#sorry if it sounds speech-y again

[skeltnwrites]

Bad Cop - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You wake to a call from your boyfriend Eddie who asks you to bail him out of jail. 

Word Count: 2.2k

TW: interactions with police, mild injury, talk of fighting and bullying, sexual innuendos 

A/N: I might be a little late to the Eddie Munson party but I’m here now! :D

“This is a collect call from Edward Munson at Hawkins Police Station. Will you accept the charges?” 

You clear your throat but your voice still feels raw when you speak, “Yes.” 

“Please hold,” the operator says. 

A trilling sound as you wait, twirling the phone cord anxiously. You’d been tucked in bed a minute ago, dead to the world. The phone rang loud enough from the kitchen to startle you awake. You caught the time on the alarm clock on the nightstand as you kicked the blankets off, just after one in the morning. 

“Y/N?” His voice is soft under the crackle. 

“Edward.” It’s not angry per se but you never use his real name which is telling.

“Please don’t be mad.”

“Are you okay?” you sigh, tipping your head till your forehead meets the wallpaper. 

“I’m sorry— I’m fine. I just, can you bail me out please.” 

“What happened, Eds?” 

“Just a stupid fight. Nothing serious, I promise.” He pleads like you won’t believe him and doesn’t give you a chance to press for details, “There’s cash in a shoebox on the top shelf of the closet. On my side, all the way in the back.” 

You want to scold him but you're still kneading sleep from your face, irritated now that you know he’s okay. You bite your cheek, considering the possibility of an argument. Knowing that it shouldn’t take place through a phone. 

“You’re sure? It’s enough?” 

“Swear.” 

“Okay, on my way.”

He apologizes again before the line clicks. 

You shuffle through the band tees he’s grown out of and have since been neglected to the back of your shared closet. You make a mental note to remind him to drop some off at Goodwill. Under a stack of vinyls, you locate the box with a rolled wad of twenties held together by a rubber band. You snap the band, biting your lip. It’s enough to buy something expensive, really expensive. You jam your heel into a laced sneaker and do not bother to change out of your pajamas. The money is pushed deep into your pocket along with the house keys. You shake away arising questions as you start the van. 

Cold air smacks your bare arms as you push open the station door. You blink rapidly at the fluorescents. An officer hands you a clipboard, you sign two dotted lines, and fork over most of the cash. He retreats to a separate room without a word, presumably to retrieve your boyfriend, leaving you alone in the lobby. 

Your arms pillow your head on the counter until a familiar set of steps rounds the corner. His eyes, big and sorry, find yours instantly. But your attention quickly shifts to the marbled purple and blue highlighting the arch of his cheek. The stern speech about bar fights and bail payments you’d rehearsed on the way flees your throat. He brushes past the counter to hug you and you spot a split lip too. Your shoulders deflate as you meet him halfway. 

“Thank you,” Eddie mumbles into your crown. 

You give his waist a quick squeeze before pulling back. His hands chase the goosebumps from your skin as you scan his face. His curls are frizzy which is typical but more disheveled like he’s been running his hands through them. Your nail traces his lower lip where it was clearly cracked open but is now glazed over with a layer of dry blood. “Lose any teeth?” 

He smiles, pearls still intact, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad. His breath smells faintly of alcohol as he says, “You look tired.”

“I am so tired,” you admit. 

He grits his teeth guiltily, “I’ll make it up to you.” 

An officer clears his throat and passes Eddie a brown paper bag with ‘Munson’ scribbled on the front. He snatches the bag with a wink. The man offers nothing but a blank stare, maybe mild disapproval as Eddie pivots and jogs toward you, already at the door. He fishes for his lighter from the bag, kissing and pocketing it as you step outside. 

“Can I drive?” Eddie reaches for the keys in your hand. You always let him drive. 

You snatch the carabiner to your chest, elbowing his side, “Are you trying to get a DUI too?” 

“I had one beer,” he scoffs as you unlock the door. 

You believe him but pretend not to as you hop in the driver's seat. “You’re a criminal now. Can’t be trusted!” You yell playfully before slamming the door as he jogs around the hood. 

“Very funny,” he mutters as he climbs in. 

You sling your arm over his seat to back out. The streetlight accentuates the bruise when you glance past him. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Hmm?” 

You point at your own cheek. 

“Oh, no. It’s fine. Should’ve seen the other guy,” he chuckles. 

“We’ll ice it when we get home,” you pull out onto the main road before settling your gaze back on him. “So who was the other guy?” 

His eyes roll in your peripherals, “So Shelly Watkins was there—“ 

“You hit Shelly Watkins?” 

“Jesus! No! Her stupid boyfriend Rob Perry.” He groans in disgust. “You remember him? He was such a dick in high school!” 

You shake your head, trying to recall. 

“He’s a couple of years older I think. Well anyway, Shelly was blabbing her big mouth, as usual, about Robin and her new girlfriend.” 

“What was she saying?” You interrupt, curious but inferring already. 

“Nasty shit. And she’s talking so loud the whole bar can probably hear. I mean, I couldn’t not say anything, babe. And hey,” he throws his hands up in surrender, “All I said was ‘Seems like what other people do in their spare time isn’t your business.’” 

You smirk, knowing it was not as polite as he made it out to be. 

“And Rob is all ‘What did you say?’” Eddie teasingly lowers his voice, foot hiked up in his seat to face you with a finger curled under his nose like a mustache. 

You steal glances from the road to watch the theatrics as he retells the story, making sure to emphasize when he punched Rob square in the nose so hard it broke. 

“Did you win?” You ask, attempting to hide your proud grin by checking your blind spot. 

“Oh yeah.” Eddie crosses his arms, accidentally nicking the wound on his lip with his nail as he retracts the faux finger stache. He winces, tapping the cut to assess the damage. Fresh blood coats his finger; he’s quick to press his whole hand over his mouth as he fumbles through the glovebox with the other. A deck of fast food napkins you’d organized spills out. You catch one before it falls, crumpling it into his free hand and swerving back into your lane. He replaces his hand with the thin sheet, wiping his fingers on another napkin off the floor as you pull up to a stoplight. 

He tips his head like a puppy when he catches you staring. You lick your thumb, smearing a stray drop crawling down his chin. Your palm lingers on his skin, rubbing circles behind his ear as the light flicks green. 

It’s not long before you pull into the driveway and unlock the front door. Eddie holds a third napkin to his face. You consider going to the ER for stitches as you toss the keys on the counter and snatch a Ziploc bag from the cabinet. 

Two lines of light form a skewed L in the hall from the cracked bathroom door; A silent message that you are allowed to come in. It squeaks familiarly loud on its hinges but Eddie doesn't acknowledge you. 

He focuses on his reflection as he peels the napkin away hesitantly. The blood has stopped but his lip looks swollen and angry. You hook a finger through his belt loop, tugging him until he turns. You nudge the bag of ice to his cheek and he flinches grasping your hand to pull it away. 

“‘s cold.” 

You tug the hand towel off the sink and wrap the plastic, pushing it back to his cheek. You hold it there caressing his lash line with your pointer. He leans into the touch, rubbing his eyes with ringed fingers. Eddie pulls the thick silver off one by one, setting them on the counter. 

“Sit,” you tell him. 

He perches on the edge of the toilet lid obediently. You pick a washcloth from the drawer and run it under the sink. He parts his knees as you approach him, hands snapping into place at your hips. You cup his chin, pushing up until he tilts it toward you. Cool water cleans his lips where you brush. He doesn’t flinch, even when you accidentally dig too hard. You progress down to his jaw, where blood is smeared dry, and flaky. 

 “Think I’ll have a cool scar?” His breath fans your chin as you work cautiously. 

“No,” you say. He toys with the strings on your pants, happy to be taken care of. “But you don’t need it. You’re cool already.” 

The corners of his mouth lift fondly. He fights the urge to smile, hoping you’ll work longer if he sits still. You swipe in slow strokes, also secretly loathing the time and touch. 

You give his face a once over before tossing the rag to the counter. He searches your expression for a diagnosis. But words are slow to find your mouth, too enraptured with the long lashes that bat his cheeks sweetly. “I love how eager you are to stick up for the people you love,” you start. 

“But?”

“But, we can’t afford you getting arrested over something like this.”

“I know,” he groans and headbutts you gently in the stomach. His hands cup the backs of your thighs and his hair drapes around his face like a curtain. You comb a handful of it over his neck and he tilts his head so you can see his eyes. “I don’t regret what I did, though. He’s always been such a bully. He deserved it, you know?” He sighs, gaze drifting away, “I felt like I could finally stand up to him after all these years.” 

Your fingers trail down his shoulder to smooth out the tee riding up his back. “I don’t doubt that he deserved it. I know you just want to do the right thing. But still, he can probably afford it, we can’t.” You hesitate to ask, “Where did you get that money anyway?” 

He hugs your middle, muttering into your belly, “Been saving.” 

“For what?” 

He shrugs and says what you believe to be, “Something special.” You are curious but lean on your trust rather than insecurity. He most likely intended to surprise you with something if you didn’t know.

“Sorry, you had to spend it.”

“Not your fault.” He peers up at you as if to ensure you know that and you brush his bangs back. 

“Still, sorry.” 

He blinks slowly up at you like a cat waiting for more pets. Then, he shoots up, back stiff, eyes wide. “You have work tomorrow,” he realizes out loud. 

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” you pull his arm until he stands. “I actually have come down with a real nasty cold,” you force a cough into your fist. 

“Oh yeah?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, not only that but there's this criminal that won’t leave me alone. Think I might have to file a report at the station tomorrow.” 

He laughs, flicking the light off as he follows you to the bedroom. The ice pack is left to melt in the sink and the stained washcloth to dry on the counter, a mess for tomorrow you’ve decided. You’re quick to crawl under the covers and he’s even quicker to shed his clothes and join you. 

Eddie pecks the sliver of collarbone poking out of your shirt, making his way up in a dotted line. He presses gently to your lips, and you break away mindfully, aiming for the corner instead. 

“You know?” Your eyes are closed but you feel his stare. 

You hum.

“I think it’s kinda sexy when you call me a criminal.” 

“Oh my God!” You throw an arm over your burning cheeks, “You are so horny.”

He laughs into your wrist but moves it aside to cradle your cheeks firmly. He pulls one eyelid open gently with his thumb when you refuse to engage. You release the smile you’ve been keeping. He mirrors it, teeth bright in the moonlight spilling in. “Think about it, I already have handcuffs so you can play bad cop and—“ 

You grope for a pillow to push into his face and then another when he chucks it off the bed, giggles overlapping. 

“I’m going to call the police on you, have them arrest you again. Take you to horny jail.” 

“Now you get it,” he releases his grip on your wrists to sit back on his heels and in a voice that is not his own he fawns, “Oh, officer! I promise to be a good boy from now on!” 

You roll over, groaning wildly into your pillow. “Go to bed!” 

He settles behind you, his heart races where it's thumping against your back. Yours isn’t far off. A final kiss is planted on your nape where he tickles you with his hair as he wishes you a good night.

[octoberautumnbox]

I Got All I Need

Le Sserafim Kim Chaewon (ft. Soloist Jo Yuri & Male Reader)

Categories/warnings: smut, phone sex, masturbation, voyeurism i think, anal, abuse, rough sex, like really really rough sex (kinda)

Word count: 1.6k

a/n: wrote on a whim lol no proofread no beta im sorry anways--

Chaewon lay bored in her bed, having exhausted her SNS feeds and Watch Later playlist. Her members sent all manner of pictures with their families and other friends in the groupchat, and honestly, genuinely, Chaewon was happy for them! And just a teeny bit envious, that's all, cross her heart and hope to die.

Her phone read 6:06 pm, and on her first long weekend off in the year, she had nothing to do. She was getting desperate for some fun. She opened her contacts app and punched in a random number.

"Ah, sorry, Chaewon-ssi," the voice on the other end of the line admitted, "Yena won't be back in Korea until next Friday. I'll let her know you called."

"Hi, this is Eunbi! I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave me a message and I'll get back to you in a jiffy!" Of course she uses an answering machine, Chaewon thought.

"Hi, Unnie!" Chaewon was overjoyed! "Hey Minmin, I was just curious if you were down to eat--" The sound of a bell rang loud in the other side of the phone call. "Oops, I'm really really sorry Unnie. Gotta get back now. Long night ahead of us, they're even killing my character again today! See you soon!"

Looking to her closet, Chaewon's mind was half-set to just put on a warm coat and go out alone. That's a thing people do nowadays, right? Go out and eat by themselves?

Sighing, she went for one last-ditch effort. She knows she won't pick up. She knows that even if she does, she wouldn't want to come out. She knows that if she wants to come out, it'll be shabu-shabu and sitting around by the Han River. "Oh well," Chaewon resigned, "At least I won't be alone."

She scrolled down her contacts and found her name. Tap, tap, tap, and the ringing started. One ring, two, three, and four. Chaewon expected this, so much so that she's not even disappointed.

"H-hello?" Chaewon fought back a gasp! "Hey, hi Yuri! I was going to go out for a bite--"

"Ah, fuck..." Silence filled the phone line for a good few seconds before Yuri's end broke it again. "Shit, th-that's really good."

"Yuri?" "Ffffuck yes, just like that..." Disbelief filled Chaewon's mind. "Sorry," Yuri struggled to whisper, "wh-who is this?"

"It's... It's Chaewo-" "Fuck! Shit, shit, shit, please..."

Chaewon had half a mind to just drop the call then and there, and she should, right? This is one of her best friends in the world. Busy, as they say, with something important.

"Unnie, I'm so sorry, I just have the thickest cock ripping my asshole apart right now, ahhh, oh fuck, OH FUCK!"

Although, as much as Chaewon wants to deny it, dropping the call was out of the question now. She had to know just what exactly was going on.

"Are you okay, Yuri? Do... you need me to call someone?"

"Haahhhhh... Ahh, AHHHH!" Yuri's scream ripped through the phone line, and Chaewon couldn't keep her own free hand from straying anymore.

"Unnie, I... I need y-you... to keep a... a secret," It was hard for Chaewon to decipher what her friend was saying, between every moan and grunt littered across her speech. She couldn't resist, though, that she was paying more attention to them than whatever words could be spilling out of Yuri's mouth.

"I'm... with my... with my boyfriend. He's p-pounding my ass right now..." Chaewon was groping her own ass at that moment, and she could feel herself getting moist.

She heard whispering at the other end. Yuri's voice rang clearer, even if a bit shakier. "He says... if I end the call... he'll tie me up and, and leave me," Yuri's breaths are heavy and laced with exhaustion, "un-until morning. So I'm sorry, but I can't... Mmmmff..."

Chaewon couldn't believe she was getting hot to the sound of her friend getting fucked hard. There was no way pure, sweet, innocent Yuri was like this, right? Absolutely impossible.

And yet, she found her own hand slipping under her panties. She felt her smooth pussy lips, how they were slick against her fingers, and how her insides were starting to burn up.

"Unnie... he's making me tell you..." Chaewon was all ears now, desperate for more.

"I have six inches of cock up my ass... and three ffffingers... in my soaking cunt." Three wouldn't fit, Chaewon thought, so she settled for two inside herself. Her pussy lips parted for them, and Chaewon let out a tiny "mmmh."

"He... he's rubbing my clit, and... AHHH--" Chaewon was palming her own clit as her fingers shoved themselves slowly in and out of her pussy, letting more of her juices out and onto her panties.

"... and he's s-slapping and pinching it, Unnie..." Frustrated and in heat, Chaewon frantically stripped and kicked away both her shorts and panties; they were ruined anyway. She lay comfortably back onto her bed and spread her legs, in prime position for her own missionary fucking, with regrettably nothing more than her left hand.

"And Unnie..." Her former member's deep and heavy breaths occupied the phone line. "P-please... don't let this... change how you see me... God, please, no..."

Chaewon pumped her fingers in and out of her pussy hard now. Her juices were falling all over her bedsheets, and the scent of her sex reaching her nose only spurred her on.

"Yuri... Tell me."

"He... he creampied me, Unnie..." Suddenly, Chaewon's hips lifted off the bed momentarily as she heard this. Her fingers found a good spot as she returned to the bed, and from then on strove to hit it again and again and again.

"More, Yuri-yah... please..." She couldn't hide it anymore, Chaewon was moaning just as loudly now as her beloved friend.

"Th-three times, Unnie... in my ass..." Chaewon's eyes shut tight as her brain locked onto what was being said. "And... six... I think, in my... my pussy... oh- OH GOD!"

Chaewon started grinding against her palm, forcing more pleasure through her crotch. She humped against the air, lifting and dropping her hips in a needy bid for her sweet release.

"FUCK! Unnie, I can't remember-- Shhhhhit, shitshitshitshit... How- how many times he came in my cunt- AHHHH!"

She could hear it so much better now, how her friend's ass slapped against her boyfriend's waist. Yuri's moans rang louder still, pushing her phone's speaker to its limit.

"Unnie, holy fuck, Unnie... Please... don't..." Yuri collected herself for a moment before starting again. "He... he has my-my nipples in clamps, too... It hurts so good, Chaewon-unnie, shit... everything is so good..."

Chaewon struggled against her top, and managed to get all of it up past her chest and under her neck. Her breasts bounced out from under her bra and relaxed. She pinched and squeezed her left nipple as hard as she could, feeling the nub stiffen against her fingertips.

"And I came, Unnie..." Her fingers returned to pleasuring her now-leaking pussy. Chaewon rubbed around her lips to collect more of her slick, before shoving now three of her fingers inside her.

"I came so... so many times. F-fifteen... before I- ahhh- lost c-count." Chaewon found her pace and rhythm again. She pistoned her fingers into and out of her sex as her moans reached the other end of the line too.

"Fuck, Yuri-yah, that sounds so fucking good... I'm close... I'm so close!"

"He's forcing me t-to tell you, Unnie, ahhhhh..."

Chaewon shut her eyes again, wishing, imagining it was her getting the railing of her life. Only now did she realize how big the wet spot on her bed between her legs was.

"I'm... Unnie, I'm... his slut. I'm his ffffuuuckdoll..."

Chaewon was straining herself now, her arm muscles burning with overexertion. She felt her cunt leak so much of her sex all over her hand. She wildly fingered her g-spot, praying that her climax comes soon.

"I'm his pleasure girl, Unnie," Chaewon heard her friend's voice break with sobs between words and moans. "I'm his slutty, hhhorny, p-personal o-onahole..."

At this point, Chaewon was sobbing too. Why couldn't she have a boyfriend like that? Why can't she be the one getting sexually taken advantage of? She even bet she could make Yuri's boyfriend feel worlds better than Yuri ever could.

"I'm his... I'm his slutty fucking cumdump, Unnie! He fucks me raw and creampies my cunt- AHHHHH- and I love when he fills my womb up so much it leaks out of my abused pussy!"

A scream dragged itself across Chaewon's throat, and she made sure both Yuri and her boyfriend heard. Chaewon's arm burned hotter with overfatigue as she was nearly breaking her own pussy with how hard she was pumping. "Fuck, Yuri! Please! I need to cum!"

"Fuck, Unnie, me too! Shit, Unnie, I have to tell you..."

Tears streamed down Chaewon's cheeks now, her crotch and thighs soaked with her slick. She's already lost control of herself and fully gave in to her body's desires, wailing cries and moans that she couldn't even recognize as her own anymore.

"I'm not safe, Unnie! I'm so fucking f-fertile! He's going to make me pregnant! H-he's put- FUCKING SHIT, PLEASE DADDY- He's putting a fucking baby in my womb!!! AAAHHHHHHH!"

"FFFFUCK, YURI! HOLY FUCK I'M CUMMING SO MUCH!!!"

Chaewon's cum sprayed out of her sore cunt in intense streams. Chaewon forcefully pulled her fingers out as her hips convulsed violently, wringing out every last drop of her climax. She kept squirting for what felt like ages, and with every spurt of her girlcum she grew less and less alert.

Her eyes were heavy, and her ears were failing her. Her hands dropped to the sides, as did her waist onto the mattress as her climax overwhelmingly resolved. She grew less and less aware of her heart beating out of her chest, and, finally, passed out naked on her cum-soaked bed.

a/n: lmao jesus christ anyways this wasn't the incest smut i was talking abt that's still in the works

[almostempty]

Kick and Scream

Self Esteem Part 3

Pairing: fuckboy!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel catches you on a date and communicates how he feels about it (the only way he knows how).

Warnings: fuckboy!Joel, dub con, smut, pwp, unprotected piv sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk, public sex, blow job, reader is still sippin' on some dumb bitch juice for Joel (me), jealous!joel, possessive!joel, emotionally manipulative but sexually proficient Joel, toxic breadcrumbing Joel fucks, smash and dash, no use of y/n, AU no outbreak, special guest appearance by date night dave, OOC Dave bc I don’t know that man so I made him single, rich, hot, and pervy idc idc idc, more i might be forgetting rn,  

Notes: please leave feedback! open to constructive criticism or delusional inspiration

Thanks: to EVERYONE who read part 1 and 2, but ESPECIALLY  @auteurdelabre for inspiring, I hope you enjoy it bb. I'll try to tag those who specifically asked for more brb, and @strangergraphics

WC: 9.3K (idk it got long and horny heheh) 

AO3: HERE | Masterlist: Here

Part 1: Self Esteem

Part 2: Want You Bad

Part 4: The more you suffer

You stare down at the hand that just landed on your thigh, cocking your head in assessment. You can feel the scowl tugging at the corners of your mouth. As you work out what expression you should paste onto your face instead, the man sitting next to you seems unbothered. Maybe even encouraged? He continues his lecture about the benefits of indoor rock climbing. You sigh, staring across the park as he continues without pausing to breathe. 

You watch the couples milling around the park, wondering if that’s what you look like with this guy's hand on your leg. You stare back down at it, his long fingers shifting slightly as he continues his animated speech. Sweat beads at the back of your neck, and you feel fidgety. Trapped under the weight of his limp hand. He doesn’t seem to notice when you squirm and readjust. He’s circled back to his earlier lecture about how you just have to learn to play an instrument. If he’d let you get a word in, you could verify that you already do, but he seems to prefer the sound of his own voice. 

This guy should get a podcast. The kind where a guy with a microphone talks to himself for three hours about whatever he wants. He’d crush it. You laugh to yourself, unintentionally encouraging him with your smile. He’s not not good-looking. But you’d prefer someone interested in asking you at least one question. 

You stifle a laugh at the intrusive thought of taking him home and stripping his clothes off while he prattles on about amateur bird-watching, sorry–birding, or unicycling. 

Eventually, you extricate yourself from the disappointing date, accept an awkward hug, and turn down dinner. You haven’t left the parking lot yet when your phone buzzes. 

Unsaved number: had a great time with u

Unsaved number: would love to see u again :) 

It’s not that your skin crawls, but it is a full-body no. 

You: thanks, I’m glad I got to know you more 

It’s not technically a lie. You’re glad you learned he’s not a fit for you. You feel okay about leaving it at that for now. You watch the sunset from your parking spot. The park is filled with couples laying on blankets being romantic. You roll your eyes at them and then at yourself for being bitter. Your phone buzzes again, and you wince, hoping it’s not your long-winded date again. It’s not. 

Joel: what you doing?

Fucking Miller. You scoff aloud in the private space of your front seat. By now, he should be on your blocked list, but the quick hit of euphoria that floods through your bloodstream, warming your cheeks, keeps you hooked. He’s a filthy drug that blinds you from logic or survival instincts. Your eyes dart to the pedestrians in the parking lot. Worried. As if the milling strangers know what you’re up to and are about to shame you. A little voice reminds you that if you feel guilty about something, you shouldn’t be doing it. You ignore that voice. Nobody in the parking lot catches on, coast clear, and you let yourself grin wide as a fool when you type your response. 

Later that night, you’re grinning again. Sprawled across your couch, sweaty skin plastered to the faux leather cushions. Sated. Bought and sold on your own lie, you tell the little voice that you didn’t want Joel to stay anyway. You convince yourself some form of compromise is happening, however twisted, when he shows up and leaves you wrecked. He comes to you. You don’t have to get to know each other to make each other feel good. Whatever puts you at ease. 

