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wildernessuntothemselves · 5 months

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Jealousy, Jealousy... | Final Part

A/N: this is the main ending. there is an alternative ending available for the other boy on patreon. the link for which is found at the end of this chapter.

Word count: 13k

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, mostly dom!reader, face-sitting, PIV sex, dirty talk, creampie, handjob, heartbreak.

“Hey, baby.” You greet Yeonjun, giving him a kiss on the lips. “Ready to go?”

You were picking him up to go home after a long day of work for the both of you. You had in mind a night of drinking wine and complaining about your day until you passed out in his arms and you can’t wait to get home already.

“Just a little longer, doll.” He tells you and you immediately start whining. “Junnie… those two bottles of wine I bought aren’t gonna drink themselves. We gotta get cracking.”

He chuckles tiredly. “While I appreciate your efforts to get me drunk, Beomgyu has composed a new song and I need to stay back to hear it.”

“Oh.” It’s still so weird to you how you now have to hear news about what your best friend is up to from other people. You used to know these things first. If this was a few months ago, you’d have already heard the song before anyone else did. But now you’re lucky if you even get to hear it at all.

But that’s for the best. You’re doing good with Yeonjun. You’re doing good without Beomgyu. You’re breathing. You’re eating. Your heart is beating… maybe even for someone else for a change. It may have been excruciatingly painful at first–forcing yourself to step away from him, not seeking him out to try to make things better after your most recent fallout, not jumping at the chance when he reached out himself, pretending like you’re too busy to see him, making up excuses so you won’t be alone with him, building up your walls so maybe one day you can stand in a room with him and not have to hold back every cell of your body from throwing yourself at his feet and begging him to love you, but you’ve gotten a lot better at it.

“Do you wanna listen to it?” Yeonjun asks when he sees your curiosity, but you hesitate. Should you? Maybe you should just wait in the car…

But when you see Beomgyu come out with his acoustic guitar and set it on his lap, you find yourself nodding and grabbing a seat next to Yeonjun. You miss hearing him sing. You miss being privy to his passions and whims. Maybe it's selfish of you to allow yourself the opportunity to witness more of him than you’re willing to give him but you never claimed to not be selfish.

As if Beomgyu shares your thoughts, he glances at you, hesitating for a second and you can see the thoughts flitting behind his pretty eyes–you know him too well. Is he thinking about kicking you out? Does he not want you to hear the song because you’ve been keeping your distance from him?

Eventually though he looks down at his guitar and starts to play, and as soon as the first words leave his lips, your heart drops.

Oh, I’m falling in love

As time goes by

As my feelings grow

I’m becoming more anxious

How deep is your love?

I want to ask

Couldn’t it be the same if not deeper?

Your heart lurches in your chest at the lyrics. Falling in love? Is Beomgyu falling in love with Haeun? You know you have no right to feel hurt by this but you do. Why couldn’t he have loved you? What does he see in her that you couldn’t have given him? Is she prettier than you? Smarter? Kinder? Funnier? What was it that made you fall short of deserving his love?

Seeing you change little by little

I’m afraid I’ll lose you

Not mine

My one minute, one second

Take them all

All my time is yours

Why?

Why have you changed?

Why are you so far away from me?

Now we are at different paths.

It hurts even more that it seems she’s not reciprocating his feelings. She has everything you want and she doesn’t even want it. He’s willing to give her everything but it seems it’s not enough for her. Oh how cruelly ironic.

She seemed to be very into him before, at least after the band got more popular, and with every increase in their popularity, she attached herself to him more and more, but something must’ve gone wrong along the line. You have known for some time that Beomgyu and Haeun have been having relationship troubles but you don’t know exactly what because Beomgyu hasn’t told anyone but you guess it’s really bad if this song is about them.

Is she in love with someone else? Has she lost interest? How could she do it so easily when it’s taking everything in you to do the same. Can she tell you her secret so you can stop suffering and give your heart completely to the man who actually wants it?

How can I go back

To our beginning

When we were looking at the same place

The when we had the same heart

I hope you don’t know it

This feeling

Even though I love you

I still feel alone

He’s hiding it from her, afraid to reveal his feelings–maybe because he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way, that if he reveals them she’ll reject him. You know that feeling all too well. You wish you could protect him from it even if he was the cause of your own similar pain.

As the chorus repeats, you become even more sure that the song is about him. You can hear the anguish so clearly in his voice. Beomgyu has always been so talented, always able to give his all to the song and live it as if it’s his own, but you know him too well. You know this is real pain.

I’m drowning in you

Don’t leave me like this

As the bridge reaches its climax, your body shakes, wanting to lunge forward and take him into your arms, to save him from himself even if it would tear you to pieces. But you can’t. You don’t have the right to anymore. All you can do is sit there and wait for him to finish his song, wait for the boys to discuss it as if it’s not his heart being laid out in the open to be dissected.

“What do you think?” He asks once the song is over, biting the skin of his finger, a nervous habit you’ve always quietly found adorable. You would always grab his hand and kiss the poor finger better, scolding him for hurting himself, but secretly you loved it. You loved having his hand in yours. You loved having an excuse to press your lips against him. And you loved the smile he would always give you in response.

“It’s really good." Kai says, impressed. "Didn’t know that someone as emotionally stunted as you could come up with such a moving song."

"Fuck off." Beomgyu mutters, not in the mood for jokes, obviously nervous to see what the others think.

“Yeah, I like it too. You said you’re thinking of having violins in the opening?” Taehyun asks, picking up a music sheet.

Beomgyu nods. “Yeah. I know we’ve never done that before but I feel like it would really add to the atmosphere of the song.”

"I think it could be fun." Taehyun hums, turning to Soobin. “What do you think?”

"I agree. It's good to experiment a bit while still maintaining our sound which I think this song does really well. It could expose us to more people while still not alienating our existing fanbase.” He praises and Beomgyu smiles, relieved at his song being so well-received by the other members. “I especially like the bridge part. I think once Yeonjun sings it, it would really elevate the song.”

Beomgyu's face falls at that but he quickly covers it up. You furrow your eyebrows. That can't feel good, being compared negatively with Yeonjun, even if Soobin didn't mean it like that.

You look at Yeonjun, who hadn't said a word so far. He was staring at Beomgyu weirdly. Did he not like the song?

You nudge him, giving him a questioning look and he just shakes his head, smiling at you before saying, "I like it. Good job, man."

Beomgyu gives him a tense smile in response, and the group falls into an awkward silence for a few seconds–a weird tension hanging in the air, before Soobin clears his throat and begins discussing how they'll play the song, what parts could be improved and who will get which part. You don’t really listen anymore, just looking between Yeonjun and Beomgyu.

Your boyfriend seems to have gotten over his weird reaction, now focused on the technicalities. Beomgyu is focused too but he doesn’t look as enthusiastic as you expected him to be–as you'd seen him get when talking about his songs before–and it's more proof to you that this is a very personal song to him.

As the boys finally break up after a while, most of them going their separate ways to pack up their stuff and get ready to leave, your boyfriend stays behind with Soobin, still discussing something with him. That’s when you spot Beomgyu alone, putting his guitar in its case, and you take the opportunity to go talk to him, unable to hold yourself back this time.

“Hey, Beomgyu, that song was really good.” You start by saying, wanting to congratulate him on a really good song but also needing an opener. But Beomgyu doesn’t say anything in response, simply giving you a blank look–which fucking hurt but you guess you deserve it–so you continue lamely, trying to get him to respond. “You’re really talented. I don’t think you’re gonna need to moonlight as a stripper anymore.” You try to joke but again he doesn’t really say anything, turning his attention back to his guitar bag which he zips up.

“Umm… Beomgyu, that song… is it about you?” You bite the bullet, and he finally gives you some sort of response, albeit nonverbal. He looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. “Is it about you and Haeun?”

“What?” He frowns and you explain yourself nervously, hoping you weren’t overstepping boundaries that have sprung up in your absence. “Well, the song is about a guy who loves someone who doesn’t feel the same about him and how she’s changing and being distant… is that what’s happening with Haeun?”

He sighs. “Maybe. So what?”

You wince at his callousness, like he doesn’t have time for you. You suppose you brought it on yourself with the way you've been avoiding him. Still you ignore it, determined to tell him what you think anyway. “Well, if it is, you should tell her. Tell her how you feel, she might feel the same way and you don’t even know. You might both be pulling away when all you want is to be with each other.” Yes, you know how hypocritical it is of you to say that but you can’t imagine a world in which anyone would reject Beomgyu’s love. “If you love her then you should tell her, right?”

He snorts. “What do you even know about how I feel? Do you have any idea about the amount of hurt and self-loathing it would cause me if she doesn’t feel the same way? How it would ruin our relationship if she’s not where I am?”

“I know.” You grit down on that same pain. “I know.”

He pauses, his anger burning out as soon as it ignites. Then he asks quietly, “Yeonjun?”

You press down on your lips. You know if you say no then he might figure it out. He might finally discover your wretched secret, so you smile and nod, fully knowing how hypocritical you are being right now. You’re such a fucking coward, you disgust even yourself.

“Right.” He is quiet for a minute, and the atmosphere is charged with weird, unreadable emotions that buzz in your ear and form sparks over your skin. You almost excuse yourself–not really wanting to leave despite how uncomfortable it is but knowing you should. You’ve said what you wanted to say. There is no good reason for you to linger around any longer.

But then Beomgyu speaks again. "Are you happy?"

You pause, frowning in suspicion at the unexpected question, which Beomgyu notices right away and clarifies, "We haven't talked in a while. I wanna make sure you're doing alright." He says, tone genuine… and a bit sad.

"I am." You allow, not being untruthful. You are alright, no matter how bad you feel doing it without him. "We're doing well. Yeonjun is as wonderful as ever. He is sweet and funny and he shows me something new everyday. Which is a bit scary for me–you know how I am afraid of change, but he makes it exciting.”

“I’m glad. I want you to be happy.” He smiles at you. It doesn’t reach his eyes but you know he means it. “And I wish I could be there to see it for myself. Do you think you can let me?”

That’s what you were afraid of. This is why you shouldn’t have talked to him. You knew he might use it to try to get back into your life, and you know how hard it would be for you to say no. But you do it anyway. You have to do it for yourself and for Yeonjun.

“I can’t. Not now.” Each meager letter leaving your mouth feels like a blow to the heart. It lays battered in your chest, asking you why the hell you would refuse it its salvation, but you just push it down again, silencing it.

“But I miss you.” His words come out choppy and weak, and you know he’s holding back tears. You hate him for it because it makes you want to cry too. “Don’t you miss me?”

“Of course, I miss you!” You whisper as if you don’t want the universe to hear it. "I'll always miss you. But I can't keep doing this with you anymore. I'm tired of the whiplash."

"No more whiplash.” He shakes his head harshly, getting closer to you but you step back, causing pain to bloom across his teary face. “I get it now. I've worked through my stuff and I'm ready to be a real friend again."

"Well, I haven't worked through mine.” You stand strong. Or as strongly as you can be under such duress. “I still need time and I will not have you rush me."

He moves back, shoulders hunched down. "I'm sorry."

"I know." You say tiredly before walking away, your bruised heart bleeding out at the bottom of your chest.

____________

Beomgyu’s song has become some kind of a local sensation. It is being listened to by a lot of the young people in your city–resonating with many youths who have gone through similar heartbreaks. From small unrequited crushes to the person you love falling out of love with you–who hasn’t loved more than they have been loved before?

The painfully relatable song has gained the boys a considerable amount of fame online too. They were being asked to do more gigs than ever. They’ve even gotten an interview, which you’re currently preparing them for, dressing them up to look their best on camera.

Like always, you’ve left Beomgyu for last, dreading being close to him still. And he gives you every reason to, staring at you the whole time you fix his clothes.

"What?" You finally ask, and he gives you a dumb look. "What?"

"You're staring." You tell him, and he averts his gaze. You can see from the ear poking out of his long hair that he’s blushing. "Oh. Didn't realize."

Oh, how many times you’ve teased him over the way his ears turn red when he’s embarrassed. It was such an endearing quality in him, just one of the many small reasons that made up the whole of you loving him.

You got back to styling him, pretending it doesn’t tug at your heartstrings anymore, and he goes back to staring at you.

After a long beat of silence, he asks awkwardly, "So what are you up to? What's new with you?"

"Well, I'm the creative director for this up and coming band's new song." You joke, trying to ease off the tension. Or maybe his cute involuntary reaction softened up your defenses a little bit.

"Oh, are they good?" He grins, falling gladly into your familiar banter.

"They are, but I think their bass guitarist only got the job because of his looks."

He gives an affronted gasp. "What the hell? Hater! What, you think just because he's so pretty he can't possibly be talented too? Us pretty people are always misjudged."

