more if there weren't so many people around.
He glances at your 'energetic' walk. "C'mon Miss Bodyguard, we had a good time there!"
You chuckle. "Sure, if you can call 'talking you out of buying everything you see' a good time."
"But everything was so beautiful!"
"Yes, but think of the luggage!"
He shifts his bags to one hand and offers you the free one with a soft smile. "Give me your hand. I don't want to get lost."
He says that, but he's the one leading you through the crowd.
⋆ ˚。⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚。⋆
You had to take a little nap after coming back to your room, because Rafayel had more things planned for this evening, and you needed the energy. You wanted to look and feel good because you actually looked forward to it. You might've even bought some new outfits that you thought he'd like, even though he gives you compliments no matter how much effort you put into your appearance.
While you were asleep, Rafayel took a long shower.
When you awoke, you found him in your room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.
You blush and avert your gaze, opting to just not comment on it. "Are you at least wearing underwear?" You commented on it.
He looks down, like he forgot about his state of almost-undress. "I do. Wanna check?" His hand resting on the towel knot.
Your hand immediately shoots up to cover your view of whatever he's about to show you. "It's fine! I just didn't expect this to be the first thing I see after a nap!"
He laughs and strolls towards the closet. "You saw me in a bathing suit plenty of times. This towel covers more."
You can't help but sneak a peek at his toned back while he's picking out an outfit. For someone who claims to hate working out, he's more than fit. You can clearly see the way his muscles are carved under his pale still damp skin and the way they flex as he moves. As he turns around, you can’t help but crave to graze your hand over his defined abs and those veins leading down to -
"Like what you see?"
Caught red handed, you snap your head in the opposite direction, your face burning with embarrassment.
"I'll go take a shower." You mumble as you snatch your underwear and a nightdress from a drawer and escape to the bathroom, blushing even more as you catch Rafayel's mischievous laugh.
⋆ ˚。⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚。⋆
Refreshed, and not at all embarrassed anymore, you emerge from the bathroom to get your makeup bag. You don't know whether to put the outfit on before the makeup, or the other way around...
Your brain short circuits when your eyes land on Rafayel holding your makeup bag in one hand - and your mini vibrator in the other.
He holds it up and studies it "Is this like a mini neck massager?"
You're frozen in place. Your body is discovering new levels of embarrassment.
Hearing nothing from you, his attention shifts to your figure. You don't register the way his eyes admire you in your little nightdress. "Well?" He presses the little button and the little buzzing sound hits your ears like crashing waves of sweat hitting your body.
He's teasing you. He has got to be teasing you. Like he always is. There's no way he thinks this is for his neck!
"Give it back." You croak, your throat dry.
"Why? You don't want to show me how to use it?" He's really going through with this little bit.
"Why were you even going through my makeup bag?"
He explains how he forgot to pack some cream and wanted to borrow it from you, or something like that, you barely listened because he was not letting go of the little bullet vibrator. He's put down the makeup bag, but not the toy!
The buzzing gets stronger as Rafayel's finger presses the button multiple times. "So, which setting is the best?"
He flinches as you basically hurl yourself towards him to take back what's yours. He holds it in the air, away from your reach.
"What's up with you?" his eyebrows knot, cheeks lightly red at the close proximity.
"Give it back!"
Finding your frustration confusing but at the same time cute and amusing, he continues to keep it out of your reach, letting you chase him around the room.
"Nuh - uh!" he laughs and turns to you, only for his face to be met with a white fluffy pillow.
You smacked him across the face, not too hard of course; you're still his body guard. You earn a little 'hey!' with a flushed face and to defend himself, he puts the toy in his pocket and grabs his own pillow. You didn't even notice how good his outfit looked.
The two of you end up in a brief pillow fight - mostly him taking hits while you managed to dodge most of them. But then Rafayel swiftly snatches your pillow, and pins you down on the bed, holding your wrists in his hand and resting his knees on the bed.
He asks, out of breath "Is it not a neck massager?" While you were in a pillow fight he caught on how red your face is and how that shape doesn't seem like it's for the neck.
You struggle under him, aware of how your nightdress lifted under the impact, and how your breasts are on the verge of spilling out. A small whine leaves your lips in frustration as he's so much stronger than you.
"Yes! It's my vibrator, okay?" you can't meet his gaze. You're sure you look so damn pathetic right now.
But you don't see the delight in Rafayel's eyes as he takes in your cute flushed pouting face. He can't help but take a peek of your figure under him, the way your tits are barely covered, the hem of your dress lifted to show off your plush thighs pressed together.
He releases his hold on you and sits back, still straddling you. "Is that why you were upset over one room? You could've just told me and I would've taken a walk or something. Maybe even get you a snack to replenish your energy."
You could not be more mortified. Your eyes are still fixed somewhere to the side and your lips don't move.
His fingers softly hold your chin and you muster the courage to look him in the eyes. You notice how messy his curls are. "There's nothing to be ashamed of." He reassures you with a soft smile, and hands you over the wretched thing.
And you loved that about Rafayel - he knew when to stop teasing and when it's time to give you reassurance.
Still, you needed your little revenge.
It doesn't matter that he's stronger than you, you still have your hunter skills, and in a blink of an eye, you switch positions, straddling his lap.
He opens his mouth to make some dirty joke but only a yelp gets out when you suddenly press the buzzing toy on his side while locking his wrists with your hand.
He pleads for mercy as you continue to run the vibrator on second to highest setting all over his torso.
A blush creeps up on your cheeks, and heat pools between your legs as his whimpers and gasps keep leaving his plump lips and his body squirms under you, his crotch grazing your bottom.
Flustered and out of breath, Rafayel had enough of the torture and pins you down again - pressing you in the same position you had him in, but with his knee so dangerously close to your clothed heat.
"You're being cruel, kitten." he breathes, his tone a little too calm for your liking.
He takes the toy from you and starts sliding it down the middle of your belly, the contact making you squirm and laugh a little. "I was being supportive here and you go and start torturing me."
"I was embarrassed!" you scream between laughs and pants.
He complains in his playful manner about how you attacked him while he was so confused, you can barely hear him over your involuntarily laughs. In your squirms and attempts to break free, your core grinds more than once against his knee and upper thigh.
And maybe he's inching his knee closer to you.
You open your eyes when you don't feel the tickles anymore. You're met with his soft hooded eyes.
"I want to make it up to you, darling."
He studies your face as his hand moves up and a gasp leaves your lips as it lightly grazes the underside of your breast over with the vibrating toy.
He repeats the same motion on the other breast. "Do you want me to stop?"
You sheepishly shake your head.
The grip on your wrists loosens, but you let him hold you down.
Finally, he gives attention to your already pebbled nipples, carefully rubbing circles around them. His eyes take in your flushed face - beautiful lips parted as you pant underneath him, eyes veiled with lust and desperation for more, sensitive nipples poking through the thin fabric of your nightdress.
Your panties are damp with the attention on your nipples and core grinding against his knee. And with Rafayel on top of you, with his cheeks flushed, messy hair and half lidded eyes gazing at you with adoration, you crave more.
He doesn't need to read your thoughts to know what you need. Your hips are desperately pressing against him, soaked panties leaving a wet patch on his pants.
A playful smirk stretches his lips, but he fights the urge to tease you. Instead, his hand trails down, avoiding your tummy this time, and presses the toy on your inner thigh, earning a jolt from your legs and a whimper from your lips. With his slender fingers, he lifts up the hem of your dress, exposing your panties.
You feel his knee move back, but still touching your clothed heat. Pressing the button for the lowest setting, he places the vibrating tip of the toy right between your folds, the familiar sensation of the vibrator making you moan. Only it's different now, because Rafayel is the one pressing it against you, the one making you feel so good, which makes you cream, your heart beating against your chest, your face and chest burning with need and desire.
With more confidence, Rafayel starts pressing and slowly rubbing your sensitive bud. "You like that princess? Does it feel good?"
You frantically nod, your pussy already throbbing with an impending orgasm. "Just like that!" You manage to breathe out.
His cock is painfully hard in his boxers, straining in his tight pants. He feels like he could cum just watching your beautiful face dazed with lust and listening to your sinful moans. Soft pants are leaving his lips "Fuck, you're so beautiful."