Sometimes it works. Some days, you feel hollow and anxious. Obsessively tapping your phone to see if he’s responded when you reach out first. Pacing around your home, stressing over whether you should stay up just in case and even in bed, you can’t help but stay alert for a knock at the door. 

The cycle leaves you with dark circles under your eyes most days. But, on the mornings after Joel shows up, you have a bright twinkle in your eyes and a knowing smirk that greets you in the bathroom mirror. Katie noticed the smirk one day and called you out. She demanded an explanation for the mystery dick fairy. 

You wouldn’t admit his identity to her, afraid of getting too involved with someone in her boyfriend's network. But you did admit to the toxic cycle, and your friend was not as amused as you when you tried to pass it off as a joke. She tried to convince you to look for someone to date, but you argued that wasn’t what you wanted anyway. She suggested at least someone who could commit to a plan or send a text back. You knew it didn’t sound great out loud. 

As the days of summer crawl along, you wonder if she’s right. At least, it was worth considering. It’s a feeble attempt to smother your spiraling thoughts about Joel. Still, when you start getting messages from the dating app Katie chose for you, it gives you something to interrupt your racing thoughts. At first. Somehow, it starts to feel even worse. Ignoring the sinking feeling you get when it isn’t Joel’s name in your notifications gets more challenging. 

You had accepted that it was a lost cause to plan anything with him, but you still can’t find the self-respect to turn him away when he shows up at your door. Sometimes, he sends you a grammatically inconsiderate text. You wonder if he somehow has a cell phone plan that still charges him by the message with the way he uses as few words as possible. 

He never stays. Never invites you to his. He evades any predictable behavior. Maybe he’s worried someone ordered a hit on him. Maybe that’s all it is, you muse. Not a contracted kill. The unpredictability. Chaos. That’s what makes him addictive. The brightness of the highs makes you temporarily forget the darkest lows exist. That, and the dirty little thoughts that pour from his mouth and drip into your psyche. That stupid, sexy voice burning into your memory, yeah, that’s definitely addictive. You snort at that. I am unwell, you think. As you pick up your phone again, you see a message from someone new. 

\\\///

Heat radiates off your face as you fling another shirt across the room. You’ve tried on the same three outfits over and over again. Ripping them over your head and tossing them into the pile of laundry purgatory. Maybe sweating and mouth-breathing is a turn-on for your date; if so, you’re gonna nail the first impression. You sigh and commit to option two: the little black dress. A classic, right? 

“Shit,” you curse at yourself when you stumble while attempting to pull your shoes on as you walk down the hall. This is what you get for agreeing to a late evening date on a weeknight; you feel like a mess. Scrambling to play it cool and classy, you pause to recalibrate before opening the door. What was his name? You can’t remember. He didn’t look like your usual type, but Katie had convinced you to branch out a little. More specifically, she told you it was a green flag already if he wasn’t your type. 

You swing the door open, hoping he introduces himself first. He looks expensive. The dark-washed denim, the boots, the jacket, and the watch. Like he walked out of an ad campaign for a brand out of your budget. Dave. He does introduce himself, thankfully. He’s more clean-cut than your usual type, but he speaks confidently and gives off an air of put-togetherness that intrigues you. His voice definitely stirs the butterflies in your stomach. 

Oh. You realize you’ve definitely been busy staring at him and have no idea what he actually said with his sultry bedroom voice. Your eyes widen a little. You don’t wanna fuck this up and embarrass yourself. Luckily, he seems unbothered. He tilts his head with a seductive half-smile. He’s enjoying the way you assess him. That definitely does it for you. Stupid, smug men making you weak in the knees. 

“You ready?” he asks, voice all smoky for no good reason. 

“Yeah,” you manage to say as you recall how to speak and act human. Until you see his luxury car waiting for you. He clocks your beat of hesitance. 

“Good.” 

His authoritative voice flips the right switch in you, and you let him lead. When he opens the door for you, it’s like the final component of his spell. You are bewitched. Under a thick veil, you didn’t even notice the truck that rolled by as you sank into the leather seat. You didn’t notice when the truck pulled over up the block, idling noisily on the quiet street. No, you were busy, focused on manually breathing and taking in what you’d describe as the interior of a spaceship. 

The good news is that Dave is charming. He is easy to talk to as he drives. Flirty and quick-witted. He asks you questions and pauses to consider your responses. You aren’t sure you have much in common, but you like his self-assured demeanor. 

When you walk into the club he’s brought you to, you hesitate once again, feeling underdressed. The club is split with a lounge on one side of the bar–full of intimate booths and plush chairs surrounding tiny tables and trendy mood lighting. Kind of like a swanky hotel lobby, you decide. On the other side of the bar is a dance floor, dimly lit with loud music blasting. Women in bodycon dresses and heels fill the room. You feel plain in comparison. 

“I didn’t know there was a dress code,” you mutter. 

“There isn’t,” Dave asserts, “besides, you look good in this.” He accentuates his statement by running his hand down your spine. It settles some of your nerves and lights up others. He ushers you, hand on your lower back, towards a small booth. And as you settle in, he’s undeniably charismatic. Dave doesn’t reveal much about himself but keeps you laughing and seems genuinely interested in you.  

Despite the loud music and people noise, it’s easy to feel like the room is only for you and him. You sip your drink and warm up to his affection. You’re quick to smile, and despite how serious he seems, he has a playful edge that has you on your toes. 

You can taste the chemistry between you, bright and sparkling. He spurs your confidence with his dark eyes when he not so subtly lets his gaze linger on your body. You stop shying away from attention and try to bask in it instead. It boosts your ego and stirs up your desire. 

When you let yourself look, really look, you decide Dave is handsome. His strong features, broad shoulders, and impeccable grooming work for him. He seems meticulous but not too uptight to have fun. A dark sense of humor flirts behind his twinkling dark eyes. You decide to let him know that you’ve determined he is a handsome man. He gives you a look. Like he already knew you thought that. Your cheeks warm slightly at that. Were you obvious? 

It’s not until he peels away from you to refill your drinks that you notice how close you have been sitting. You mourn the loss of his body heat as he walks away. You had low expectations after your last few dates, but tonight, this feels different. Your eyes trail along his path to the bar, and you lazily rest your chin in your palm before your breath hitches, and you freeze.  

You feel like you’ve swallowed a bowling ball. It’s lodged in your throat first, then constricting your chest, until finally, it sinks. A heavy, solid weight flipping your stomach. You’re locked on a different set of dark eyes. They’re glowering at you through lowered brows from across the room. Seated at the same bar where Dave ordered your drinks. 

Joel stares at you over his drink. He downs the glass without taking his eyes off of you. One quirked brow, asking really? 

Really what? Is he judging you? For what, being on a date? 

Another glass replaces his empty tumbler, but he doesn’t acknowledge the bartender or the rest of the world.

This fucking guy. 

The bowling ball in your gut mutates into something fiery. But, you have nothing to be guilty about. It’s not your fault he’s alone, bitter, and drinking at a bar full of people having more fun than him. In fact, you could say it’s his fault that you’re both here. 

A scowl forms on Joel’s face when Dave slides back into the booth beside you. Good. You hope he suffers. You hope he sees how easy it is for someone to treat you well. And how happy you look. 

You don’t hesitate to lean your body against Dave, giving in to your urges. You squeeze his arm when he makes you laugh, and your touch lingers. He preens under your admiration when you comment on his firm biceps. He is quick to match your advances. Finding excuses to brush your hair behind your ear and settling a heavy palm on your knee. His hand creeps a little higher up your thigh but doesn’t graze the hem of your dress. Respectful. That’s different. 

You don’t need to look again to feel Joel’s eyes burning into you. It incites you that he has the audacity. The gall to make faces at you for showing up on a date. You decide you’ll give Joel something to scowl about, feeling emboldened by your date’s touch.  

You slide Dave’s hand further up your leg, letting go when he gets the idea. You reach for your drink, feigning nonchalance, but your breath catches, and your hand trembles when he traces his fingertips around the crease of your thigh. He skirts beneath the hem of your underwear, drawing lines over your hip and back towards your center. 

The soft touch tickles deliciously, and you feel the anticipation building in your core. He watches your expression, hawklike, noting the tiniest details in the features of your face. He notes when your breath stutters or your eyelids flutter softly. 

“This what you wanted?” he husks, still watching intently. Yes, yes, yes! 

“Almost,” you toy. Something about having both men’s eyes on you has your skin itching with desire and your blood running hot. 

Dave scoffs softly, repeating your word choice and shaking his head. Almost. 

“You looking for more?” he taunts as he wedges his large hand fully between your legs to cup and tease your cunt. 

You can’t help the breathlessness of the yes that slips out of you. You roll into his palm, and your mouth parts at the friction and his boldness. He smiles wolfishly, flashing his teeth, when he feels you twist and rock against him. His look encourages you. And you tilt your hips and shift your legs to give him better access. 

“Dirty little thing, aren’t you?” he asks, still locked on your face. You swell at this. His eyes lower to your glossy lips before he sips casually from his drink, so composed. 

Your cheeks warm at his words, but he has his answer when he slips a finger beneath the damp lace between your legs and drags it through the pool of arousal gathering at your entrance. Your lips part at the contact, chest heaving, and you give him a nod and coy smile in response to his question. You’ll be his dirty little thing tonight. 

“That’s good,” he declares, pressing a kiss just below your ear before adding, “I’d like to do dirty things to you.” 

His husky voice and declaration stir an urgent need to be touched within you. He continues to agitate your nerves as his hand massages over your swollen sex. Your skin feels tight and prickly, tensing, ready to feel more. You’re unconcerned with the debased nature of being fingered in public. 

When your eyes are instinctually drawn back towards Joel, you shudder. You can feel the twitching of your clit as your cunt floods over Dave’s fingers. The depravity that another man’s glare eases the slip of your date’s teasing touch is not lost on you. Instead, it turns you on even more. Joel’s homicidal stare has you squirming. You’ve seen darkness in his eyes before, but not like this. There’s no twinkle of mocking, and it’s not cruel in a hot way. If looks could kill, then this room would look like the club scene from Blade. 

Dave murmurs something filthy in your ear that makes you gasp. Your hand flies to his thigh, gripping tightly to keep you from melting onto the floor. 

“Don’t be shy, dirty girl,” he croons darkly, “you can touch.” 

“Fuck,” you groan under your breath when you move your hand to find his hard cock straining against his well-fitted jeans. 

He chuckles lowly at the way your eyes widen in response before he plunges two fingers inside of you, and you stifle a throaty sound. Your mind still wanders to Joel, and you wonder if he can see your perverse display below the table. Judging by his clenched fists on the bar, you’d say whatever he can see is enough to fill in the blanks. The sick part of you that feels more turned on by his agony expands within you.  

“Oh god,” you whisper as you suck in air. 

Dave works his fingers lazily into you. You feel intoxicated by the attention of both men. A concern flashes through you that someone else in the club could catch on or see more than you’d like to show. But a feeling in your gut tells you that it doesn’t matter. Dave seems strikingly confident with a lethal attention to detail. And the ferocity on Joel’s face only eggs you on. 

When you think of humbling Joel, a sinister smile pulls at the corners of your mouth. He’s the one that unleashed the horny, risk-taking monster within you and then disappeared. Fuck moping about him. You’re getting yours, you decide. 

You shoot Joel a wink. Pouring gasoline on the fire, hoping it pisses him off. 

You lean into the salaciously tempting energy radiating off of Dave. Reaching to hold his jaw as your lips lock and you let him control your mouth. Kissing him riles you up more. You palm at his erection over his jeans, delighting in the noises that roil deep in his chest. You hold back whimpers as the pressure of his fingers curling inside of you finds the perfect spot. 

He pulls back from your kiss and looks down to watch your hand groping at him. You like watching him watch you. 

“You gonna take it out?” Oh. Fuck, you want to. It feels like more of a risk than you’ve taken so far. 

“Here?” you ask him softly.  

A wrinkle appears between your brows. Dave watches your swollen lips again just as your pink tongue darts out to wet them. He raises a brow at you, eyes dropping to where his arm disappears under your dress. 

“Oh, are you feeling bashful now?” he goads. His fingers curl against that sensitive spot inside of you as his palm presses firmly into your swollen clit. He makes it hard for you to answer. You try to pout at him, but the reflexive rise in your brows at the pleasure betrays you.  He chuckles again. “No? Just distracted, hm?” 

“Fuck,” is all you can mouth. It is distracting. Not the fingers inside you, well, not completely, but the urge. The craving to leverage your lewd new lover’s lack of regard for appropriate behavior into emotional revenge. The thought of Joel growing mad with jealousy as he watches you come overtakes your critical thinking. 

Eat your heart out, Joel Miller! You dare him across the room, letting your jaw fall slack and your brows knit in obvious pleasure. 

“Are you going to come for me?” Dave asks, “Here in this booth? Where anyone could see?” he tuts like he’s disappointed, and it works. The danger of it all does something to heighten your senses. It’s blinding. The bass from the music blaring from the dance floor rattling in your ribs, Dave’s designer cologne filling your nose, the sheen of sweat collecting on your chest, and the daggers in Joel’s eyes when you glance to confirm he’s still watching. All the sensations clash and shove you towards your release. 

“Yes,” you hiss quietly, “yes.” Your eyes slam shut as you try to remain composed while riding his fingers under the table. You flicker in and out of reality as your climax rolls through you. You’re drunk on the reversal of power when your eyes peel open, and you see the hardened expression on Joel’s face glowering at you. You wonder if his dick is just as hard in his pants, and the thought has you contracting again around Dave’s fingers.

“That’s a good girl.” Dave’s voice is somehow even deeper. It sends another ripple of pleasure to swirl low in your abdomen. You’d like to hear that again. 

With a touch more clarity after the violent edge of your arousal is dulled, your hand works at his belt, desperate to feel the heat of his cock in your palm. He assists, lifting his hips when you unbuckle his belt and pop the button on his pants so you can slide your hand beneath his underwear. His tension and urgency further stoke your power trip, and you feel overcome with the need to know how badly he wants you. When you wrap your fingers around him, hear the groan he makes, and feel the mindless buck of his hips, you have a more than good enough answer. He’s yours. 

Dave watches the way your eyes glaze over when your thumb smears the precome dripping from his head down his length. His hand stills distractedly between your legs, and his chin drops as he watches where your hand disappears under his dark boxer briefs. You’re constricted by the elastic waistband, but your grip is tight. Almost as tight as when he fucks his own fist. He’s mesmerized by the way you jerk his cock just right. 

You feel yourself salivating with the need to taste him. You’re getting frustrated with the limited space and want to see him in your hand. You sigh, wishing you could, until you realize you can, and grin. 

You pull your hand back out of his pants, and he snaps out of his stupor. Before he can comment, you cut him off. 

“Keep your pants on and take me to the bathroom so I can suck your cock right.” 

Your voice comes out lower than you thought it would. His eyes flare before he matches your devious look and obeys, spewing filthy thoughts you can’t make out under his breath as he does. He’s ushering you down the hall in seconds, and then you’re locking the door and dropping to your knees. Dave doesn’t wait a second longer, wrenching his belt open and dropping his jeans just enough for his cock to spring free. 

You don’t tease or start slow. He admires how you waste no time like you’re desperate to taste him. And you are. Only pausing for a moment to admire the way he looks, stiff and leaking for you, before you eagerly wrap your lips around him. You slide your tongue everywhere and bob up and down with vigor. Salty and vaguely sweet, precome teases your palette. You want more. The best you can do to express that is swallow around him and suck until he’s moaning and cursing above you. 

You let your saliva pool and spill from your lips so you can slide your hand down the rest of his length while you revel at the weight of him on your tongue. You find the moves that have his fists clenching and thighs straining and repeat them. You hum around him as pride blooms in your chest over how his composure cracks. 

You wonder if Joel has smashed through the bar with his fists yet. At least he didn’t break down the bathroom door before you could get on your knees. Would he strangle Dave first if he saw the two of you? Or would he drag you home and gag you on his angry cock instead? You moan obscenely as your imagination runs wild. You look up at Dave. He watches you with fierce eyes. You wouldn’t mind if they shared you, you consider, but that would take a miracle. 

You continue messily and enthusiastically until your knees ache, and you decide he has to come for you. You try to beg for it while he’s still in your mouth before you have the brains to pull off of him and tell him what you want. He’s endeared by your unrefined hedonism.

He grips your jaw in his palm when you get the words out. 

“You want to swallow my come?” he asks. 

“Yes,” you plead impatiently on your knees with a hoarse voice. You’re a pornographic sight on the tile floor with your wet lashes, swollen lips, and saliva glistening on your chin. You open your mouth for him and hold out your tongue. 

“Oh,” he strokes his thumb along your cheek, smiling down at you, “that’s a good girl.” 

Your eyes close at that, feeling the praise warm your skin before he slides back into your wet mouth. 

Guiding you faster and a little rougher, Dave doesn’t take long to come. Spilling onto your tongue as you groan around him until he stops pulsing in your mouth. You swallow, glowing for him with glassy eyes. He helps you to stand before tucking his softening cock back into his jeans and fastening his belt. You’re adjusting your dress and reaching for your bag on the counter. 

“What do you need?” He asks a little softer than you expected, causing you to pause. 

“Take me home,” you smile at him dopily before pausing and wincing at yourself in the mirror. You look like a freshly face-fucked mess. 

“Uh, actually, give me a few minutes to freshen up first, and I’ll meet you out front?” 

He nods, “I’ll pull the car up.”

“I’d like that.” You reply and lock the door behind him after he slips out. 

Once you feel more presentable, you pull your phone from your bag and tap the screen to check the time before opening the door. 

Seeing Joel’s name makes your stomach flip. You open the text. 

Joel: Miss me? 

It snaps something in you. Something that enrages you. He has to be certifiably insane, you think. It came through a little while ago, but you aren’t sure how long you’ve been in the bathroom. You begin to spiral, debating if you should march to the bar and throw a drink in his face or pretend like he doesn’t even exist. You feel your face burning hot, and the bathroom is suddenly suffocating. You need some air before you get into the car with Dave. Just long enough to breathe normally and look less like you want to break something. 

Leaving the bathroom you find an employee exit further down the hall. A faded sign on the door warns that an alarm will sound, but the rock wedged in the door jam holding it open a crack begs to differ, and you slip into the dark. 

A lanky, pale kid in a black apron sits atop a picnic table in the alley. 

“Oh, sorry,” you feel a little guilty interrupting his break, “just wanted some air.” 

“All good,” he responds before sliding off the makeshift seating. “Last call for the kitchen anyway. Have my seat,” he waves at the table like he’s offering a throne. You accept. Exceedingly grateful to have the air and the privacy to regulate. Just some slow, deep breaths. Then, you can walk out the front door and let Dave take you home. 

The door swings open again, and you tense, ready to hop off the table and find another space. 

“Sorry,” you start your apology, but it’s cut off. 

“You should be,” Joel accuses harshly. He’s in your space with two of his long strides. Rushing at you like you’re caught in a snare trap, and he’s starving. You briefly look the part with your eyes wide in the moonlight, shocked by his sudden appearance, until your barely dampened rage rips from your throat.

“Joel, what the fuck?” you spit out in disbelief, but he interrupts you– 

“I thought I already told you what happens if you’re gonna be a filthy tease?” his voice lowers as he ignores your question and paces in front of you with a dark, wicked stare. 

“What are you doing here?” you press, ignoring his threat. 

“What are you doing here?” he demands. Like he has some certificate of entitlement to your whereabouts. He towers over you. Your eyes narrow to slits. If you could shoot lasers out of them, you’d do it now. 

You laugh. Loudly. You’re still laughing when he grabs you and pivots your frame so your legs dangle off of the end of the table towards him. Closer. He gets even closer, standing between your knees. You tilt your face to look up at him. 

“You on a date?” it’s a growl carved from stone. You choose to remain ignorant to the shiver it sends through you that has nothing to do with the temperature. How dare he charge up on you like a territorial werewolf in the night? And how dare he look so fucking good with that snarly expression? No. You laugh again. Wild-eyed. Words start coming up before you even hear yourself.

“What is wrong with you, Joel? Why were you watching me? You looking for a show?” you jab. Gnashing at him with your words. He snorts dismissively at you, and a barbaric smile creeps onto his face. Like he’s in on some joke you don’t know about. He irks you so bad your skin crawls. 

“S’that what you call it?” he asks, “A show?” Continuing to ignore your other questions. He is so close to you that it burns your skin. 

“No, Joel. You were right the first time. I am on a date. A real date. You know what that is, right? Like, he asked me out, picked me up on time, bought me a drink,” you’re tallying on your fingers, “answered my–”

“And then what, you fuck him in the bathroom and hide out here? Alone in the alley?” 

It clicks. He knows exactly why you’re flustered. The asshole must’ve sent his text for his own slimy experiment. Trying to rattle you. What fucking game is he playing? Is he trying to win you? Like you’re Dave’s possession to lose? 

You scoff at his interjection, “No, Joel, I’m not alone. You followed me out here to make sure of it, right?” 

“Right,” he rumbles. His dark eyes glint even in the shadows of the alley. He leans lower and closer to you until you tip back, palms on the table behind you, then elbows. Exposing your cleavage to the moonlight. He pauses, eyes raking down your face, neck, and chest. How does he make you feel raw and vulnerable even when fully dressed? 

“You haven’t answered me,” you huff. Irritated and arched beneath him. 

“I asked you first,” he argues. A childish rebuttal for a grown man. You’re pretty sure you’ve asked why he’s here a hundred times, but of course, that doesn’t matter. He’s insufferable with his attitude and inability to communicate. Everything about you is taut, and you feel frayed. 

Joel dips his head and his lips brush your ear, tickling you, before he rasps, “I asked if you miss me, baby, and you haven’t answered.” 

A tremor runs through your body. 

It’s criminal. Your mind converts his voice directly into a hot coil of arousal. The throbbing between your legs causes you to wriggle beneath him.

“I need to know,” he croons, begging you to give in. 

His arm slides under your back, lowering you onto the table. Your restraint collapses terribly quickly for him. His voice. His touch. He knows all of your buttons. 

Laid on your back, your legs instinctively wrap around him as he bends to meet you. 

Soft puffs of air shakily flow between your lips as you struggle to concentrate. On what? You aren’t sure. Not good. You squeeze your eyes shut like maybe he’ll disappear. 

“I mean it, baby,” he continues purring with a sharp edge, “you tell me when you miss me.” 

You know it wouldn’t matter even if you did. If you texted him. If you called. It wouldn’t matter. It would probably make you feel worse. But when he says it, you feel your heart doing flips anyway. 

He slides his hands over your body, and you feel the last of your logic escaping as you tug him towards you. You’re grinding against him stupidly without a single thought. Just having him this close to you had you feeling desperate and needy. You could come again right now just by dry-humping like horny teenagers. 

The craving for him is so intense that you’ll surely die if he doesn’t keep moving. You lose any shred of composure that you were still clinging to and let out a needy whine for him. And when your fingers twist and tug at his shirt, it’s like a green light to Joel. 

He closes any and all gaps between you. His hand skates roughly under your dress, bunching up the fabric. He presses open-mouthed kisses against your neck and grazes his teeth enticingly along your jaw. 

Groping, grinding, grunting. All his movements dance a line between deliberate and frantic. 

You have tunnel vision, lost from time and space. When his low moan vibrates through you, your hand shoots to his belt. He rasps into your ear again, “That’s it, baby, I’m right here if you miss me, don’t need some jerkoff tryin’ to waste your time.” Your fingers fumble. What– “Oh, shit!” a voice yells. You freeze. “Don’t mind me!” The drunk guy slurs as he stumbles out the backdoor and sways down the alley towards the street. 

Your situation hits you like a bucket of cold water. Joel seems unfazed, still curled over you. You push at him and sit up. 

“What did you just say, Joel?” 

“Hmm?” he murmurs at you. 

“Joel, I’m serious. What the fuck?” 

He’s not listening. His hands are still searching your body. The scent of his faded deodorant is so familiar in your nose. The words are coming up again. Before he casts his trance on you. 