"Oh, you poor pretty boy." You reach out to pinch his chin, before you realize what you’re doing and quickly take your hand away, clearing your throat and stepping back. “All done.”

You give him a tense smile and turn to leave but his hand shoots out to grab your wrist.

"Wait." He shouts, and you look down at his hand wrapped around your wrist. He notices your discomfort and immediately lets you go. "Do you want to get together for some food or a movie or something?"

Why does he have to make this so hard? Why does he do this every time?

"Not yet." You repeat what you must’ve told him a dozen times before. You can't slip back into it. Because your skin still buzzes whenever you touch him and your heart clenches painfully around the hole he left in it whenever you see him. You need time apart to fully let the love you have for him go.

"When?” He asks, frustrated. “When will it end? What can I do to help? What do you need me to do so you can be my friend again?"

"I need you to give me space." You say firmly, standing your ground.

“But–”

“No buts, Beomgyu. You’re the one who made it this way. If you had been my friend when I needed you to, we wouldn’t have gotten into this situation. You need to deal with the consequences of your own actions.”

He stares at the ground, not answering you. You sigh, turning around to leave with no restrictions this time.

Though what you said to him about his previous behavior causing a rift between you wasn’t false, it wasn’t entirely the truth either. The other reason you felt you couldn’t be his friend again yet is that you’re still not over him, and you’ve made a promise to yourself and to Yeonjun that you will only be devoting yourself to him from now on, and Beomgyu being there is just going to hinder your progress.

But as you watch the boys do their interview, you can’t help but feel guilty for what you’d said to Beomgyu. You know it was the right thing to do, but seeing him look so glum, his light dimmed and his spirits down, you wish you had held it off at least for later.

He is acting nothing like his normal loud, talkative self. He looks down and doesn’t speak unless directly asked a question. It hurts your heart because you know the people watching this won’t get to see how funny and bright and passionate he is. They’ll see him as the quiet guy staring at his own feet. He might still get some fans who would be into the quiet, sad look but that’s not who Beomgyu is. That’s not what he wants to be known as.

But the rest of the boys are covering for him well, especially Yeonjun. He is so charming, you know he’s gonna be stealing hearts left and right when this airs. He certainly has managed to put a smile on your face despite all the conflicting feelings you’re feeling, and you make sure he sees it whenever he glances in your direction.

_______________

The boys are doing better than ever, more interviews and gigs coming in and filling their schedule up so rapidly they’ll barely have any free time soon. They’re already in talks with a record company looking to sign them. Which is why you’re actively savoring moments like this when you get to just hangout with Yeonjun at the mall, eating a snack as you take a break from shopping–one of your favorite activities to do as a couple.

“Just think, soon enough we won’t even be able to do this. We’d be getting mobbed by crowds wanting your autograph and pushing me out of the way to take pictures of you.” You say to Yeonjun, half-joking. It might really happen one day with how quickly they’re gaining popularity. They might have small fame now but who knows what tomorrow will bring, and you believe in the boys. They’re talented enough to do it, and that both worries you and excites you.

“Well, I’ll only ever have eyes for you.” He winks at you, and you give him a small smile.

In moments like this you should feel happy. You are happy. But your happiness is incomplete. It is shadowed by worry and doubt. Yeonjun is so wonderful. He is so sweet and he can be very caring, but sometimes you can’t help but question how much he really feels for you. It keeps you from letting yourself completely go with him. He tells you words that are supposed to be charming, but they don’t sound personal. They don’t feel deep. You know he likes you, but is he ever going to love you?

Maybe you’re overthinking it. This is what a budding relationship is like–the novelty comes with uncertainty. The first times come with doubt. The young fire sometimes burns. You shouldn’t let yourself ruin it for you.

Yes, your love for him isn’t as old and deep-rooted as your love for Beomgyu but maybe that’s a good thing. It will take time to grow and flourish and become something just as beautiful or even more so. In time, you can learn to let go of your all-consuming love for your best friend, cover that gaping hole that Beomgyu has left in your heart, forget about the way every time you see Beomgyu with her you feel like screaming out so loud the gods themselves will weep–

“Beomgyu.” You gasp, seeing him in front of you. Fuck, he’s like bloody marry. Call his name three times and he appears.

You try to hide, putting your head down and attempting to cover your face with your hair but there is no mistaking Yeonjun’s bright orange head and Beomgyu quickly spots you and makes his way over to you with Haeun of all people.

“Curse your stupid hair.” You hiss at Yeonjun just before Beomgyu and Haeun arrive at the table.

"Hey, guys, are you on a date?" Beomgyu asks as if there was any doubt about it.

"Yes, actually." Yeonjun tells him in a tone that clearly conveys that you don’t want to be disturbed, But Beomgyu doesn’t care, grabbing a chair and pulling it out.

"Oh sweet." He sits down. "How have you guys been?"

“What are you doing, Beommie? We have a lot of shopping to do.” Haeun complains, and every time you hear her call him that you want to claw her tongue out.

"In a minute, baby. Let's rest our legs for a bit." He motions for Haeun to sit down, but she puts her hands on her hips. “I don’t want to rest.”

“Well then you go on and I’ll catch up with you.” He suggests and she huffs, deciding to sit down after all. Oh, joy.

“But I can’t leave you alone, Beommie.” She whines, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his neck, making you almost hurl.

Thankfully, Yeonjun takes your attention away from them. “So, what new crazy thing is your boss asking from you?”

You turn fully to him, trying your best to ignore the disgusting intruders. “Ugh, don’t even get me started. This morning, she–”

“Boss? What boss?” Beomgyu interrupts, and you clench your teeth, preparing yourself before turning your head to look towards him.

“The editor of Elements magazine. She saw the Frost shoot and wanted me to do a pictorial for them.”

“Oh my god, that is amazing.” He shouts, startling Haeun who was so close to his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

An awkward moment passes after his mindless question. Because we don’t talk? Because we’re not friends anymore?

Eventually, you decide to just shrug. “I guess it must’ve slipped my mind.”

“Right.” He clears his throat, going along. “Well, show me what you’ve done so far.”

You hesitate, glancing at Yeonjun who sighs and gestures for you to go ahead. So you pull up your phone, showing him some of the pictures you’ve already taken.

"Wow this is real artistic shit." Beomgyu awes and you laugh. Trust in Beomgyu to give such an un-nuanced but still somehow very flattering opinion.

“I don’t get it. It’s just a guy in a bathtub.” Haeun speaks up, obviously intending to antagonize you. “My friend Jiwon takes better pictures than this and he didn’t even go to college. If that’s what they teach you at school then you’ve wasted your money.”

Oh fuck no. You may be spineless but you won’t allow Haeun of all people to make fun of your work. You prepare to launch into a screaming match with her condescending ass, but before you could even open your mouth to speak, Beomgyu beats you to it. “Your friend Jiwon takes back camera pictures of weird strangers on the street and makes up an exaggerated or completely false backstory about them to try to make the obviously amateur pictures appear more interesting. How fucking original.”

Beomgyu’s quick defense of you makes your heart swell. Some things never change.

“Yeah? Like this is original!” She sputters indignantly.

“I know it’s nothing groundbreaking.” You interrupt their quarrel, “Like a guy in a tub staring longingly at the camera isn’t something that hasn’t exactly been done before but… umm, it’s actually inspired by your song. The colored water is supposed to represent love, you know the “I’m drowning in you” part? It’s killing him but he can’t get himself to get out. He wants to drown in it… I don’t know it may be stupid but I hope you don’t mind.”

"Oh. No, I'm… flattered." He trails off, staring at you wide-eyed. “I didn’t think I would be able to inspire you again…”

“Yeah, well...” You mumble bashfully, a charged moment passes over you as you stare silently at each other.

"Are you done?" Haeun complains, and for once you’re thankful to her for cutting the strange moment. "I'm bored. Let's go."

“We haven’t even eaten anything yet. Take a look at the menus and order something for us, won’t you?” He asks her, but doesn’t even wait for her response before turning back to you. "You know what would be hilarious. If you get the editor to let you do a shoot with the plastic watermelon dress you made."

“It’s not plastic.” You roll your eyes at him, knowing exactly which dress he’s referring to. “It’s coral organza.”

“Looked like plastic to me.” He shrugs with a mischievous grin on his face.

“That’s because you're fashion illiterate.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m very fashion forward and hip.” He proclaims, sounding decidedly NOT neither fashion forward nor hip.

“Yes, because a punk guitarist wearing ratty shirts and ripped jeans is so revolutionary.” You drawl teasingly and he pouts, pulling at his shirt. “Hey! You were there when I picked these out. You said I looked cool.”

“Yeah, she’ll say you look cool wearing a garbage bag.” Yeonjun scoffs and you blush, realizing that you’ve completely neglected Yeonjun as soon as Beomgyu got here. You move back from your huddled forward stance to lean against your boyfriend.

“What?” Beomgyu asks and you quickly brush Yeonjun’s comment off. “Nothing. Now Yeonjun is very stylish. He knows all the trends and he knows how to make them work for him.”

Beomgyu snorts, glancing at your hand that is caressing Yeonjun’s chest. “I don’t follow trends. I make trends.”

“That’s right, baby. You’re a trendsetter.” Haeun coos, getting her hands on him too, touching him much more inappropriately than you were touching Yeonjun.

But Beomgyu ignores her once again, asking you, "How did you even reach the editor of Elements?"

"Oh, Yeonjun knew her." Your hand falls down to wrap around Yeonjun’s, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Of course, Yeonjun knows the editor." For some reason that piece of information really seemed to annoy Beomgyu. But you ignore his unnecessarily snarky tone and turn to smile at Yeonjun, hoping he’d forgive you for your earlier mishap. “Yeah, he’s amazing, isn’t he?”

"Yes, he’s great.” Beomgyu mutters, standing up. “I think me and Haeun have stuff to do. Let’s go, baby."

"Yes!" She claps happily, standing up too.

"Oh, okay. Bye, I guess." You mumble, watching them abruptly scurry off as you try to process the weird interaction. "What's wrong with him?"

“Maybe he’s just being his usual weird self.” Yeonjun shrugs, removing his hand from yours, making you frown. "Or maybe he feels inadequate because I was able to get you the job and he couldn't."

"That's ridiculous." Why would Beomgyu feel inadequate about that? He doesn’t have any obligation to get you work.

"Is it? If I was in love with a girl and another guy gave her what I couldn't. I would be pretty bummed out too."

"What?" The world suddenly screeches to a halt, as does Yeonjun. He looks at you, slowly contemplating something as if he doesn’t know that the world has stopped and is waiting on him.

Finally, he sighs. "I tried to ignore it. Partly because the idiot is trying to hide it and partly because I like you, but ever since we got together, it's been pretty damn hard to ignore. Beomgyu is clearly in love with you.”

"No. You’re getting it wrong.” You shake your head, hoping to get rid of the cotton that has replaced your brain, your thoughts feeling fuzzy and slow as they travel through it. “He's just upset because he thinks us dating will drive me and him apart… which I guess has been true."

"No, he's upset because he wants to be with you and it's killing him to see us together.” Yeonjun clarifies, irritated at having to explain to you how some other guy is in love with you.

"How can you be so sure? Did he tell you that?"

"He doesn't have to tell me. I have eyes…" He looks you up and down. "And well, I'm not stupid like you two."

"That's ridiculous." You denounce once more.

"You said that already."

"Well, it is! Beomgyu doesn’t love me. I mean as a friend, sure but not… like that."

"Oh my god, I'm dealing with two idiots. I don’t even know why the fuck I’m explaining this to you but here goes,” Yeonjun exclaims in frustration, obviously not enjoying this conversation any more than you are. “Think about it, no guy gets this worked up over just a fuck. His first explanation of his anger being just because he’s afraid our relationship is going to ruin the band was total bullshit. It was just to throw you off his scent and have a way to get you to stay away from me without revealing anything. And his second explanation is even more bullshit. Why the fuck would us being in a relationship make you lose him as a friend if he didn’t hold anything but platonic love for you? Why does he get mad every time you and I take a step forward in our relationship? Because he’s fucking in love with you. He literally wrote a whole song about how he’s secretly in love with you and it’s killing him that you’re not his!"

“That song was about me?” You ask and he gives you a look as if to say he can’t believe a single human being can be this dumb. “No, it’s obviously about the girl he’s been ignoring the entire time he was sat with us just so he could talk to you.”

Your mouth opens slowly, tongue dry as it forms the words. "Let’s say he does love me. Why wouldn't he just tell me?"

"Why wouldn't you just tell him?"

You sputter uselessly for a while, not really saying anything. Until you give up and just stop, submerging the both of you in a suffocating silence. You’d think that your thoughts would be racing a million miles an hour right now, trying to process all this information, but nothing is going through your head except one question.

Beomgyu loves me? Beomgyu loves me? Beomgyu loves me?