He releases your wrists to rest his elbow next to your head and he dips down, latching his lips with yours. You reciprocate immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck, relishing in the feeling of finally tasting his gorgeous pink lips.
Both of you are a panting mess, kissing sloppily, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as your tongue intertwines with his.
And all of this is becoming too much for you, and you already feel the coil in your stomach is about to snap any second. You snatch the collar of his shirt, probably ripping from how tight you're gripping it. "Don't stop, I'm cummin' - !"
He watches you in awe as you tremble and mewl underneath him, unable to kiss him back as the waves of your release overtake you. His lips latch onto your neck as he uses his thumb and knee to help you come down from your high. His breath is trembling as he sucks and licks the sensitive skin on your neck, his face burning and cock throbbing.
He almost whines in your ear "Please, please princess, I need to fuck you so bad..."
Your fingers interlace with his messy curls and he lifts up his head to meet your eyes. His cheeks and ears are burning red, eyes pleading and hooded with lust.
You softly whisper "I need you."
The same second he hears those words, his working hand frantically works his belt and the pants, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as his hot leaking cock is freed. He wants to take his sweet time with you, worshipping you, but he's already on the brink.
And you're so impatient; you pull your panties to the side and take his cock in your hand and tease the tip against your dripping pussy, the action making the man above you whimper.
"Fuck, princess!" He moves your hand away and squeezes the angry red tip. "Watching you got me so worked up, I don't think I'm gonna last long." He admits with a weak smile.
You pull him into a soft kiss "That's okay, you already made me cum so hard."
He kisses your lips and slowly starts sliding in, a gasp leaving both of your lips. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut as he eases into your sopping cunt.
You bite his delicious bottom lip as he buries himself to the hilt, your walls fluttering around his cock and you feel like you're about to cum again. You release his bottom lip and you move onto kissing his jaw and neck. Fuck, he smells so good.
He stays still as he tries to hold onto his sanity. His hot breath fans over your ear "You're squeezing me so hard, doll."
You wiggle your hips and press his lower back, urging him to start moving. Exhaling a shaky breath, his hips slowly start rolling, yours moving at the same pace. Mewls and moans are leaving your lips, as his cock keeps stroking the sweet spot inside you, glazing his length in your slick.
Rafayel needs to make you cum around his cock, but he’s already so painfully close, with your wet walls squeezing him so hard, your pretty lips on his neck and your bewitching voice in his ear.
He was so captivated by you that he almost forgot about the little toy lying next to you.
Your eyes widen when you see him snatch the toy and turns it on to a higher setting and props himself up, angling his hips to reach your swollen and twitching bundle of nerves. Intense shocks of pleasure take over your body as he starts rubbing the vibrator again, and in seconds you're a whimpering mess as his cock thrusts into you, repeatedly hitting that sensitive spot, and his hand pressing the toy on your clit.
"Raf - I -" Is all you manage to say before another orgasm overtakes you, your breath catching in your throat and for a second you think you're going to pass out. You can barely hear Rafayel's soothing and strained whispers of you how gorgeous you are and how pretty you sound.
But hear him whimper "I'm gonna cum, princess."
He tosses the drenched vibrator to the side and with a squelching sound pulls out of you, and your hips twitch as he presses the tip against your still throbbing clit as he jerks himself off, ropes of hot cum spilling all over your belly and drenched cunt. You’re thankful he pulled up your dress in the process, but you wouldn’t mind if he stained it.
After both of you take a moment to catch your breath, he puts his weight on you and you wrap your arms around his back squeezing him tight.
He peppers you with soft kisses all over your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. His fingers caress your face.
He chuckles with that playful smirk on his lips. "I should snoop around your stuff more often."
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Note
Coriolanus x commander's daughter!! I've never seen anyone writing this but that would be so hot and forbidden
Request: Getting manhandled by peacekeeper!Coryo or getting fucked while he's in uniform or both YES PLEASE
Note: Birthdays should be spent doing the things you like...so I finished this one today. Enjoy!!
Warnings: 18+, uniform kink, semi-public fingering + oral (f receiving), forbidden relationship,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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Coriolanus Snow made a lot of stupid choices in his eighteen years of living, but having an affair with his commander’s daughter took the cake. The clandestine romance was risky and could, at extreme extent, get him executed for inappropriate conduct, but the fire that surged through your whole body every time you were together was addicting. 
The first time you saw him, you were searching around for your father, having a message to deliver to him in person from the head commander. You kept your head high and stayed on your guard as you walked through the heap of peacekeepers in training, not wanting to look like a lost puppy among them. 
You could usually find your way around the base, but today was scorching hot, so you decided to look for someone who would be kind enough to help you get to him. 
A row of younger soldiers caught your eye. They were doing push-ups in their singlets, beads of sweat dripping down the side of their faces. As you were trying to pick which shaved head you were going to ask help from, one of them stood out near the end of the line. 
Walking up to him, you couldn't help but silently admire the way his arms would flex as he continued the push-ups. Damn. Your stomach clenched at the sight. 
‘’Excuse me?’’ You cleared your throat and he looked up, surprising you with the prettiest pair of blue eyes. ‘’Could you help me find Commander Hoff? I have something to deliver to him from the head Commander.’’
The blond cocked an eyebrow, uncertain if he should be helping you. It was his first time seeing you on the base. ‘’And you are to him..?” he prompted, staring you down as his mind embarked a sinful roller-coaster of thoughts. 
‘’His daughter.’’
Although well aware of the dangers, Coriolanus couldn’t stop seeing you. And neither could you. You were addicted to his mouth and the way he could lift you up with ease and fuck you while standing, how his toned chest felt under your palms and attractive he looked in his blue uniform. 
After you bid your parents goodnight, you changed out of your day clothes and ventured to where you knew all peacekeepers spent their nights at. You didn’t know for sure that Coriolanus was at the Hob, but the barracks were all empty and he didn't have many friends in District 12 besides Sejanus, so it seemed likely he would be there.
It didn’t take long for him to notice you in the bar, your dress brighter in color and certainly shorter than the locals. Your eyes met across the room for a brief moment, then you disappeared through the backrooms, confident that Coriolanus would follow suit. 
You could hear his boots on the floors, slowly catching up to you. Your heart quickened its pace behind your chest, excitement building. 
It wasn’t until you made it outside that he called you out. ‘’What are you doing here, Miss. Hoff?’’ he asked, his voice echoing in the dark alley. 
Your feet came to a stop. 
Coriolanus stepped forward, slowly closing the distance between you. ‘’The Commander wouldn’t want his darling daughter in a place like this.’’ Your back was now pressed against his front, an agreeable warmth in contrast to the night air. Coriolanus’s mouth moved to your ear. ‘’A place full of men who would like nothing more than dipping it in your tight cunt.’’
His words should have disgusted you, but they were speaking the truth. These men inside were drinking more than they should and no one was really stepping up for the women they were harassing. With the skirt of your dress hitting above your knee, some could associate it as provocative or inviting. 
You turned to face him, biting your bottom lip when you noticed his uniform button up partially undone, revealing a glimpse of his white undershirt. 
‘’I shall accompany you back to the base.’’ Coriolanus grabbed you by the arm, but you protested. 
He was much stronger than you, so he easily grabbed both of your wrists with a hard squeeze and pinned you against the closest brick wall. You gasped, then quickly realized what game he was playing and you’d be damned if you didn’t play along. 
‘’Are you going to arrest me, Mr. Peacekeeper?’’  
Coriolanus’s grip on your wrists tightened, a stern command following.  ‘’No talking.’’ 
You could feel your own wetness starting to pool between your legs, aroused by the unfolding situation. The game. The play of power. 
His other hand moved from your waist to your hip, slipping underneath the fabric of your dress. He went over the curve of your ass before venturing between your legs to rub you over your panties, but he was met with a surprise. Coriolanus cocked an eyebrow. ‘’No panties tonight?’’
‘’I was hoping to run into you.’’ 
‘’Naughty girl.’’ His fingers started moving over your folds, coaxing a needy moan from you. 