“No. I said I’m serious,” you repeat, “I’m not playing your games. Done with your weird shit.” Your body feels rigid, and your mind is clearing through the fog of lust. “Just because I have no self-esteem and I fuck you anytime you show up on my doorstep doesn’t mean you have any claim to me.” 

He blinks at you, finally registering your tone, expression shifting. “I actually tried, you know? I wanted to get to know you. You just bail. I keep suffering for it. Like an idiot. I keep thinking it would show I care.” 

“Baby–” 

“And now what? You see me on a date and decide it would be fun to ruin it? Ruin a chance at something better than waiting around wondering if you’ll show up looking to score?” You’re on your feet now. Livid. Ablaze in the dark. “No, you don’t even care enough to think about that,” you realize aloud. 

His features harden. Your head shakes slowly, exasperated with your burgeoning understanding. All you can hear is the white noise buzzing in your skull. Your next words are quieter and lower, forcing him to pay close attention. 

“You just wanted to prove something, right? Thought you’d fuck me on this table and run like you always do? For what, to prove you could?” 

His nostrils flare, and you don’t miss how he grits his teeth.

You don’t falter; he doesn’t scare you. You press on with your accusations prickly on your tongue. You back him against the wall next to the door as you continue. 

“You don’t like hearing it?” you cock your head at him, amused with his discomfort. “Were you going to leave me here in the alley full of your come like I’m some pathetic whore for you? Would you walk me back to my date after that? Was that your plan?” 

Joel snaps, manhandling you in a split second. Pinned against the brick wall, you can hear your heart pounding. It’s a paper-thin line between anger and lust, and you can’t tell which has your blood pumping. You can’t tell if he’s about to yell at you or fuck you. You hate that you can’t tell which you’d prefer.

His eyes are locked onto yours. Not revealing anything. You shift, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. He doesn’t keep you waiting. Joel shoves his hand into your panties, fingers slipping immediately into the fresh pool of arousal between your thighs. A shaky exhale comes out of you, but he doesn’t seem to need to blink or breathe anymore. 

He brings his glossy fingers to your mouth. Silent. He taps at your lip until you open and suck, tasting yourself. His mask slips a little. One brow twitches as he studies the scene of your lips wrapped around both of his fingers. But his eyes flick to yours when he pulls them out of your mouth and drags them down your bottom lip, smearing spit against your chin. 

“Tell me,” he says in a whisper that scrapes across your skin, “does it taste like you miss me?” 

You swallow tightly. A lump forms in your throat now, about as large as a civilization-ending asteroid. 

You can hear your phone buzzing. Forgotten on the table. Panic streaks over your eyes as you wonder how long you’ve been out here. You duck under his arm, dashing for your phone. You don’t look at him. You can’t. As you sprint down the hallway, you swing the door open, kicking the rock in the door jam, hopefully locking Joel outside. Cursing at yourself for almost letting Joel fuck you in the alley across from a dumpster.  

Dave sits in his car, idling along the curb near the front of the club. You’re surprised he didn’t leave. You hope it hasn’t been long. You don’t dare check your phone. Maybe it was only a few minutes, or it could have been an hour. You don’t think time functions normally when you’re around Joel. 

Dave is frighteningly observant, slinking out of his car to open the door for you before you get close enough to reach for the handle. 

“I was just starting to wonder if you’d snuck out the back door,” he chides. 

You feel the blood rushing to the surface of your skin. Hot with embarrassment over your behavior and his on-the-nose word choice. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I did step out for some air. Wanted to cool down.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he assures you, tilting your chin towards his face with his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes dart around his face, wondering what he sees on yours. “Was it too much, dirty girl?” he coos. 

“What, this?” you lilt mockingly as you palm over his bulge, “I don’t think so.” 

“Good,” he snorts softly. “Get in the car.” He adds as he opens the door for you. 

He pauses before pulling away from the curb once seated in the driver’s side. 

“Is your boyfriend going to be following us home?” 

“My what?” you feel the blood drain from your face. 

“The one from the bar,” he continues, measured and eerily calm, “the one who followed us here?” Your head starts spinning at that, but Dave carries on, unbothered. “I assumed he likes to watch. You should’ve told me. It would’ve been easier than wondering if he’s a deranged stalker or–” 

“No.” You cut him off and struggle to continue for multiple reasons. “It’s not like that. I thought it was a coincidence,” you feel a confusing mix of emotions. 

“Followed us?” you’re curious. 

“When I picked you up. In the truck?”

“Oh god. No. He’s,” you pause, searching for the right words. 

“An ex?” 

“Not even that. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe he’d follow me.” 

“So he is dangerous?” 

“No.” Only to my self-respect. 

“You want me to take care of him?” 

“No.” You reply before putting any thought behind what that means. “No. He’s just an asshole with a staring problem.” 

You withdraw. You hadn’t thought about why Joel was here. How ridiculous it sounds to imagine Joel voluntarily sitting at the bar in a club like this alone. You feel the blood rushing to your ears. Stupid little butterflies flap their wings in your stomach before they’re reduced to ashes, and you begin to see red again tonight. How is Joel ruining your night without saying a word this time? 

“Take me home,” you say firmly.

He does. Dave walks you to your door. You invite him in, but he’s observant, noticing the clouds in your expression. He declines your invite but assures you he would be very interested in seeing you again. He gives you a chaste kiss that makes you laugh, considering how bold you both have been tonight. It lightens your mood. 

He lingers for a moment before he pulls out his wallet. 

“It was on the house this time,” you snark. Curious about what he’s doing. 

He hands you a sleek business card. A business card? Is this guy Patrick Bateman? 

Your face wrinkles in confusion. 

“I already have your number,” you flip the card over in case you’re missing something. It doesn’t say anything, just has a phone number. 

“I meant what I said, that I’d be interested in seeing you again for pleasure,” he smirks, “but if you change your mind, at least keep this.” 

You don’t understand why you’d need his work phone number but try to play it cool and nod. 

“If your stalker becomes a problem, you call me.” 

You’re still confused about what that means when he drives away. As you shut your door, you realize you have no idea what he does. 

You’re still in the middle of composing a text to Katie about how her green flag date included a bathroom blowjob and a business card when you hear a knock at your door. You swing it open, assuming foolishly that it would be Dave. 

Before you can blink, Joel kicks the door shut and backs you down the hallway. He looks like a man possessed as he hurtles towards you. It sends a chill down your spine that you think would trigger your fight or flight response, but yours seems to be reprogrammed to fight or fuck. Staggering backward, you yelp when the backs of your knees hit your mattress. 

“Can I fucking help you?” you snap at him as you realign with reality. “Jesus Christ, Joel, were you waiting outside the window or something?” 

You glare into his eyes, but a toxic part of you only wants to focus on his lips. And how close they are to yours. You also can’t deny the even more debauched part of you that flutters at the possessive look in Joel’s eyes. 

He laughs darkly, “Nah baby, I knew you’d send him on his way.” 

You roll your eyes at that. Cocky bastard. 

And he is. He emits a frenzied energy as he takes you in. Looking you up and down like a prize. Like he’s considering where to write his name on your skin. 

You roll your shoulders. Trying to shake off the idea that you’d like to be possessed by him, but it thrums persistently inside of you. 

“You didn’t know shit, Miller,” you accuse sardonically. 

Joel reaches for you. You think he’s going to tell you off. But his hands glide over the tops of your shoulders and up the column of your neck until he’s cupping your jaw in both hands. It feels jarring and vulnerable to be held by him this way. To feel like he just wants to look at you and to know you can’t look away. You wonder what’s going on behind his dark eyes. What he sees when he looks at you What he thinks. 

The longer he looks at you, the more the tension builds (of course, because it’s Joel). You start to itch, fingers twitching with the need to grab him and pull his full weight on top of you. Despite your building desire, he’s still quietly reading your face. Joel Miller, the enigma, you muse. 

Before you can flip him any shit, his mouth is on yours, and his hands drop to your hips to hold you firmly against his body. You want him to keep holding you there, but closer. You need him even closer. 

He groans into your mouth, and you kiss him back hungrily. Your bodies slot together in a twisted fate. You couldn’t care less about the date you just had at this moment. You can hear Joel’s words from previous encounters that have burrowed into your consciousness, and you’re starving for more.  

A selfish and greedy satisfaction warms in your chest at him being in your bedroom. He pulls your lower lip between his teeth before breaking away to tease bites along your neck and shoulder. You shiver. Your fingers dig into his shirt, pulling him closer and closer until your knees buckle, and fall into the bed with him on top of you. He doesn’t stop trying to taste you everywhere, trying to feel every part of you. You breathe out single-syllable praise as your thoughts become hazy.  

You still feel needy. You writhe and strain as you attempt to work his shirt up his broad frame. You’re insistent on feeling the blistering heat of his skin against yours. He leans back up, out of your grip, causing you to sigh in exasperation. Of course, it couldn’t be this easy. What does he have to say now?

“You want me to leave?” 

“What? Why?” you growl out. He is not about to body slam you into a bed and then walk away. 

“Thought you were done with my ‘weird shit’ or whatever you called it,” he taunts. 

“I am,” you huff.

“Tell me to stop.” You can’t. 

“Take your clothes off,” you answer instead. 

He does. Then, he’s pulling your clothes off and climbing over you. You aren’t sure you’ve ever both been fully naked like this. Definitely not while in a bed, at least. It’s more intimate than your relationship calls for. It makes time feel syrupy, but your other senses feel sharply tuned. Joel’s breath fans hot over your ear as he tucks his face into the corner of your neck and shoulder. 

“So,” he sucks at your delicate skin before continuing in his smoky tone, “your date couldn’t satisfy you?” 

“Shut up,” you snarl at him, uninterested in playing games. You’re too lost in the intensity of his physical presence. You need him inside of you, and you tug at his body, trying to pull him closer. It’s useless. His strong arms are braced like two stone pillars on either side of you. 

He’s such a pest. His mouth quirks, and he looks all too pleased with himself. You roll your eyes again. You know what he’s getting at. What he wants to hear you say. But, you’re reluctant to stroke his ego. He’s going to be unbearable if. The thorn of it that hurts the most, though, is that it’s not a lie. It’s an admission. A confirmation. 

He makes you feel so good in ways nobody else ever could, but the pain of knowing he’ll never be yours eats at you. It feels like exposing your beating heart in your chest to confess you want him so badly. You ache to hear him tell you he only wants you again. Even if it’s not real, you lie to yourself, you just need to hear it.  

While you wrestle with finding the words, he begins to torment you. The heat and arousal weigh heavily between your naked bodies. He lowers closer and closer to where you need him most but refuses to alleviate your painful want. Wickedly, he exploits your neediness. Teasing at your skin with his tongue, teeth, and breath. 

“Tell me, baby. Just let me hear it,” he says. But you can’t. 

When he blows air over your strained nipples, and you arch under him seeking contact, he darts down to kiss at your stomach and inner thighs instead. When he gets closer and closer to the apex of your thighs, grazing his nose over your mound, you could snap. 

You reach to dig your fingers into his hair and direct his mouth to your throbbing clit, but he’s stronger than you. Devilish man. He crawls back up to hover over your face. You know he’s enjoying it. Wondering how quickly you’ll break. It makes you want to kick and scream.

“Tell me it’s not true then,” it’s a challenge directed at you, but it feels like he’s also challenging himself. 

He drags the head of his cock over the slick lips of your cunt without precision or direction. You are so convinced he’s torturing you, but he looks like he’s in pain from restraining himself as well. It makes you crazy. You try to reach down to line him up with your entrance yourself, but he’s faster. He grabs your hand and pins it above your head. 

“Fine,” you grit out. Frustrated. You aim to smother your fear with sarcasm and puff your chest, hoping it works. 

“You’re right, Joel. It’s true.” He doesn’t move, waiting to hear more. 

“I missed your filthy mouth and your big fat cock.” You mock with an exaggerated whine. You keep going before you lose courage. “And my date couldn’t satisfy me.” You pause, steeling yourself. The corner of his mouth twitches.

“Because even when I had his cock down my throat,” you force yourself to look in his eyes, “all I could think about was you.” 

You tried to keep the snarky, biting tone in that last part, but your voice betrayed you when you met his eyes. It came out sounding as vulnerable as it felt to say. His expression flickers. You feel too honest. You should take it back. You want to curl up. He grins above you. 

“I know, baby,” he coos. You hold your breath. Of course he’s going to be a condescending ass about it, you start to bemoan internally–but when he finally sinks into you, it shuts off your inner monologue and slows down time. “All I can fuckin’ think about,” he says as he fills you as deeply as possible, letting a satisfied sigh fall from his lips. 

All I can fuckin’ think about. 

The words rattle around in your mind. Joel begins to rock into you, deliberately grinding his pelvis against you. All he can think about is you, too? Or fucking you? Or how he’s ruined you for other men? 

All I can fuckin’ think about. 

It echoes in your head as he picks up his pace, splitting you open with heavy, mind-altering thrusts. Suffocatingly intimate. Face to face. Skin to skin. Soul to soul. His voice isn’t just echoing in your mind; he’s also running his mouth about something. Muttering about how he knew you’d be waiting for him, how he’s going to fuck you until you forget your date's name, how nobody else can satisfy your needy cunt. 

Oh. 

He’s not wrong. You want to hear more. 

“Yes,” You can stoke this fire. You don’t mind finding out what happens if you rile him up while he’s inside you. “Only you,” you pant, “nobody else fucks me like you do.” 

He makes a throaty noise in agreement and shifts. Large hands wrap around the back of your knees and press them towards your chest, tilting your hips up. You choke and sputter as he slams into you with force. The new angle creates a blissful intensity. 

“That’s right,” he says, “nobody else.” 

He pounds into you like he could fuck you through the mattress, maybe even through the floor. The lewd sound of his thighs slapping against your ass fill the room. You tuck your chin to your chest to watch the way each thrust makes your breasts bounce. You notice that he’s mesmerized by the same sight, and you take the opportunity to shift your gaze, studying the look on his face. 

It’s more sensual than anything you’ve done together before. You can see the sweat beading on his chest from exertion. You’re nearly folded in half and unable to stop your soft cries and moans. It’s raw, sticky, and vulnerable. You feel warmed at the thought but also fragile. Breakable. Hypersensitive emotionally and physically. It’s all too bright and hot. 

You let his voice push you over the edge, and your climax rips fiercely through your body. You faintly hear him groan as your tight walls contract around him, but his voice is drowned out by the pleasure. Your legs tremble, still balanced over his shoulders. 

Your core muscles spasm as he keeps sawing into you until your hips are jerking at the sensitivity of your come down. He slows, breathing heavily over you. You can see the animalistic edge in his eyes. You have to push it. Play it out. 

“Make me yours,” you incite. 

You definitely just meant to imply, ‘fuck me hard and come inside me, please,’ but you worry he’s interpreted it differently when he drops your legs. Wrong. He turns you over, laying you flat on your stomach, pulling your arms behind your back, and pinning you to the bed.  He straddles your closed legs. Your shoulders strain a little as he leans into you. His heavy body compresses your prone form, and his cock weighs heavy against the curve of your ass; it feels right. A perverted comfort blanket, stealing your breath. 

“Repeat it,” he tells the back of your neck. 

“Make me yours.” You turn your head to the side. You can’t see his face, but you can hear the string of curses he chants when he lines up and wedges himself into you. The added constriction of your position unravels you both. 

“Mine,” he grunts. You muffle your own noises into the sheets, along for the ride. He doesn’t last much longer before you feel him still overtop of you. You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation of the pulsing and throbbing of his cock inside you as he fills you up. Breathing deep, your back rises against his chest before he slides off of you.

You roll onto your side. Facing each other, you still at the sight of him. Another breath shared between you, chests expanding towards each other. For the briefest moment, you think he might stay. You can see the soft edge of relaxation in his features. Your hand drifts toward him, an instinct based on nothing rational, just wanting to feel him. You feel the stupid, dreamy expression settling on your face. Before you can speak or figure out what you were reaching for, he’s snapped out of the bubble of tranquility. His walls are up. 

He’s dressed and leaving, walking towards the door as you can only sigh into your dirty sheets. 

He doesn’t even leave with a snide last word. Just the door closing. 

if you'd like to be on a taglist please let me know !

[jeongharine]

syntax ERROR: the right formula

⚝ wonwoo x reader

⚝ comedy, smut

⚝ notes: you and wonwoo decide to take the thing between you on level two. but no one has to know about it. you would rather die than to have someone figure out about your sexual escapades with the local nerdy fuckboy. it is an ego thing. (part i)

(thanks to everyone who read and liked part one, i’ve never received such an amount of likes for something that i posted <3 i hope you will like this part as well, it is a bit longer but i had a little fun in writing some teasing ooof enjoy it, have a good early summer period and stay safe x)

“can you actually believe that, y/n? he ghosted me for i don’t know three weeks, and then he had the nerve to ask for a tit pic,” nabi sighs, taking a sip from her blue-ish drink.

“you know what? i’m so done with men. all of them. we really ar- are you even listening to me?” 

you are caught off guard by the clicking of her fingers in front of your eyes. truth is, you are only half present, the other half of you is scanning the whole floor, trying to see if there’s a certain someone amongst the agglomeration of bodies. 

“yeah, sure, sorry,” you apologize, leaning your side against the wall. “i was somewhere else for a second. you were saying that he ghosted you?”

“i’m never talking to him again. or any man.” “hm,” you hum, crossing your arms. you actaully don’t know who she is trying to convince at this point, because that must’ve been the fifth time you heard your friend giving you that speech (during that semester alone). 

“really, i don’t know why those guys haven’t been thrown out of the campus yet. they’re a hazard, including your brother from what i’ve heard. sorry. but yeah, they’re a threat to public health,”

you shrug, because honestly you don’t care that much about their business. and that is important to keep it low.

“could be worse, though, i could be one of the poor girls getting fucked by one of them in their spare time,” 

oh. 

you giggle, a little nervous. “yeah, yeah,” you agree, looking back at the mass of students. “yeah, that’d be totally awful.” 

“i couldn’t even count on my fingers the amount of girls that had one night stands with one of them, and somehow proceeded in becoming completely whipped and infatuated, only to be told that they don’t ‘fuck the same person twice’. like… what the fuck is that? who do they think they are? sorry that your brother is involved in this discourse, but he’s kind of a prick,”  

you laugh, noticing the tinge of red that covers her cheeks. “you sound really drunk,” 

“i’m not bullshitting you. they’re pricks and that’s on period,” 

she raises her cup in a silent cheer, and took another sip. “i know you’re not involved in the fuckboy thing that plagues this campus and, honestly, you’re better off that way. but trust me when i say that they aren’t worth the headache,” 

with an inattentive nod, you take another peek at the strangers filling the space near you. “i believe you, don’t worry. i know my thing or two,” 

the worst part? you do. 

and the even worse bit? there are two things wrong with what she has just told you. 

number one: yes, they could be kind of jerks sometimes. but they aren’t completely soulless, at least some of them. they are fun to be around, actually, when picked alone and not in group, or when they are not trying to impress someone into sleeping with them.

number two: they fuck the same person twice, if feeling like it. at least wonwoo. and you know that because you’ve been fucking him on and off for the past five months or so. 

when you first met him, you weren’t exactly after a “secret friends with benefits” relationship. you just needed a math tutor. but long story short, you didn’t expect to fall victim to his charms, melting under his tender kisses, moaning his name as he rolled his hips against you, edging your orgasm for longer than you can hold it. and you surely didn’t expect to like it as much as you do. 

truth is: jeon wonwoo is everything, but he isn’t dumb. he knows that he is attractive and smart as hell - he knows that with his voice so silky and deep just saying the right words is enough to have you in bed with him, and he knows how to use the two things very well. 

apart from also corrupting you in games hours.

also, you are human, alright? and there is something extremely tempting about sleeping with your brother best friend, especially when he keeps coming back to you. it’s only nature to want to feel special every once in a while. 

again: it is an ego thing. 

plus no one ever caught you. not nabi or any of your other friends. as far as you are aware, wonwoo’s group doesn’t know a thing either, which makes you appreciate him even more because you don’t know how hoshi could take this.  

so yeah, he isn’t a total douchebag. he has the most basic sense of loyalty. 

x

with a sigh, you push your body away from the wall, fumbling with your purse. you are praying that- oh there he fucking is. 

the moment that you see wonwoo, sitting on the couch across from you, you forget how to breathe for a moment. 

he looks better than you had anticipated: dressed in all black, with his thighs spread across the seat, ready to be fucked right then and there. his dark long hair is parted in the middle, with a few stubborn strands falling over his angelic features, as his gaze navigates around the room, staring at nothing in particular.

next to him, there is another one of his friends, seokmin, talking about something animatedly but wonwoo is paying no attention. 

his expression is one of irritation, you notice, with his thick eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenching. but when his gaze falls on you, however, wonwoo’s perceived annoyance instantly dissipates. 

you watch as his eyes meet your own, then he trails down your body with desire, stopping around the level of your thighs for a bit longer than you have predicted. 

you know that stare awfully well: it is the same one that he gives you when he sees you around campus, or in the pc-bang when you’re winning or when you actually understand the concepts that he’s teaching you. the silent provocation that tells you, and only you, that he really wants to have some alone time right now. 

a tricky smirk sprouts at the corner of his lips, and he leans back against the couch. you follow his movements as he reaches towards his pocket and extracts his phone, staring at you as he does so. he unlocks it, taking a final glance at your expectant features before he starts to type something.

[00:23] wonu: so glad to see that you came  

[00:23] wonu: will you do me a favour and meet me in the bathroom upstairs? second door to the right ;) 

and what can you do when he’s asking it like this? you take the stairs and you wonder, as you open your way through the crowd of sweaty bodies and spilling drinks, if you aren’t trying too hard to rationalize and catastrophize something that is actually very simple. 

a story with a beginning, a middle part, and a satisfying ending: you two want to fuck each other, you do, then you move right forward. no hidden feelings, no strings attached. that’s it. couldn’t get any better than that. 

but maybe, it isn’t everything about that, and you know it. it is also about overhearing the other girls talking as you make your way upstairs, complaining about how ridiculously hot and pretty he is. it is about having that steamy, trembling secret between the two of you. it is about knowing that yeah, wonwoo is crazy hot and smart and funny and you can have that whenever you want.

x

just like the calm before the storm, there is a moment of quietness and stillness between the instant of when you lock the door, and the one when you see him. 

as you turn around, dwelling in his proximity, you think about a million things at the same time: about teasing him for his location choice, or maybe about how he must’ve been going through a drought, if he has to count on his covert booty call to get laid at a party. 

before you can say anything, wonwoo’s lips are on yours, attacking your mouth in a fervorous kiss. you whimper in surprise as he pushes you against the closed bathroom door, his hands circling your waist as he squeezes your body against his. your purse falls on the ground with a muffled sound, but you barely even notice it. 

it is something else, really. tonight, he’s kissing you as if he physically can’t contain himself long enough to do anything else - as if all that he can think of doing is to feel the heavenly contact of your mouth against his, while your fingers pull strands of his hair.

as he invites his tongue inside your mouth, wonwoo groanes and lowers his hands, squeezing your ass like he is about to lose every last ounce of sanity he has left in him. you sigh as he moves his focus onto your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses. 

“someone’s excited,” you comment, slightly breathless. the only response you get is another groan, and the rolling of his hips against your inner thigh where you can feel his dick, already semi-hard, pressing. 

“couldn’t even bother to take me somewhere else,” 

“i just needed to have you now. have you seen how hot you are?” his voice comes out muffled against your skin, the reverberations of his timbre propagating directly towards your core. 

“i see you’re starting to get more adventurous with this,” you bite down on your lower lip and he sucks your flesh, groping your ass once again. “parties and nights out used to be so off limits to you.” 

wonwoo chuckles against your neck, moving back towards your mouth. he starts making out with you again, his breath hot and heavy against your face, and you start to think how you could very well pass out seen the level of craving building inside of you. 