You’re only taken out of your looping thought when Yeonjun sighs again. "Well, this was fun while it lasted."

"What?" Your mouth hangs open, your frozen brain somehow still having enough power to be shocked.

"You're obviously still completely in love with him. When he's there it's like you don't even see me. You don't see anyone else." Yeonjun says defeatedly.

"No, I–" You try to deny, but he gives you a pointed look, daring you to lie to him.

“Okay, I love him but I’m with you.”

“Only to get over him.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No. My feelings for you are real. Don’t you dare deny that.”

“Maybe, but they’re not as strong as your feelings for him.”

“But they can be.” You insist–trying to convince yourself or him, you don’t know. Maybe if you give me the chance to–”

“To what? Wait and see if you’ll finally look for me first when you walk into a room instead of him? Pretend that I don’t know that time and distance haven’t dulled your love for him one bit? I can’t go on in a relationship where I know my partner will always be thinking ‘what if’. I won’t let myself be hurt like that by you. Not anymore.”

You tear up. You were hurting him? You didn't even think he cared all that much. You must be a terrible judge of character to be getting both boys so wrong. “I’m sorry, Yeonjun. I never meant to hurt you. I really, really tried.”

You really did. You didn’t do this just to get over Beomgyu. Yes, it was part of it, but you liked him too. You really thought this could work, and you really think it would have if Beomgyu wasn’t in the picture, and so you did everything in your power to take him out of it. You moved out from your apartment. You cut Beomgyu off. You dedicated yourself to Yeonjun.

But how can you stop your heart from beating for Beomgyu? It’s entirely out of your control.

"But you did anyway.” He says and you wince, one tear escaping your lashes and falling down the left side of your face. “Do you hate me?”

“I could never hate you.” He sighs, and your lips tremble as you confess, “I wish you would. It might make me feel better.”

“Maybe you don’t deserve to feel better.” His words pierce your heart, and you know you deserve every ounce of pain it inflicts.

“That’s fair.”

You’re both silent for a long while–you trying to keep your tears under control, not wishing for him to see it as any intention to garner sympathy or guilt from him, and him sitting there quietly, his thoughts entirely hidden from you, but you know there is pain and anger in him. You can feel it radiating off of him.

But eventually your tears dry out, and you gather enough courage to ask one last thing of him. “I know I have no right to ask this but can you not tell Beomgyu about us breaking up? I don’t want him to know yet. But don’t worry, I’ll gather my things and move out. You won’t have to live with me.”

"You're not done playing games?" He frowns and you shake your head. "I'm not. It’s just because you guys are working out that record deal and if anything goes wrong, I don’t want to risk ruining things for you.”

“Fine.” Yeonjun graciously accepts. “And you can stay. I’m not gonna kick you out into the street. I’m not that kinda guy.”

____________________

Despite your love for Beomgyu, your break-up with Yeonjun wasn’t easy. You really liked him and had grown attached to him. And even though you still lived together, you hardly talked when it was just the two of you alone. You realize with time just how hurt he is by everything even though he tries his best to hide it from the others–not just because they think you’re still together, but because he has always refused to burden his younger members with his troubles, ever the selfless older brother. It’s one of the qualities you both admired and despised about him simultaneously. You wanted him to share his fears and worries, to lighten the load on his shoulders, and for a short while you were able to do that for him, but now that you’ve broken up, he’s left to carry all of it by himself again and with heartbreak to boot.

You feel incredibly guilty about it, and you mourn for the love that could’ve blossomed between you had you not been so hung up about your best friend. The best friend you still haven’t talked to by the way.

Yeonjun's words have not left your mind since the day he revealed everything to you. No moment passes by when you don't think about them. But you haven’t confronted Beomgyu about it yet because the record deal was still underway, and because you weren’t sure if Yeonjun is even right about it all. What if he’s wrong?

Yeah, what? You'll ruin your friendship with Beomgyu? It's already in shambles anyway. Still, the rejection will be brutal. You've lived in the shadows for years. You're used to ignoring your feelings, that kind of pain is familiar to you now, but if you reveal them to Beomgyu and he shoots you down, you might not bear it.

You'll tell him soon enough though, after the party tonight. The boys have finally reached an agreement with the record company and the contract has come through. They're officially signed to a label now and tonight’s party is a small celebration of that.

You’ll do it after the party tonight. You’ll ask to talk to him after everyone leaves and you’ll confess everything. You're ready to come clean and end it all. Well, as ready as you can be.

But as the party drags on, you get restless, and when you spot Beomgyu alone, refilling his drink, you can’t help but steal a little moment with him.

“Congratulations, Beommie. I hear your song sealed the deal.” You smile widely, your lips buzzing with the desire to tell him what you really want to say–that you love him, that you’re proud of him, and that if his song is really about you then he needs to know that you’ve always been his.

“Yeah. I’m not so useless after all.” Beomgyu’s reply is short and bitter.

“What?”

Yeonjun’s words ring in your ears. If I was in love with a girl and another guy gave her what I couldn't. I would be pretty bummed out too. Is this Beomgyu being insecure like Yeonjun said?

But before you can get him to clarify what he means, Haeun comes running over, incapable of leaving him alone for more than a minute. Can you really blame her? If you had him, you would never let him go either.

“Baby, there you are! My star boy.” She throws her arms around him, pulling him into an open mouthed kiss that makes you want to vomit.

You quickly retreat, not having missed the soft-core porn you used to witness while living with Beomgyu. Fucking Yeonjun, is this what he calls Beomgyu being in love with you? You don’t see him pushing her away or anything. He seems pretty happy with the kiss if his tongue in her mouth is any indication.

"Foul." You mutter, swigging your cider, almost choking on it when a voice speaks up next to you. "That can't be good for the heart, huh?"

You look at Yeonjun sheepishly, not sure if you can talk to him about this. After all, you did break up because of your love for the man currently getting his face sucked off by Haeun. So you just settle on mumbling out a weak yeah.

"Well, you know you could always fix it by confronting him about his undying love for you." He tells you and you can’t help but snort, annoyance overcoming your trepidation. "Yeah, right. He's so heartbroken, he's going to drown his sorrows in her pussy."

“He’s just doing this because he thinks we’re still together. If he knows you’re free, I can guarantee you he’ll be dropping her so fast she won’t hit the ground before he’s on his knees for you.”

“How can you be so confident?” You ask and he shrugs. “Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.”

He walks away, leaving you to think over his words. Funny, that’s how you feel about the sight still playing out in front of you, the disgusting view getting burned into your retinas.

Deciding you needed a break, you slip away from the living room, heading towards the bathroom to wash your face off. But on the way there, you pass by your old room, stopping when you see the door slightly cracked open.

Your feet take you inside without you realizing it, compelled by curiosity to see what he’s done with the room in your absence. Has he turned it into a gaming room? Is he using it for storage? Is he letting her use it as her own? Oh, god, you really hope not. Anything but that.

But you’re surprised when you step inside and find it mostly empty except for your old mattress and a few items you must’ve forgotten during your move. A T-shirt here, a sleeping mask there–they were all strewn around on your bed with the odd piece of clothing from Beomgyu himself in the mix.

You step closer, examining the items when something in particular catches your eyes. A flash of pink under a pillow that makes you reach forward to pull it out, realizing just what it was once it’s in your hands–a pair of pink panties. Your pink panties that you’d been missing for a while. Why does Beomgyu have this? You thought he just used this because he was so pent up he needed any form of release but now Haeun is never off his dick so why does he still do this?

Could Yeonjun have been right all along?

As you continue to hold it in your hands, puzzling over it, you hear the door open and close behind you and Beomgyu’s panicky voice calling out your name.

"What are you doing in here?" He squeaks as if this wasn’t your room. Well, your old room but still. It’s not like he made any changes to it yet.

You turn to face him with the panties in your hands, silent, and his eyes grow wide as he stammers, trying to explain himself. “These are old.”

“They’re wet.” You say plainly, which means he has just used them, and he knows it too.

He scoffs, attempting to appear unaffected. As if this is just a completely reasonable situation that you’ve blown way out of proportion. “Well–it’s just–they were on hand.” He gives you what may possibly be the flimsiest excuse in history.

Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.

"Did you leave these out for me to see?" You question, and he rushes to deny. "No! I just forgot to put them away."

His eyes widen again at what he just said, basically admitting that he took them from you on purpose to do with them exactly what you had in mind. God, he's such a stupid loser.

You walk towards him until you’re standing right in front of him, leaving him no room to breathe. “Make everyone leave.”

“It’s our celebratory party, I can’t just–”

You grab his hand and put it under your skirt, pressing his fingers against your warm pussy. “And I want to give you your reward. Make them leave.”

He looks at you, shocked, and suddenly you realize what you're asking of him. You're coming onto him after weeks of ignoring him. You're asking him to have sex with you when he has a girlfriend–when he thinks you have a boyfriend. Oh god.

But then he gulps and says. "Okay."

You watch from behind the door as he stops the music and kicks everyone out, telling them that he doesn’t feel good and needs to rest, and when Kai complains loudly, he asks him if he’d like to stay back and hold his hair while he vomits. That quickly convinces everyone to take the party elsewhere, even his girlfriend. But one person knows better, and you see him peeking around Beomgyu to catch your hidden eyes. You share a look before he turns around and leaves the apartment. This is it. You’re going to do this.

As soon as Beomgyu comes back, you pull him into a kiss, releasing your overflowing nerves with each frustrated and needy moan you let out against his lips. Fuck, you missed kissing him so much. His lips may not be as soft as Yeonjun’s–he may not be as good of a kisser–but god does he still make your heart sing.

“Strip.” You order when you finally tear yourself away from him, though Beomgyu doesn’t make it easy, resisting you the first couple of times you try and pulling you right back into the hungry kiss. But you finally do, and Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate to follow your cue then.

After he’s all stripped down, he looks at you, gaze speaking of his own need to devour you. “Will you strip too?”

“Do you want it?” You ask, putting on an alluring voice but deep down you were just nervous about letting him see you fully for the first time. Even though your experience with Yeonjun has made you gain confidence, you’re still insecure, especially when it comes to Beomgyu. You want to impress him. You want him to think you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. You want him to forget about her. You want him to only think of you.

Naturally, that is a lot to live up too.

Beomgyu nods enthusiastically, somehow managing to come across as adorable in this situation. “Yes, please. Take it all off.”

He tries to reach out to do it himself but you shake your head, pushing him onto the bed.

“No. We do this my way.” You tell him, and he nods again, keeping himself in check.

You reach for the zipper on your dress, hesitantly letting it fall to the floor. You aren’t wearing any bra so now you are almost nude except for your panties as you stand in front of him.

“Fuck. You’re so hot.” He takes his cock into his hand, pumping it as he leers at you. You should feel dirty having him openly masturbate to the sight of you but it makes you feel so fucking good about yourself. It’s just what you needed–for him to show you how much he wants you. “Please, take off your panties too. Wanna see your pussy.”

Despite his lewd display–or more accurately because of it–you’re given the courage to finally fully undress yourself in front of him, overcoming years of insecurities of what he’ll think of your body and any unfavorable comparisons he might make.

“Oh fuck–” He licks his lips, squeezing his cock as he stares at your pussy. “You’re perfect.”

“You think so?” You ask demurely, trying to hide your shock. Is he really telling the truth? It feels like it but you still need confirmation after years of doubting yourself.

“God, yes. Your tits are divine. I wanna suck on them and play with them all night. Your little pussy is so pretty, I wanna be buried in it forever. Come here, please, ride me, sit on my face, anything…”

Is this what you were worried about all these years? He looks pretty fucking happy with what he’s seeing. Why were you so scared? You’re so mad at yourself for wasting all this time with self-doubt when you could’ve had him long ago.

“You really need that?” You throw your panties at him, feeling more confident than ever after his proclamations. “Isn't this usually enough for you?”

“No, please, you said you’d give me a reward." He whines, distraught at the thought of you being so close but not attainable yet again. "I’ve been good.”

“Have you?” You scoff, straddling him, pressing your pussy against his cock and his body goes limp, letting you do what you want. “You’ve been nothing but a horndog, getting your rocks off wherever you can, whether it’s backstage getting sucked off by her or stealing my panties and fisting your cock with them. You’ve been such a bad boy.”

“I’m sorry.” He slurs, mouth hanging open.

"Are you? You seem to be enjoying this."

"I'm sorry." He repeats again, staring at your pussy as it moves forwards and backwards over his cock, covering it in your slick.

"You're fucking hopeless, Beomgyu. You'd do anything to get a piece of me, huh?"

"Yes." He nods eagerly, "Can you sit on my face?"

You laugh, climbing up his body until you’re hovering over his face and digging your fingers in his hair to keep his head down so he wouldn’t make any unwanted moves before you’re ready. "Is my pussy the only thing on your empty brain?"