Your jaw dropped as he pushed two long fingers in, making you clench around them. Coriolanus did a scissor motion, then curled them inside, eliciting another moan. ‘’Fuck me.’’  
Coriolanus shook his head. ‘’Sorry, darling. I don’t take any commands from civils.’’ 
‘’Please.’’ 
You could feel his smug smile behind your neck as the words left your tongue. ‘’What would your daddy say if he knew what his little girl was begging me to do to her?’’ Coriolanus pushed his fingers deeper, making you mewl, so needy for him. 
He withdrew his fingers, letting you assume he was going to unbuckle his pants and finally take you, but Coriolanus turned you around and sank to his knees in front of you. The dirt on the ground will dirty his uniform, but he didn’t seem to care. Coriolanus looked up at you, then hooked your leg over his shoulder, leaning forward to kiss the inside of your knee.
You slipped a groan of approval when his mouth got closer to where you wanted him. Then, his tongue ran between your folds, circling your clit slowly. A loud, desperate moan echoed around the dark alley. Coriolanus pinched your thigh, a silent reminder to be quiet. He loved when you were loud, but the Hob was full of peacekeepers. If anyone were to see you together, Coriolanus would be in trouble.
His huge hands sank into your ass, squeezing at the same time he sucked your clit into his mouth. You reached to grab onto something, to keep you from being so loud, but found nothing other than Coriolanus’s buzzed head. 
‘’Coryo…’’ you whimpered.
In the matter of minutes, he had turned you into a whimpering mess. Back arching away from the wall, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
One of his hands moved from my ass, and when you looked down, a pair of blue eyes was staring back at you. They stay burning into you, watching you closely as two of his fingers slide into you, finding that one perfect spot in less time than you need to say his name. 
His pace increased as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, perfectly coordinated with his tongue. If the wall wasn’t holding you up, you would have toppled over by now. The feeling kept building, the heel of your shoe digging into the hard muscles of his back as you desperately tried to move your hips to ride his fingers. 
You were wound so impossibly tight you couldn’t breathe. ‘’Coryo, I’m going to cu—’’ 
You didn’t even get the words out as every part of you spasmed, everything tingling and throbbing as you tightened around him. Below you, Coriolanus moaned, the taste of you welcomed on his tongue. 
When he removed his fingers and mouth, he leaned back so he could look up at you properly. He grinned like a devil, his lips glistening with your juices as he sucked his fingers into his mouth.
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watchmegetobsessed · 1 month
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BEHIND BARS
A/N: this fic is my coping mechanism with my own shit and im more than eager to read your thoughts, because it would help me knowing im not alone with these thoughts. so this one goes out to all the big girlies who struggle with loving themselves!
WORD COUNT: 9k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: You get stood up by your Tinder date, but at the same time you run into a man who works at the bar and seems to be into you. Or that's what you think when you read his message he wrote to your receipt, asking you to return to the bar the next day.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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You harbor the delusional thoughts of your date getting caught up in something… anything, just a tad more, just so that the heartache comes a few moments later. It stings, probably more than you’d ever admit to anyone, but you can’t help it. 
Sitting on the barstool in the dimly lit bar you glue your eyes onto your pornstar martini, the second you’ve had since arriving an hour and about five ‘Where are you?’ texts to Brannon before. All of them sit delivered but unread in your messages. You reach for the glass and finish the drink in two big gulps, the alcohol bringing an almost numbing sensation to your closed up throat, but it fades rather fast. 
What hurts the most is that this is not a first date. He met you just three days ago on the coffee date you two arranged once you were over just exchanging messages on that awful dating app you always swear to never download again but end up back on it at one point. It’s not like he would have walked in tonight and could have a shock about your looks, that you do in fact have quite some extra weight, your thighs are thick, curving into your ass that might look good on a better day, but only if it’s covered, because every time you look at it the only thing you see is the stubborn cellulite you can never get rid of. He saw that you’re miles away from having a flat stomach, you weren’t blessed to be the kind of big girl who has a slim waist and beautiful round waist. You often stop in front of the mirror to assess how big your arms look if you wear something sleeveless, how your collarbones only show if you put your hands to your hips and force your shoulders forward to bring them out. 
He saw all of these. Yet he suggested meeting again, pulling you into a ridiculous dream that he might be different and you could finally have the burning, passionate love you’ve always dreamed about.
Now it feels more like a nightmare. 
“Another one?” 
The bartender appears in front of you, one hand on the counter, the other one on his hip as he looks at you with a questioning look. You glance up at him, then at the empty glass and decide to just fuck it and get drunk before going home and raging your fridge for whatever comfort food you can find. 
“Sure. Bring a shot as well.”
“Vodka, tequila, rum or…?”
“Vodka sounds fantastic,” you breathe out as you square your shoulders and run a hand through your hair.
The guy nods and then disappears again. While he is making your drink you decide to have a trip to the bathroom. You wave at the bartender to let him know you’ll be back and when he nods you make your way to the back. 
You chose the bar for tonight, it’s a nice place, feels intimate and… hot, maybe that’s the word you used when you were here with your girlfriends a few weeks ago. It was the perfect spot for a girly night, but the vibe of the place definitely doesn’t limit it to a strictly feminine spot. There were plenty of men around even then and one mysterious man sent over a whole round of drinks, he remained unknown but he was probably enamored by one of your friends.
You were convinced Brannon would like this place and you could see the two of you curled up in a booth, finally overstepping the awkwardness of being around someone you met online. 
Once you’ve done your business you stop in front of the massive mirror next to the sink and have a moment to look at yourself in the overhead lights that bring out everything about your body that you usually fight hard not to think about. You hate it how one inconvenience can make you feel so… ashamed. Hopeless. Worthless. 
Truth is, you’re tired. You’ve had enough of these experiences, though it’s only your second time getting stood up, but it goes under the same cases of going completely unnoticed by men in a social setting, ending up instantly in the friendzone no matter what you do, getting the talk of ‘but I see you as a great friend, I hope we can stay friends’ whenever you dare to come clean about your feelings for someone. It sucks the life out of you and you’re not sure if you have any more left to keep trying. Because the chance of ending up alone anyway has been looming over your head for way too long to ignore it and if it ends up being your reality, you’d rather not waste any more time and energy on trying. 
When the tears start stinging your eyes you turn on your heels and head out, not wanting to have a full blown breakdown in the middle of a bar. Stepping out to the hallway you’re just about to march back to your previous spot to chug down your drinks shamelessly, but you weren’t expecting anyone to be right outside the door, so you collide into someone just as your heels hit the carpeted floor outside the restroom. 
It’s not at all the gracious kind of collision, where the man scoops you into his arms and holds you against his chest to stop you from falling. Out of reflex, your hands do find the guy’s chest, but you push yourself away from him fast and panicked, your back hitting the door that just closed behind you and you’d bet a good amount that your expression reeks of shock and the sadness from previously, which is not a gracious combination. 
“I-I’m sorry,” you exhale sharply as your eyes take in the man in front of you. 
Tall, well-built in a black, fitted suit with a black silky shirt underneath the jacket, the first few buttons are left undone, teasing a glimpse of tattoos and a thin necklace with pendants hidden from your vision. His brown hair is trimmed, but not enough to conceal how the strands curl and swirl. Pink lips curl into a smile and you can’t decide the color of his eyes because it’s too dark here, but they appear to be light, even despite how big his pupils are as he is staring back at you. He is holding up his hands in front of him, as if he is readying himself to catch you if you decide to fall anyway. 
“In a hurry?” he asks and his velvety british accent caresses your ears. You blink at him for a couple of moments dumbly before finding your voice to reply.
“No,” is all you say, to which his smile just widens and you catch his eyes dip down, running along your body before they return to your gaze. 
“Be careful then, Angel.”
“Sorry,” you breathe out, finding your balance again as you’re unable to look away from him. 
He is the kind of man that catches every female’s attention upon walking into a room, who could easily just cherry pick who he wants, because women line up in front of him just to earn a glance from him. He looks elegant and lively at the same time, but you instantly feel a sense of mystery and darkness linger around them even despite his warm smile. He is nothing like the men you ever dealt with and he is… way out of your league. 