“i changed my mind.” he speaks as he leans back. 

you smirk at his attitude. “we’ll end up getting caught,” 

“aw, baby,” he pouts, looking at you with artificial pity. “are you afraid your brother is going to find out?”

okay, he can be kind of a prick sometimes. 

“so i can leave, then?” you raise one eyebrow, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck. 

“you can, the door is right behind you. you know i’m not one to insist,” wonwoo tells you, quickly losing interest in this part of the conversation. “but something tells me you won’t.” 

you don’t even try to respond, because there is nothing to be said: both of you know what you are doing there, and the idea of walking out is just too ridiculous to consider. 

with a suspire, you watch as wonwoo moves his lips down your chest, stopping at the fabric of your blouse. 

“what if someone hears us?” you suddenly remember, heartbeat quickening at the thought. 

“what is it?” he asks as his fingers work on your buttons, exposing more of your chest. the slow pace of his is going to kill you one of these days. 

“you’re worried that people are going to find out about this? about us? when you’re always begging to be fucked in the room next to your brother’s one or when there’s someone at my dorm?” 

you open your mouth to respond but his chuckle, so deep and melodious, catches you off guard. 

“how scandalous, right? you are not the pure little thing you make yourself to be,” wonwoo continues, finally opening your blouse and fully exposing your bra to him. he hums with delight. “red lace? you really want to tease me,” 

you swallow dry as he takes the blouse off your shoulders and gently places it beside the sink, above a towel. he can be so thoughtful and gentle. 

“wonu, i-“ “you’re such a little brat sometimes, you know that?” he interrupts, eyes following his own movements as his hands circle your body, moving to unclasp your bra. and of course he gets it right on the first try. 

“you came all the way up here just to get fucked, and now you’re worried that people are going to know about it,” you stare him down, a smirk already creeping up in the corner of your lips. 

“how does that make me a brat?” 

he smiles. “don’t try to to play the naive card on me,” another agile movement of his fingers and your bra joins your blouse besides the sink. 

wonwoo sighs deeply at your exposed breasts, trying to imprint that sight into the back of his mind. “pretending as if you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. you can drop the act now, y/n,” “i don’t-“ his mouth attacking you is all that you needed to shut up and let him do what he wants really.

overwhelmed by the sensation, you let out a gasp as his hand squeezes you, playing with you as he moans against your skin. 

“i love it so much,” he hums, moaning at the marvelous sensation of your warm skin against his tongue. you were almost forgetting how much wonwoo aches to play with your tits - not that you are complaining. 

“and i love that it’s all for me,” he breathes out before placing kisses again.

you whimper at the contact, arching your back in a failed attempt to get closer to him. as much as you know he is most likely to just say whatever he thinks would turn you on, wonwoo’s words expand inside your chest, building a heat that seems to suffocate you. even if you know it is bullshit, maybe not all of it, you like to be called his. ego strokes and all of that. 

“wonu…” there is only a thin wooden door separating you two from the outside world, and at the moment you can’t care less if they hear you calling out his name. the guy really does wonders to your anxiety. 

but he also likes to tease you. 

he moves away from your breasts and you almost, almost, cry out in frustration. but wonwoo starts to trace kisses back to your neck, then to your jawline. and you feel like you’re going crazy with all that back and forth.

“i’m not gonna lie, i understand where you’re coming from,” he says. “i like to keep this as a secret too. it’s so hot.” 

you almost forget how to inhale when he aligns his face with yours, placing a peck on your swollen lips. “yeah?” you ask, sounding as if you are in a daydream. 

“yeah,” he agrees, breathless. 

even if wonwoo tries his best to look as if he’s under total control, you know that he can’t keep that front for too long. he is clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh is all of the proof that you need. he

even if wonwoo tries his best to look as if he’s under total control, you know that he can’t keep that front for too long. he is clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh is all of the proof that you need. he’s close to get too worked up.

“it’s so great to know that i have one of the sexiest nerdy girls on campus just for myself…” his hand trails up your thighs, adventuring in the lands beneath your skirt. “and no one knows.”

you bite your lower lip, anticipating the contact of his hand against your core. “what’s so tempting about it?” you ask. 

he smiles. “ah… many things,”

your stare doesn’t vacillate. “i’d like an example,” 

instead of answering you straight away, wonwoo decides to take his sweet time. he leans his head to the side and kisses you feverishly, growing satisfied with the the small whimpers and breaths that echoes in between your mouths. his hands are all over you: on your ass, your waist, down your thighs and up your hips, where his eyes can not see. you only have your skirt and your panties on, and it is so frustrating to still feel him fully dressed against you. 

at last, he pulls away, placing his forehead against yours. as he speaks, you feel the tingle of his hands as they move towards the hem of your panties. 

“i like seeing you walk around campus, knowing that you’re sore from the night before,” he speaks slowly, his voice in a low vibration against your mouth. “and i know you don’t tell any of your friends about it. about how i fucked you so good that you almost cried,” 

you hum, closing your eyes. “what else?”

much to your dismay, his hands leave your underwear again, coming out to pull you closer. “when you send me those audios late at night,” he’s breathing out hard then, drowning in those lewd memories. “crying out my name… ” he stops and takes a big breath. “how am i supposed to say no to that? so there i go, out the door, telling your brother that i’m going to the library to study, instead of saying that i’m going to see his crazy hot sister and that i’m going to fuck her…” he hesitates. “and i just get this… adrenaline rush because he and my other friends don’t know it’s you.” 

“and how do you know that i like any of it?” you tease. 

wonwoo snickers at your question. both of you know that it is plastered all over your face, but he can keep up with that little teasing if you want to. 

“two reasons,” he says. “first: you do the same to me, or don’t you?” 

“i don’t recall,” you respond, forging innocence. okay, maybe you do like to play the naive part. 

“oh no? what a terrible memory you have, i see why you do badly in exams when you don’t study with me. now, let me remind you,” he places a strand of your hair behind your ear, his words hitting your skin in heated, libidinous waves. wonwoo is so close that you can count his eyelashes if you want to, his torso squeezed so tight against yours that you wonder how you even manage to breathe in this position. 

“it was just last week, babe. you called me to your flat after your roommate had left,” one of his hands goes back to play with the hem of your underwear, fingertips feeling like sparks against your skin. 

“you got so horny with just the thought of having me, isn’t that right?” much to your surprise, your voice comes out a lot more steady than you have expected. “don’t flatter yourself, you don’t know that.”

wonwoo laughs, placing his warm, swollen lips against the skin of your neck. “i don’t,” he agrees, digits pressing against your clothed area. 

you know he feels how wet your panties have become, so there’s no reason to keep that up. regardless, you kind of like it. 

“but i do remember how much you wanted me that night. how many times did i fuck you that night? and you just had to keep quiet, because your neighbours could have been catching something. that was so cute,” 

you sigh, your insides in knots over the tension you are sustaining. you hate him sometimes. hate how good he is. “i wasn’t counting.” 

“i know,” he swiftly pulls the fabric of your underwear to the side. 

“and this right here, this is the second reason. look at this,” his digits move, teasing you and you have to suppress a moan. “you’re always ready. i love that. you’re so good to me.” 

god, you are so close to lose it.

“so quiet all of a sudden,” his nose delicately trails up your neck, his mouth meeting the angle of your jaw in open kisses. in an attempt to ground yourself, your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging through his t-shirt. you can still feel wonwoo’s fingers playing. you hate him. or not. you don’t know. 

“i know i leave you speechless, sometimes, but i wan to hear you too,” 

strong and steady, his other hand meets the curvature of your waist, pressing your body against his.

“nothing? y/n, you’re especially irresistible tonight,” his eyes are somewhat dazed, unfocused and hooded. he appears as if he’s two seconds away from fucking you raw against the wall, and you seriously wouldn’t mind at this point. 

“you know why i called you here?” “because you want to fuck me,” you respond without missing a beat. 

“i do, of course,” he places his forehead against yours, and you whimper. 

“and the best part is that no one will even know it,” he continues. against your best judgement, your knees are getting weaker by the minute, the knot in your abdomen about to untie.

“just you and i. just the two of us will know how much you begged.” 

“wonu,” you call out, hands tangling themselves in the roots of his silky hair. you whisper out his name again, your voice coming out in such a promiscuous tone. 

god, wonwoo loves hearing the effect he has on you. 

x

maybe jeon wonwoo does also have a golden dick. 

above you, he smirks at the sensation of your mouth around his thumb, his other hand coming to place small caresses on your hair. after he removes his thumb from your mouth, you get back to your feet. it swiftly crosses your mind that your legs might give out eventually but, thankfully, they seem a bit more firm than what you have anticipated. 

“better?” you ask. 

“perfect.” wonwoo kisses you, sighing against your mouth. he pulls away gradually, his body still moving a bit slow.

“you always are.” 

“aw, how nice of you,” you smile at his compliment, walking towards your pile of clothes. “always with the compliments.” 

he hums in agreement, watching your naked body - your fingers holding that red bra he adores so much. “do we have any lesson programmed this week?” 

an incredulous laugh ruptures your lips as you clasp your bra behind your back. 

“we just had sex, and you’re already thinking about studying time?” 

he shruggs. “i like to have a schedule,” 

“i don’t actually remember, but we can game at mine wednesday,” your skirt moves up your legs, all the way up to your waistline. from the corner of your eyes, you can see wonwoo fumbling with his own jeans, which he now curses for being inside out. 

“can you pass me some toilet paper?” you ask him, eager to clean the mess between your legs. there’s no way you are going to put your panties back on, even if the thought of going commando isn’t exactly the most welcoming either. 

wonwoo is sitting on the toilet lid, putting his jeans back, and simply nods in agreement before doing so. “i’d like to know, though,” he insists.

you smile, taking a cheeky glance at him. “oh, so you are needy. since when you’re so needy?” 

he groans. “i’m not needy, shut up.” the sound of his zipper closing echoes inside the cubicle. 

“well, you can have this as a memory, if you’d like.” 

you throw your red panties at him, watching as his face grows interested at the piece of cloth in his hands. wonwoo sighs, tugging his t-shirt back inside his pants. 

“you’re killing me,” he complains. “good.” you smile, turning back at him. “how do i look? presentable?” 

he examins you for an instant, taking in the details of your form. “it doesn’t look like you just got fucked, if that’s what you’re asking,” 

“great!” you swirl around, “have a nice night, wonu. and don’t get too excited with the panties,” 

wonwoo gets up and walks closer to you, your underwear safely guarded in his hands. you are positive he’s going to have fun with it later. “you’re going home already?” he asks. 

“yeah, you did a good job at making me tired,” the clicking of the lock is a pleasant reminder that no one tried to open the door during your alone time.

wonwoo chuckles, leaning closer to you and he places a kiss on your forehead. 

“good night, then. thanks for the panties,” you laugh. “you’re welcome.” 

x

the building is glowing in the most diverse colours from the outside, and the sound of the music is like a distant pulse.

you watch, heart clenching inside of your chest, as wonwoo steps out of the front door with hoshi and seokmin - his head hanging low and a smile at the corner of his lips. 

there is a volume in his front pocket, where you are sure he has tugged in your panties.

“i think that we should go home and sleep. but let’s keep this conversation on hold,” wonwoo cuts off the conversation. seokim, however, isn’t satisfied. 

“you know that i’ll find out eventually,” he says, trying not to trip while walking. 

“i always do. and hoshi knows it well.” 

hoshi laughs, meeting wonwoo’s eyes. on the other side of the street, you and nabi take the opposite direction, having wonwoo to turn his head quickly at you. 

“wonu-yah, i think you should give those lacy panties hanging off your pocket back to my sister tomorrow,”

“what-” “oh fuck!” a tomato red face wonwoo grabs them, while seokim trips and nearly cries out loud in the middle of the street.

[kaiser1ns]

𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

╹synopsis :: you hated him from the moment he showed up at the bastard munchen tryouts — you can't stand him, it's impossible, or so you thought.

╹contents :: 8.9 k words aka word vomit, fluff and two kind of suggestive scenes,mostly pre-timeskip kaiser, reader is football fanatic, kaiser loves to annoy her(he is just in love with her), just one teenager denying their feelings while the other is clearly in love, mentions of her parents - to clarify they are not dead !, mentions of real players from the actual club bayern munchen, i don't know if I can put this in the slow burn section? she hates him but she loves him.

╹notes :: 100 followers special i gave my blood, sweat and tears for this, please spare me. sorry for any grammar mistakes, hope you enjoy! for my one and only, and big thanks to @kooriou 🤍

You hated Michael Kaiser from the first moment he stepped into Bastard München Academy, an instant wave of annoyance washed over you. His arrogance and presence got on your nerves, making it impossible to even look at him. But you had to — that was your job as a future assistant coach for the best team in Germany, and who knows maybe you can snatch your uncle's position as manager.

As the tryouts unfolded, you observed him closely, jotting down notes on his skills and trying to give him some initial stats, which to your dismay were either tier A or S. Despite the irritation, there was no point in lying, he was outstanding and he knew what he was doing - or rather, he knew what he wanted. You saw as he teamed up with the boy who wore the jersey with number 20. They made up a pretty good duo, and with Ness's passes and Kaiser's fast attacks, no one could stop them. 

Perhaps beneath the thorny exterior, Michael Kaiser was the player Bastard München looked for—someone who could elevate them to new heights. As the final whistle blew, you already knew the outcome that they would both be accepted into the team, and you'd have to get used to seeing his face almost every day. You got up and walked over to your uncle as all the recruits were lined up, looking at them, as your eyes landed on the striker with with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a blue rose tattoo on his neck. You stared at him, furrowing your eyebrows and with squinted eyes, a silent expression of displeasure etching across your face.

In that subtle gesture, frustration found a physical form; it was a language spoken without words, a non-verbal protest to whatever disturbance had disrupted your peace — and the one who caused it starred back at you, smirking smugly at you, but he turned back to listen to the coach's speech.

"And with that, we welcome you in Bastard Munchen. We hope you will meet and exceed our expectations, and now I will give the word to my niece Y/N who will also work with all of you youngsters." You were still lost in the staring contest with the boy who paid you no mind, and now everyone looked at you, some were getting scared seeing you so oppressed by something; were they that bad that the coach had to ask his niece about another opinion?

Your uncle cleared his throat, making you come back to the real world, a little taken back from the sudden shift of focus. "Ah, yes, of course." as you stood there with all of your glory and pride like you were the president and everyone waited for your long waited speech "As the future of Bastard Munchen, you will be the ones to continue the legacy set by the club's legendary players. Work hard so you can achieve your goals, as you should always believe in yourself. Make every impossibility a reality." 

Your words echoed through the training grounds, making the boys happy to hear something from a beautiful girl - in one way or another, something had to keep them going. As you finished your speech, you caught his eye again, but this time, there was a glimmer of amusement. Was there anything wrong with the things you said? You tried your best to sound like every coach who talks to their team with all the "work hard and give your best shot" stuff. You hope you won't become like that in the future.

Your uncle nodded approvingly, signaling the end of the meeting. The boys started leaving one by one, but the blue-eyed genius stayed, approaching you with confidence.

”Impressive speech, Little Miss, but actions speak louder than words, don't they?" he remarked with a smirk, leaving you with a mix of irritation. You haven't even known each other for a day and you already want to gouge out his eyes. "Talk about yourself, Mister. Show results, and then talk to me again."

Kaiser chuckled, his smile growing wider as he came closer to you, rising a hand as he delicately slid his fingers under your chin, lifting it ever so slightly, your breath hitched from the sudden move.

"We share some similar goals, I will give you that. Be sure to watch me making the impossible your new reality." he walked away, leaving you standing there like a statue - a blushing statue at that.

You definitely hate him.

WEEK 2 AFTER THE TRYOUTS:

In the following weeks, as training sessions progressed and the team started bonding, you couldn't deny that Michael's skills were exceptional. Despite his arrogant attitude, there was a reason why he wore that smug expression. The team was carried by his influence, and you found yourself unfortunately acknowledging his impact. Kaiser Impact, huh? That’s one way to call it.

He approached you, the smirk replaced by a genuine smile. "Not bad, right? I noticed the way you looked only at me," he said, as you rolled your eyes, trying to maintain your composure as you handed him a water bottle "Don't get too comfortable now. This doesn't mean you're off the hook. There's still a long way to go."

The blonde boy chuckled, seemingly unfazed, taking the bottle from your hand, making your fingers briefly touch as he kept eye contact. "I wouldn't want it any other way, Prinzessin. Now what are my stats? I’m sure they went higher." You shot him a skeptical glance, unimpressed by his playfulness. "Stats? Do you mean your nonexistence score? Like in a video game or something," you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

He laughed at your comment. "Maybe not a game, but God's challenge, and I'm here to be the best of the best and eventually surpass Noel Noa," he replied with a cocky grin.

Rolling your eyes once more, you couldn't deny the feeling you had when talking back at him. "Fine, let's humor your challenge sent from above for a moment. Strength: still lacking, form: needs improvement, and humility: nonexistent," you assessed, ticking off imaginary boxes in the air. "But hey, you did manage to catch my attention for being the most annoying person I have ever met, so I'll give you that."

Kaiser raised his eyebrows, took a sip from the water bottle, and said, "Well, Prinzessin, catching your attention is just another bonus for me." You scoffed, "Smooth talker, aren't you? But like you said actions speak louder than words, so do me a favor and leave me alone, you are not the only one who has to work hard."

His eyes gleamed with a mischievous glint as he took a step closer, narrowing the distance between you. "Oh, I plan on proving myself in more ways than one. Consider this just the beginning." With that, he went back to the others, leaving you to wonder whether he was genuinely committed to improving or just enjoying getting under your skin.

Deciding to continue your work – which for now was to arrange the water and the towels ready for the players – paying no mind to the world around you, until you felt a hand on your shoulder, thinking it was Kaiser again, but it was your uncle - the head coach. His touch was firm yet comforting, a familiar presence amidst the chaos made by the young athletes.

You turned around, a mixture of surprise and relief coloring your expression. Your uncle, Franz Bauer, wore a knowing smile that hinted comfort “How are you doing so far, Y/N? Is something or rather someone bothering you?” He spoke in a low, reassuring tone. You took a moment to collect your thoughts, grateful for your uncle's concern, but you found it strange how he always knows and notices when you have trouble.

"I'm managing, Uncle Franz," you replied, a faint smile on your lips. "Just the usual, dealing with boys my age. Nothing that I can't handle."

His gaze held a depth of understanding, and as he nodded at you. "I appreciate the help. You know, you remind me of my younger self because I too was an errand kid."

He wanted something from you, and you knew it by the way he started to talk about how much you were like him as a child. He always does it. "Just get to the point. Is there anything specific you want me to do?"

Franz laughed slightly ”You do catch up quickly,” his voice dropping to a confidential tone. "I've been observing you, and I can't help but notice the way you look at the team, wanting to comment on the formations, the positions, and the players themselves. I've been thinking about expanding your role in the team, perhaps as an assistant coach."

The proposition caught you off guard, and your eyes widened in surprise. "Assistant coach? Uncle, I appreciate the offer, but I'm not sure I have the experience for that."

He placed a hand on your shoulder again, a reassuring squeeze. "Well, you will be an assistant coach in training. Experience is gained through opportunities, Y/N. I see potential in you, a natural talent." your eyes widen suddenly “So, for the rest of the training session, you will be the boss.”

“But I-” he cut you off by standing behind you and pushing you forward “No objections, or I'll call your parents to pick you up. You don’t want that, right?” having no time to answer, you were next to the other coaching staff as your uncle gave a thumbs up from the benches with water and towels. That old bastard Well, you better be here training some naive and arrogant footballers, than being home studying economics.

Taking a deep breath, you accepted the challenge, even if you didn't want to. As you stepped onto the field, the weight of the whistle in your hand felt foreign, yet empowering. The players eyed you curiously, some exchanging glances, unsure of what to make of this sudden change. Gathering the team you began to give orders. "You will go against the first team and clash with amazing players like Noel Noa, Thomas Muller, Manuel Neuer and Joshua Kimich. But let go of the thoughts about the big bad wolves chasing you - you shall become the chaser." Your uncle watched from the sidelines as if he knew something you didn't. "So for starters, we are changing the formation to 4-2-3-1 as Kaiser will be the top of the attack, Ness you will be the attacking midfielder so you gotta keep an eye on blondie over here, but also beware of your rivals. "

The players exchanged glances again, as Kaiser and Ness shared a look - shocked at your words. Is this even going to work? Is she for real? You took a moment to gauge their reactions before continuing. "Remember, this is a training session, and mistakes are welcomed. Now, destroy them."

As the training progressed, the intensity of the practice match increased, with each player giving their best to impress you. As the team executed the adjusted formation, you observed them. Kaiser made strategic moves upfront, Ness showcased skillful ball control, and the defense held its ground against the opponents.

In a surprising turn of events, the U-20 team began to dominate the match. GOAL, As you blew the final whistle after Kaiser scored the 5th and final goal of the game, ending practice. He looked at you, and again with that smile - full of self-confidence. You wanted to throw the whistle at his stupid-looking face. The sidelines erupted in cheers from the staff as your uncle gave you an approving nod, acknowledging the success of your "coaching debut", approaching you with a proud smile. "See, Y/N? You have it in you. You made them believe in the impossible about beating the old dogs, and they did it."

After the game, the players gathered around for a brief post-match discussion. The atmosphere was a mix of exhaustion and triumph. Kaiser, still riding the high of his decisive goal, approached you with a smirk.

"Well, well, well, Y/N. I never thought I'd see the day when you'd make me the star of the show," he said putting his arm on your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to let his teasing get to you. "This was just a practice match. Let's see if you can replicate this performance in a real game."

He chuckled, "Oh, I plan on it. Just watch, Y/N."

Ness, who had been listening to the conversation, chimed in, "I have to admit, I didn't think this would work, but it did. Maybe you're not as clueless as I thought."

You shot him a glare, "Yeah, thanks Ness." The purple-haired grinned, "No problem. Just keeping you on your toes."

As the midfielder went away, sensing that his partner wanted alone time with you, Kaiser lingered for a moment, a more genuine expression on his face. "You know, Y/N, for a moment there, I almost thought you enjoyed it. Admit it being in charge, making your own choices..."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Kaiser. This was just one game. We'll see how things go in an actual game."

Kaiser looked at you, his grip tightening. "Fair enough. But, if you ever need to test some tactics, you know where to find me~."

You scoffed, removing his hand from your shoulder, "I'm not going to Hell, thank you." he continued to look at you in a way unknown to you, making you feel kinda strange "Well, maybe just a quick visit. You might find it surprisingly pleasant." You rolled your eyes again, but there was something in your chest that you were very unfamiliar with. "I'll consider it, but this doesn't mean I like you or anything."

The boy chuckled, a teasing sound coming from his lips. "Oh, I'm not expecting you to confess your undying love for me just yet, Y/N. But I have to admit, that was flattering." You shot him a skeptical look, feeling a little hot for some unknown reason. Are you getting sick? No, that shouldn’t be it, maybe is the adrenaline, yeah that’s it.

"Is that your idea of a compliment?" He shrugged, noticing how your checks started to turn red "Take it however you want. Just remember, I'm always up for a challenge, especially if it involves the impossible of winning you over, Erdbeere(Strawberry)."

You raised an eyebrow at the unexpected nickname, playing on your face. "Erdbeere? Really?"

Kaiser grinned, undeterred by your reaction. "It suits you. Sweet, but with a bit of a bite. Plus, it's fun to see that tough exterior of yours crack a little."

You sighed, realizing that arguing with him would only fuel his teasing. "Whatever. Just focus on keeping up with the same performance as today"

He winked playfully, "Oh, I'll keep up, Erdbeere. Count on it."

as Kaiser turned to leave, his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary. The teasing smile on his face softened, revealing a hint of something more genuine. "See you tomorrow, Y/N," he said, his tone unexpectedly earnest.

You watched him go, and as the distance between you and him grew, you felt something. It was a feeling you couldn't quite describe, leaving you to question it.

Alone with your thoughts, you couldn't help but replay the conversation and the teasing remarks in your mind. Kaiser's parting words echoed, and the unexpected nickname he made up for you.