"Uh-huh." He says dumbly, almost going cross eyes with the way he's staring at your pussy. You fucking love it. This is what you needed–to be needed. And Beomgyu gives it all to you without you even asking for it.

"Good boy." You tell him and he shoots you a searing look at that–at you finally calling him that again–before you sit down on his face.

You try not to put too much weight on him, not wanting to hurt him but Beomgyu has other ideas. He grabs your ass and pulls you down on his ready mouth, tongue flicking out to give eager licks to your already wet pussy.

"Bad–bad boy–" You hiss, pulling at his hair but he won't let go, too intent on eating you out, nuzzling his whole lower face into your pussy, his tongue and lips alternating between long messy licks and needy sucking motions, his nose brushing against your clit every now and then in his fervor.

"Fuck, Beomgyu slow down."

But that word isn't in Beomgyu's dictionary, not when he's wanted this for so long. His fingers dig into your ass, making sure you can’t escape as his tongue presses inside your hole, flicking around as much as he can while your pussy flutters around it.

"So good–tastes so good." He slurs, drool and your juices covering his lower face but he doesn’t even care. In fact if anything it turns him on if his hard, leaking cock that you see when you throw a glance backwards is anything to go by.

"You fucking the air, Beommie?" You pant, not faring much better than him but needing to tease him anyway. "Need my pussy this bad?"

But Beomgyu can't be teased. Not when he's so shameless.

"Yes. Will you sit on my cock?"

"How bad do you need it?" You sit up, pulling away from him and cutting off strings of your combined need.

"So bad. Feels like I might die without it."

"You sound like a horny fuckboy, Beommie. You know I only like good boys." You chastise, and Beomgyu shoots back, "Is that why you’re dating a whore?"

You growl, sinking back on his face, this time not caring so much about your weight over him. "Don't talk about Yeonjun like that."

He turns his face to the side to nip at your thigh in protest so you just straighten his head again and sit down on him fully, not allowing him any space to move. "You know the only whore here is you. So stick your tongue out like a good whore and let me ride it or I'll leave your dirty cock all red and weeping."

He whines in fear, sticking his tongue out for you, not daring to risk it. You move yourself over him, grinding your pussy over his tongue as he stares up at you pleadingly.

“You like it, baby? You like me using you to get off?”

He moans out in response, not having any other way to communicate his agreement and not willing to pull away from you. But you hear a wet noise coming from behind you and you look back to see him fisting his cock, clearly excited by it all. He wants this as much as you do. He has been begging for it for so long, and so you’re not so cruel as to make him take his hand away, but you need to make sure your excitement doesn’t end too soon.

“Fuck, you really wanted this, huh? Can’t help yourself whenever you get a taste of this pussy?” You tease, and he whines again, his cock thrusting into his own fist pitifully. “But don’t get too excited. You want to feel this pussy around you, don’t you?”

The needy noises he keeps letting out vibrate against your pussy, driving you even wilder as you pull on his hair harshly and desperately grind yourself on his tongue, your high so close you could taste it.

“Good boy, gonna make me cum… you want it? Want me to cum all of that pretty face?” You growl, and his hands leave his cock to grab your ass, pressing you so tightly against him, you worry that he won’t be able to breathe.

But Beomgyu clearly loves it. He wants you to do it. He moves your hips so you’re fucking his face harder, faster, all while those slutty eyes of his never leave your face.

“I’m cumming–fuck, Beommie… good boy–” You scream, shuddering as you cum over him. But as you stop moving, paralyzed by the intense orgasm, he starts moving his tongue, lapping up every drop you let out, giving your pussy open mouthed filthy kisses as he wraps his lips around you and eagerly sticks his tongue into your hole to get even more.

You have to pull away from him when it becomes too much, and Beomgyu chases after you, not having had his fill yet somehow. He's still so needy that he ends up pushing you down and laying over you, his lips incessant against yours as his cock lays heavy on your pussy.

You tug on his hair, finally detaching his lips from yours. "That's enough, Beomgyu."

“I made you cum.” He says in a daze, a stupid smile on his face.

“Yes, you did.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb before sticking it in his mouth, letting him suck on it. It’s useless of course. The entire bottom half of his face was glistening with your cum. Not that you were actually trying to clean him up. You liked seeing him covered in you too much. “Ready for your reward, baby?”

“Fuck, yes, please.” He groans, his hips bucking up against you, gliding his cock against your wet pussy. "Wanna fuck you so bad. Can I put it in now?"

"Are you gonna keep being a good boy for me? Gonna listen to my instructions and not let your cock take over your dumb brain and make you hump me like a dog?"

He shakes his head even though he was literally humping you right now. "I'll listen. I'll be so good."

"Okay, Beommie. You can put it in–slowly!"

He rushes to push his cock inside your pussy, only stopping when it's all the way inside you. "Oh god–I'm finally inside you. Wanted it for so long."

This is exactly what you had been missing. This is what you needed that Yeonjun wasn't able to give to you. Beomgyu isn't shy when expressing how much he wants you. He'll beg and plead until you give it to him.

"Can I move, baby?" He asks, voice strained with the effort of holding back.

You nod. "Go ahead. But slowly."

He makes a valiant effort, pulling his hips back and thrusting in slowly, shuddering every time his cock is fully enveloped by your pussy.

“Good?" You ask as if his mouth wasn't hung open, as if his eyes weren't all hazy, as if he wasn't holding onto you for dear life.

"So good. Can't believe I'm fucking you."

Neither can you. You had really begun to lose hope but here you are, laid on your back with Beomgyu fucking you, following your instruction as best he could–the strain of it obvious on his face. It's everything you wanted and you finally have it.

"Can I touch your tits?" He pleads, giving you his classic puppy eyes and you smile. "Go ahead, honey."

He groans, reaching out and cupping them in his hands. "Oh god. Missed them." He leans down and attaches his lips to them, biting and kissing all over them as his hips pick up speed.

"Beomgyu…" You warn, pulling on his hair. He fights against you, looking up but not detaching from your tits. "Don't get ahead of yourself now. You want me to feel good too, don't you?"

He nods, his face still firmly buried in your lips but finally letting go of your nipple to moan out, "Yes, wanna make you feel better than anyone else."

His own words rile him up and he bites down on the skin next to your areola, making sure not to hurt you but still expressing his frustration.

"You're such a bratty baby." You scold him, but in reality you love it. You love how possessive and needy he is acting. It doesn't allow a single negative or insecure thought to enter your mind. How could it when he's so obvious about his need for you? "You can go faster now, baby."

"Oh, thank you." He groans, hips picking up speed.

"Better, honey?" You pant, brushing his wet hair out of his face so you can fully see how lost he is in the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him.

"So much better. Never wanna stop." He leans down, kissing you harshly, lips opening and closing around yours, his tongue pressing into your mouth hungrily. His hands grab at your thighs, pushing them against your body as he goes even faster, a constant stream of whines and whimpers released into your mouth.

You force yourself to sober up despite the smoldering fire breaking out in your body from the way he's fucking you so good. You want him to keep going. You want him to keep fucking you until your mind has turned to mush and your limbs have turned to jelly. But you can’t let him have it this easily. You can't let him get away with the amount of pain and suffering he has caused you. He needs to feel it too, even if just a fraction of it. He needs to feel the longing and despair he has made you feel for so long.

"Slow down." You order, pulling his head away from you, doing it extra mean just the way he likes it.

"No, no, please." He cries, not slowing down. "Please… I thought this was a reward. You’re driving me crazy."

"Do you want me to push you down and tie your hand to the headboard to make sure you behave?" You threaten, trying to keep your voice under control against the incessant thrusts of his cock into your poor pussy. "It's only gonna be worse for you."

"No. No. Wanna keep touching you." He blabbers, hands groping at every inch of you he could reach, worried you'd make good on your threats.

"Then be good." You suck in a sharp breath as he pulls on your nipples before kneading the soft flesh.

"I will. I'm your good boy, right?" He slurs, his hips slowing down.

Damn, he's really addicted to hearing you say that, huh?

"Yes, you are. You’re my best boy." You coo, stroking his soft hair and he nuzzles into your hand like a puppy, seeking any form of contact with you.

"Thank you." He groans, fingers digging into your skin as he tries to hold himself back, his poor cock screaming at him to just take you like he wants. "So pretty. Look so pretty getting fucked."

"Yeah? Is it how you imagined it when you'd fuck my panties?" You ask but once again Beomgyu has no shame, his hips faltering at the reminder of his debauched actions.

"Better. So pretty. So tight. Could stay in your cunt forever." He almost drools at the thought, and you really believe he'd love to do just that.

"Dirty boy. Dirty little boy going all dumb for me." You stroke his face lovingly and he peers at you with pleading eyes. "Baby, please, hurts… can I go faster?"

"Aw, poor pup, do you need to hammer your cock into my pussy that bad?" You scold, giving his face light slaps.

"Uh-huh… will make you feel good. I promise." He babbles, his hips already going faster as if he's sure you'll give him permission.

"No." This may or may not be the one and only time you get to fuck him. You need to savor it. "Slow down."

Your hands go to his hips, clawing at his skin to slow down his thrusts and he relents, albeit begrudgingly. "You're so mean."

"But you love it." You laugh at his tearful pout. "God, you love it so much you can't stop shaking your hips like a whore. It's like you've never been fucked before.”

"I haven't. You’re my first.” He admits, knocking any remaining breath out of your lungs.

This is his first time. He and Haeun never did it? What the fuck?

"Did you let him fuck you?" He asks, and you stay silent. He knows you’ve fucked Yeonjun. There is no way he thinks you live with Yeonjun and aren’t fucking him. But then again, he hasn’t fucked Haeun, and you were so sure that he did.

"Did you?" He asks again, an edge to his voice and you nod minutely. "I didn't know. I thought you and Haeun–"

Beomgyu's whole face changes. "God, you're such a slut. Fucking two men at the same time."

You immediately get defensive. Yeonjun was your boyfriend. You had dated for months. You’re not a whore for fucking him. It would be more understandable if he’s referring to the fact (or what he thinks is a fact) of you fucking him when you have a boyfriend, but you’re almost certain that’s not what he’s upset about. He’s just jealous you’ve fucked Yeonjun at all. "Just because she won't let you put it in, doesn't make me a slut."

That just angers him more, and he practically bends you in half as his dick pumps in and out of you at a brutal pace, his anger at what you’ve done making him lose it, not caring about your instructions anymore. "I hate you."

You laugh, fighting hard to hide the pain his statement elicits in your gut as well as to keep your voice steady as he practically plows his cock into you. God, he makes you so mad but he’s fucking you so good.

"But you sure love my pussy."

"My pussy." He growls, catching you off guard once again. He bends his head down to kiss your neck harshly, and can already feel the marks blooming there under his teeth. "Mine. Not his. All mine."

"What?” You sputter. Is this it? Is this how he confesses to you? “Beomgyu, what–”

"Shut up." He smacks your ass, not willing to hear your protests right now. "You've played with me long enough. Now be good and take it."

Played with him? What the hell is he talking about? You’ve never played with him. But any attempt to get a sane answer out of him right now is useless as the sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the room and Beomgyu latches his mouth onto yours, trying to dominate you in a way he has never attempted to do before–as if he’s trying to prove that you really are his.

And you are. He may not know it but you’ve always been his.

But his strong facade is paper-thin and you can see right through it to the insecure boy below when he pulls back to look at you. “Fuck, why did you have to be so pretty?”

“Make me cum, Beommie.” You murmur, moving a hand between your bodies to rest over your pussy, your middle and index fingers on either side of his cock as it fucks into you. “Do you feel how wet I am for you? I’m soaking the bed, baby.”

“Fuck…” He pulls your hand away, taking a look at how wet it has become already before he grunts and pushes one of your thighs against the bed to allow space for his own hand between your bodies, quickly finding your pussy to rub your clit.

“Oh… oh, fuck… baby…” You gasp, back arching as you’re quickly hurled towards your orgasm. “That’s it, honey. Make me cum on your big cock.”

He groans, his hips stuttering as your pussy begins to clench around him. “Don’t talk like that. Gonna make me lose it.”

“It riles you up when I talk dirty to you? Tell you how good you're fucking me?”

He nods.

“Dirty boy.” You moan out for him, “Do it. Empty that cock inside me. Want my pussy dripping with you.”

“Holy s-shit,” Beomgyu cries, and you feel his cum shooting inside of you, his hips not stopping for a second. And though his thrusts become erratic, his thumb keeps up its assault on your clit until your pussy is clamping down on his cock and milking the last drops of cum from him. “Good girl. My good girl.”

He fucks you through your orgasm, babbling on about how pretty you are and how well you took it. He looks so fucking pathetic with his shiny eyes and needy whimpers that before you even know it, he’s ripping another orgasm out of your already fucked out body.