Lifting your chin you spare him with one last look before walking away, fighting the urge to look back if he is still there or maybe you just imagined him. 
Your drinks are already waiting for you by your seat and you down the shot before you could climb back to your seat. Given the fact that you came with an empty stomach, the alcohol has started working its wonders on you. You feel a low buzz in your chest, a slight numbness in your head and you know the martini in front of you will be your last drink if you want to make it back to your place. 
Your thoughts are still circling around the man in the hallway when you spot him again from the corner of your eyes. Down at the end of the bar, he is talking to the bartender who’s been serving you. His jacket is gone, so you see the silky shirt hanging elegantly from his frame, the fabric shimmering in the light that comes from behind the bar, illuminating the wall of expensive bottles showcased. The sleeves are rolled up, revealing that his left arm is heavily tattooed, but the other one has something as well, but half of it is hidden underneath the shirt. 
He is helping the bartender unload some bottles into the fridge that’s underneath the counter as the talk. When they are down to the last one he stands up and runs a ring-clad hand through his hair and his eyes move up and catch your gaze before you could look away and pretend like you weren’t ogling him. Your cheeks burn up right away as you snap your eyes back at your drink in front of you. With silent prayers that he won’t come closer, you busy yourself with the only thing you can do: drinking. But just as you lift the glass to your lips you see a black form walk up to where you’re sitting and you can’t stop yourself from looking up at him. 
“Can I get you anything else?” he asks with a charming smile, his hands planted onto the counter in front of you, giving you the chance to see the veins running underneath his smooth skin and for a split second you can’t help but imagine what it might feel like to be held by those hands. 
“Um, no, I’m good. Thank you.”
“Good,” he repeats, but it drips with something else, something more, something… heavy. “Waiting for someone?”
His question came out of the blue, you weren’t expecting him to strike up a conversation and start it with that. Your muscles tense and suddenly, after being so drawn to keep looking at the man in front of you, it becomes your priority to avoid his gaze at all cost. 
“No,” you say shortly and take a sip, no, a gulp from your drink. 
What you don’t see is how his face darkens. The smile fades and his eyebrows draw together as he lets his hands fall from the counter and move to cross over his chest. 
You expect him to move away from the rather tensed and awkward scene, but he remains standing in the same spot until you notice him turn around, but just to grab two shot glasses, he fills them up with something that could easily be vodka again, but you wouldn’t know because you don’t see the glass he pours from. Then he turns around and places the shots onto the counter, pushing one a little closer to you. When you look up, you see his head a bit tilted, waiting with a questioning look and an unknown sparkle in his eyes that are green, now you’re sure. 
“Oh, I shouldn’t… Um…”
“Just this one. As an apology on behalf of the piece of shit who is too blind and idiotic to see what he missed out on.”
Your breath is caught in your throat as you stare back at him. For a second, you let yourself believe that there’s more behind his words, that there’s attraction, lust and desire. For you.
But then your usual mechanism kicks in and your mind is quick to turn it around and convince you it’s not at all like that. He just feels sorry for you, it’s only pity, because a man like him would never be interested in a woman like you. 
“Sure,” you whisper with a nod and take the shot. He takes his and holds up, waits for you to do the same. 
Then he gives you a nod with a charming, crooked smile and your eyes remain locked on each other as you both take the shots. It’s vodka and it burns, but you don’t even flinch as you put the glass back onto the counter and watch him snatch it away. He is just about to say something when the bartender calls out for him from the end of the bar, but because you weren’t listening, you miss what his name is. He looks back at you once more and then walks away. 
You don’t see him for the rest of the time you spend there. Finishing the drink you ask to close your tab and then you’re getting ready to leave when the bartender slips the receipt over to you. At first you don’t even pay any attention to it, but then you notice something is different about it. You grab it from the counter and then read the words scribbled onto it with a black marker.
Please come back tomorrow.
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You feel like an idiot all day. Trying to keep yourself busy by cleaning and cooking, no matter what you do you always find yourself looking at that damn receipt, reading the words over and over again. Since you left the bar yesterday until this moment, you’ve thought of every possible scenario why he would ask you to return. Realistic ones, ridiculous versions, you thought of them all, but somehow you always ended up settling on the same one, even despite the fact your mind has been fighting hard not to let you believe he could want anything from you. 
It grinds your nerves all day until you decide to act on it. You put on a pair of jeans and a simple black shirt with your trusty sneakers, nothing extra, very far from looking fancy and then head back to the bar before you could talk yourself out of it. 
It’s the afternoon on a Sunday, it’s no surprise the place is deserted when you walk in, only a handful of people are lingering around here and there in contrast to the buzz it had yesterday. You try your best to settle the uneasy feeling in your gut as you walk up to the bar. There’s a woman standing behind this time who you didn’t see last night. She’s drying glasses with a cloth since there’s not much to do without anyone sitting on the stools. 
“Hi, what can I get you?” she asks with a bright smile as you walk up to her. 
“Um, I was wondering if the guy who worked last night was working today? Brown hair, tattoos… I don’t… know his name.”
It’s an understatement to say you feel awkward asking around about the guy even though he practically asked you to come back. At least he could have given you his name to avoid appearing like a stalker. 
The woman furrows her eyebrows as she purses her lips, tilting her head.
“I swear I’m not here to make a scene or anything,” you add with a nervous laugh. 
“Ah, I was just thinking. Because I know for a fact that Nico was working last night, but he for sure has no tattoos.”
You swear you saw the tattoos on his chest and arms, you did not just imagine those, but now you’re doubting yourself.
“He, uhh, he wore, like, a black suit and a black, silky shirt… Rings…” This is as far as you can go describing him without adding details you’d rather keep to yourself. Like how his hands looked delicate but rough at the same time, the way his lips curled when he smiled could push all the air out of your lungs and his smooth, velvety voice was like you were wrapped into a warm, soft blanket whenever he talked.
Luckily, you see her face light up at the last few details you just said.
“Oh! You must be…” She doesn’t finish it, just lets her smile stretch wide as she squares her shoulder. “Let me grab him for you,” she then winks and before you could get another word out, she disappears. 
Laying your hands flat on the bar top you start drumming nervously as you wait. A thought flashes through your mind that it was a mistake coming here, trying to convince you to just leave before it’s too late, but you fight it and shove it to the back of your head, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you pull your hands back and start rubbing your palms against your thighs. 
A few seconds later the woman appears from the back with the same wide smile and just when you start to think the man is not here, he follows her out, turning your sanity upside down with just a simple look. 
He is wearing a black t-shirt this time, short sleeved, putting his previously mentioned tattoos on perfect display. The shirt is tucked into a pair of gray dress pants that hug his waist so well, you’re drawn to stare at his body for a few moments as he moves closer behind the bar. 
The bartender woman passes you while the man stops in front of you, a cheeky, but genuine smile tugging on his lips as he leans onto the counter just like how he did yesterday, only this time you see his muscles flex from the movement thanks to the short sleeves. 
“What a pleasure to welcome you back.”
Your knees threaten to give up for a second from hearing his voice again, as if it’s proof that you didn’t just make him up last night, he is not just a mirage. 
Reaching into your purse you pull the receipt out and slide it over to him. 
“You invited me back.”
“I did,” he nods, not even glancing down at the piece of paper, like he doesn’t need to be reminded of what he did. “But I didn’t know you’d actually return.”
Unsure what to say, you allow yourself to assess him, take in his perfectly carved features, the unruly curls, the rings adorning his inviting hands. If you were on your own, just looking at a picture of him, you’d definitely tell yourself it’s too good to be true that a man like him would ever pay you any attention. But having him standing in front of you, feel his burning gaze on you, this magnetic pull that vibrates from him, you’re battling yourself harder than ever.
“I was curious,” you admit at last. 
“Then I’m happy to satisfy your curiosity. Why don’t we sit down?” he asks, gesturing towards one of the booths by the wall.
“Won’t you get into trouble?” you ask, but he just gives you a toothy smile as he shakes his head.
“Don’t worry about that, Angel. Go ahead and sit, I’ll make us a drink.”