"Erdbeere," you whispered to yourself, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, you liked the sound of it - just maybe, you will let it slide this time.

WEEK 4 AFTER THE TRYOUTS:

After the whole fiasco with the practice match and the “Strawberry incident”, as you liked to call it, the work in the facility was getting harder - running left and right to do tasks, printing documents, ordering equipment, dealing with the teasing remarks of this annoyingly tall boy with long gold locks and light blue eyes deep as the ocean you will let him drown. If he was on fire and you had a bottle of water - you'd drink it in front of him. Yet, amid the chaos, Michael Kaiser always managed to appear, like a haunting ghost, ready to jumpscare you in the most unexpected time.

One day, rushing to deliver some documents to the medical unit, he appeared beside you. His smirk was infuriatingly present, and his voice dripped with playful arrogance.

"Running again, Y/N? You should consider joining the team as a midfielder with all that sprinting you're doing." You shot him a warning look "Maybe if you spent less time making comments and more time working, we'd get things done faster."

Kaiser chuckled, unbothered. "Ah, but where's the fun in that? I'm just trying to lighten the mood, you are always so stressed."

"Your idea of 'fun' is questionable." you said, trying to ignore the strange flutter in your stomach that his teasing somehow managed to evoke.

As you reached the department of the medical unit, you thought you finally got rid of him. However, fate had other plans. On your way back, he appeared again, blocking your way. His tall frame casted a shadow over you, and his mischievous smile widened.

"Michael, move." you demanded with the use of his first name, trying to sound stern, but he merely leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

"What's the rush, Y/N? Can't I talk to my amazing assistant coach?" he retorted, his eyes never leaving yours.

Annoyed, you attempted to sidestep him, but he effortlessly mirrored your movements. It became a silent dance, a game of cat and mouse in the narrow corridor. Every step you took, he countered, maintaining his blockade.

"Are you always this stubborn, or is it just for me?" he teased, a playful smile playing on his lips.

"Seriously, Kaiser, this isn't funny," you protested, feeling the irritation building up.

But he remained still, his teasing facade never fading. "Come on, now, Don't lie to yourself, you secretly enjoy our little meetings. The way your eyes light up when you see me says it all."

You scoffed, sticking out your tongue, "In your dreams." Deciding you'd had enough, you abruptly turned on your heel and started walking in the opposite direction. To your dismay, he followed, like a persistent shadow. The facility's corridors echoed with the sound of your hurried footsteps and his leisurely ones behind you until the two of you found yourselves in an empty, dimly lit room.

"Honestly what's your deal? Are you stalking me now? You like stalking girls? That's disgusting." you accused, narrowing your eyes.

He chuckled, leaning his back to the wall once again, while you were in the center of the room. "Stalking is such a harsh word. Let's call it... coincidental alignment of paths."

You groaned, turning to leave. However, in your haste, you tripped over your own feet and stumbled forward. In a split second, Kaiser went off the wall as he reached out his hands attempting to catch you mid-fall. Despite his efforts, fate had its way again, and you both fell, as you landed on top of him. Your arms were at the sides of his head, and your legs wrapped around his torso.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment, your eyes widened in surprise, your face millimeters from his, your lips slightly parting as you felt your whole body burning as your heart raced to the rhythm of an unspoken melody. Seeing his features closer, he was beautiful, and now you are the one drowning in the deep blue ocean that his eyes painted. You didn't know what was going on — you didn't know what emotions you were going through, as Kaiser's arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, an unfamiliar but very welcomed warmth spread over your body.

"I-I didn't mean to—this wasn't what I—"

"I've heard of falling for someone, but this is taking it quite literally," He teased, breaking the silence with his flirting, snapping you out of your trance.

You struggled to maintain your composure as you shuttered, attempting to push yourself off him. "G-get off me," your heart continued its upbeat dance, and you couldn't shake off the vivid image of his blue eyes that seemed to have cast a spell on you. 

"Technically, you are on top of me, Prinzessin" blushing furiously as Kaiser's teasing smirk only fueled your embarrassment, making you wish the ground would swallow you whole. The room felt like it had turned into a sauna, the tension thick enough to be cut off with a knife.

Just as the bickering reached its peak, the door swung open, and Ness, the ever-curious magician, stood in the doorway. His eyes widened at the scene before him, feeling a little confused at the sight.

"Oh sorry, am I interrupting something?" Ness quirked an eyebrow, his gaze shifting between Y/N and Kaiser. The two of you exchanged a quick, panicked glance, unsure of how to respond. "Yes/No!," Kaiser and you blurted out, your faces turning even redder. Kaiser, unfazed by the interruption, grinned, while you desperately tried to stay calm as possible.

Ness raised an eyebrow, a sly smile on his lips. "Really? Because it looks like I walked in on a very romantic moment of your little play. Do I need to put on some slowed music?" He walked into the room, closing the door behind him as he continued to stare at the two of you. "I had no idea I was walking into a romantic drama." You shot a glare at Kaiser, who only winked in response. Trying to divert the attention, you stammered, "N-no, Ness, it's not what you think. We were just..." Your voice trailed off as you struggled to come up with a plausible excuse.

He, on the other hand, couldn't resist. "Well, it depends on your definition of interrupting." Ness chuckled, sensing the tension in the air. "Alright, alright, I'll leave you two to your... whatever this is."  The room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by your attempts to get up from Kaiser. "We were just, uh, having a disagreement," you finally managed to say, avoiding eye contact with both Ness and Kaiser.

Kaiser, ever the charmer, grinned at Ness. "Disagreements can be quite physical, apparently." Ness shook his head, still grinning. "Well, carry on, then. I'll just pretend I didn't see anything." As he left the room, he couldn't resist adding, "But next time, maybe lock the door." As the door closed behind Ness, you let out a breath you didn't realize were holding. Kaiser, however, couldn't help but laugh. "Quite the entrance, huh? Maybe we should argue more often."

Rolling your eyes at Kaiser's comment, you finally managed to free yourself from his grasp as you stood up in the fastest way possible, and he also rose from the ground. "Arguing more often? I think once is more than enough," you retorted, shooting him a disapproving look. Kaiser, still grinning, stretched lazily and got up from the floor. Ness's interruption had shifted the atmosphere in the room, and you couldn't shake off the embarrassment that lingered. "Thanks a lot for that," you muttered, shooting Kaiser another glare.

Seemingly unbothered, he placed a hand on his chest in mock offense. "Me? I didn't do anything. Ness just has unpredictable timing." He winked again, causing you to shake your head in disbelief. "Unpredictable timing, my foot. When will you stop with all of this? I can’t even have one peaceful day without you talking to me and saying all these things that you probably don’t even mean. Does it feel nice to play with someone’s feelings?"

Kaiser's smile faltered for a moment, his lively expression fading away as he saw yours. "Maybe I overdo it sometimes, but that doesn't mean I don't care."

You studied him for a moment, unsure whether to believe his sincerity or dismiss it as another one of his tricks. "Actions speak louder than words, Kaiser. If you genuinely care, maybe try showing it in a way that doesn't involve constant teasing and sarcasm."

The tension between you and him lingered as you both stared into each other's eyes trying to find answers locked in the depth of your souls. Finally, you decided it was time to leave "I'm going to go find Ness and make sure he doesn't go spreading any rumors," you announced, turning to leave the room. As you walked away, your mind was a swirling mess of emotions—something you couldn’t tell. He was still vivid in your thoughts, causing a knot to tighten in your stomach. As you looked behind, he was still there dusting off his clothes.

You furrowed your brows, awaiting the unknown territory of your own feelings. The warmth creeping into your cheeks and the soft tears started to paint over your face like rain. It was an unfamiliar sense, leaving you questioning the source. Was it just fire or something deeper that can get you burned?

1 WEEK LATER:

As the days passed, you found yourself avoiding him, unsure of what to think or feel. Everything was so messed up, that you barely slept or ate - when you were not helping your uncle in the faculty, you were at school, where suddenly your grades dropped, and you made excuses for your teachers and friends that you were busy with work - which is partly not a lie but not the whole truth either. Everyone sensed that something was troubling you, even so, you'd rather not tell a single living soul about it all. You couldn't escape the memories of that day, replaying the moment in your mind like a broken record.

Lost in thought, you didn’t realize that someone was next to you as you continued to pour water into the already full bottle that was overflowing over the sink until the person in question shook you by the shoulders. Without much reaction you turned around, your gaze clearly showing the sadness and lifelessness all over your face, you were tired of thinking about him. Your focus returned, the person in front of you was your uncle who was visibly worried about you. "What's going on, my dear? You know you can share everything with your old man" he said, the pain in his eyes to see his niece so down for the past week “It’s nothing … I am just trying to manage school and work.” Another lie left your lips.

Uncle Franz placed a gentle smile on his face. "I've known you since you were a kid. I can see through that facade. Something's eating you inside, and it's more than just school and work. Talk to me." You sighed, the weight of the past week bearing down on you. "It's just complicated, Uncle. I don't know how to put it into words."

He guided you to sit down at the bench near the sink, "Try me. I might be old, but I've been around the block a few times. I am sure it’s a boy problem. Because your mother was the same when she met your dad.”

How does he know it’s about a boy? Honestly, that was shocking to hear. Does he know about the strange situationship between you and Kaiser? Well, you hope he doesn't. Taking a deep breath, you began, "There's this boy, that I met not long ago, and let's say some things happened, and now I'm stuck in this mess. I can't escape it, and it's tearing me apart."

Your uncle listened intently, his eyes reflecting genuine concern. "Love can be a tricky thing, my dear. But keeping it all bottled up inside won't help. Who is this guy, and what happened?" Is that what they call love? Feeling this way because it's terrible not knowing what you want from yourself—you hesitated to answer, unsure if you want to share the details. "It's just someone, not a big deal."

“It’s Michael, isn’t it?” Your eyes widened upon your uncle’s question, and your eyes started to water, as you tried your best not to cry again. Starting to have a thing for someone is a hell of a ride, so you are going to play dumb "I don't know a person by that name." Not that dumb.

Uncle Franz leaned back. "You can deny it all you want, my dear, but your eyes just told me everything I needed to know." Feeling a mix of embarrassment, you laughed nervously, “I think you should go and get your eyes checked, you are starting to see things.” he looked at you with raised eyebrows, apparently he didn't believe you - no one would in those circumstances.

"Okay, maybe it is Michael. But it's complicated. He's so confusing, and I don't even know what he wants."

Uncle Franz patted your head ruffling your hair, "You don't know because you haven't tried talking to him. You should not be scared; just do what your heart wants.” and maybe he was right, he was always right. You just smiled at him, whipping your tears, letting him know you would try - someday eventually. “But if he hurts you one more time, we will have serious problems.” You laughed nervously, should you be scared or just revealed - guess there's one way to find out.

He stood up from the bench looking at you once more "Now cheer up and come with me, there is something I need to tell everyone on the team” and you also went with him, going into the field where they practiced.

A whistle signaled it was time for a break. Everyone gathered around the benches as you stayed closely behind your uncle, who clapped his hands, turning everyone's attention onto him, except for the boy with the blond hair who was looking at you. He took a good look at you - first at your lips, which were stuck together like a solid line, then your eyes, they shimmered with traces of sadness, yet beneath the surface, something else lingered, revealing your soul. Each glance reflected the emotions within your heart. Have you been crying? Is it because of me? He couldn't shake the feeling that he was probably the reason for your sorrow. As the others chatted, he found himself unable to look away, his attention remained fixed on you, trying to ignore the questions swirling in his mind. 

“Even if it’s a friendly game with Dortmund’s U-20, we should give our best, okay? Make sure to get enough sleep and don’t skip your meals, it’s important to have your body and mind in top shape.” your uncle's voice spoke once more as the rest of the team could be heard agreeing on the upcoming friendly game with the club's biggest rival “And Kaiser you better be excellent, no missing targets, no missing shots, no mistakes. I want you to be focused next week, on the maximum output, got it?” then the coach addressed him specifically, and for the first time, Kaiser was somewhat frightened by his look, which held something very personal against him. “Yes, sir. I will do my best” he replied, masking his uneasiness with confidence. “Good, now the training is over. You can go to your dorms and rest.”

And with that, everyone scattered, leaving just the two of you, feeling his gaze still lingering on. His blue eyes seemed to be looking into your soul, he knew what was wrong with you and that he was the reason behind it all. He wanted to apologize to you, he really did, but something was stopping him and he didn't know what exactly. Come on, say something. Alas nothing came out from his mouth, and you just turned and left without saying a word, even if you wanted to talk to him too — you didn't, leaving him with his feeling of guilt.

A FEW DAYS LATER:

The day for the team to leave for Dortmund came, as there were no problems with the flight, but now you were at the hotel, where a big misunderstanding occurred. Being part of the female staff, you had to share a room with one of them, but the hotel receptionist thought you were part of the boy’s team, being a teenager. While everyone was settled, you stayed in the lobby as your uncle talked with the hotel staff, and Ness and Kaiser stood across from you on the sofa. The two of them were talking, and you were lost in thoughts about whether a room would be found for you. 

Your uncle returned from the reception "The problem is solved," he said as you were more than happy to go to your room and enjoy some alone time, "But you will have a room tomorrow, because some of the guests will be leaving then," and your smile faded away, faster than it appeared.

At that moment, Ness nudged Kaiser's shoulder signaling him to act, "I can share my room with you." the striker offered, the keys hanging from his hand with a slight smile on his face. Your eyes widened when you heard the offer. “Absolutely no-”

"Fine, but no funny business." your uncle cut you off, as you looked at him with the most shocked face, your gaze met Kaiser's who had been staring at you this whole time. They can't be serious, you thought, Uncle Franz can't be serious. You mentally facepalmed yourself, having enough headaches, this was just the icing on the cake.

Of all people of course it was him. What did you do in your past life to end up in such situations? Did you murder someone, poison a royalty, or haven’t paid your debt — well you sure are paying it now. 

You got up and took the keys from his hand, eyeing him suspiciously, as you got your luggage and went to the elevator before telling him not to bother you. Well, that wasn't the conversation Kaiser hoped to have with you, but it's still something. He turned to look at your uncle, now that you were not here. “Coach, are you sure this is going to work?” 

Franz chuckled, patting Kaiser on the shoulder. "Sometimes, putting people in unexpected situations helps them see things differently. Who knows, maybe sharing a room will sort the things between you two."

The boy sighed, unsure about how this would play out, as Ness patted him on the back "I just hope she doesn't make this more difficult than it already is."

“And I hope you won’t do anything more than talking. Like I said earlier, no funny business.” Kaiser just nodded “I promise."

Meanwhile, you were in the elevator, still processing the fact that you had to share a room with Kaiser, good thing you won’t sleep on the same bed. As the elevator arrived at your floor you took a deep breath and walked down the corridor, finding the room that matched the key. Opening the door, you were greeted with a very beautiful interior, a nice view of the lively night in Dortmund and ... one bed. Great, things can’t get any worse, can they? 

Placing your suitcase by the bed, opening it and pulling out your pajamas. You started to undress when you heard the door open, seeing wisps of blonde hair. Panicking you raised your voice to him not to enter the room as you were still in your underwear. God, how many awkward situations are there to overcome.

Kaiser froze at the door, his hand still on the handle, as he realized the awkward situation he had just walked into. "Sorry" he quickly averted his gaze. "I didn't know you were... I'll just wait outside.” He said, closing the tiny gap he left open. 

You put on your pajamas faster than Usain Bolt can run. Once you were ready you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down as you went to open the door to let him enter. It was his room after all, you can't keep him outside even if you wanted to.

As you opened the door, Kaiser stood there, his cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment, so were yours "I'm sorry about that," he apologized again  "I should have knocked, or... I don't know, you should have locked the door. You know, it could have been some stranger.”

Well he was right, you should have locked the door and kept him outside to sleep on the carpet in the hallway. You didn't say anything, you just went and sat on the bed picking up the phone to check the time [22:22] well better make a wish. You ignored him as he sat on the other side of the bed so you were back to back. 

Kaiser cleared his throat, breaking the silence, “I brought you this” he said, handing you a bar of chocolate, still faced with his back. As you took the chocolate you couldn't help but notice the warmth that was forming in your heart, despite the awkwardness. "Thanks," you muttered, feeling a bit guilty for your initial reaction earlier "I'm sorry too," you finally spoke up, turning slightly to face him. "I didn't mean to be rude to you. Well, maybe I did because you deserved it.”

He turned to face you, a small smile on his lips. "It's alright,Y/N”  he said softly, turning around as his eyes met yours. You agreed, offering him a smile too. "So, uh, I'll just go get changed in the bathroom, and then we can go to sleep." You nodded your head again watching as he got up from the bed and made his way to the bathroom. As the door closed behind him, you let out a big sigh, silence enveloping you again. You decided to start making the bed while he was getting changed. Putting the extra pillows between the mattress, marking the ‘territory’ as you lay down and curled up under the covers of your part. 

You heard the door open and then his footsteps approaching, looking up from the barricade he wore a plain white shirt that was more loose, revealing more of his blue rose tattoo, it was a beautiful design you can't lie, and a pair of black shorts. He too looked at the pillowed wall, then at you with raised brows. “If you don't want to share a bed, I can sleep on the couch.” 

“Not that I don't want to, but the couch is too small and neither you nor I can sleep comfortably on it. So that's why I put pillows in the middle, you have your part, and I have mine.” you explained, leaving him a little bit hurt because of this separation, but whatever you are comfortable with, of course. “Well, sure”

He got under his covers, trying to get cozy but the wall next to him was something he wanted to remove. How much longer are you going to hide from him? Did you hate him so much that you didn't want to see him, in the room where you both were? Guess he will talk to you tomorrow.

No, fuck that. He isn't a scaredy cat anymore, he is not the mentally weak person who constantly gave up on things he believed to be impossible. Because the chance to make it up with you is now — it's not tomorrow, it's not the next day, week, month or year. It's now.

He sat up and removed the one pillow that was separating you from seeing your faces. Catching you, closing your eyes, observing your expression how you tried to keep this innocent sleeping face, and how your chest raised with every breath. You were a good assistant and 'architect', but not a good actress.

“Y/N, I know you are not sleeping,” he whispered your name, his voice soft and full of emotion. You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, well he got you no point of pretending now. “Let's discuss everything that has happened so far. We are all alone here, no one to interrupt us.”

You sat up too,leaning back on the wooden frame, hugging your knees beneath the fluffy cover. He reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and warm. He noticed your nervousness, and he reassured you, with a smile "It's okay, You can tell me anything." His voice was soothing, making you calm down. 

You took a deep breath, struggling to form the words you had been holding back for so long. Your heart raced as you finally found the courage to speak, “I... I've been wanting to say... that I... I..." your voice trailed off, the words catching in your throat as you fought against your fear, this was meant to be an easy task, just to talk it out and end of story. But love is no easy task, it's a challenge that you either take and win or leave with the feeling of despair after the loss. You met his gaze, seeing nothing but love reflected back at you. 

“I like you,” you finally confessed “And I didn't know what to do after all the bickering we had, you left me questioning my entire existence. Making me feel all giddy and nervous, making me confused about your own intentions.” you felt a weight lift off your chest, he listened absorbing every word you uttered.

The soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he reached out to cup your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I like you too," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying a weight of sincerity that warmed your heart. "More than you can imagine."

You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth and comfort he offered. "I'm sorry for everything," he murmured, his gaze filled with remorse and affection. "I never meant to hurt you. I didn't know how to approach you properly, and I wanted you to notice me. I wanted you to have eyes only for me and no one else, to think only of me. The only impossible challenge was to make you fall in love with me, but I don’t think I have to worry anymore ."

You shook your head gently, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his, feeling the warmth of his hand. You hesitated when your lips brushed against his own. You froze. What were you doing, kissing Michael Kaiser? You weren’t even sure if all the hatred you used to hold for him was now gone. He breathed in deeply. “Can I?" You took a moment of thought before you nodded, his hands now cupping your cheeks. His hands were so gentle, but the way he kissed you was not so much. It was like he was starving for you, the kiss sloppy, his tongue licking your lips, trying to taste all of you. 

By the time he stopped, you forgot how to breathe, taking in a deep breath, and so did he. Despite how hot and hungry that kiss was—perhaps even able to fulfill a person's hunger for another—he was still starved for more. His lips brushed against yours once more, this time, there was no hesitation on your part. You leaned into the kiss, letting yourself get lost as you felt him smile.

His hands trailed down your arms as they settled on your waist, pulling you closer to him. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped up in each other's embrace. As the kiss deepened, passion flared between you, igniting a fire that burned brighter with each passing moment. His tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth as if trying to memorize the taste of you.

Time seemed not to exist anymore, as all that mattered was the feel of Kaiserl's lips against yours and the way his touch set your skin ablaze with desire. When the kiss finally ended, you were left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to catch your breath. And as you stared into each other's eyes and as they say, eyes are windows to the soul, you knew one thing for sure — he will forever be yours, and you will be forever his.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, making you arise from your deep slumber, slowly opening your eyes, trying to remember where you were. You had a very strange dream where you got to share a room with Kaiser and you two kissed. It was a nice dream indeed but things like this happened only in the romantic movies.

You wanted to go to the bathroom, but something stopped you from standing up. Confusion was encountered because why was there anything stopping you from getting up. As you took in your surroundings, the details of the dream flooded back to you—the shared room, the confession, and most importantly the unexpected kiss. It felt so vivid, so real, that it left you questioning whether was it really a dream. Looking down to see the force that kept you in a place came not from anyone - but from Kaiser himself. Wait a damn minute, Kaiser!?, you thought to yourself panicking in the process.

Reaching out and touching Kaiser's shoulder, half expecting him to vanish like a fragment of your imagination, but be was very much real , as his soft breathing and light snores reassured you that he was peacefully asleep. He turned around, pulling you down again, your back leaning against his chest, as the warmth of his embrace enveloped you like a comforting blanket. It wasn't a dream. You were indeed lying beside Michael Kaiser.

Wait, so the kiss is real? No, it can't be... right? A million questions ran through your head as you felt him rest his head on the crook of your neck. You suddenly went numb, but tried to see his face one more time, and to your suprise he blinked, trying to open his eyes, with a smile so angelic, for a person with such devilish persona.

"Good morning, Meine Liebe" he said, his voice husky and raspy. You couldn't help but blush at they way these words came out from him, "Good morning," you managed to reply, your own voice contracts to his was soft, barely above a whisper.

His arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. "About last night..." he started, trailing off as if searching for the right words.

"Yeah?" you gulped, suddenly feeling scared about what he might say next. "I meant every word ," he confessed, his gaze locking with yours. "And I meant that kiss too." Your heart skipped a beat, realizing that everything didn't happened in dreamland. It was real, just like the feelings between the both of you.

"I... I don't know what to say," you admitted, feeling overwhelmed by his intense but loving gaze. "You don't have to," he assured you, moving the hand that rested behind your head to pinch the check he kissed you not a moment ago. "Just know that we are together from now on.”

As you absorbed his words, a mixture of disbelief and joy washed over you. 

"Together, huh?" you echoed, seeking confirmation in his eyes. Kaiser nodded, his expression serious yet filled with a warmth that melted your worries away. "Yes, together. Me and you, like a couple."

A wide smile broke across your face, and you couldn't contain the happiness within you. "I like the sound of it.” you replied, as he smiled back at you. "Glad to hear that, Erdbeere." As you settled back into the warmth of his embrace, a comfortable silence wrapped around both of you. 

"My uncle will kill you tho." Kaiser chuckled, as he played with your hair. "Don't worry about it, he won't."

Somewhere in the hotel restaurant, Uncle Franz was on the verge of killing the first thing he saw because Kaiser was late for breakfast, and so were you. “I am going to kill that boy.”

1 MONTH LATER:

Kaiser touched the strands of his overgrown and messy hair as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, "I need a change," he said to Ness, who was glad to do anything for his friend.

“Like a new hairstyle?” The magician asked, wondering what was wrong with his long hair. “Yeah, Y/N said that it was getting in the way, when we cuddled. And also tying it up while playing every second bothers me.”