“Goddammit, Beomgyu…” You squeal, toes curling at the very intense second orgasm, your body shuddering with the unexpected sharp waves of pleasure racking through it. And through it all, Beomgyu continues fucking you. You can feel his cock begin to harden once again inside you, and as the brutal second orgasm leaves your body, you wince at the overstimulation, putting your hands against his sweaty chest and starting to push him away.

“That’s enough, Beomgyu. I can’t take any more.”

But he resists you, shaking his head. “One more. Please, one more.”

“No.” You tell him firmly, “Don’t be bad. Pull out.”

He searches your face for any hint of leniency, his big pretty eyes trying to convince you to change your mind but you can’t. He’s fucked you so hard, your poor pussy requires a much needed rest.

You both watch as he slowly pulls out, his once again hard cock glistening with your cum and his, his seed dripping down your ass now that he wasn’t plugging your pussy up.

“Oh, baby, does that hurt?” You coo, grabbing his cock. He lets out a sigh of relief as you begin stroking it. “Yeah. So bad.”

The little shit is milking this, but you play along. “Poor baby. Let me make it go away.” You grin, suddenly speeding up, the slide of your hand so easy when his cock is well-lubricated. You make sure to maintain your position, with him hovering over your splayed open body so he can rake his eyes over it, and you clearly seeing him struggling to choose where to look between your tits that jiggle as you jerk him off quickly, the cum leaking out of your puffy pussy, and your swollen lips as you swipe your tongue over them.

It doesn’t take long for you to have him spilling his seed again, landing on your tummy as he doubles over and buries his head in your neck.

“That’s it, good boy.” You praise him, using your free hand to stroke his long hair that you love so much.

You let him lay there for a whole, catching his breath that is so irregular and stuttered that you almost don’t notice when he starts crying if it wasn’t for the hot tears falling on your skin.

“Beomgyu?” You call out, and a heart-breaking sob breaks out of his chest.

"Please, come back to me." He croaks against your neck.

"What?" You sit up, making him sit up with you and pulling his face away from your shoulder so you can look at him, your heart sinking at the tears streaming down his face. "I can't fucking bear seeing you with him any longer. It hurts so much."

Oh fuck.

"Beomgyu… Yeonjun isn't–" You try to explain that you and Yeonjun had broken up but he cuts you off.

"It's not him, it's you!" He shouts, "I love you and I can't bear it any longer. And I know it's selfish and that you don't love me back, at least not in that way, but then you keep messing with me."

He loves you? He really loves you?

"But I thought you loved Haeun?" You need to know what exactly is happening with him and Haeun first.

"I thought I did too but whenever I'm with her, I find myself thinking of you. You’re always in my head, it ruins every moment I have with her. She hates you too, you know? She can't stand how much I love you. The reason we haven't fucked is not because she won't put out. It's because I only want you. I didn't want to lose it to anyone else but you."

"Beomgyu–"

"But you don’t fucking care. You just see me as your disgusting best friend who you can play with and push away when you're done with him and I can't even bring myself to hate you for it. That's how much I love you. So just please… please give me a break."

“You think I was playing with you?” The idea seems absurd to you. How can he possibly think that? You've done everything in your power to not show how much you love him but never in your wildest dreams would you think that would mean he would see it as you playing with him.

“Weren’t you? I mean the way you spoke to me… you always pushed me away. I had to beg each time for you to even kiss me.” He peers at you, pain and vulnerability shining in his eyes as he recalls the way you treated him.

Fuck, you've been so obsessed with not letting your love for him show that you've done the same thing to him you thought he was doing to you. Knowing that pain all too well, you can’t bear the thought of being the cause of it.

You grab his face in your hands and kiss him, intending to pour out your own feelings the same way he did, hoping to staunch the flood of heartbreak you’re witnessing and calm him down enough for him to realize you feel the same way.

But his reaction wasn't what you expected. He breaks down crying. "You're so cruel."

"No, no! I love you too!" Your hands are in a flurry around his face, wiping his tears, stroking his hair, caressing his cheeks, anything to calm him down.

"What? This is not funny." He sobs, looking like a wounded animal. Your heart aches at the sight.

"No, fuck, I've loved you for years! The whole friends with benefits thing I started was just an excuse to have a way to be with you."

He stares at you in utter shock, the confusion the only thing stopping his tears from drowning you. "But you never even hinted that you liked me. You called me all kinds of names, freak, disgusting, pervert…"

"I thought you liked these..." You trail off sheepishly.

"I did but it still makes a guy think.” He mumbles, his fingers playing with yours nervously. “You wouldn’t let me touch you or kiss you."

"I was afraid if I let you kiss me, I wouldn't want you to stop. And I didn’t want you to touch me because I was afraid you wouldn’t like what you saw." It sounds so silly now that you're saying it out loud–now that you know he loves you and has wanted you just as badly.

"That's stupid. I had already seen it all." He tells you casually and you frown. "When?"

"You don't always shut the door when you're changing." He shrugs.

"Pervert!" You gasp, hitting him with no real power behind it. "What about you? You never hinted at anything either. You only ever talked about my body."

"Well, it did start just physical but I quickly realized that I'm in love with you. Then I kept only mentioning your body because you'd freak out on me whenever I hinted at anything else."

"Fair." You pout, realizing you’ve done as much to hurt yourself as he did.

"I didn't want to let it show that I loved you because I was so afraid you'd pull away like you did a couple of times. And then you were with Yeonjun and it fucking killed me so I had to pretend it was just sexual."

"Oh god, that's exactly what I've been doing.” You cover your face with your hands, mortified at your stupidity. We're fucking dumbasses."

“Yes, we are.” He replies fondly, taking your hands away from your face so you can look at him, refusing to let you hide anymore. "So you'll break up with him and be with me?"

"We broke up a while back.” You admit sheepishly. “He said he can't be with me when you and I are clearly in love with each other."

“So let me get this straight, Yeonjun could tell we love each other but somehow we, the two people involved, didn’t have a clue?” He raises an eyebrow at you and you nod. “I think it’s safe to say we won’t be winning any genius awards anytime soon.”

“We could win the biggest dumbasses award though.” He cracks a smile, pulling you close to him and resting his forehead against yours.

“No one could even compete.” You grin, kissing him. He immediately deepens the kiss, frantic and hungry still.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, Beommie. We have all the time in the world.” You tease as if you weren’t just as needy, making him whine. “I can’t help it. You made me yearn for so long.”

“Yearn? Oh, that’s bad. I made you use the word yearn.”

He yanks your legs up, sending the rest of your body flying backwards and hitting the mattress, your loud giggles quickly covered by his mouth as he kisses you harshly, his teeth biting down on your lips in annoyance when you still don’t stop laughing.

“Stop it.” He whines in defeat as he pulls back, and you try to keep your giggles under control, his pout is entirely too devastating to look at.

"Are you gonna break up with her?" You ask and he doesn't hesitate to say, "Of course."

That makes you smile, happy with how easily he chose you, but then a thought pops into your mind and you frown. "You know, I hated her but I still feel kinda bad for fucking you behind her back." You really do. You've never condoned cheating, even if it was on someone as vile as Haeun.

"Oh you mean the same way she fucked the whole football team?" He counters and you gape at him, "God damn. Why did you even stay with her for that long?"

He shrugs. "Needed a distraction. And to not come across as a loser in front of you. I mean you were with Yeonjun. I couldn't just be alone."

"Oh, honey…" You coo, but anything you planned to say is suddenly forgotten as you feel his cock pressing against your entrance.

"Beommie!" You squeak. “What are you doing?”

"You thought we were done? You spread your legs for my bandmate. I'm gonna have to look at him every day knowing he had you first. I gotta make sure you and everyone else knows who exactly you belong to."

It may not be the most healthy coping mechanism, but you’ll let him have it for now. You’re sure you wouldn't be very happy if you were in his position either. Besides, getting to fuck Beomgyu isn’t exactly what you would consider a punishment.

_________

A/N: Click here for the Yeonjun ending on Patreon.

Also for my patreons, you could suggest a scene from gyu's pov and I'll choose one. There will also most likely be some drabbles about oc and gyu's life after the ending (mostly smut featuring our favorite desperate boy lol) and some will be released on tumblr and others will be exclusive to patreon.

Patreons may also suggest a continuation of a previous fic/drabble. I will do my best to release at least something monthly on there.

Taglist: @blxxsss@sanasour@tinkw1nks@lol6sposts@zuzuhasablog@beomsl@seolis-world@stantxtorurmissingout@wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno@leviathanlee26@yomomas-stuff@kurisaiyunobara@girlwholovekpop@zuzuhasablog@viaaasdiary@ho3forkpop@skzvcr@th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @izzyexe @boomfrogg @kpop-cakepops-recs @chronicallygyu @girlwholovekpop

#txt smut #dom!reader #sub!idol #tomorrow x together smut

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seraphinitegames · 6 months

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The Wayhaven Chronicles - Update 03/Nov/2023

A different and exciting update this week!!

So, a little while ago, I had this idea pop into my head, and I just couldn’t let it go. It built and built until it formed into a full-fledged plan in my head and then on paper. But I didn’t really do much about it because time-constraints, etc.

But with Book Four being quite intense in different ways, the idea I was imagining was much more…fluffy, hehe! Not that Book Four doesn’t have some awesome fun, downtime moments, but this other thought was more of that.

Then one day I mentioned it to Nai, and she absolutely loved it, so then it started to become even more of a plan with her excitement fueling it!

And this week, I began making a real start on it…

I don’t really want to promise anything quite yet—as you can probably guess considering the theme of this project that it’s a bit of a tight schedule if I want to get it out on time—and I would hate to disappoint anyone, but I really am slamming through it already and am ahead of the very strict schedule I have for it!

If it comes together as smoothly as hoped, then it’ll be available for purchase via itch.io for Windows, PC, as we haven’t managed to find anyone who could port it for us yet, but hopefully that might still happen! It’ll also be avaliable for $5+ patrons on Patreon as a free download on Windows, PC!

Next week I will be squeezing in social media days before hammering back through this again!

I realise I’m being super vague about this, but I will be sharing much more as the weeks go on, and it begins coming more to life, but I can give a small hint…

Waiting at The Square, on a Very Chilly Evening.

Christmas in Wayhaven.

It's sparkling, frosted, and magical…quite literally.

Which means the spirit of the season takes on a whole new perspective when you know magic is actually real.

Prepare for something light, fluffy, cosy, and full of festive fun with those Unit Bravo romances… ;D

(This ‘novella/side-story’-type game won’t be considered canon or anything, so you don’t need to play it to enjoy the main series if it’s not something you’re interested in. It’s more just a nice moment between the books to simply indulge much more in the actual romance-side of things, hehe!)

I hope you all have the most amazing weekend! We’ll be offline as usual, so I’ll update again next Friday with more hints about what’s to come…hehehe! ;D

#the wayhaven chronicles #interactive fiction #update #patreon #itch.io

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onlymingyus · 3 months

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Tied to your Body (Patreon Exclusive Teaser)

pairing; kim mingyu x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), fluff (somehow)

warnings; TA!Mingyu, University Student!Reader, Camboy!Mingyu, Professor Joshua Hong (that's a warning), eating/drinking, alcohol, masturbation (m & f), lots of dirty talk, masturbation on stream, pictures taken and sent of dick/pussy, talk of sexual health, aftercare, Dom!Mingyu, sub!reader, Dom/sub dynamics, color system, subspace, dumbification, praise, pet names, degradation, crying, spitting on pussy, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cum eating, some light impact play -- I think that is everything.

w/c; 13.3k and some change (1.4 k this teaser)

a/n; I love camboy love sick Mingyu. thank you to @onlyhuis for betareading this for me! a huge thank you to @onlyseokmins for making the instagram graphics for me! thank you for your patience in waiting for this one. I really needed this break.

this fic is a Patreon Exclusive subscribe to my Patreon and click here

Running the back of your pen along your bottom lip, you sigh, finally leaning back from your desk. You had been looking at the same page of your physics textbook for an hour. It felt like your brain was beginning to feel like jello. A familiar ding from your cellphone made you bite down on the end of your pen as you reached for the phone, the corners of your lips pulling up into a slight smirk.

ariespic_46 is live

You tried not to waste your money. It was hard enough to be a college student and to share an apartment instead of living in a dorm but sometimes spoiling yourself was important. It was hard enough trying to balance a part-time job and a full-time course work schedule; you rarely found time to go to parties and the relationship pool was limited.

You had dated during your time at the university but it had been brief and no one had ever kept your attention for longer than a month. Over time, classes became more important and you found other ways to find pleasure, even if it cost you a few extra bucks a month to indulge in.

Opening your laptop, you find yourself entranced by the man on your screen as he smiles, leaning back in his chair. He never showed anything above his nose. You wished you could see his entire face. With as handsome as he was from the nose down, you were drooling over this camboy almost daily.