Once you’re turned away and walking towards a booth you let out a long, shaky breath. 
“Get a grip,” you tell yourself as you slide into the booth and try to get comfortable. It’s frustrating a man could have an effect this powerful on you after barely even talking to him. What kind of black magic is he practicing?
A few minutes later you see him walking over to you with two drinks in his hands. One is obviously a pornstar martini for you, the other one you don’t know. It’s in a simple, short glass, one big cube of ice, the drink itself is a nice amber color, you spot a curl of orange peel and some fresh rosemary in it. 
He slips into the booth with ease and moves closer to you than you expected as he places the drinks to the table. 
“Might be best if we started with our names,” he suggests. “I’m Harry.” 
His name rolls off his tongue so ravishingly, you have to stop yourself from repeating after him. He holds out a hand for you that you take. Your skin starts tingling the moment it meets with his warm touch.
“Y/N.”
“Such a pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he nods, giving your hand a squeeze before letting it go. 
While you feel a bit awkward, trying to find a way to sit beside him, it appears he is quick to find his place, crossing one leg over the other, his arm closer to you is stretched over the back of the booth, his hand falling somewhere behind you, but it’s not touching you. His other hand is gently playing with his drink, twirling it between his fingers. 
“I know it’s probably not the best thing to start with, but I just have to ask. Last night, were you stood up?”
All your blood rushes to your head and your palms start sweating as you turn your head away embarrassed. You’ve been so caught up in him that you kind of forgot about what Brannon did. 
“Yes,” you whisper, hands dropping into your lap as you nervously fidget with your fingers.
The hand that’s been behind you moves to the side of your face, his knuckles gently brushing across your cheek, just enough to make you turn your head and look at him. 
“Don’t even think for a moment his behavior lessens your worth.”
“I’m not so sure if there’s any left of that to lessen.”
The words leave your mouth before you could even think them through, surprising you with their bluntness. You’re not one to share such personal thoughts with a stranger, not even your closest friends. 
Harry stares at you with an unreadable expression and you half expect him to just let it slip and not acknowledge what you said. But he sticks to that in a way you never experienced.
“I would give an arm to have the chance to show how much I see just after spending only minutes with you.”
You’re speechless and from the hidden smile you notice in the corners of his mouth you assume he finds it entertaining, witnessing the effect he has on you. He grabs his drink from the table and you watch him lazily take a sip before placing it back and leaning forward, getting closer to you, but still not quite crossing an invisible line between the two of you. 
“Y/N, I know this is very straight-forward and I’m aware that we are very much just strangers at this point, but I’m more than eager to change that.”
“Why?” you hear yourself asking in an airy, weak voice. “Because you’re sorry for me?”
Now it’s his turn to be taken aback. The way he frowns almost makes you want to apologize even for asking. 
“Sorry is the last thing I’m feeling right now. And it wasn’t what I felt when you bumped into me last night or when I wrote that message to your receipt. Or… when I sent over that round of drinks to you and your friends not long ago.”
“You what?”
“You were here, maybe a few weeks ago, with your friends, right?”
“I-I was, but…”
“The round of drinks. I sent it.”
“Why?” you ask again and notice the amusement in his look.
“The same reason I wanted you to return today. Because take my breath away and I never give up on the chance to get to know whoever has that effect on me.”
You stare back at him blankly, a million thoughts racing in your head while also not able to put together a coherent one. It is everything you ever wished to experience, but it also feels incredibly odd and… wrong. 
“What kind of twisted game is it you’re playing?”
Harry furrows his eyebrows slightly.
“None. Why are you questioning my intentions so passionately?”
“Because it’s ridiculous,” you say with a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you grab your drink and take two gulps, hoping the alcohol might help you untangle the mess in your head. 
“How is my interest in you ridiculous?”
“Because it is. You cannot sell me that you spotted me among my friends last time, that I was the one who caught your attention and that when you saw me last night again you just had to take your chance to lure me here again so you could talk to me. It’s absolutely ridiculous.”
He stays silent and you don’t look at him for a bit, trying to calm your rocketing pulse. But his silence starts to drive you mad again, so you turn to face him and see that unreadable expression on his face again. 
“You’re invalidating my attraction just because you haven’t received it before.” 
It’s like he is reading you like you’re an open book, he looks at you and you can feel him raiding through your mind and you can do nothing against it. 
“It’s actually sad but also exciting to be the first one to give it to you.”
“But why me?” you keep pushing.
“Why do you like pornstar martini?” he asks with a cheeky smile and you decide to ignore how erotic that sounded from him. 
“What?”
“You choose it because you like it, yeah? Why?”
“Because… I don’t know, it tastes… good,” you answer, complete confusion taking over you. 
“See, that is why you. I don’t know it just yet, but I just know that…” He doesn’t finish, but you can hear the rest.
I just know you taste good.
The all too familiar pulse between your legs is making you cross your legs underneath the table, but Harry catches the movement and his grin grows wide, but he doesn’t comment on it, just takes a sip of his drink. 
“We took it very intensely quite suddenly. Let’s just talk and we can return to this matter a bit later,” he suggests then softly, losing that tiny cockiness from his voice for now. “What is there to know about you, Y/N?”
You need a bit of time to recover and actually start telling him about yourself. He asks you about your job, your family, your hobbies, what you like and what you hate, all while giving you his full, undivided attention. Even though he has made it clear he is interested in you, somehow you end up taking the situation with even more caution than usually, but slowly and almost unnoticed, it eases from your gut. 
“Now it’s your turn,” you say, once you’ve had enough of talking about yourself. Just as he is about to start talking, the bartender shows up at the table and you’re convinced she’ll ask him to go back to work. 
“Boss, the supplier was on the phone, they need confirmation until tomorrow morning.”
Boss? 
“Thanks Jenny,” Harry smiles up at her warmly. “I’ll take care of it.” The bartender, Jenny as you learned, nods and then disappears. When Harry looks back at you, it’s apparent he was expecting the questioning look from you. 
“Boss? Did I hear that right?”
“Absolutely did,” he chuckles. 
“So you’re…”
“I won this place. Along with another one downtown and two more over on the West coast.”
You click your tongue as you turn away to have a look around, though you’ve examined the place enough before. It’s not the kind that screams ‘this is my first business, it’s doing fairly well’, but rather one that screams wealth and business. The bar itself is definitely high end, but it’s also connected to the hotel above, so it drives in some great traffic from there as well and of course, it’s a five star hotel, so the guests are usually not the kind who shies away from paying for a nice drink. Adding just the thought of three more places similar to this to the picture is just plainly mind-blowing to you.
And yet, just minutes ago you were convinced he’s a bartender here. 
“You knew I thought you were staff when I asked if you’d get into trouble.” Harry nods. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because that would have immensely changed the dynamic.”
“No, I–”
“Yes,” he fights back with a meaningful look. “You had a hard time believing I could be interested in you when you thought I was a bartender here. Had you known I owned this place you would have never let go of the power imbalance that comes with the judgment of my position in my business.”
You want to protest, but you can’t. Because you know it well that he is actually right. 
To ease the sudden change in the mood, Harry starts talking about himself and the business as he can tell you’re curious how he ended up as the boss. He tells you how it all started in college, he and a few of his friends came up with the idea of opening a bar and once they graduated he and the one remaining friend who was still into the idea decided to act on it. Niall, the friend, earned a great amount of money from his trust fund after graduation, which they used to the last cent to open the place ten years ago. Feeling guilty that he couldn’t bring as much money into the business in the beginning, Harry tried to make up for it by working twice as hard. As time passed and they opened the second place three years later, Niall started to wander to different fields and only remained a silent partner in the business, letting Harry take over fully. The expansion on the West coast happened just two years ago, but they are already thinking about the next location.
“Are you still friends?” you ask him.
“With Niall? Yes, absolutely. He has his own company in IT security that he actually started from the money of this business. It’s more his world than this now, but we try to meet at least every month when we are in the same city. And I still need his signature on some stuff,” he adds with a chuckle. 
“That’s great it didn’t ruin your friendship. Working together can be risky.”
“I know. We had our ups and downs for sure, but nothing we couldn’t talk through.”