“Well, I am willing to help, we should have scissors in the cupboards. Go sit while I find them.” the striker sat down in the chair in front of the mirror when his friend returned with the scissors.

With tentative snips and Ness transformed Kaiser's lion mane into a stylish cut, an improvised mullet you can say. As the blonde boy was looking at himself in the big bathroom mirror, and Ness admiring his final product a knock was heard from the door. You entered with a plastic bag full of snacks — it was their day off, so you thought you’d spoil them a little but.

Proudly, he turned to you, his girlfriend of one month, to hear your opinion. "Yes, definitely! And why not add something more? How about dying the mullet blue? It will match with your tattoo."

“Sounds nice, but we don't have blue dye right now.” Kaiser said, knowing that he will have to ask Ness to go to the store to buy one, “Don't worry, I do.” 

“Liebe, why do you carry hair dye in your bag?” he asked, surprised by the fact you had the item in your backpack “Well, I thought you would need one, intuition I guess.” No, it wasn't an intuition, he just talked everyday about wanting to dye his hair blue and you decided to carry a blue dye, just in case.

Women's intuition is a scary thing, he will know from now on not to mess up anything, because either way, you'll find out. But that was a worry for another day, now Kaiser was very happy with the end results. And it's the Michael Kaiser you will see from now on. 

7 YEARS LATER:

Inside a very beautiful and cozy home, you tried to catch your energetic daughter, Mikaela, who was bubbling with excitement as the day of her dad’s arrival from the football tournament marked on the calendar finally came. Her giggles filled the air as she darted around the house, her tiny feet pattering against the floor, as you yelled while holding your 9-month-old son Matteo in your arms, who was laughing and clapping his hands at the sight, as you attempted to catch the energetic 4-year-old girl. “Mika, please stop running around, or you will hurt yourself.”

“Mama, I can't hear you!” How can she take so much from him, but not me? Just as you attempt to hold onto her tiny hand, the doorbell chimes. "It's Daddy!" Mikaela rushes to the door tip-toeing to reach the handle of the metal and swings it open, revealing your husband standing there, a wide grin on his face at the sight of his daughter.

Kaiser's heart swells with joy at the sight of his daughter waiting for him at the door. He bends down to scoop her up in his arms, lifting her as she squeals with delight. "Hey there, my little princess!" he exclaims, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

As Mikaela showers him with hugs and kisses, Kaiser spots Matteo nestled in his wife's arms, a smile spreading across the baby's face as he reaches out his chubby arms towards his father. With a chuckle, Kaiser takes Matteo from you, exchanging a loving glance before enveloping you in a warm embrace, holding you close as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

But their tender moment is interrupted by Mikaela's voice piping up, "Daddy, what about me?" she pouts, her arms outstretched towards her father. Kaiser laughs heartily, balancing Matteo in one arm as he bends down to scoop Mikaela up into his arms once more. He showers her with kisses, making her giggle as he sets her down, as she eagerly reaches out for the brightly wrapped present he’s been hiding behind his back, giving you some time to see each other up close, and not from the small telephone screen.

But before Mikaela can even fully enjoy her new toy, Matteo starts wriggling in his arms. "My little boy missed me too, right?" he coos, as the baby starts laughing from happiness, kicking his little feet, "See Y/N, I told you he is a future football star. Look at that kick!"

As Kaiser holds Matteo, you wrap your arms around him again. "Welcome home, my love," you whisper, giving his lips a little peck. Kaiser returns the embrace, holding you close as he breathes in the familiar scent of home. Just when you think the moment couldn’t get any sweeter, Mikaela pipes up, tugging at Kaiser’s sleeve. "Daddy, what about me? I want more kisses too!" she exclaims, puckering her lips in exaggerated anticipation.

Kaiser chuckles warmly, bending down to scoop Mikaela up once again. "Of course, sweetheart," he says, planting a flurry of kisses on her cheeks as she laughs at her father's teasing and you watch with a smile on your face your small loving family, and how you can't ask for more because you have him and you love him more than anything.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Lingerie

Pairing: Wanda X G!p Reader 18+

Summary: Wanda surprises you with a new lace set while you're on a work call.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+, Girl Penis Reader, Girl Penis, Lingerie, Blow jobs, Hand jobs, Desk sex, Multiple Orgasms, Rough Sex, Phone Calls, Creampie, Dirty talk

General Master List

---

“Yeah, so we can do Wednesday afternoon and then Friday morning for meetings?” you tap your pen against the desk in your home office, talking to Natasha, your co-worker, about the large deal you were about to form with the company Shield. The two of you continue to talk, Natasha going over your business plan and presentation with you until you hear a knock at the door.

“Hey Detka,” you hear Wanda say quietly when she realises you're on the phone. You don’t look back at her though, waving your free hand at her before moving the mouse of your computer to quickly make the adjustments Natasha was suggesting on your presentation. You feel her hands glide across your shoulders, massaging the tense muscle gently making you let out a satisfied sigh.

“I’m sorry love but this is still going to take a while,” finally, you swivel in your chair, mouth parting when you see the sigh of your girlfriend. Her lips tug up into a smirk when she sees your eyes scanning over her body, in awe of the new red lace set of lingerie Wanda had bought, deciding to surprise you tonight as you had been working so hard.

“Y/n? Are you still there?” Natasha asks, making you snap back to reality, pants feeling a lot tighter than they did a minute ago.

“Uh yeah,” you stutter back out, “Any chance we could finish talking about this tomorrow?” Wanda bites her lip as she slowly drops to her knees in front of you, her hands sliding up and down your thighs while moving you part your legs for her.

“I have a full day of meetings tomorrow so not really, why?” you're tempted to just hang up your phone call with Natasha when Wanda starts to unfasten your pants, you lifting your hips to let her pull down your pants, cock straining against your boxers making her eyes darken.

“Oh um, Wanda said she needs me for something important,” technically, you're not lying as you reply to Natasha, Wanda moving her fingers to make a quiet gesture to you before cupping you through your pants. Your hand grips the arm of your chair, a groan almost escaping you when she pulls your boxers down and moves her hand up and down the length of you, mouth ghosting your sensitive tip.

“Well, we only really need to discuss the last part of the speech then you’re free, if that’s alright?” Wanda’s lips wrap around your tip, her head then bobbing down until almost your entire cock was down her throat. She pulls back, panting for breath as she licks her lips, a small moan leaving her as she does so, the sound quiet enough that Natasha won’t be able to hear.

“Yes,” you sigh out, your free hand moving to Wanda’s hair, threading your fingers through her locks and tugging her head slightly as she takes you down her throat again. You want to moan her name, the warm and wet feeling of her mouth making you delirious with pleasure but refrain as the phone call still continues.

The phone call lasts for what you think is eternity, Wanda's mouth moving to suck lightly on the tip while her finger runs up and down the length of you teasingly. Her free hand moves to grope her chest that’s covered in red lace, the fabric pushing her chest up making you want to just worship her chest till she’s moaning and whimpering under you.

“Can I come with you to the meeting early?” you ask Natasha, but eyes look down at Wanda, pleading for her to wrap her lips around you once again. The brunette on her knees takes mercy on you, wrapping her lips around you and moving down until she almost reaches the base of your dick. You mute the call momentarily, unable to stop the moan that’s ripped from the back of your throat as you come in her mouth, hips stuttering up as waves of pleasure shoot through you.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Natasha responds, “I think that’s it now, you’re free to go and see Wanda.” You pant as you watch your girlfriend release you from her mouth, swallowing your cum as she stands up straight, moving to straddle your waist.

“Thank you, Nat, see you soon,” you rush out, hanging up immediately and throwing your phone onto your desk, hands going straight to her waist and pulling her closer to you. “Fuck Wanda,” you moan out before crashing your lips to hers, your hands roaming her body, tracing the patterns of the red lace that adorns her perfect figure.

“Did you enjoy that Detka?” she teases, her hands cupping your jaw and tilting your head up to look at her. You simply answer her by claiming her lips passionately, your hands moving to the back of her thighs as you pick her up, placing her on your desk, paper flying off the wood that you currently couldn't care about.

“You’re so beautiful love,” you murmur against her lips, your kisses then trailing down her neck, teeth scraping over the sensitive juncture of her neck to make her whimper lowly.

“Please don’t tease me Detka, I need you now,” she whines out, hands moving to your hair to pull you away from the top of her breasts. “Please fuck me,” you groan into the kiss, sliding her soaked panties to the side and teasing her entrance with your tip. A moan leaves her lips when you finally push into her, letting her adjust to the size of you before pulling back and thrusting back in, your desk shaking at the power of your thrusts.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” your voice dropping an octave as your lips ghost hers, eyes gazing into her lust-filled ones while her hands grip at your shirt before sliding underneath, nails leaving red marks in their tracks across the expanse of your back.

Soon, moans and the sound of skin slapping reverberates around your office, you pounding into her on your desk while your name falls from her lips like a prayer. Her warm and wet cunt has pleasure clouding your mind, your cock hitting her weak spots with every powerful thrust making her scream out in pleasure.

“That’s it Detka, right there,” she sighs out, the feeling of you so deep inside her, mouth littering her neck in open mouthed kisses causing her orgasm to swiftly build. “You feel so good in me,” it’s your turn to moan at her words, twitching inside her as she clenches around you hard. “I’m going to come,” she practically screams, your mouth moving to crash against hers and muffle the noise that leaves her throat, pussy spasming around you as her orgasm rips through her.

You continue to snap your hips into her, a choked moan escaping her when your hand moves to her clit, desperate to make her come again. “Oh god,” she groans, your fingers circling her sensitive clit while your hips are unrelenting on their brutal pace of fucking her. “I-” she cuts herself off with another scream, clenching hard around you as she comes hard on your cock, the feeling of her cum coating your cock throwing you headfirst into your orgasm.

“Wanda,” you moan into her mouth as you empty into her, warm white liquid filling her up as your hips stutter and body tenses above her. Your lips meet messily but passionately as you both ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm, her smiling into the kiss when she sees the blissed-out expression on your face.

“I love the new set by the way,” you murmur after pulling out, wrapping your arms around her as she sits on the edge of your desk.

“I could tell you did Detka,” she teases, you grumbling and moving to bury your neck at the crook of her neck, her hands soothing over the scratch marks on your back. “I love you, Milaya.”

“I love you too.”

[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch12

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4,Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11

Warning: MINORS DNI, sexual thoughts, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff, touch starved

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

"I'd like to first of all, thank everyone for coming to tonight's event. We, at Alchemax, could have never gotten this far without all of your ongoing support."

Miguel was just as charming as he spoke to the crowd before him. You couldn't help but adore him from your corner, silently cheering him on. You could never give a speech like Miguel could. You would freeze up in place.

As Miguel keep speaking, you glanced over at the crowd. Some were staring at you, probably wondering who you were. Lowering your head, you tried to ignore those looks. Miguel had mentioned that people were going to expect Lyla.

They probably thought of you as a stranger.

"Now, we shall start with some awards. (Y/N), if you would?" Miguel motioned towards you.

Unable to hide your creeping blush, you stumbled towards him. How embarrassing. Miguel just smiled as you handed him the tablet, his hand resting on your lower back.

How could Miguel act so normal? As if he didn't just make a complete moaning mess of you a few minutes ago?

As if he didn't just tell you that he was going to fuck you senseless right after this event? Just the thought of Miguel pinning you against the bed, thrusting his dick into you started to get you wet again. Oh how his fingers felt as they stirred you up inside.

"Mhm,"

The sound of clapping snapped you back to reality, causing your face to burn up. Now was NOT the time to be thinking about such dirty, yet delicious, thoughts. This was a professional setting and you needed to behave!

Miguel was starting to give out awards to some of his associates. Taking the awards from Miguel, you smiled as you held them while the named associates came on the stage to shake hands with Miguel. Your palms were getting sweaty.

How could you act normal after what happened? Standing next to this God of a man, whom had such a strong desire for you.

"And the next award-"

Handing the first award, you gulped as the person stared at you. Playing with your fingers, you started to feel the pressure again as you took the next award.

Trying to distract yourself, you looked back into the crowd. As you did, you noticed the woman from earlier in the bathroom. She was making direct eye contact with you. Actually, it almost felt like she was glaring at you.

"(Y/N)?" Miguel whispered towards you.

"S-Sorry!" You stuttered as you handed out the next award.

This was embarrassing.

"Seems like my lovely assistant is getting bored, haha. I must do better, but we can all agree she is more subtle than our dear Lyla." Miguel chuckled.

The crowd laughed as Miguel smiled towards you. He was trying to make this as comfortable as possible. You owed him for sure.

---------

Miguel had you pressed against the wall as he ravished your mouth. His hands holding your ass up as he grinded against you. After his speech, Miguel spent no time wanting another taste of you. It made your heart flutter and your cunt wet.

"(Y/N), you make me crazy. What were you thinking about up there?" Miguel asked as he kissed your neck.

"Y-You know what," You stuttered, gasping softly as you held onto his shoulders, "M-Miguel...w-we shouldn't-"

"I know. I just need this," He groaned lowly before setting you down, "I'll behave. I'll enjoy my feast after this."

You shuddered at the thought before following Miguel out of the room. Once you did, the two of you were met with that woman from earlier.

"Tch," Miguel's face turned sour.

"Miguel! What a wonderful speech!" Dana smiled, "So many people couldn't help but congratulate us. Now, I don't believe we have properly introduced each other. I'm-"

"Dana. Leave." Miguel spat as he stood in front of you, "You don't need to keep this petty shit up."

"Ha, Miggy, you're cruel side is showing. You know that I don't mind, but the little mouse behind you might not."

"Miguel?" You whispered, confused.

"(Y/N), was it? Hello, I'm Dana, Miguel's fiance-"

"Ex" Miguel spat.

"Just a hiccup in our relationship."

"There is no relationship." Miguel hissed and grabbed your hand, "If you know what's best, Dana, you would leave."

You felt the air grow tense between the two. This was the first time you have ever seen Miguel so angry, so scary. He grabbed your hand as gently as before and dragged you away.

Dana's smile felt cruel as she glared towards you. Following Miguel out of the hallway, you went to reach for him. Miguel flinched at first before sighing heavily. His hand went to stroke your cheek, his smile looking pained,

"Sorry, mi amor (my love). That woman just...brings out an ugly side of me." Miguel sighed heavily, "Would you like me to take you home?"

"But don't you still have more-"

"Don't worry about my work. I want to make sure that you're okay."

Your heart started to flutter again. Grabbing Miguel's hand, you couldn't help but smile.

"Thank you, Miguel. Um...If it...really is okay, I'd like to go home."

"Of course,"

Miguel kissed your hand before taking you by the waist. He held you close as he brought you outside. Even with all that anger, he was still such a gentlemen.

Although, judging by his attitude, Miguel might not be in the mood to continue where the two of you left off. That, and you were a little concerned about this 'Dana' woman. She was his Miguel's ex-fiance, so what happened?

Why did Miguel let go of such a beautiful woman?

And if something where to happen between the two of you, would he be as cruel? Just the thought hurt your heart.

"(Y/N), I can see you getting tense," Miguel whispered as he opened the car door for you, "Please, don't fret too much about Dana. I will tell you about her...when I'm ready," Miguel said with a soft sigh.

"Okay,"

"Just know, that she is a vile woman." Miguel shut the door, pulling you onto his lap, "Don't let her put things in your head. I don't want her tainting you."

"Hehe," You chuckled softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, "I trust you."

"What did I do to deserve you?"

Miguel pecked your lips, his hands roaming your waist.

His touch easing your worries.

His warmth comforting you.

"Miguel..." You whispered as his kisses grew more intense, "Want to stay over?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

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

Next Chapter

Going on a small Birthday Hiatus!! See you all beginning of September!!!

@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla @byjessicalotufo @pigeonmama @k3ythesapphic @acesangels @stealingyourturts @angel-xx-1 @amberbalcom14 @ofmenanduhhhwellmen @oscarissac2099 @keepghostly @zeyzeys-stuff @k3ythesapphic @nightingale1011 @uncle-eggy @safixiovi @flaps200 @dahehow @weirdothatwritess @gerblinradio @electronicchaoschaos @mafiaanomaly @keyisloved @unwrittenletter @reader4life @leenasgirl200 @oscarissac2099 @mari0-o @cinnamoro1l @leryg0 @hizzielover @resident-clown @girl-of-multi-fandoms @sana-408-blog

[ellecdc]

Her darling

I was wondering if I could request Sirius black with a short gf? Something cute and fluffy or generally anything you like to go with because your writing is just immaculate.

(I’m not even sure if 5’3 is counted as short but I’ve always been the shortest among my friends so yeah)

Love you and your wonderful blog 🩵🩵

Hahaha I’m 5’3 too - stopped growing first out of all my friends so that was devastating lol. Thanks for your request babes!! 🫶

Sirius Black x short fem!reader

CW: teasing about height, fluff

Sirius was beginning to regret agreeing with James, Remus, Peter, and Lily to go to the muggle amusement park. Sirius was already one of the shortest amongst his friends, save Pete and Lily who both clocked in at 5’8, meaning most of his day was spent trying to climb onto Remus’ back in order to spot you in the crowd.

“For the love of Merlin, Sirius, I am not that short.” You seethed as you snagged Sirius’ arm, pulling him down (rather roughly) from Remus’ hips.

You could tell Remus didn’t particularly appreciate Sirius using him as a human stepladder, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the teasing opportunity it lent to the group.

“Poor darling,” Lily murmured in faux sympathy, “we’re going to have to find you one of those child leashes that parents attach to their child’s wrists.”

“Sod off, the lot of you.” You groaned and crossed your arms petulantly over your chest.

“Uh oh, almost nap time?” James commented, which earned him a kick in the shin. “Ouch! Okay, okay. Merlin.” He muttered as he moved well out of your kicking range.

“Sorry dollface,” Sirius sung to you, not sounding sorry at all. “I just worry; don’t want to lose you in the crowd.”

You moaned again but didn’t bother gracing him with a response.

You’d been waiting in the summer heat for the newest rollercoaster that was all the rage of this little town when you were nearly at the front of the line.

“Okay, quick. Y/N, stand here – we need to make sure you’re tall enough.” Peter called. And now you were mad – even Peter was taking a go at you!

“Are you- I will not!” You sputtered.

“Ma’am, please step forward.” The bored teenage attendant said, causing everyone in line to turn and look at you.

You burned with shame and more than a little bit of rage as you stepped forward obediently, standing beside the cardboard height measurement tool in the shape of cartoon giraffe which had a speech bubble above him reading “riders must be this tall to ride!”

Sure enough, you were indeed tall enough to ride, and were told to return to your spot in line with the same bored tone as you were beckoned forth in.

You moved back to the group; Remus, Peter, and Lily all looking as if they were about to suffocate under the effort to restrain their laughter, Sirius and James having no such qualms were laughing boisterously.

You spent the rest of the time in line with your arms crossed, pointedly ignoring any of your friends attempts to converse with you.

“Oh my love.” Sirius cooed and stepped up behind you, hooking his head over your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your middle, using his hands to try and pry your own arms from your body. “I’m sorry, dolly. I didn’t think the attendant would join in.”

“You’re an arse.” You muttered back.

“I’m your arse.”

“That’s not a romantic thing to say.”

“What would be a romantic thing to say?”

“That you love me.” You admitted shyly; glad that he couldn’t necessarily see the state of your cheeks, though he could likely feel the heat emanating from them from his place on your shoulder anyways.

Sirius cooed again and turned you in his grasp, peppering kisses all over your face. “I thought that was a given?”

You moaned petulantly again. “No. You’ve been so mean to me.”

“I’m sorry, lovie.” He cooed, sounding slightly more sorry than he had before. “If I was nice to you, that would mean I didn’t love you. That’s why I never make fun of Remus.”

“Oi!”

“I love you.” He proclaimed, ignoring Remus’ outcry. He leaned in closer, whispering so only you could hear it. “I’ll even beat up the attendant for embarrassing you – how about that?”

You considered his offer, eyeing up the bored worker ushering riders through the gates.

“Probably best you don’t – looks like a student’s summer job. You could end up in muggle jail for assaulting a minor.”

Sirius hummed in acknowledgement, lips attached to your forehead. “Worth it to avenge my little lovie.”

“Out of all of us, do you really love me the least?” Remus commented, interrupting your conversation.

“Of course not, Moons. I obviously tease Evans the least.”

“Hey!”

[trendywaifus]

thinking about calling wife! zhu yuan (im normal about her) during a meeting and she accidentally puts you on speaker. cw: none. gn!reader

“ i can’t stress this enough, in order for this plan to work, we have to—“

“ for you. “

zhu yuan almost immediately stops her speech when qingyi hands her her ringing phone. she blinks, taking the phone from her hand. zhu yuan mutters a small excuse me and walks out of the meeting. she glance at the caller id and fights back a dopey smile threatening to plaster on her face. she clears her throat and accepts the call, unknowingly pressing the speaker button as she brings the phone to her ear.

the police woman leans against the glass window. “ hello (name), is there something the matter? i’m in a meeting right now. “ despite her professional tone, there’s still a warm softness etched to it.

“ HEY PUMPKIN, I WAS JUST WONDERING IF YOU CAN STOP AT THE STORE AFTER YOU— “

“ w-wait, y-you’re on speaker! let me fix it! “ zhu yuan stammers sheepishly, heat racing up her neck. she clumsily pulls the phone away from her ear and fumbles around to turn the speaker off before she causes a huge distraction. zhu yuan was sure she did anyways because everything was silent before she accepted the call—your booming voice had literally bounced off the walls of the unit. her face was as red as an apple once she lifts the phone back up to her reddened ear.

“ wh-what were you saying again? “

“ . .well, i was going ask if you can go to the store and pick up some ingredients for the chicken curry i’m going to make tonight. um, i didn’t know you were on speaker sweetheart, sorry. “

“ n-no, it’s okay. i. it was my mistake. y-yes, i’ll go, don’t worry. “ zhu yuan mutters, she taps her right foot in a meek manner.

“ alright, have a good day at work. be safe, i love you, wifey. “

her heart skips a beat at the affectionate tone of your voice.

“ i-i love you too, (name). “

the call ends and her shoulders droop as she sighs heavily. zhu yuan walks back inside, head uncharacteristically hanging low in embarrassment at the sound of her colleagues whispers and snorting.

[dreamingonclds]

My Girl | Hozier

Summary: Andrew ruins the surprise date that y/n had planned for him.

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Word Count: 2055

Warning(s): Very slight sexual activity, angst if you squint, fluff

Note: I did not edit this so, sorry if the grammar or writing is off. Also, this is my very first one shot. It ended in a different way than I expected and I don't know how to feel about it anymore. Enjoy!

As it was your last day with Andrew before leaving to go back home. You decided to surprise him with a romantic dinner once he got back from the studio. You slaved away all day in the kitchen making his favorite foods. As a testament of gratitude for everything he’s done for you this past month, spent with him in Wicklow. You decorated the dinner table and area all cute, with fairy lights, artificial vines, and scattered petals. You even put on a dress, his favorite, on you, and the lipstick he said made you look like you were touched by Aphrodite.

The time came when he was supposed to arrive and he didn’t. You didn’t want to even consider the possibility of ruining the surprise. So you didn’t call him right away, concluding that he was probably running a bit late like he sometimes does. A couple more hours went by and now the concern in your belly was getting hard to ignore. It was almost 12 am, he said he would be home by 8 pm. So you decided to shoot him a quick text.

Hey baby, everything okay?

He calls you back almost immediately.

“Hey darling, I’m sorry I got carried away and forgot to call you earlier. Me and the team decided to just order some food and eat here. I’ll be home in a bit, do you want me to pick you something up to take back?” He says rushing to get the words out, you hear the shuffling of feet getting away from the sound of banter and laughs.

You smile sadly at his sincerity.

“It’s okay, I get it. But umm…,” You interrupt your own speech as you look towards the beautifully set table and food you kept in the oven to keep warm. “I’m okay, I made dinner earlier, thanks for offering anyway. But you enjoy your dinner!” you continue.

“I am, you enjoy your dinner too-”

“I’ll try. Be safe, yeah?” You quickly respond cutting him off.