As ariespic_46 lets out a breath, you find yourself doing the same as you lay on your side on your bed in the dark. He was dressed in some tan dress pants, a white button up that was already unbuttoned down to the top of his abs, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He looked like a dream. You couldn’t help but look over every detail that you were privy to. He had the cutest freckle on the end of his nose and sharp canines that he bit down into his bottom lip with when he was especially horny, like now.

“Hi pups. I missed you.”

A small squeak slips from your lips when the man finally talks. He was such a tease. He would sometimes just sit there for minutes while the chat went crazy, asking for things, just his biceps flexing as he stretched out his fingers in clear amusement at how needy the chat was.

“Aw, you missed me too, didn’t you? That’s cute.”

The man leans his head back and you try to move your head so you can see more of him but as usual, it's in vain. He had his camera set up for this. He didn’t want his face fully on the screen and while you could respect it, you were still curious.

“It was a long day. You have no idea. I’m all wound up... Having to be this professional in front of others while I think about doing this later. God…” The man grins, his canines on display, as he lifts his hips, undoing his dress pants. “And then the teasing I put up with on a daily fucking basis. I don’t think she even realizes she’s doing it.”

You furrow your brows. He talked about some girl on his streams sometimes. You didn’t mind; no one seemed to. It got him even more excited to think about this girl who teased him during the day. You wondered what it would be like to be her—to be the one on his mind all day and night. The one that made him want to wrap his hand around his thick cock and stroke it until he came so hard. You imagine you are her sometimes; he makes it easy for you to, with how he talks to the stream.

“Wanna put you on your knees in front of me for teasing me like that?"

Watching ariespic_46 closely, your eyes follow as he kicks his pants somewhere off the screen. The man smirked, leaning back in his chair, knowing eyes were on him. He could see the viewer count and it never disappointed him. Your eyes were moving over the bit of his chest that was exposed as his fingers undid the rest of his shirt, leaving him in his dress shirt and briefs as a long, sighing groan slipped from his lips.

“Can’t help but think how pretty you’d look if you were. So fucking pretty every day and acting so innocent like you don’t realize I’m looking at you.”

You sigh, your bottom lip jutting out, as the man talks to the girl through you and the other viewers. You feel a bit of shame as you run your fingers along your stomach and play with the tie of your pajama pants but it’s not enough to stop you.

Glancing at the comments, you can’t help but agree with a few of them, saying they’d never ignore him. You couldn’t imagine ignoring someone like ariespic_46, not on purpose. There was no one who went to your university who came close to looking like him.

When the man wraps his fingers around his cock for the first time, you have to close your eyes to the sound that slips out between his pretty lips. You loved the sounds he made. He never tried to keep them quiet or to himself. He just let them be as erotic as possible and it made you drip around your fingers that were now slowly sliding through your folds.

“Are you being a good girl for me? My pretty little pup? Are you gonna cum for me when I cum tonight?”

Whimpering, you nod even though he can’t see you. You weren’t one who took the time to comment while he touched himself and spoke. You knew he wouldn’t recognize names from chat anyway. He did, however, acknowledge tips and that you did when you let yourself think with your pussy more than your brain.

“Mm, thank you, Nabi.”

Hearing part of your username on ariespic_46’s lips as he moans, pre-cum slipping over his fingers, makes you press your lips together. You hadn’t sent him much—just $30—but for a student, that was more than you should be spending on porn.

Pressing your nose against your arm, you adjust yourself on the bed, watching the man groan louder as he got closer to his climax. You had started to be able to tell when it was going to happen. The way his mouth fell open, the way his groans got more urgent and drawn out, his fingers of his right hand gripping the arm of his chair for dear life as he stroked himself through his climax with his left.

Most nights when you watched his streams, you would end up doing exactly what ariespic_46 wanted and cum soon after he had but other nights, like tonight, you would end up panting as your thighs pressed together out of need. You knew there was always more, even as the man on the screen laughed, stretching his fingers out to show the camera all the cum dripping from him.

"Fuck, that was good. I have to get cleaned up. Bye, baby. See you next time.”

The stream stated it had ended, and you find yourself on your back with your phone in one hand, waiting for what came next. Not only did you tip because it made you feel good to hear even your username on the man’s lips but also for what he would give you. A notification stating you had a direct message from ariespic_46 pop’s up at the top of your screen and you find yourself giggling like a teenager getting a message from a crush.

ariespic_46: have a good night, nabi 🦋 thank you🖤 [picture attached]

Staring at the message for a moment, you bite at your bottom lip before your thumbs move over the keyboard to reply. You knew you didn’t have to, and that he probably didn’t check replies but it felt important to you.

nabi.wings: anytime, thank you for the stream ❣️

Taking a breath, you finally press down on the link for the picture, only to moan at the sight. It was one thing to see his cock and fingers covered in cum on the stream but it was another entirely to see it in a picture like this. Now was when you couldn’t help but let your fingers wander lower. Now you could let yourself let go of any shame you were feeling before and just let yourself pretend for a little while that he had cum this much for just you.

READ THE FULL FIC ON PATREON HERE

#mingyu smut #seventeen smut #svthub #svt smut #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #patreon

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thisismeracing · 5 months

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I'll always take care of you | MS47

― Pairing: Mick Schumacher x reader (she/her) ― Word count: 1.2k ― Warnings: mentions of food and sickness; overall fluff. ― Summary: The flu caught you out of the blue, and completely unprepared, good thing you have your boyfriend around to take care of you. ― A/n: This piece was based on this request. This is a special piece for my mick schumacher sick girlies (gn) club (as many of us were sick this week). I hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know your thoughts by reblogging and/or leaving me an ask (anons are on) *mwah* 🤍

✷ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ✷ you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Mondays are usually good days for you.

Though the week starts on Sundays, for you, they truthfully get going on Mondays. Mondays are when classes and work are back in full swing and when you make a list of everything you need to do for the week. When you are energized to clean your room, and when Mick comes home from races.

This Monday, though, you wake up with a cough, a runny nose, and your head pounding. It’s terrible. It doesn’t take you long to realize that it’s the flu and it’s not going away in time for you to get to work and classes, so you text your supervisor and send an e-mail to your professor, leaving your cell phone back on the nightstand and trying to sleep it off at least a little bit.

It gets worse after five minutes. Your whole body is aching and you wanna cry from stress because why couldn’t it happen any other day? Why today? You shrug the covers off, get Angie some food, get your water bottle, and some painkillers, and go back to bed. This time, the wiggly dog lies on your feet, as if she sensed something was wrong.

That was the first signal for Mick. Every Monday when he comes back from wherever he was in the world, Angie is at the door eager to greet him, but this time the apartment holds a weird silence, and there’s no signal of his dog. You also hadn’t answered his messages earlier this morning, something you would always do because, by the time he got home, you were up and running with your things.

He takes off his shoes, leaves his luggage by the entrance, and makes the short trek to your shared bedroom, a million thoughts going through his head. All of them dissipating when he opens the door and sees your sleeping form along with Angie lying on the bed. His shoulders drop in relief, only to go up again when your body moves on the bed, a nasty cough scratching your throat and making you whimper in pain.

Mick is by your side in a heartbeat.

Angie watched everything attentively as if knowing that he would talk to her soon, that right now her mom needed dad more.

You sit up reaching for the water, and finally notice Mick by your side.

“Babe,” you start but the coughing fits interrupt.

The blonde by your side passes your water bottle while rubbing your back, a worried look on his graceful features, “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick, Schatzi?”

And though there’s no judgment on his tone, you feel like crying, particularly because you’re sick, but also because you feel emotional. Of course, you know that Mick would always take care of you, but going through it was a completely different story, “It started earlier this morning,” you explain, taking a sip of your water again.

“Did you call your boss and your professor? Want me to do it?”

You nodded, then shook your head, “I already did, thanks though.”

“Have you eaten?”

And this time your eyes go to the ground. You know he’s about to huff a worried reply, but you’re too tired to try and explain, so you just lie back and watch as Mick kisses your forehead and starts changing his clothes, putting on his grey sweatpants and white shirt while telling you that you’re burning and he’s going to call the drugstore down the block to drop off some meds.

You hum in agreement. He pets Angie, leaving a kiss on her waiting head, but when he leaves she doesn’t follow, staying planted on the bed with you.

“Angie, sweet angel, you can go with Dad, I know you missed him,” you talk as if she would understand. Angie wiggles her tail, gets up from the bottom of the bed, and lies with her head on your belly.

You smile, caressing her fur, and it's not long before you’re falling asleep again.

You wake up minutes later, with Mick telling you to open your mouth while he’s scooping some kind of medicine in a spoon. You protest but drink it anyway, making faces at how sour it tastes.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Terrible, I can’t breathe through my nose, and I’m cold, but I’m also burning.”

His fingers brush on your cheek, “Yeah, you have a fever, but I just gave you something to get the fever down. I’ll keep putting cold compresses on your forehead, but you can keep napping, okay?”

His soft tone makes your lips turn into a pout, some tears gathering in the corner of your eyes, “Baby, you’re gonna get sick too, no. I can take care of mys–”

Mick shakes his head, “I’m your boyfriend, I’m taking care of you. And besides, I’m an athlete, I won’t get sick that easily.”

Mick could very well be stubborn when he wanted to, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, sighing, “At least put on a mask.”

“Can I get a kiss first?”

You turn your head to him so fast you almost get whiplash, your brows are furrowed and your lips parted, “Are you out of your mind, Schumacher?”

He gifts you with a belly laugh, throwing his head back and showing you the milky skin of his neck. You so wanted to kiss it. And his pink plush lips too. But you couldn’t, and you told him this much.

“Yeah, I was messing with you, princess.”

You huff.

“Now, get comfortable, I’m gonna grab my mask. Your soup is almost ready,” he says, standing up from his sitting position on the bed.

“I’m not hungry,” you whine, lying down and bringing Angie close to you, snuggling on her soft fur.

“You gotta eat to get better soon, Schatzi.”

You mumble something not even you can understand, and Mick chuckles, walking back to the bed and sitting beside you. He brushes your cheek and holds your jaw, holding your eyes to his. You’re sick, you’re tired, and you have a headache pounding on your head nonstop, and a nasty running nose, but those blue orbs staring at you sure made your body tremble, all warm and fuzzy. His head dips and he takes the covers from your legs, just enough so his lips can find your naked thighs. He kisses there, and then your belly, and the inside of your wrist. There’s nothing sexual about it, he’s just kissing what he knows you would classify as a safe spot, far from your coughs, and snout.

Mick misses you though you are in front of each other right now.

And you miss him just as much.

“We went a week away, you really wanna make it more than it needs to be?”

You open your mouth, but then just drop your demeanor, shaking your head.

“Good, because I miss snuggling with you and kissing you, and we won’t be able to do it while you’re sick, right?” You nod. “I wouldn’t mind getting sick for you though.”

“Nope,” you pop the p. “Not happening. You’re sleeping in the guest bedroom until I get better.”

“Then you’re eating and taking all the meds I bring,” there’s a determination in his tone, and you can’t help but nod. “We have a deal?”

You nod reluctantly and shake hands with him. There’s a winning smile on his face, “good, I’m bringing the compresses and the soup.”

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you guys like this piece! Rooting for our mick schumacher sick girlies (gn) club to let all of its members go back to being exclusively from the mick scumacher simp club hihi A huge shout out to my coffee anon for proofreading this piece and suggesting the title (ily, C)!🤍

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @fdl305 @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @leclercsluv @v1naco @callsign-scully @heelariously @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @he6rtshaker @peachiicherries @therealcap @mehrmonga @cixrosie @thatgibbsygirl @the-depressed-fellow @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @skepvids @scopeiguess @nzygftoji @princewis @bbreezybitch

©thisismeracing do not copy, steal, or translate my work. do not repost on a different media platform.

#mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fluff #f1 x reader #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 x you #mick schumacher #ms47 #op: patreon pieces #mick schumacher fanfic #mick schumacher x you #f1 fluff #f1 x you #formula one imagine #formula one x you #mick schumacher x reader

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surely-sims · 5 months

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🦐 The 12 Days of Shrimpmas 2023 Masterpost! 🎄

It's back!! The best fake holiday that's ever graced the Sims Community, sprinkling shrimpy cheer in it's terrible terrible wake. What is Shrimpmas? Shrimpmas is a secular Holiday Event I made up last year when Ice-CreamforBreakfast bugged me to make a Christmas Tree covered in shrimp. BUT be aware not everything on this calendar will be Holiday themed, expect more random pieces- stuff you might find between your CC Couch Cushions, things like that.

So, have you been good this year? - Well then, let's get started.