It was amazing to see him talk about it so profound and passionately. It makes him so… humane. 
His phone buzzes in his pocket and when he pulls it out, he sighs quietly. He ignores the call, but when he looks at you again you know he has to go.
“Y/N, we need to revisit what we talked about earlier, because I have to go soon.”
Your cheeks heat up instantly as you roll your lips into your mouth. 
“What about it?”
“Most importantly we need to talk about when we can meet again.”
You look at him from the corner of your eyes and can’t hold back a smile when you see his cheeky grin as he sits turned towards you, his upper body angled to face you completely. 
“The most convenient would be tomorrow,” he adds shamelessly.
“So soon?”
“I wanted to say I would love to see you in about three hours when we close, but I didn’t want to come off as too eager.”
That makes you laugh and Harry gifts you with a proud, crooked smile.
“Are you sick of this place?”
“Why?”
“Because you could come here tomorrow and I could teach you how to make your drink,” he says, nodding towards your now empty glass. You actually love the idea of that, doing something new in a not so new setting. 
“I can be here by seven.”
“I’ll be waiting for you behind the bar.”
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You have never been this eager to put down work at five finally. It doesn’t matter that you still have a few unanswered emails in your inbox, you decide they can wait until tomorrow. 
You haven’t stopped thinking about Harry since you left the bar yesterday. You can’t even remember the last time you were like this, probably in high school when you had a crush in junior year. It’s ridiculous, honestly, but it’s also quite exciting. 
You walk into the bar for the third time in the past three days. You would have guessed that a Monday evening would be just as eventful as Sunday, but apparently a lot of people like to go out for drinks on the first day of the week. It’s not like on Saturday, but about half of the tables are taken. Crossing the place you’re heading straight to the bar, searching for one particular tall figure, but you don’t see him. 
Nico, the bartender from Saturday, is on shift again, though as you reach the bar he doesn’t seem to recognize you. 
“Hi, what can I get you?”
You’re just about to ask him to tell Harry that you arrived when the familiar, velvety voice speaks up right behind you. 
“I have the lady covered, thanks Nico.”
Turning around you’re met with Harry’s warm but cheeky smile as he stands just a couple of feet away from you. Today he is wearing a pair of black dress pants with a black long sleeve, but the sleeves are rolled up above his elbows. There’s a light stubble darkening his jawline, he surely skipped shaving this morning, but you’re not mad about it, it adds a bit of roughness to him. 
“Welcome back, Y/N,” he nods at you.
“Hi,” is all you manage to push out of yourself. He is very much aware of your nervousness, but it just widens his smile. 
“Ready to master the pornstar martini?” he asks as he steps closer and places a hand to the small of your back to usher you behind the bar. 
“Absolutely.”
The two of you settle at the end of the bar so you’re not disturbing the actual service with your little scene. Harry hands you a black apron and he puts one on himself as well after helping you tie yours behind your back. Then the learning starts.
Harry is actually a great bartender himself. As he gathers everything you need for the drink, he tells you how he learned to bartend after opening the place. They had a few times when they fell short on staff and he needed to serve, so he figured it’s best if he just learns it fully rather than just clumsily mixing up the drinks whenever help is needed. 
“What’s your favorite to make?” you ask as you’re cutting the passion fruit in two on a cutting board and Harry examines your every move like a good mentor.
“I think it’s Rum Martinez.”
“What’s that like?”
“It’s a Japanese cocktail, pretty smoky and kind of complicated to make. I’ve had it twice, it was always served with a cigar. I only made it once though, but it was fun.”
Harry truly meant it when he said you’d learn how to make your drink. He doesn’t touch anything in the mixing process, only instructs you, clear and patiently as you add the right amounts into the shaker. When you put the top of the shaker on however, he moves behind you and as his arms come round you to grab the shaker along with you, for a few seconds you definitely forget to breathe. 
This close you can smell his cologne, the warmth of his body is melting you against him and when you lean back just the slightest bit he pushes forward to tighten the physical connection between the two of you. 
“Alright. Now, this is how you shake it properly,” he murmurs, his face right next to yours as his hands cover yours on the shaker. 
You let him take the lead as he starts shaking, his warm palms holding your hand against the cool shaker, moving it up and down, left and right in a controlled, rhythmic way. He is giving it quite the force, you feel the ice inside tumble harshly as you keep shaking. 
“Okay, now take the cap off.”
He lets go of the shaker, but remains standing behind you as he instructs you. You do as he said and he reaches past you to bring the glass closer for you. 
“Carefully, but with confidence” he murmurs, one hand moving to cover yours when you start pouring, but too slowly, so he helps you to tilt the right amount. The beautiful yellow liqueur fills up the glass with a perfect layer of foam on top. 
“And finally, the passion fruit.”
He points at the fruit on the cutting board and you take one half, gently dropping it into the middle and watch as it stays afloat with pride. 
“There. You just made your first pornstar martini.”
Harry steps away from behind you and you almost protest, eager to feel his warmth behind you as he comes into your view again, watching you bring the drink to your lips. You take a sip and once you taste it, you can’t hold your smile back.
“It’s amazing.”
“All yours,” he dips his head a bit with a bright smile and you can’t look away from his sparkling eyes. 
The foam of the drink sticks to your upper lip so when you put the glass down you run your tongue over, licking it off and you catch him watching your mouth with obvious hunger, as if he is ready to have a taste from the cocktail, but only from your lips. 
The moment burns and you feel it deep in your chest. Almost unnoticed, you both inch closer and you feel an irresistible pull towards him. Your heart is drumming in your throat and the muscles in your torso tense even at just the thought of kissing him. 
But right when you are about to cross the line Nico’s curse pops your bubble and Harry’s head whips around in alert.
“Shit!” you see Nico jump back from the counter, one hand wrapped around the other, a cutting board with lemons and a knife left behind.
“What happened?” Harry asks, grabbing a rag as he steps closer to assess the situation.
“I wasn’t paying attention and cut my finger,” Nico hisses and you step closer just in time to see him showing the cut. It doesn’t look bad, but it’s bleeding quite heavily.
“Go and clean it out. I’ll cover the bar.”
Nico mumbles a quick thanks as he rushes back before he could bleed on anything behind the bar. Just as he exits, two women walk up to Harry, who switches into bartender mode pretty fast. He gives you a quick ‘I’m sorry’ glance as he takes their order and starts mixing up their drinks. You just give him a reassuring smile and focus on your drink, patiently waiting. 
At first you don’t even pay attention to the conversation the two women strike up with him. But as Harry starts serving a man who walked up to the bar after them you notice how they stayed there and it makes you wonder so you turn your attention to their sugar coated voices. 
“Oh, then we feel honored to be served by the big boss,” the blonde one chuckles, leaning forward just enough so that his shirt tugs down, teasing the view of her cleavage. 
“Just… helping in,” Harry gives a tight-lipped smile, barely even glancing at her as he makes the cocktail. 
“See, I told you it'll be worth coming here on a Monday,” the other one giggles as she gently sways to the soft music that’s playing through the speakers. 
It’s a sight that’s an easy trigger for you. They did nothing wrong other than flirting with a man they find attractive. And you know Harry barely even acknowledged their efforts, but still, it was enough to let that evil little voice out of its cage in the back of your mind. 
They are gorgeous and you’re nothing like them. They are thin and looking around you already see a dozen men looking at them. You can never be like them. 
Deep down you know these thoughts are worthless, but once they take over it’s hard to fight them, to see yourself in a better light. Not when you’ve struggled with this for so long and spent long years to convince yourself it’s all that matters. 
There’s nothing left of the free spirit you were just minutes ago. When this happens you simply close off and want to disappear as fast as possible. For a moment you think of just leaving while Harry is not paying attention, but you’d hate to walk out on him like that so you stay there, trying to take up as little space as physically possible as you finish your drink. 
Nico soon comes back, his left ring finger bandaged up, ready to get back to work, which means Harry is free from bar duty again. He doesn’t hesitate to walk away from the two women and return to you, but you’ve let your spiraling thoughts win by now.
He notices something is wrong the moment he sees you avoid looking into his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, dipping his head to try to get you to look at him. 