“Are you-”

You cut him off again, starting to feel a lump develop in your throat, and that shameful tickle in your chest.

“Hey I gotta go Andrew, don’t want the food to get cold.” you say and hang up before he can say anything else.

Your flight out of Ireland was at 6 am. You weren’t even packed, thinking that after dinner, Andrew could help you, because you knew he’d do most of it for you; as he did with other things. But also because you wanted to spend as much time with him before you left. But with your time of departure nearing, you decided to get a move on it.

By the time Andrew got home it was nearing 3 am. And you were nearly done packing, because you had stayed with him for a little over a month, your things were scattered throughout his house so it took a while. In the midst of you focused, trying to remember everything you had brought, you didn’t hear the front door open.

Andrew walks in quietly, believing that he would find you asleep. He quickly notices a light shining from inside the oven, he hurries over and opens it, thinking you accidentally left it on. But his eyebrows scrunch together when he sees it’s only the light on and his favorite meal in there, untouched.

He stands up straight from his crouching position and walks out to the dining area. He quickly notices the dining table, set with empty plates, wine glasses and the vase with flowers you guys picked together. The almost completely melted taper candles were an indication that you had been waiting for him for a while. 

Once the realization hits him, he mutters a single word.

“Fuck.” he brings his hand to his face, rubbing it over. He turns himself and begins to walk towards the bedroom. But, his guilty conscience makes him look back to the table. His imagination quickly fills of you, wondering just what you must have been feeling. He thinks to blow out the candles but turns his back to them, they’re on their last breath anyway; he thinks.

He carefully opens the bedroom door, still believing you are asleep. But he pauses when he sees you standing there, lost in thought. But beautiful, all dolled up in his favorite dress of yours.

Your eyes shoot to the opening door, and the first thing you notice is his sorry face. Before you can mutter a word, a letter even. He rushes over to you

“Darling, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I didn’t know. One of the guys mentioned getting pizza and everybody was on board with it so I agreed and,” he rambles on, both his hands rubbing your arms.

“Why are you leaving me…over that darling, it’s not worth it. I know I fucked up, I know that, I know. But I can fix it, I promise you I will fix it. It was so stupid of me, but it won’t ever happen again.” he continues, one of his hands had made its way to your face, gently cupping your jaw and caressing your cheek.

And then it hits you, he walked in and saw you packing. He must think that you are actually leaving him, he must’ve forgotten your flight back.

Before he can continue, you ease his worry.

“Baby, I’m not breaking up with you. I’m okay, I promise” you say as you look up to him and look into his eyes,you take his torso in your arms and rub him soothingly. His eyebrows furrow together, he’s still confused, he really doesn’t remember.

You take his hand and lead him over to the empty side of the bed free of your luggage. You push his chest lightly, encouraging him to sit down. And he does, pulling you down to sit in his lap. 

“Then…what are you doing?” He asks, one hand sitting on your bum and the other toying with the fabric of your dress.

“I’m leaving, remember, back home.” You say, one arm around his shoulders playing with the loose strands of hair coming out of his bun. 

“Ohh” he lets out a sigh and puts his head into your neck, peppering your collarbone with kisses, mumbling sorrys in between each of them.

“Baby. Baby. Baby” he says, each one spaced out.

“I am so sorry. That I truly forgot about. I am so so sorry. I can’t believe I just let that pass my mind. Oh my god what is wrong with me.” he rambles guiltily.

You remove your hands from his hair and try to coax them into his face, softly lifting him out of the crook of your neck. You give him a gentle smile and give him a soft kiss.

“It’s okay.” you say genuinely, nodding your head.

“No it’s not.” he responds matter of factly.

“You forgot baby, it happens-” you try to reassure him but he cuts you off with a kiss.

“Be honest love, how’d it make you feel?” he asks, lips brushing against yours. Your head naturally hangs down, the feeling of humiliation overtaking you once again. But the feeling of his large hand rubbing over your thigh offers comfort for you to tell him the truth, but not enough.

“Ugh” you groan in embarrassment, quickly hugging him so as to not meet his gaze, your cheeks warming with the feeling.

“Oh darling.” he returns the act and rubs your exposed back. “How do I make it up to you baby?” he asks you, and you can tell he means it.

“It’s okay, I mean it.” you state, pulling away and meeting his eyes. He gives you an understanding smile, and brings his hand to your face. Moving your hair from your face and lightly touching your lips, you give his thumb a soft peck.

“You are too good for me.” he admits. You don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything. You shake your head in disagreement and give his jaw a peck. Your phone buzzes from the bed and he turns and reaches for it, handing it to you. 

“Shit.” you say, getting up and off of him, realizing the time.

“Babe, we have to hurry!” you hurry back to your luggage.

“We have to leave soon or I'll miss my flight.” you throw the last few things in your suitcase.

“Oh yeah” he says, coming over to you. “Let me do that.” he tells you when he sees you trying to close it.

“I’m gonna go get my clothes.” you say and run out to the laundry room, picking up the outfit you planned to wear for your long flight. Walking back into the bedroom, you see Andrew moving your luggage to the floor. You reach to try and unhook the back of your dress when he comes up and hugs you from behind. He then turns you to face him and shamelessly checks you out, his eyes fixed on your cleavage before he speaks.

“ I love this dress.” he says meeting your eyes.

“I know, I can tell.” you giggle.

He leans down, bringing his lips to yours, you tiptoe, trying to make up for the height difference. A passionate makeout ensues, his hands give your bum gentle squeezes. His mouth finds your neck and you release soft moans, almost giving in as he backs you into the bed.

“As much as I would like to babe, I can’t. I have to leave, like now or I’ll miss my flight.” you say breathlessly, your body almost betraying you as his lips make their way from your jaw to your chest. Your hands go to his hair instinctively as he continues to go lower and lower.

“Babe, seriously, we don’t have time” trying to catch your breath, you sit up, forcing him up as well. He gives you a cheeky smile, offering his hand to help you to your feet.

“It’s like you’re trying to keep me from leaving.” you run your hands through your hair in an effort to put yourself together.

“That's exactly what i'm trying to do” he stands with his hands on his hips, just endearingly looking at you, taking you in. You look up to him, and a laugh leaves your mouth when you see your lipstick transferred to his face.

“This would be so much worse if it wasn’t for your beard” you say in between small laughs, circling your mouth, in reference to his. He turns his head towards the mirror and laughs when he catches sight of the damage.

“Yours isn’t any better.” he turns back to you and wipes the tip of your nose that somehow managed to catch the rosy tint. You return the favor, wiping his lips with the best of your ability. Then you rest your hand on his cheek, he turns his head towards it and gives your palm a kiss. You give him a pouty smile, and your chest aches, realizing just how much you don’t want to leave him.

“My girl.” he says, mouth still in your hand. He holds your wrist there for a few more seconds before he gives it one last kiss and gently lets go.

“You’re making this really hard.” you admit. You turn your back to him and step away, not being able to look at him any longer. Your hands go back to small hooks of your dress, when you hear a sigh from behind you.

“At least let me take the dress off of you, one way or another.” he offers, referring to your prior denial of both your unholy desires. You chuckle and let him help, shivering whenever his fingertips meet your skin.

With no time left to spare due to the hour drive to the airport, you slipped on your comfy clothes and grabbed your belongings. The drive there was full of avoidance from the both of you, not wanting to talk about being away from each other. So instead, the conversation was full of the best memories you had in the emerald isle. And once you arrived at the airport, you sat in the car for as long as you could, not wanting a single second to go to waste where you couldn’t be together.

[starcrossedslytherin]

Love Letters

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

WC: 1K

A/N: I don’t know how popular the Hogwarts legacy fandom is as of now because I’ve not been on tumblr, but I found this fic in my drafts(along with quite a few wips) and realized I never posted it so I thought I would feed the Sallow girlies a quick snack today.

Summary: Sebastian wants to write you a love letter to tell you about his feelings but it’s not going the way he hoped, even with Ominis’ help.

---

Ominis knows he shouldn’t be as amused as he is right now, but he can’t help it. It’s not often he gets to experience Sebastian embarrass himself so willingly.

Try as he does to suppress his chuckle, it slips out and Sebastian sighs, letting the several half written love notes spill onto the table in front of him.

“It’s not funny.” Sebastian practically pouts, glad his friend can’t see the expression on his face.

“I disagree.” Ominis taunts him with a grin, leaning back in his seat.

“I’ve been trying to write Y/N a note all afternoon! I just don’t understand why they sound so…”

“Awful?” Ominis jumps in. “Horrendous? Painfully cliche?”

“Oi, shut it.” Sebastian mutters, gently nudging Ominis’ foot under the table. He very much regrets asking his best friend for help now he knows how embarrassed he’d be.

He sighs before picking up all his papers, trying to find the best parts of them all. “Why don’t you read them again? Out loud, so I can hear.” Sebastian doesn’t see why Ominis asks him to do so, but he reads through the notes, pulling faces every time he gets to a rather cheesy part of the note.

When he finishes, he looks to Ominis, hoping he can give him any sort of feedback to fix this mess.

Ominis stays quiet for a moment, thinking Merlin only knows what until he says, “You make me wish I was deaf as well.”

Sebastian’s hands slap against the table as he gives up, annoyed with his inability to string together simple words to tell you how he feels and annoyed with Ominis’ lack of help. “Forget this.” Sebastian grumbles, crumpling up as many of the letters as he can.

Ominis sighs and puts his hand across the table, covering some of the papers and getting Sebastian to stop. “Just talk to her. Tell her how you feel.”

Sebastian pulls a face at the recommendation. “Tell her how I feel?” He repeats, starting to pace in his spot. “You mean, just walk up to her and tell her how beautiful I think she is? Or how any time she smiles at me, you, Anne or anything really, I can’t help but stare? How she is most likely the smartest and kindest person I have ever met? How anytime she’s in the room, I am most certain my heart will beat out of my chest with how fast she makes it? How each time I see her leave the castle on her little adventures, I fight myself on whether to go with because I need to know that she makes it back safe to me? To us? You think I should just walk right up to Y/N and tell I am absolutely in love with her?”

There was silence between the two boys after Sebastian’s speech and the brunette boy, exhausted mentally, falls in his seat in a slump. Ominis just sat there, gripping his wand tight in his hand as his lips gently pull up to the left. “Well,” he whispers, getting Sebastian’s attention, who frowns upon seeing his smirk, “I don’t think you have to worry about it anymore.”

Sebastian’s brows furrow and he was about to ask Ominis what he meant before the sound of a book clattering to the ground behind him has him whipping his hand around and he opens his eyes wide. There you were, frozen in your place as you struggle to keep more books from falling off the shelves.

“Sorry.” You mumble, trying to determine if you really were hearing what you think you were hearing. “And uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to- I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.

Sebastian nods at your reassurance. “How much did you hear?”

You wave your hand in the air. “Oh, well just, uh, just… everything.”

Well, that’s not what he wanted.

He turned to glare at Ominis, but the boy slipped out when you and Sebastian were focused on each other.

You glance down at the paper strewn across the table, ready to dismiss them before seeing your name on one of them. “What is that?”

Sebastian sighs, debating whether he could really show you his mess of notes. He nods, letting you fall into the seat next to him as you pick through the papers. You barely got through the first sentence of the very first letter before your eyes shoot to Sebastian’s.

“You.. you wrote me letters?” There was a deep blush on his face and he’d gone silent, but he nods. You stare at him, feeling your own cheeks heat up quite a bit before you turn back and read, picking a few sentences of each discarded letter. Your favorite ones were the ones Sebastian had scratched over with his quill, obviously being embarrassed of having written them, but you enjoyed them.

From the first moment we met, I knew there was something extraordinary about you.

I know what love is because I know you.

My darling, you are my rock, my confident, my ally, my friend, and so much more.

“Bash…” you mumble, blinking repeatedly to keep your tears from spilling out.

“I couldn’t find the right words.” He whispers, picking up a few of the letters and holding them. “I had Ominis try to help me, but I don’t think he was particularly helpful.” You chuckle, imagining Ominis trying to help Sebastian.

Your laugh fades out as you put your hands on top of Sebastian’s and your eyes meet. Your stomach flutters with nerves and adoration. “I think you know the right words.”

Sebastian smiles at you, the corners of his mouth tugging up just enough that his eyes crinkle and he nods. “Y/N,” he begins, looking to his letters for strength but he knows he doesn’t need it. “Y/N, I love you. I’m in love with you. I want to be with you and I want to go on adventures with you and I want to smile with you and I want, I just want you.” His hand cups your cheek, bringing you closer to him as your eyes flutter close and he whispers, one last time before your lips meet, “I love you.”

•

[your-averagewriter]

"Breathing's harder when a pretty girl's touching your chest."

Summary: When the Sully family come to seek refuge, (y/n) is tasked with teaching the children the essentials and becomes particularly close with Neteyam. She wants to help him with his breathing techniques because he's been struggling but seemingly her being close to him is quite distracting... who would've thought?

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: making out, swearing, creatures

-

I slide off of my ilu and dive into the water, but not before seeing the crowds on the beach. Standing up on the sand I flip some of my hair back into place before walking over. I watch what’s happening and then I see my brothers teasing the newcomers so I walk over. Swatting away Rotxo’s hand from one of their tails I tell him off.

“Stop,” I say, then look up to the older one (whose tail Rotxo was messing with) who’s already looking at me with a smile. I smile back at him.

I was going to start talking to him but then my father arrived with a theatrical entrance. He does this whole speech and the leader of the six outsiders who I now know is called Jake Sully and was the leader of his clan begs to be able to stay. It’s difficult to watch as it’s clear that he only wants to protect his family but mother disagrees with them staying. The verdict eventually ends with them being able to stay.

“Our son, Aonung, and our daughter, (y/n), will show your children what to do.” Father declares and I can’t help but smile at the prospect of new friends and people to teach.

Aonung protests but he is overruled. They stand them staring at each other but I interrupt them.

“Come, I’ll show you all around our village,” I say with a smile leading them first to get some supplies then I lead them to their pod.

“This is where you will stay, I hope it’s okay,” I say and Jake reassures me that it’s fine,

“You’ve done a lot for us, this place is more than good enough.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you guys to settle in now and I’ll come to find you tomorrow with Aonung and we’ll get to work,” I say with a smile and wave before leaving. A small wave of ‘thank you’s is heard before I make my way to my pod.

The next day I wake up and head straight to their pod. Collecting the siblings, I leap off of the side of the pods, urging them to follow after me. The adults head to meet with my father.

The first to jump after me is the older brother, then the younger brother, the younger sister and then the older sister. I’m suddenly realising that I don’t know any of their names. I watch and smile at their face, awe-struck at the beautiful creatures and plants. They don’t seem to be able to swim long though so they have to swim up to the surface. I look at them confused before signing for them to swim with me and my brothers but they keep having to go up for air.

My brothers make fun of them but I dismiss them before checking they’re alright.

“Are you guys okay?” I ask looking at their gasping faces.

“You’re too fast! Wait for us!” The younger one says.

“What’s your name?” I ask softly.

“Tuk.” she answers.

“Well, Tuk, give me your hand,” I say but she’s a little apprehensive. “Come on, I don’t bite,” I say coaxing a giggle out of her. She passes me her hand and I look to the others before starting again. “Everyone okay to go again?” I ask and dive in again seeing their nodding faces. A little later on we resurface again.

“Wait where’s your sister?” Aonung them and I look around not seeing her.

We don’t find her so head back to the shallows. Aonung takes the lead in explaining the ilus and what to do.

“Okay,” I start then realise I don’t actually know his name. “Sorry, I haven’t asked your names,” I say looking down, embarrassed. 

“I’m Neteyam, that’s Lo'ak.” He says pointing to his brother. “Kiri.” He points to her. “And Tuk. But you know her name.” I repeat the names enjoying how Neteyam’s name sounds in my mouth.

“I’m (y/n).” He chuckles.

“I know.”

“Oh yeah,” I say tucking the hair behind my ear.

“Stop looking at each other all googly-eyed.” Aonung walks by and I stutter a bit both continuing the lesson slightly embarrassed.

“So, umm, oh yeah, okay. You’ve got to make the bond.” He moves his queue close to the ilus. “Gently,” I emphasise putting my hand on top of his to slow it down. 

He makes the bond but rides the ilu unsuccessfully but gets it the second time.

“Well done,” I say clapping excitedly as he rides the ilu back to me.

“Thanks,” He says shooting me a charming smile. 

Once everyone’s gotten the hang of riding the ilus we go riding and accidentally meet up with Kiri. We ride the ilus for a while so that everyone has time to practice and once we’re done we head back to the beach to try some breathing techniques to improve their breathing.

“Breathe in. And out.” I lead the exercise and I’m sat next to Neteyam. I can hear that he’s not doing the exercise right so I place my hand on his chest and lower stomach. “Breathe from down here,” I say feeling his breathing and heartbeat. I coach him on how to do the breathing properly but for some reason, his heartbeat increases rather than decrease. “Your heartbeat has increased. Try to calm down.” I say unaware of my brother chuckling in the background.

“Right, okay.” He says, presumably trying to calm down but I only notice his heartbeat increase so I suggest we try again later on.

“Okay, why don’t you guys go back to your pods and get a good night’s sleep then we can continue tomorrow,” I say.

The next few days we keep practising the breathing techniques and mastering riding the ilus, they all got on well except for Neteyam who just couldn’t get the breathing. I gave him a few more days to master it along with the others we’d already practised it for but he just couldn’t understand it. 

In these couple of weeks, we’d become friends, quite good friends very quickly so it wasn’t abnormal for us to hang out. Usually, I’d dismiss the siblings and everyone would do their own thing however most of the time we’d hang out. It was this time again, I dismissed his siblings and mine before dragging him to a more secluded part of the beach.

“Where are we going?” He asks as my grip on his arm slides down to hold onto his hand as I pull him with me.

“You’ll see.” I turn back and smile at him before continuing to take him with me. I hop onto a rock and pull him with me, and we both sit down.

“What are we doing here?” He asks slightly confused but charmed.

“Well, I want to help you with your breathing, so you can swim with us.” 

“I’m not that bad.”  He says, smugly.

“Okay, go on then,” I say, knowing that he can’t do it. He closes his eyes and starts trying to slow his breathing. I place my hand on his lower stomach feeling his breathing again and rest my head on his chest listening to his heartbeat.

His heartbeat accelerates and his breathing doesn’t get any slower like usual.

“See?” I say, it was an ‘I told you so’ moment but I didn’t want to rub it in. “Come on, Tuk can do it even Lo’ak!” I say.

“I can’t do it because you’re so close to me!” He says, snapping. “Touching my chest and stomach, I can’t focus.”

“Sorry,” I say quietly, shrinking back into myself. “I’ll just…I’ll go so you can practice without me distracting you,” I say sincerely, standing up.

“No! That’s not what I meant.” He says sighing then standing up quickly, walking after me. “I just, you’re really pretty and I really like you and you make me nervous when you put your hands on my chest and I like it but it’s distracting and I can’t focus when you’re around because you’re all I can think about.” He says rambling but I shut him off by gently pressing my lips to his. He stops talking and when I pull back I look at his dazed face.

“Can you focus now?” I ask holding onto his face.

“Fuck no.” He says before pushing his lips against mine and wrapping his arms around my waist. He lifts me up making me yelp in surprise, he spins us around and places me back down but doesn’t disconnect our lips as one of his hands rises to rest on my face. I move my hands up to thread them in his hair pulling a satisfying sound from his mouth. He slides his tongue into my mouth through my slightly parted lips and swirls his tongue around mine. The closeness of our bodies causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach, a tingly sensation takes over my body dancing up and down my spine. Eventually, he pulls away gasping and I smirk at him.

“I see you can hold your breath longer when there’s an incentive.” 

“Y-yeah I guess so.” He says rubbing his head.

“I’ll have to bear that in mind then,” I say before pressing my lips to his again, smiling against his lips.

-

AN: I just watched Avatar: The Way of Water and I really enjoyed it (except for the fact it had some really sad moments that I was crying for) and I loved the characters.

Thanks for 200 followers!

Edit: This is rapidly increasing thanks to you guys!

I hope you enjoyed!

[daisybianca]

pairing: lando norris x femalereader

summary: max was your ex who chose to cheat on you. now he wants you back. too bad you're already someone else's...

warnings: cursing words, possessiveness

(a/n): don't get me wrong, i love max. soneone had to be the bad guy, though.

WHEN SOMEONE KNOCKED on your door at ten in the evening, you didn't expect it to be Max. He was holding flowers in his hand and was completely soaked from the rain.

He looked... well, he was fine.

Just like you remembered him.

Tall, strong, blond hair, dreamy but also empty eyes.

You could see absolutely no emotion in him.

He had been a chapter in your life someday. A really important one, you had to admit. But now you had already turned the page.

Did he even know that?

“(y/n)… um… hi,” he said, his eyes glistening.

Hi? Really?

Fuck no.

You were sure he'd have something better to say to those tall, blond Germans he fucked while you still had a relationship with him.

"I'm so, so sorry." He took a breath. "You're not answering my calls or texts, so I came here so I could speak to you myself."

Wrong choice.

"Please, let me talk to you, baby."

Before you could even take a breath to answer, a voice came from behind you.

"Honey, who are you talking to over there?" Lando opened the door wide enough for Max's face to be revealed. Max's red face.

"What the hell?" Max took a small step back, his expression almost too funny for you to handle. "Lando?"

"Max." Lando stepped ahead, protectively covering your body with his, fully filling Max's view so he couldn't see you hidden beside him.

Neither of the three of you knew what to say at that moment, and you just stared at each other for a few seconds.

"What are you doing here?" Max's question was totally out of context. You could tell he was astonished.

"Livin', actually." Lando responded, his British accent kicking in. "What are you doing here?" His beautiful eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Stopped by to see my girl," Max raised his chin up.

Lando laughed. You almost let a giggle escape as well.

"Well, let me clarify," Lando started, dramatically clearing his voice as if he were to give a speech. "This is my home," he mentioned to the apartment around us. "This is my soon wife-to-be," His hand wrapped around your back possessively. "And these fucking flowers are for the trash can." He said and grabbed the door's handle. "Thank you for stopping by. Also, make sure you shove these up your ass. She's allergic to gardenias, you stupid piece of shit."

Lando closed the door with a loud sound.

A few seconds passed, and he turned to look at you. Before he could say anything, you felt a tickle in your nose and gave up to the sneezing.

You sneezed once.

Twice.

Three times in a row.

Before the fourth one, Lando had already picked you up, locking you in his hands. "Sometimes you make me wonder about your taste in men."

You laughed before sneezing again. "He's not a man."

"Yeah, I know." Lando replied, placing a small peck on your lips. "He's the stupidest boy I know."

[thegoldencontracts]

Surprise

Summary: You're bored. What better way to pass the time than surprise-kissing your boyfriend?

Characters: Azul, Jade

Notes: Flustered Jade and Azul aghhh

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was startled from his paperwork by the sensation of your lips brushing against his cheek. He loathed to admit the way he practically leapt up from his seat, scrambling to turn to meet your gaze.

"W-What was that?" He asked, desperately attempting to fan away the flush of his cheeks. You smirked.

"I was bored," you said. "Is that not reason enough?"

To tease him like this? Certainly not.

Azul turned away from you with a huff.

"Please refrain- refrain from such... Improper behavior, in the future," he said. That was a terrible mistake.

Your grin widened, somehow.

"Oh?" You said, tilting your head in amusement. "You don't like this?"

The ticklish feeling of your hand on his side made him squirm, but not quite as much as your words.

Azul sighed. He didn't have the time not bandwidth to cower like some child at the mere sight of your smirk. You could find someone else to indulge you.

"I'm busy, dearest," he said, meeting your gaze for a moment before turning back to his paperwork.

"You suuuuure?" You asked.

Azul merely rolled his eyes.

"Yes, yes, I'm certain," he said. A pause.

"Okay, then!" You said. "I'll leave you be!"

Azul's eyes widened. You were- leaving him be? Just like that?

Well, wasn't that- Just lovely?