[ PATREON DOWNLOAD LINK ]

| DAY 1 | DAY 2 | DAY 3 | DAY 4 | DAY 5 | DAY 6 || DAY 7 | DAY 8 | DAY 9 | DAY 10 | DAY 11 | DAY 12 |

🎄 Shrimpmas 2023 is officially over! 🦐

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#shrimpmas 23 #pinned post #we did it boys

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allidoistrytrytryy · 8 months

Text

a moment's silence when my baby puts her mouth on me (cove holden x reader)

ao3 version here

summary: Cove Holden and the black underwear (from Patreon moment 2, if you know you know), except it's his own surprise on a random Friday (smut with feelings)

word count: 3,116 words

tags: smut, porn with feelings, porn without plot, light dom/sub, switching, sexual intimacy, they're in love your honour, author has been feeling insane about cove for years and lately about the black underwear so here we are (female reader implied but i tried to be as non-descriptive as possible, can be a male trans reader too)

You were exhausted, your fingers rubbed at your eyelids and at your forehead, trying to take the headache away.

You had had a large project at your job, long hours, and planning that took too much of your time. You came home late, too late, so late sometimes Cove would already be in bed or asleep on the couch, always waiting for you (even though you had told him to sleep, not to wait up for you if you were too late, but he insisted every time).

You sighed at the thought of your fiancee. You missed him too much, missed being able to have time with him, going out on weekends or lazing around after work to watch a show you would fall asleep through anyway, snuggled in his warmth.

You hadn’t been able to do that in more than two weeks, always working, always in contact with your coworkers to continue the project even deep into the night. You were glad today was the presentation, and then you were taking a few days off, away from everything.

You felt the fear in your gut at the presentation. You were nerves on legs, as you always were when you had to talk in front of an audience. You knew that would never change, the way you spaced out, waiting and waiting, at your desk.

Your phone buzzed on your desk, which took you out of your thoughts and the ball in your stomach. A smile crept up on your face before you even had the time to read what the text said, at the name appearing on your screen.

Cove.

Romeo: You have this, show them what you’re made of. Love you. <3

You smiled hard, your finger rubbing at the heart emoji with the text, at the picture you had set as his picture on your phone. A picture of him asleep on your couch, snuggled under a blanket, his long hair freed from its usual low bun.

You hadn’t been able to resist the urge to take a picture, and your fingers had gone through his hair.

You sent him a heart back, now fired back up. You could do this, go home and kiss your fiancee senselessly until you fell asleep snuggled into his warmth.

And the presentation happened. It went well, and you shared smiles and compliments with your colleagues. Sighs of relief. You could all go home peacefully tonight.

Which you did. You sprinted to your car when the hour came, your colleagues’ laughter following you down the elevator. They all knew you were eager to be home again, to be with the fiancee you talked about too much. (You couldn’t help it. You loved Cove Holden too much, loved him since you were eight. What could you do?)

The drive went quickly and you arrived at your little place a bit further from the city in record time. When you parked in your spot, next to Cove’s car who was already there and home, you realized you had forgotten to send him a text. You bit your lip, hoping he hadn’t waited for it.

Five unread texts with Cove inquiring about the presentation, worried. Shit.

You climbed the stairs of the apartment complex quickly, your keys already in hand. You entered.

”I’m home! Sorry, I completely forgot to answer your texts, I’m so so...” You interrupted yourself by the sight of your living room, your coffee table with a range of plates and food, and even a cake.

Hands sneaked around your waist, a kiss on your hair, a chest against your back. Your fiancee enveloped you, mint, citrus and this particular ocean smell in your nose and you finally relaxed. “Hi sweetheart, how was it?” he asked gently.

You turned around in his arms and, as always, you had to crane your neck to look up into his eyes. You hadn't been fortunate with height while Cove had had too much of it over the years. His arms circled your waist. “Went smoothly, we can finally breathe now,” you answered and got on your tiptoes to kiss him quickly, which he answered with that giddy smile he never lost around you. “Now, what’s all of this, Covie?”

”Well, I knew it would go perfectly since it’s you,” you rolled your eyes at the remark but the smile betrayed you, the blush even more. “and wanted to celebrate it. I got your favorite things from your favorite places and got a cake.”

Cove looked like it wasn’t even an effort, and it wasn’t in your relationship. You both made so much effort, so much again and again for each other that it was just normal. But, it didn't change the fact that you were always touched by every gesture.

You still couldn’t phantom how dear you were to this man sometimes. You still couldn’t understand how your heart never seemed to stop expanding for him, taking in every piece, every detail, every word and action from him.

Your hands dragged his face to you, to kiss him deeply, like you had wanted to since you had finished the project. He sighed against your lips, that content sigh, his lips and tongue entangled with yours. An intimacy you could never get enough of.

”I love you so much,” you whispered against his lips and his eyes misted over, your crybaby, always yours.

”I love you too,” he whispered as if he didn’t want to break the calm of the moment, wanted to stay in this moment suspended in time.

Until you dragged him to the couch to drape yourself over him, eating and barely paying attention to whatever was on the TV as background noise. You talked about the project. He talked about his day and his own job.

When you finished, he pushed you to the bathroom. “Go take a bath, relax, I got the dishes,” Cove reassured and you pouted.

”But, I can help, I didn’t get dinner so it should be me,” you whined in his shoulder and he laughed while pushing in the bathroom while you couldn’t do anything.

”No way. Go, now,” he kissed your cheek and you still pouted as you got into the bathroom.

You did well on what he had told you to do, spending too much time in a hot bath until it got cold, your body wrapped in your comfortable fuzzy robe. You finally stepped out to get to the bedroom, itching to put your pajamas on, and fall asleep next to Cove.

The too-large shirt was in your hands, actually just one of Cove’s shirts you had stolen and never returned, as you did since you were teenagers, even before you were officially truly together. You hadn’t realized why the light was so dim, hadn't realized Cove was on the bed.

You turned your head slowly and you felt your knees wobble, felt your eyes widen until they almost popped out of your skull.

You had seen Cove in all types of clothes and nakedness over the years. You knew him and his body by heart, the moles, the sleeve on his right arm that you loved to kiss all over, the dips, and where the redness would creep. But right now? You were speechless.

Cove fucking Holden was sat against the headboard, half-lidded eyes on you, but you could see the blush high on his face and ears and down his neck. He was naked, well, except for the underwear but it was the underwear that made you want to scream.

It was black but it barely hid anything, the green happy trail visible from that delicious V-shape you liked to bite, down a dangerous low dip. Straps followed his hips and they showed his hipbones. You almost wanted to ask him to get up and show the back, to see how it looked over that ass you loved too much.

”Surprise,” he simply said, wanting to sound sultry but ending up at excited, embarrassed, waiting.

The shirt slipped through your fingers, forgotten on the floor, and you were still speechless. “What...are you...” you swallowed hard, heat at the back of your neck, on your ears.

Large shoulders were shrugged and he tilted his head, “I… we talked about how I wanted to try some...lingerie out and I thought it would be a good idea for a celebration.”

He was still waiting and you could see how waiting affected him, the redness ever more present on his face and down his neck, the quick jostle of his knee. You approached the bed slowly, eyes laser-focused on him.

You could feel a restraint slowly unfurling in your gut, a wait. You had missed Cove and his hands on you, you had missed the everyday intimacy but you had also missed the sexual intimacy you shared. You both couldn’t have enough of each other sometimes, a pull between your hearts and your bodies.

Your hands settled on the edge of the bed, and you crawled slowly to him, putting up a show for his eyes and his eyes only. The robe dipped down and he gulped, his eyes on your cleavage, on your bare chest visible underneath. You smirked, finding a place between his legs, hands on his thighs, so so close to the dangerous piece of underwear that threatened your composure.

”So, you decided to gift my eyes with this, baby?” you whispered, a finger playing with a strap at his hip. “You’re way too good for me.”

Cove gulped again and you wanted to bite at his Adam’s apple, leaving marks on his pale skin until everybody would know. He shook his head.

”What? You don't agree that you’re too good for me?” you asked, a little pout at the words, your eyes on his face. You were playing the game of how sultry you could be, how much you could push it until his own restraints broke. “Maybe I should show you.”

Your hands traced the straps and the edges of the underwear. Your mouth found a nipple as your hands traced but never touched where you could feel a hardness growing and growing. His moans hit your ears and you smiled, your tongue playing from one nipple to another.

”You don't have to...” he tried to say, his moans high, and god, did you love how vocal he could be. He was always so vocal, so good.

”I want to, so be a good boy, baby,” you whispered, bit at the side of his chest, so muscular, so pretty. He moaned higher, hips bucking against your chest. Your mouth traveled down and down, following the green trail of hair. “Driving me crazy with this, Covie.”

Your hands caressed the hardness over the fabric, but your mouth found the tip already out with how hard he was. The dip was so low that the tip was the only thing visible, so your tongue swirled around it, the saltiness hitting your tastebuds. You moaned, fingers at the straps.

”Oh my god," Cove whined loudly, hips bucking again, the tip making its way deeper into your mouth. “Shit, sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to...”

You shook your head and pulled at the straps downward, until the underwear sat underneath his cock and you pushed more and more into your mouth, desperate for more, to make him feel even better.

”Fuck, fuck, fuck," you heard him repeat and you wanted to smile, to tease him like you always did because he only ever cursed in those moments, so gone, so desperate.

More and more, until you felt tears in your eyes, until you breathed through your nose, hands at what you couldn’t fit down your throat because of how big he was. But you loved it, thighs clenching to relieve the ache that formed in between.

It wasn’t about you, even though you could spend hours between his legs, to look at his head thrown back, his eyes closed and face scrunched up, like now. He looked out of this world, long hair around his head, down his shoulders, redness still at his face, sweat down his neck and on his chest. You couldn’t believe he was yours still.

”Shit, sweetheart, I’m gonna… I’m...” Cove’s voice rang out and you felt how tight his balls were getting, see how his abs tightened. He was close, and a part of you wanted him to cum in your mouth, but you had another plan.

You popped off his hardness with a loud pop, saliva around your mouth, and his head rose up, his eyes opened in question. You crawled back up his body, your hands opening your robe, until you could throw it on the floor beside the large bed. You settled on his lap, hands on his shoulders.

You swatted his hands away before they could fall on your hips, and you saw the small pout on his face that you kissed away with a laugh. “Sorry, no touching baby, be good a bit longer for me,” you kissed along his face, nibbled at his neck, leaving a few hickeys as your hips moved, your wetness rubbing on his cock.

Cove whined still against your shoulder, “But you look so good… And you’re so wet,” he moaned, groaned. “Let me touch you, please,” he begged but you shook your head, your hips rising up to catch the tip at the edge of your wetness, of your warmth.

You slowly sunk down, your own moan unable to stay in your throat at the delicious burn his cock always gave you, that fullness that always took your breath away. You hummed as you sank lower and lower.

His eyes were closed tightly, his body trembled when you finished back on his lap, the length fully inside you. You stayed still, enjoying the moment, and his hands stayed beside his hips, beside the underwear that was still underneath his cock, trapping his legs in place. He was taut, all muscles tight and restrained.

”Please, please, move," Cove begged and you could only answer with your hips moving up and slamming back down.

Your moans intertwined with Cove’s, as you rode him, slowly, building a faster rhythm with every breath, every moan. You rode him, a deep pleasure building in your stomach, pleasure built with his moans in your ear, your teeth at his shoulder.

You rode him until your thighs trembled and his hips, so restrained until now, slammed up in response. You almost screamed his name. It had hit that one spot deep inside and your body had fallen down onto his chest.

All restraint broke in his body, his hands at your hips, so tight you knew you would feel them still tomorrow, “Sorry, I can’t...” he breathed out, before his hips slammed up again and again, his hands guiding your hips down every time.

“Fuck, Cove, Cove,” you repeated his name, your forehead on his shoulder, your eyes on the spot that joined your two bodies together, his cock sliding in and out.

His name on your lips broke him again and you lost all control you had on the situation. His hands manhandled you on your back, almost ripped the underwear that had started it all off his legs, and he had your legs folded against his chest before he slid back in.

The breath was knocked out of your chest, your hands tugged at his hair, and your eyes were on him always. The muscles bulging with every movement, the sweat trickling down, the pure ferocity and desperation on his face.

Cove wasn't always pushed to this side of dominance, if not ever. Not to this degree. You both liked to switch, to play with what were the limits and new things, but falling back into lovemaking most of the time. Here, your gentle sweet Cove was gone, to leave a rougher Cove you loved too, your moans encouraging him.

”Don’t stop, Cove, don’t stop," you begged, hands desperate in his hair, hips moving to answer every thrust deep inside, against the spot. You could barely talk and he could only groan and moan, his own mouth busy on your nipples, back arched.

You were getting closer and closer, and he could feel it, the way you arched more and more, the way you were tighter and tighter around him, the way your moans only got louder. His eyes were on your face, a hand moving down from your hip to the nub of nerves, so wet from everything.