“Nothing,” you shake your head, but it’s a weak attempt to mask just how uncomfortable you’re feeling.
“Y/N, I know that’s not true. What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” you push, then take a deep breath to help you swallow the bitterness in your mouth. 
There’s a few seconds of pause when you’re convinced he’ll say to end the date and then you already see yourself never coming here to avoid ever running into him. The voice in the back of your mind is already working hard to convince you it’s for the best, that it would have never worked, you’re way too different and sooner or later he would see you the way you see yourself. 
But it never happens. Instead, he silently packs away everything you used for the cocktail and when he’s done, he gently takes your hand and starts to pull you towards the door that leads out to the hotel’s lobby. Confused, but curious, you follow him and don’t say a word until the two of you stop at the elevators.
“Harry, where are we going?”
“Up. To my suite.”
“You have a suite here?”
“I do. Comes with the perks of owning the bar that’s part of the hotel.” 
His hand is still holding yours, warm and gentle, but still confident, especially when he tightens his hold as the elevator arrives and he pulls you inside, pushing the button of the 18th floor. He doesn’t let go of you as the elevator starts moving, you just stand there next to each other without a word until it arrives and the doors slide open. 
Harry once again pulls you with him, striding down the carpeted hallway to the door with the number 1804 next to it. He fishes out a card from his pocket and taps it against the lock that clicks silently, letting him open the door and that’s when his hand falls from yours, letting you walk in first as he holds the door open for you. 
You haven’t been to a hotel this elegant, not as a guest at least. You’ve attended a few conferences but you could only see the lobby and the conference rooms during those, not the rooms or in this case, the suites. 
You walk into a spacious living room  with a minibar, dark purple couches facing the TV mounted onto the wall, the floor-to-ceiling windows giving an impeccable view of the city lights. There’s a door on the left and the right, one is probably leading to the bedroom, the other one must be the bathroom and though the doors are closed, you can imagine how good they must be designed.
The suite is definitely not untouched, you see signs of Harry here and there, the envelopes on the coffee table, the single used mug next to them, some sort of hoodie thrown over the back of one of the armchairs and a Macbook lying on the desk next to the TV. 
“It’s permanently reserved for me. I spend so much time at the bar, it’s easier if sometimes I don’t have to drive all the way home and can just stay here,” he explains as you walk further inside, stopping by the window to have a look at the view. 
Slowly, you turn around and look at him with your arms crossed over your chest.
“Why are we here?”
He is standing a few feet away, his hands hidden in his pockets, but his stance feels welcoming and open even despite your closed off behavior. 
“To be alone. I don’t want the circumstances to bother you. I know things can get overwhelming sometimes.”
You remain still, not sure what to say or do. It really has been overwhelming, but only because sometimes your own mind turns against you and there’s nothing you can do about it. 
Harry pulls his hands out of his pockets and cautiously takes a few steps closer to you, but still leaves a bit of space between the two of you. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks so softly, it almost makes you want to cry, because he doesn’t feel real, nothing does when it’s about him. You’re so set on how unmatching you feel around him that it’s almost impossible to think otherwise now. 
“I don’t see it,” you reply in a whisper.
“See what?”
“I don’t see what you see in me. I only see my version of myself and it’s… not good.”
The tears are stinging your eyes. You have probably never said these words out loud, but somehow, you feel safe enough with Harry to bring this side of you out, though the fear that he might get fed up with it is still strong in the pit of your stomach. 
You have no idea what kind of reaction you were expecting from him, to be honest you couldn’t imagine a version where he stands his ground and doesn’t agree with all the awful things you harbor about yourself. 
But then he steps closer, his hands gently cupping your face in them as he angles your head so you’re looking up at him, holding you like that, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. 
“I want to show you. How I see you.”
His hands slide down to your neck, his thumbs are underneath your chin to keep you in place, his gaze dipping down to your lips a couple of times before settling on your eyes, waiting, silently asking for permission and though you don’t say a single word he understands you.
His first kiss is brief, but confident. His lips press against yours and they open slowly, just enough so that his tongue can tease you before he pulls back, though he doesn’t move far, his nose is still brushing against yours. Opening your eyes you find him looking at you, his otherwise light and bright eyes are now several shades darker, lust dripping from the curled up ends of his lashes as he waits for you to make up your mind whether you want to go further or not. Somehow, his black magic must have worked enough on you to mute that evil voice in the back of your head, the absence of it giving you the chance to give yourself into the moment. 
You push up against him this time eagerly, open mouth meeting his and he’s quick to react with just as much passion. 
One of his hands moves down to your waist and when his fingers dig into the soft flesh you can’t hold back a moan that’s immediately swallowed by him. You fist his shirt, desperately trying to pull closer even though he is entirely pressed up against you. 
Blindly he starts moving, pulling you with him, your kiss never breaking as you move around the couch. Then his lips leave yours and you’re forced to open your eyes just as he sits down on the couch, his hands grabbing the back of your thighs as he pulls you between his knees and he kisses your stomach through the fabric of your shirt. Out of reflex you try to pull away or avert him somewhere else, but his hands squeeze your thighs as his eyes snap up to meet your gaze.
“How I see you, remember? Let me show you,” he reminds you and though every inch of you is screaming to pull away, you stay.
Harry pushes your shirt up and unbuttons your pants before his hands grab you by the waist. He twists you around and pulls you down on him, so you end up lying half on top of him with your back pressed against his chest. 
“Harry,” you gasp when his right hand starts to slip into your pants and then under your underwear, but his other hand falls to your heaving chest as if he could calm your jumping pulse with just one touch.
“Tell me if you want me to stop, I don’t want to push anything on you.” His lips are by your ear that brushes against them when you nod and just let him do whatever he wants. 
When two of his fingers slip between your wet folds, your lips part with a sigh, your head rolling back to his shoulder just from his touch. He is gentle but determined, starts off by just moving those two fingers up and down, gently applying some pressure at the perfect spots before keep moving. Then they settle on your clit and start drawing circles in a slow pace, playing with the pressure once again, setting your nerves on fire. 
You keep moaning and gasping as you still lie on top of him, his other hand moves underneath your shirt, but it doesn’t go further up just yet, only remains flat on your skin. You can’t stop your body from falling into a rhythm, hips buckling, spine arching with certain movements, especially when he starts to gradually increase his pace. 
When a tiny shock rides through your body with a rougher movement one of your hands grabs onto his thigh by your side, fingers digging into his muscles, earning a deep grunt from him that rumbles right underneath you. 
Your other hand snaps to his wrist as you completely lose control over yourself and push his hand a bit further, showing him where and how you need him the most and he is quick to pick up on the clues and add to the sensation. 
“Y/N, Angel, let go for me,” he whispers into your ear and while his hand between your legs doesn’t stop for a moment, the other one finally inches up and cups your breast, kneading it sensually. 
“Harry, I–Ah!” You’ve lost your ability to voice a coherent thought. You have none, the feelings Harry is making you feel have taken over you entirely. 
“I know, I know,” he murmurs and when you turn your head he doesn’t hesitate to capture your lips in a deep kiss and while you’re eager to return it, you lose control over your movements when you feel your orgasm tipping you over the edge. It stretches and teases and then it washes over you like a tidal wave. 
Gasping for air, your back arches and your nails dig into his wrist and thigh, you hear him say something but his words are tuned out, you hear or see nothing, only feel.
But you feel everything. 
You have no idea how long it takes for you to calm down and come back to real life. When it happens you realize Harry’s hand has moved away from between your legs and both of them are placed on your stomach, his fingers gently brushing against your skin in a slow rhythm. 
When you find your strength you wiggle around until you’re lying on your stomach, facing him. Even though you were the only one who benefited from the scene you just experienced, you see a deep satisfaction etched across his face as his lips break out into a smile. 
“Hi.”
“Hi,” you chuckle and pushing yourself up you stretch your neck until your lips meet his. This kiss is different, it’s gentle and slow, but just as meaningful as the ones before. 
“So,” he starts as he reaches up, running his fingers down the side of your face. “Did you see what I see?”
“I… felt it,” you say, part of you afraid of his reaction. But as you watch him, all you see is that same sweet, charming smile you’ve seen from him so many times before.