He felt his leg bouncing antsily as he continued his paperwork. He concentrated, yes, got some work done-

For a grand total of five minutes. Then, he turned to you with a pout.

"Huh?" You said, playing dumb. You knew what he wanted. "Did I do something, Azul?"

Azul pouted.

"Y-You're well-aware," he said, desperately attempting to retain eye contact. You laughed.

"No, no," you said. "Tell me: do you need something?"

Azul glared at you. You just laughed, entirely undeterred.

After a few seconds, he sighed. Clearly, he'd have to be honest.

"I- don't suppose a break from my work would hurt," he said, barely able to retain his composure.

A pause. Then, the feeling of your lips against his cheek.

Again? You-

"Great!" You said, giggling at the way his cheeks flushed. "Let's go, Azul!"

He huffed.

"Insolent cretin."

You just laughed.

"Love you too, Azul."

Jade Leech

"So, the spores require careful-"

Jade was cut off from his highly informational speech by the feeling of your lips against his cheek.

So that was what you wanted. How amusing.

"Hmm?" He said, tilting his head in faux-confusion. "Did you need anything?"

You laughed.

"I was bored!" You said. "And isn't this a nice way to pass the time?"

He'd said it quite a few times already, but this really was dreadfully amusing. You really didn't know what you were getting yourself into, were you?

"Really, now?" He asked. "Well then, be careful what you wish fo-"

The sensation of your lips cut him off once more. His eyes widened for a split second as he processed what you'd just done.

Curses, he'd lost his composure once more. You just stood there, flashing him an impish grin.

"You always are so adept at catching me off-guard," he said with a laugh.

You merely shot him a deadpan look.

"Your face is red, Jade." You said. "Like, really red."

Of course you'd noticed.

"Apologies," he said. "I- forgot my sunscreen, you see, and I'm an individual who tans rather easily. I truly am embarrassed at my failure to remember to care for my skin."

"Right," you said. "Totally believe you."

"Good."

"So," you said. "You won't mind if I do it again?"

Jade cursed himself. You'd called his bluff. Why hadn't he anticipated this? Really, he should've prepared himself!

"I'll take that as a 'no', then," you said, pressing yet another kiss, this time dangerously close to his lips.

W-What was that? Why exactly were you being so affectionate all of a sudden?

The fluttering sound of a phone camera instantly snapped Jade back to his senses.

"Heh, sorry," you said, not looking too apologetic. Jade grinned. You'd just gone a step too far.

"Oh?" He said, holding your hand with a smirk. "You've just collected blackmail of me?"

You gulped.

"How rude," he continued, bringing his own lips up to yours. Unlike you, he had no hesitation in going in for a proper kiss. So you were shy in your own ways. How amusing.

And as you stood there, dazed, he brought up his own phone to your face, taking a picture.

"W-Wha-?"

"Well then," he said- more cooed. "I do believe that makes us even."

[ephemerensis]

Lavender // Tim Drake x GN! Reader

part 1. this is part 2. i just took the LSAT (law school test) feeling floored and dejected right now i cannot lie! rly just ran through writing this 😖 not proofread im sry

—

When you came to, it was Red Robin at your bedside. His hands neatly folded beneath his head as he rested it on the side of the mattress. The way his back rose and fell, and the way he was still as you shifted around indicated he was asleep. You knew little of him, but enough to know that this was a rarity, to see him in his slumber. And it softened something in you, awakening a yearning to protect this peace for him.

Memories of the previous night ran through your head again, and from what you could collect you remembered that bludgeoning feeling that accompanied his little outburst. To think you were the source of his stress, and his being here amplified that. Tense even in sleep like a guard dog at your beck and call.

But he’d forget you soon enough.

If you were honest with yourself, you held a selfish desire for this arrangement to last as long as possible for all the wrong reasons. He was kind and dependable and witty; talking was easy and secretly fawning over him was even easier. This, of course, you knew was unsustainable. You’re a job. He’s a hero in a mask.

When all is good and done and you go your separate ways, he’d find something else to stress over. Although, you hoped it wouldn’t be so taxing. You weren’t happy to be a burden, but if you were his worst then the rest would be easy to bury when you were gone. Wishful thinking, there’s always bigger fish to fry. But worse was the thought that something else could make him as upset as this.

He looked so peaceful, face resting in his palms, features angelically frozen in place. A couple of stray strands dangled between the whites of his mask, brushing against his nose as a breeze trailed in from the open bedside window. You reached forward to push them back, but as soon as your fingers brushed his locks he stirred. Your eyes widened; pulling your hand back, out of embarrassment or something other— you weren’t sure, you pretended to be interested in the birds flying by outside as he’d picked his head up off the sheets.

“Y/N?” It was a wonder you mistook him for Tim the night before, the fatigue was likely to blame. What a ridiculous mistake. Where Tim sounded gentle and fleeting, like waves lapping at the shore, Red Robin was more grounded in his speech. They were uncannily similar in their own respects, but the difference was undeniable. When Tim spoke, it was like he coaxed you into listening, when Red Robin calls your name it’s like he pulls you to him.

You turned from the window to look at him, feigning as composed of an expression as you could, as if your hand wasn’t inches from his face a couple seconds ago.

He stood, stoically brushing himself off and straightening himself, “are you feeling alright? How’s your arm?”

That’s right. You’d been shot at. You glanced at your bandaged arm, neatly wrapped and tightly bound. It honestly wasn’t so bad, it was the tranquilizers that really hit you, and the worst of that effect was long over if your sudden alertness had anything to mean by it, “fine, I almost forgot about it.”

He shook his head, arms crossed, “I don’t know, you seemed pretty shaken yesterday.”

“Was not.”

“Sorry, who was screaming crying?” The ghost of a smile danced on his lips.

Your face burned red remembering your sorry state, “you said you wouldn’t show! How was I supposed to know?”

His lips curled up into a real smile with the twinge of something like guilt hidden underneath it. You didn’t mean to make him feel bad, but the fact that he was smiling was enough to ease your heart. “Told you I could get in anywhere.”

The serene expression on his face reminded you of Tim. In almost every sense they were different, but something in their mannerisms aligned as if the very fabric of their nature were cut from the same cloth and tailored by someone else’s hand. And although you’d only met him once, Tim struck you as someone you really wanted to know. He was magnetizing and more importantly, things with him felt like they were easy.

“Do you know if Tim Drake got out safely?”

Red Robin nodded, “he’s fine.”

“He hid me in the first place, you know,” you smiled to yourself, “and then he went back out for his brother or something. He seems like a really good person.”

He snorted and you swore if you could see his eyes he’d be rolling them, “he should’ve taken you outside to the police or left you with a guard at least.”

You furrowed your brows, “don’t be mean.”

“Just saying,” he mumbled. “They did book tickets for you to return, the Waynes.”

“I’m not going back, I told you that.”

“At least think it over.”

“I slept on it, I’m staying.” You cut him off before he could protest, “at least until the launch. And I meant what I said, you don’t have to watch me anymore. It’s not like I remember all the files I’d read, Gotham is safe, and I have my own people. I’ll just have to keep a… lower profile.”

“You meant what you said?” You couldn’t read his expression, the mask got in the way.

“Every word.” But the way he asked the question made you want to throw in a ‘mostly’ for insurance.

“So you really like Tim Drake?”

Your face burned, immediately crossing your arms in defense. That part of the conversation conveniently slipped your mind.“You know that’s not what I meant!”

“So you don’t like Tim.” The nerve he had to smirk at you left your jaw on the floor as you stumbled for a response. As if you’d admit it twice, you didn’t even know him that well.

“Stop bullying me,” you grumbled.

He just snorted, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “You don’t need to keep a low profile. As long as you’re here I’ll take care of you.”

You whipped your head to look at him. The last thing you needed was to be a burden to the infinitely charming, slightly annoying, masked stranger sitting in front of you.

“No way, I can handle—“

“I’ll take care of you,” he reiterated, in that frustratingly soft tone that made you forget everything else. Your resolve was by no means something weak, but you already had an inclination towards him, you knew this. And he was too tantalizing to deny, he must know this. It wasn’t fair, you had to fold.

“Thank you.”

Despite it all, you still exercised your caution. Unlike before, you were careful about announcing your whereabouts or even spending excessive time in public. He would do his job, but you would do your best to make it easier. And things were quieter, nothing happened.

A week after the altercation your schedules cleared enough for you to meet Tim for coffee. He’d reached out first but you brought up meeting, for business purposes of course. You’d arrived early, out of something like excitement or anticipation. And he was late.

“Hey, sorry traffic held me up.” Your heart sped up when you saw him walking towards the table, and you weren’t sure if it was your brain tricking you into thinking you liked him that much or if you were really that pathetic. His hair was messy in the way hair gets tousled when you change shirts, but it suited him more so than the polished, perfect look he’d worn the day of the gala.

“That’s okay,” you shook your head with as calm a smile as you could muster, “my schedule is open today. I’m not in a rush.”

He beamed at you, taking the opposite seat. “Right! What’d you order?” Tim nodded towards the cup in front of you.

“Oh, it’s—“

“Wait no let me guess.” He squinted at the cup before locking eyes with you. The cup itself wasn’t clear, but maybe he could get a sense for what it was based on the residue on the straw or something ridiculous like that. After a moment, it seemed he’d decided. He spoke with confidence, complete and certain, “a chai… dirty. Like four shots of espresso dirty, light ice, sugar free sweetener.”

And he was wrong. You burst out laughing, “What? No.”

His eyes had a tendency to smile before his lips did, you noticed. He was shocked for two seconds before laughing with you. “Was I close?”

“Not even, you order espresso with chai? Are you okay?” You scrunched your nose and shook your head just thinking about it. Not just espresso but four shots of it, he was something else.

“No, see, I’m more of a straight black coffee kind of guy.”

You had to laugh, making him stare at you with an amused confusion. First his archaic responses to emails and now this. He just looked young, but he was 40 and balding deep down inside, you knew it. “And you like reading Kafka and playing chess too?”

He tilted his head to the side in catlike curiosity, and the sunlight caught in his eyes the way it glimmers on the surface of the ocean. It wasn’t fair to compare him to a cat though, you’d supposed, he was a dog. Through and through. “How’d you know?”

When he’d gotten his coffee order (pitch black; you shuddered just thinking about it) and you’d both settled into the late morning, he suggested a walk around the city.

You were supposed to be playing things safe, sticking to quiet locations that Red Robin could clearly monitor you from. But truthfully, you hadn’t had time to see the city, nor did you want to turn down the most charming guide the place had to offer. So of course, you agreed. Red Robin was good at his job, this much would be fine.

“You know, I’m not so bad a dancer. I just hadn’t waltzed in a long time.” He’d taken you to a park in the heart of it all. It was huge, sprawling walk ways amongst rolling hills dotted with trees. Somewhere in it was a lake, he promised, so that’s where you were headed arm in arm.

“Right,”he scoffed, “I believe you.” You could’ve drowned in the sarcasm that dripped from his voice. If he wasn’t so chipper about it, you might’ve even been offended.

“It’s true!” You smacked his arm with a half hearted huff he had nerve to laugh at. After a breath, you started again, “I’ve been meaning to ask, what cologne do you wear?”

An emotion flickered across his face, going as a quickly as it came. If you’d blinked you’d have missed it, the briefest twitch of his left brow and the way his lips parted for a millisecond. Not that it meant anything to you, you could’ve imagined it, because he was back and beaming before you could push on.

“Why? Do you want it?” From seemingly nowhere, he pulled out a pocket sized atomizer and spritzed the wrist of his sweater. Tim linked his arm with yours again, before taking the cologne covered sleeve your shoulder and arm with it. The scent of that lavender vanilla washed over you again. In your head you thought they were Pavlov-ing you in some tag teamed manner. At first it was whatever, but now those gentle notes meant safety and comfort. It made you mellow. “Just hang around me more often, it’ll stick.”

“Red Robin wears the same one,” and there it was again. Except this time his face didn’t change, but you could feel the muscles the arm linked to yours tense briefly and his pace slowed by a millisecond. “I just thought it was a funny coincidence. I’ve never met anyone else that’s worn it, and I know my perfumes. You’re a fan right?”

“Oh no, not at all.” He said it too quickly and he knew it. It looked like his featured had frosted over, like a deer in headlights. Tim cleared his throat, glancing away awkwardly. “I prefer Red Hood,” he tacked on.

“Oh,” you frowned, maybe he was shy about it or maybe Red Robin yelled at him. He was displeased enough the other day. “You’re awfully similar, I think you’d get along. He’s a little meaner though. Well, not mean but like… closed off.”

“Yeah that guy sounds like he sucks,” he mumbled.

“Don’t say that.” It came out sterner than you’d intended or anticipated. You don’t know why the urge to defend your masked stalker arose so strongly within you, but you didn’t feel justified in anyone thinking anything less of him than what he was. Softening your tone, you tried again. “He cares a lot, and he tries really hard, and he’s good at what he does, and it makes a difference.”

He just stared at you. But not in a way you could decipher. He wasn’t annoyed or spiteful or anything. He just stared; mouth slightly agape and face unshakingly still.

Tim’s silence spurred on your embarrassment, maybe you’d spoken out of turn. You were suddenly very interested in the foliage, “hey, look at that… tree.”

“You’re right.” Relief flooded your body as he broke the tension, and moreso because he agreed with you. “Do you wanna go out sometime? With me?”

You slowed your steps to a halt. It came out a little out of the blue, but more importantly, “this isn’t a date?”

“I can do better than this for a first date.” And with that oh so gentle smile on his face, you were doomed to believe him.

Tim delivered, of course. He took you to a pottery house to paint your own plates and spin your own mugs; none of which were shaped very nicely by either of you, but he insisted they were gorgeous and… avant garde.

After you’d both wasted enough clay and everything was ready to be fired, he took you to a private garden with the most scenic blooms in Gotham. For a workaholic shut in, he knew an impressive amount of plant facts— at least enough to give you a guided tour of the place and tell you what each flower in the bouquet he picked for you meant.

Subsequently he’d prepared a picnic dinner under starry skies and a full moon, that he insisted he’d cooked himself. He was lying, but you wouldn’t find out until years after.

So saying yes to a second date was an easy answer. And to a third. A fourth.

Before you knew it, you were going steady, and the day of the product launch was soon approaching. You didn’t know what you’d do after. It’s not like you had everything on the files memorized, so if anyone kidnapped you for information, Gotham would be safe. But likely they’d try anyways and you couldn’t keep dragging Red Robin along on a string.

You’d grown fond of his presence though, telling him secrets or asking for advice about Timberly, and you were disappointed when he rejected your employment offer. Not that it surprised you, he had his own agenda. You weren’t scared of going long distance with Tim, he’d reassured you that the two of you could FaceTime during your 30 minute lunches and that he liked you, like really liked you. And you could believe anything out of his mouth these days. Moreso you were sad you’d miss him, well, them. One was your confidant and the other your lover; leaving felt disheartening.

“Tell me why you like me again,” you asked. You and Tim were bird watching at a local wildlife sanctuary. Even though it was a Saturday, the reserve was big (and unpopular) enough to be sparse. And the stillness of it all gave you enough room to hear yourself think and bask in the ambiance of being around him.

The truth was you didn’t know much. It was impressive how, with the lengths the two of you would talk, you learned nothing about him. Everything centered around you or the city or something other, and you couldn’t control it at all. He was enchantingly skilled at directing conversation.

“Because your eyes sparkle when you talk and your hair is shiny,” he answered.

You nudged his shoulder, making him lower the binoculars he was looking through from his eyes. “That’s not what you said last time.”

“I find new reasons every time I see you!” Handing the binoculars to you, he pointed in the distance at some vague tree. “Look there, I think it’s a blackbird.”

You peered through the lens and after some squinting to try and deliberate branches from feathers, you could see what he was talking about. “Tim that’s a crow.”

“No way,” he took the binoculars back to take another look. After a few seconds he shook his head solemnly, “it’s too small to be a crow. I’m so sorry, but you’re wrong.”

You gasped at the accusation, as if you could ever be wrong, “it’s too big to be a blackbird!” Looking for the bird again to confirm what you saw, you huffed, “its beak isn’t even—“

When you’d whipped around to tell him to look again he caught you off guard, just looking at you with the most serene smile you’d ever seen.

“Yellow,” you finished. “It’d be yellow if it was a blackbird.”

It was one of those where you couldn’t tell if he was teasing you or being genuine, although neither was every far off from the other, overlapping often like the ripples fish make in a pond. In this regard, he was uncannily like Red Robin; you couldn’t tell a thing he was thinking.

A faint whistling sound pierced through the air for a moment, so subtle it could’ve been mistaken for bird song. That moment was all it took for Tim’s expression to change, barking a command for you to duck before pulling you down by your arm anyway. The dull thunk that hit the tree you were leaning on seconds later told you why.

The red tail of a dart was stuck in the trunk where your neck was seconds before. You really couldn’t catch a break. Your head snapped towards the sound of rustling leaves in the direction the dart was fired from.

“Did anything hit you?” he whispered and you shook your head. Before you could think anything else your feet were moving on their own, trying to keep up with him as he weaved through the trees, dragging you along. The grip he had on your wrist burned and under different circumstances you’d have been impressed with his agility through the rough terrain, like a third grader admiring the fastest kid in school.

Despite his talents, you weren’t so graceful and you found yourself tumbling along. In your own way you were gifted with tripping on every root, rock, and stone that littered the ground. If it weren’t for the grip on your wrist you would’ve fallen and given up at the first rock that crossed your path.

He ushered you into a small bird watching cabin before letting you go and closing the door behind him. You gripped your knees trying to catch your breath as he peeked out the windows.

“Stay low, they can shoot through the windows.” You nodded, sliding to the floor with your back to the wall. Instead of sitting beside you, Tim headed straight towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To get help. You’ll be safe here,” he flashed you a reassuring smile. But before he could leave you caught his arm, shaking your head.

“Red Robin’s here, we’ll be okay. Just stay.” This you knew was true because he said he would be, and you didn’t need much more confirmation beyond that. The only thing that irked you about the whole situation was why he was so late, he’d prevented almost everything so far, but you were certain he was rushing over or taking care of it as you spoke.

To your surprise, Tim didn’t budge, looking you dead in the eye with one of those unreadable expressions again. He didn’t tear away from you or do anything intimidating, but it was in the mystery of his expression that you found yourself nervous.

“They’re not far behind. Let me go.” He spoke gently but poignantly, like goading a child. And while it was compelling, as he so often was, it didn’t make sense.

“No he’s here, it’s not safe outside!” It felt like you were begging. In all the time you’d spent together, you knew one thing for certain. Tim wasn’t stupid, and he definitely wasn’t irrational. This was something else, and he wasn’t being himself.

“Y/N.” In your head you ran through a hundred scenarios. Maybe he got hit by a dart and it made him delusional, or maybe he was a robot clone short circuting. But the plea in his voice when he called your name struck you in the same way an apology from the other night did.

He was still as you let go, reaching instead to cover his eyes with your hand. With just half his face in view, you wondered why you’d never seen it before.

“You’re him.” It was almost a whisper, you didn’t even know if he could hear it or not. But it dawned on you as all the coincidences and reconciliations aligned. All down to the cologne he wore.

“No.”He was firm, but his voice wavered. Maybe you imagined it, but nothing he could say now would change your mind. “I just want to get help.”

Gingerly, Tim pushed your hand down and you took a step back, reeling in the thought.

“You’re Red Robin.” In your own head you tried to disprove it, but it made sense. And you almost felt bad for knowing it because you never wanted to know his identity, that was always supposed to be his to keep.

“I’m a blackbird.”

“You’re a robin.”

But time wasn’t on his side. No one else was coming and the perpetrators were advancing. So without a final refute, he took a breath and reached for the door.

“I’ll be back.”

—

tags! @jedidiah1201 @a-taken-url @lara20aral @moonccakes

[jaikoyaki]

✹KANG HAERIN X 6THMEMBER!READER✹

Moments<3

PHONING LIVE 29/05/24

"But sometimes—" Haerin began, answering the fan's question, her soft voice flowing smoothly until—

Hiccup

The sound, sharp and delicate, cut through her words unexpectedly, and your gaze instantly locked with hers, both of you wide-eyed in surprise. A smile broke free before you could even think to suppress it.

Hiccup

There it was again, and this time, you couldnt hold back. A laugh burst out of you, soft at first, but quickly growing as the sound of her second hiccup echoed between you.

she giggled, cheeks slightly tinted pink, trying her best to finish her thought. "Sometimes, I—"But the next hiccup hit her right in the middle of her sentence, this one louder, and it was too much. You lost it, laughter pouring out of you uncontrollably as you doubled over, your body shaking with the effort to breathe.

Haerins shy, flustered expression only added to the humor. Despite her best efforts to pout, her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Its not that funny," she said, a playful glint in her eyes as she looked down in embarrassment, her lips curling into an irresistible smile.

"I'm sorry-" you managed between gasps, barely able to keep still as the giggles took over. You reached out, hitting her shoulder lightly in a playful gesture. But as your hand touched her, another hiccup escaped, as if perfectly on cue, trolling her once again.

Haerin let out a mock "ow," her voice so soft and light it only made you laugh harder. "is it really that funny?" she asked, her voice trembling with suppressed laughter, her own eyes squeezing shut in her attempt to regain composure. She tried, really tried, to put on a serious face, but it was impossible. Her hiccups came in quick succession now, and every one of them was like a tiny bell, ringing out her inability to keep her cool.

As if driven by her embarrassment, she made a feeble attempt to pinch you, her hands lightly brushing your sides, but the effort only caused another bout of hiccups to strike, leaving her even more helpless.

You tried to speak, but every time you opened your mouth, laughter came spilling out instead. “Sh-She keeps getting interrup—”" your words trailed off as you suddenly felt it, a small hiccup of your own interrupting your speech, catching you off guard.

Haerin whips her head toward you, pointing with her index finger, a triumphant, mischievous grin spreading across her face. Before either of you can hold it in, the laughter erupts again

PHONING LIVE 24/07/22

You leaned against Haerin’s shoulder, letting out a quiet sigh. You were sure you had gotten enough sleep, but for some reason, fatigue had caught up.

“Let’s watch it together now everyone!” Minji clapped her hands, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she moved toward the camera, ready to play a special video for their 2nd-anniversary live.

"Camera adjustment time," she added with a grin, shifting it slightly to the right to frame the white wall where the projection would play. The room darkened as Hanni checked in with the bunnies, "Can you guys see the screen okay?"

The video started playing, showing clips of all of you from before your debut, practicing tirelessly. You settled down on the couch, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. Without thinking, you lay your head on Haerin’s lap.

Your heart fluttered ever so slightly as Haerin gently ran her fingers through your hair, her touch light and delicate. Her fingertips grazed your cheek and jaw, sending tiny sparks of warmth through you. It was too comfortable. Before you knew it, your eyelids became heavy, and you drifted off to sleep, lulled by the quiet hum of the video and the soothing presence of Haerin.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

“Is it over?” Dani asked as the lights flickered back on, confirming the end of the video. Everyone clapped in applause, but Haerin, noticing you still asleep, quickly covered your ears with her palm to muffle the noise

“Y/N unnie fell asleep,” she whispered, looking at the others. You’d always playfully scolded her for calling you ‘unnie,’ especially since you were only two months older, but she never stopped. And though you protested, you secretly found it endearing.

Dani, catching sight of the scene, couldn’t help but coo. “Aww!” she pulled out her phone, leaning back slightly to snap a picture of you resting on Haerin's lap.

“Y/N-ahhh,” Hanni called out softly, her voice gentle as she tried to wake you. As much as she hated to pull you from your peaceful slumber, she knew you wouldn’t want to miss the rest of the event.

You stirred a little, your eyes fluttering open, still groggy as your brain tried to catch up. Realizing you had fallen asleep, you shot up from Haerin’s lap, blinking in confusion. “What happened?” you asked, your voice a little raspy with sleep, as the room filled with soft laughter.

“What’s so funny?” You tilted your head confused.

A/n- I was supposed to write 3 but I couldn't think of anything else lmao