“That’s a start.”
“Yeah.”
“And I’m more than happy to work on it until you really see it.”
Staring at him, you search for something. Anything that gives away the slightest sign that gives away that he is not being genuine, but you find none and it feels heavier than if you did. Completely touched by his words the tears start dwelling in your eyes. 
“Where have you been?” you ask in just a whisper.
“Well…” he breathes out, locking you in his arms. “Behind bars the past ten years,” he says and there’s a heartbeat of silence as you both realize what he just said and the duality of it. 
You both burst out in laughter at the same time.
“Not like that!” he shakes his head.
“I guess there are a lot I don’t know about you, that’s fair.”
“And do you want to know more?” He challenges you. Your laughter fades into just a soft smile.
“I do. Do you want to know more about me?”
“Everything. I want to know everything.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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Sexism in TOS: Worst Offender, or Progressive in Retrospect in Comparison?
I see a lot of folks claim that TOS was the most sexist of the Star Trek shows by a landslide -- and while I agree that it definitely suffered from the sexism of the times, I also have other perspectives to share to give some food for thought.
I am of course not insinuating that TOS isn't sexist -- it is, but I have to ask folks to consider the breadth and depth of Berman's sexism in his run and ask yourself: Was Gene Roddenberry genuinely more sexist in his storytelling and delivery than Rick Berman?
I'm not telling you to feel one way or the other, but all I ask is that you hear me out and consider some perspectives and make your own balanced assessments. Nobody is obligated to share my opinion, but it means a lot just to have folks hear it and see their thoughts on the subject. So here is what I was originally responding to:
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Someone's response to this photo:
"Devil's advocate. This was a part of the popular form of cardio during the production time of TNG. Yes, it was heavily sexualised by men, but so is literally every other way women work out. Men have been caught taking pictures of women while trying to do dead lifts, running on tracks and working on sled machines. They post them online to share too. The fact is, there is no way a woman can be shown working out without it going there. And yeah,t hat includes the combat forms of workout they do in Star Trek. Just look at how Dax dresses when she spars with Worf. Yes, they're dating, but still, same goes when 7 does and any other female.
Aerobics routines like this were made dirty and cringy. This was what women wore then by and large. This is how the workout was done. We make it cringy."
My response to them:
"I respect your take, but I disagree on a few fronts.
The miniskirt was chosen by the TOS female cast, not the male cast, specifically requested by Grace LW and affirmed by Nichelle and Majel who would go on to vehemently defend the miniskirt over the years as comfortable and embraced by them.
Grace said it was comfortable and seen as a symbol of female sexual empowerment during the 60s and thought it would be a progressive garment (and turns out that it was, as it was later adapted and worn by male crew as a skant on TNG) -- FYI those were designed by a gay man and Gene approved them.
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This was also supposed to be Spock's TMP outfit:
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Literally lingerie.
We saw both Uhura (who saves Kirk in from Marlena Mirror Mirror) and Yeoman Landon (the first to initiate combat with a classic Kirk-esque kick to help the Captain being attacked in The Apple) carry out their combat training in their Starfleet uniforms without ever being made to change into any ridiculous workout gear.
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In fact, I'd argue Jim Kirk was sexualized even more than the ladies of the week on the show and I saw his naked body more than anyone else's on a fairly regular basis. He wore red yoga tights while topless in Charlie X while the women wore full length gymnastic suits that covered their entire body. If anything, it went out of its way to avoid sexualizing women practicing fitness in those scenes and instead focused on Kirk.
Gene confessed that he asked to have Shatner filmed in suggestive/provocative ways to "give something to the ladies", so he -- as he said -- liked to "film him walking away" or have him conveniently busting out of his shirts in just about every episode as it were, because Shatner apparently had great assets. LOL
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Gene made an effort to at least sexualize both if he was going to sexualize one, and he carried that attitude forward in wanting the m/m and f/f scenes in the background on Risa for TNG. He also insisted that the men and women wear skimpy outfits on THAT TNG planet. You know the one. LOL I mean the dudes even had on less than the women:
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Gene also gave permission to K/S shippers to have their conventions back in the 70s when he was asked for permission. Gene and Nimoy felt with all the skimpy outfits they had the ladies wear, why not let the ladies and gay men have their fun, too? It's how we ended up with moments like this:
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Yes, those are two people dressed up as Kirk and Spock's penises doing interpretive dance. Gene didn't give two damns. LOL
In my eyes, that was a very progressive take on Gene's part for the 60s. It was actually PARAMOUNT STUDIOS who had the big problem with K/S stories and vehemently tried to shut them down. Gene literally hired slash authors on his payroll and even had several slash stories/writers published in his official Star Trek books (The New Voyages & The New Voyages II).
I feel I saw Uhura and women in TOS engaged in more physical combat/altercations defending themselves that Troi or Bev were shown holding their own.
In fact, Kirk used to get furious when someone would "dress up" his female crew members without their consent (Trelane episode, Shore Leave episode) because like his male crew members, he wanted them to be treated professionally and to also have his male crew act professionally.
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Berman brought some of his own personal biases into Star Trek that in some ways regressed it. While TOS had blatant sexism and was called on it time and again, that show was made in the 60s -- a solid 21 years before TNG. We as a modern audience understood why some of it was cringe/sexist due to the time period -- look at any other media coming out in the 60s and Star Trek was miles ahead of what other shows were doing.
Compare that to Berman who was churning sexist stuff out when women like Starbuck and Scully were simultaneously on screen on other programs airing, and we had already had Sigourney Weaver and other strong women in Holywood playing respectful roles.
In my eyes, there was no need of the sexism seen in TNG but especially VOY and ENT. There was no excuse for it when other shows were writing women far better and a number of those weren't even set in the future like Trek was, making it age even faster due to having those dated perspectives frequently highlighted.
In the Center Seat documentary as well as "The Fifty Year Mission" book you will find cast members, writers and other studio alumni who attest to this. Some discussions from "The Fifty Year Mission":
"First, Berman was supposed to have been a real sleaze ball . . . According to Terry Farrel, he would go on constantly about how her breasts weren't big enough, how she should do something about it, and how his secretary was a good example to follow as she had huge breasts. She even had to have fittings to get larger bras, and that was all done at his behest.
Later Berman and Braga developed a name for Jeri Ryan's character prior Seven of Nine. They originally called the character "perineum" which if you look it up it is the area between the anus and the scrotum. Later they floated the name "6 of 9". I mean, what does it tell you about where these two were coming from in the development of this character if they had names like that put forward in all seriousness for her?"
Gene Roddenberry also had some of his own more progressive ideas for TNG cut or watered down by Berman. Roddenberry agreed TNG should have homosexual relationships and representation at a con in the 80s and insisted on it in a meeting with his writers -- something Berman later would not honor. Gene wanted the AIDS episode, showing m/m and f/f in the Riza scenes -- these were some of Roddenberry's requests to include in TNG that Berman later stonewalled.
Berman's era was sadly dated by his own misogynist bias, IMO, to the point that it can somewhat hurt the shows he worked on through his cringe egoism and blatant disrespect toward his female cast.
There is a reason why Gene could keep female actresses working with him and Berman had a revolving door of women that he couldn't seem to keep working for him -- he was abhorrent to women, on and off set. Gene wasn't perfect at all, he had a lot of issues himself -- but Berman was a whole other level. Just look at what he did to poor Jolene Blalock, Marina Sirtis and his toxic commenting on her body weight which exacerbated her struggles with eating disorders, or how he treated and talked to Terry Farrell.
Anyway, just some food for thought. I'm not saying anyone is wrong regarding a take like that, but there are a variety of ways to look at this. Gene Roddenberry isn't a saint by any means, but it definitely bothers me how folks will tote the Berman era as if it were the lesser of two evils or the more progressive depiction of women when I felt there were far more concerning portrayals of women in his era with far less justification.
(P.S: I don't event want to go near the sheer amount of "creepy old dude/villain preys on innocent/naïve/scared young woman or little girl" stories there were in Berman's era, either. But that's a whole other can of worms I can write about in a part 2.)
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