Your head tilted back into the pillow, “Cove, I’m… I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, warned and he hummed in response, his thumb insistent on your clit, in time with every thrust. Your back arched even more, the pleasure exploding in your stomach, behind your eyes, and in your whole body until you were left a trembling thing underneath Cove.

His thrusts slowed down, but your hips moved and you shook your head. “No, don't stop, need you to cum,” you croaked out, voice spent, hands still tugging at his hair.

”I don’t want to hurt you,” Cove moaned over you, eyes half-lidded on your face, but you shook your head again. You tugged him closer, forehead against his.

”You can’t hurt me. Please Cove, I love you, please,” you begged, his thrusts were erratic and you could tell he was close.

”I love you, fuck, I love you so much, I love you," he repeated against your cheek, and you hummed, answered back, until he moaned louder.

Until the final thrust, until he came deep inside you with your name on his lips and you kissed his face.

Cove detangled himself from you only to bring back a wet washcloth, to wipe you and himself. You only got up to go the toilets, fast and impatient, to find him back in bed, under the covers.

You cuddled in his arms, your cheek on his shoulder, legs entangled to look at him. Content, beautiful. It was magical, as always, to go to sleep with him every night, to have him be the last thing you always saw at night.

”Well, that was a nice surprise," you giggled and he smiled lazily. “I’ll be the one to surprise you next time.”

He groaned lightly but laughed, forehead hitting yours gently. “If you want me to really die, sure,” and you could only laugh, his lips on your eyelids, yours reaching up to kiss his eyebrows. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

You hummed, “I love you, Covie.”

His smile grew larger, and his cheeks turned red as always, “I love you too.”

And you fell asleep, safe, happy, home, where you belonged.

#our life #our life beginnings & always #our life beginnings #cove holden #cove holden headcannons #cove holden smut #cove holden x reader #cove holden x mc #cove holden x you #cove holden fanfic #our life fanfic

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welldonebeca · 6 months

Text

about offices and feelings (3)

Summary: When Steve is stuck in an elevator with his office crush, he is forced to face his feelings about her. Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader WC: 3.5k words Warning: Smut. Dirty talking. D/s dynamics. Unprotected sex. Body worship.

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There was almost a little angel and a little devil on each of Steve's shoulders as he followed you with his car.

His mother had raised him so much better than that. She would have smacked you right over the head if she even heard that he was going to have premarital sex with a woman who wasn't even his girlfriend yet, what kind of catholic was he supposed to be?!

On the other hand - and shoulder - Bucky would kill him if he found out he even thought of walking away from this chance, especially after he heard him speaking of you the way he did since you two had met.

And Steve really, really wanted you.

He could take you on a date tomorrow. If you let him stay over, he could get up early and make you two some nice breakfast, and then take you out to lunch.

There, now he had solved the "not dating" problem.

Did he have condoms?

Fuck, he didn't have condoms.

To be fair, he didn't even have reasons to carry around condoms.

Maybe you had them?

But fuck, the idea of fucking you raw and stuffing you with his seed...

It would be so irresponsible and he couldn't ever suggest it to you. What kind of man would do that?

He followed you into your building, parking right behind your car, and you looked way calmer than him when you met in the garage.

"I want to take you to lunch," he told you the moment you even looked at him. "Tomorrow."

You stopped, a bit surprised.

"Okay," you agreed. "Tomorrow?"

"Or dinner," he added. "Maybe both, and the two days in a row. I don't mind."

You smiled, surprised, almost laughing.

"I'd go anywhere with you."

Steve chuckled, relaxing.

"Lead the way," he asked you.

You took his hand, guiding him to the stairs, and he couldn't help the laugh that left his lips as you climbed up.

"No chance of another elevator breaking with us inside today," he joked.

You laughed with him.

"I don't think I'll ever get into an elevator without fearing it'll break again," you confessed, leaving his hand and digging for something in your bag. "Can I have your licence?"

He frowned, a bit confused, but grabbed his wallet and took it, offering it to you.

When you two stopped at the top, you took a picture and gave it back to him, typing something on your phone.

"If I end up dead or hurt, you got two lawyers and a very good tech dude who know where you work and your full name," you told him playfully. "Hope you don't mind."

He put it back in his wallet and pocket.

"Whatever keeps you alive," Steve shrugged.

You put your phone back and finally took your keys, and he stood quietly as you unlocked the door, waiting for an invitation to come in.

Your place wasn't big. He could see a small corridor, a kitchen that shared its space with the living room without making it too small, and two doors that he supposed were your bedroom and your bathroom. It was cozy, and it did have some personality.

He could see a few paintings hanging around and surrounded with pictures of you with other people, on occasions that seemed very important to you.

And he would love to ask you about them, the story behind them and who those people were, but he was there for a reason.

"Do you want to eat or drink anything?" you offered. "I have fruit snacks, tea, some actually really nice little-"

"You," he turned around quickly.

You looked at him, wide eyes and confused, and at least five inches shorter.

"I want to eat you," he decided simply.

You grinned loudly, and you simply dropped your shirt down.

Steve took one big step and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close and kissing your lips, and this time it wasn't calm or sweet. Instead, Steve kissed you hungrily, the way he'd been wanting to do it for a long, long time.

He moved his hand to your hips, holding you and sighing into your lips at the soft feeling of your flesh in your hands.

Fuck, he wanted to kiss you all over, bite and worship your whole body.

He angled himself, and you pulled back from his lips.

"You don't have-" you tried to protest.

Steve didn't let you completely, and picked you right up.

He wished he could burn the way you gasped and held onto him right in his brain so that every time he did it he could remember how cute it sounded.

"Steve!" you squeezed his shoulders.

"The day I can't carry my woman to bed will be the day I know I'm not doing things right in the gym," he said simply.

And it wasn't even a struggle. Carrying you was way nicer than the weights he had to place around in the gym.

You let out a little giggle, hiding your face in his neck and clenching his middle with your delicious thighs, and he didn't even realise his slip-up - and maybe you hadn't either.

He walked the two of you over to your bedroom, holding you with a single hand on your back to open the door, and moved his lips receptively when you went back into kissing him, fingers reaching up to tangle themselves into his hair.

Steve sat down with you right over him, not even embarrassed by how hard his cock was already, using his hands to pull your clothes and push your skirt up at the same time, although frustrated when instead of finding your soft thighs under it, he was met with more fabric.

"Off," he mumbled, trying to tug on it, and you giggled into his lips.

He didn't want to let you go but did, and you stood up, adjusting your shirt as he watched you.

"Off," you parroted, moving your hand back and unzipping it.

Steve watched rather hungrily as it fell around your legs, he could see that you were wearing some kind of shorts underneath, which kept your undershirt tucked, and he waited patiently as you pushed it down, finally revealing your thighs, and they were jsut as beautiful as every bit of skin he had seen of you.

Impatience filled him as he watched you go, and he stood up on his feet, taking off his shirt and undershirt already, and when he got to look at you again, he stopped.

There you stood in front of him, in bra and panties.

They didn't quite match, the bra just looked very basic - black, fitting, with thick straps - and the panties were blue with flowers.

"Not that sexy," you giggled, looking a bit nervous. "I wasn't expecting anyone to see it."

Somehow, that made him even hornier.

Steve pushed his pants down without much patience, stepping out of them and pulling you again.

"You're so beautiful," he exhaled as you spread your thighs around him, caressing your warm skin from your knees to the roundness of your hips, and you gasped a little when his hand traced the line of your panties over your belly. "Wanna know what made me mad today?"

You shook your head, and he sought your lips again, kissing you as he moved down and down and down, until he found the gusset.

They were so modest, so professional, just like you. He wanted to make them drenched and messy.

He bit your lower lips when you gasped, and smirked as he looked for your clit.

"Steve" you panted, rubbing your nose over his.

Oh, you were all breathless already.

So pretty.

"That tight little skirt," he told you. "Could see lower your belly on it, all pretty... wanted to touch it, kiss it."

You closed your eyes, and he pushed his fingers a little, finding your entrance and circling it.

"I just wanted to spread you on the table and bite it," he hissed. "Almost couldn't concentrate on the meeting, could barely stop looking at you."

You whined in response, moving your hips, and he moved up to your clit, rubbing it in circles.

"Didn't know you even looked at me like that," you fell into his neck.

He chuckled, moving back, giving your lower lip a little lick.

"Would you let me, little miss?" he teased you. "Bite and kiss that belly that has been tempting me for days?"

The way you looked at him... oh, he wanted to take a picture to hang it.

"Yeah," you whispered. "I would."

Steve smiled, lifting you up and putting you on the bed.

He took one long look at your body ont he bed. Your big tits, the rolls of your belly, the thickness of your thighs.

Steve wished he could touch everything at once, kiss everything at once, bite everything at once. He could spend hours and hours worshipping even inch of delicious soft skin, exposed just for him.

But if he had his way, then he would have time.

You moved to the centre of the bed and he knelt in front of you, kissing your lips again before moving down. He kissed and bit and suck on your neck and jaw, moving his nose over your breasts, promising himself he would come back to them soon.

At last, he reached your belly, and was happy to move his hands to it, caressing your sides as he moved down and down, kissing the soft flesh.

Oh, he loved the idea of painting it with his cum, marking you. It would be beautiful.

Steve followed his objective, settling between your legs and slowly, very teasingly, pulling your panties down to the curve of your hips, uncovering your belly.

He kissed along the line it made on your skin, very carefully, so he was sure it wouldn't hurt you, still slow to try and pace himself, to savour everything.

Slowly, he ran his teeth over your skin, earning a little whimper, and ran his knuckle over the gusset of your panties, playing with you.

"Please," you pleaded breathlessly. "Steve. You said you were going to bite."

He laughed a little, lips still on your skin.

"Impatient much?" he teased you.

But you pouted.

"You said you'd been thinking about it the whole day," you retorted. "And now you got me thinking about it."

He laughed a little, and moved his lips down, down and down, and bit you right down your belly button, earning a gasp.

"Like this?" he hummed, moving his hands to hook his finger on the side of your panties, pulling just enough to ease a finger into your cunt.

He kissed along the line it made on your skin, very carefully so he was sure it wouldn't hurt you, still slow to try and pace himself, to savour everything.

Slowly, he ran his teeth over your skin, earning a little whimper, and ran his knuckle over the gusset of your panties, playing with you.

"Please," you pleaded breathlessly. "Steve. You said you were going to bite."

He laughed a little, lips still on your skin.

"Impatient much?" he teased you.

But you pouted.

"You said you'd been thinking about it the whole day," you retorted. "And now you got me thinking about it."

He laughed a little, and moved his lips down, down and down, and bit you right down your belly button, earning a gasp.

"Like this?" he hummed, moving his hands to hook his finger on the side of your panties, pulling just enough to ease a finger into your cunt.

And you were drenched.

Steve moaned into your skin as he bit you again, enjoying the feeling against his teeth, the softness and plushiness.

Yes. That, that was what he needed.

You moaned in a long exhale when he started fucking you with his finger, kissing, biting and sucking you. He wanted to mark, for you to remember him every time you looked at yourself in the mirror.

Your walls squeezed around his finger when he caressed a special spot, and Steve looked up at your face, finding your lips parted and your eyes closed.

God, what a beauty.

He pushed a second finger as he left suck-and-bite love marks on your skin, licking whichever stretch mark he found from start to fish, every little skin mark, every little patch.

"Steve," you pleaded, sounding needy. "Please."

Steve kissed your skin gently.

"What do you need?"

You shuddered.

"Inside me," you spread your legs. "Want you to fill me up."

His cock throbbed as he pulled away, taking his finger from inside you, and sucked onto it happily before taking your panties and pulling them down your legs, moving away from the bed to take off what was left of his clothes - including his socks.

You sat up to watch him, taking off your bra, and Steve had the pleasure of seeing you licking your lips as the sight of him.

Oh, but he would fuck that smirk right off that beautiful face of yours.

He climbed back to the bed, kissing your lips briefly and moving right to your tits, his hands aching to squeeze them and see how much spilling from his hands there would be.

His thumbs caressed your nipples, finding them already hard and pointy, your tits spilling from the grip of his fingers as you whined adorably.

"Steve," you pushed your fingers into his hair. "Need you."

He spread your legs, taking his cock in his hand and stroking himself before setting himself in place, rubbing the head up and down your pussy, letting your wetness coat him.

The moment he pushed into you, both of you moaned.

Fuck, yes.

"Gonna take all of my cock, won't you, pretty miss?" he grunted. "All of that big cock in your wet cunt."

"Yes," you moaned, tossing your head back. "Give it to me, Steve. Want it all."

He reached up, pinching your nipple and twisting it, earning another beautiful sound from you.

He didn't know if he would be able to ever look at you and not think of those beautiful little sounds, little moans and mewls as he pushed into you, patience and nice, and you cunt swallowed him down.

Steve pulled back a little bit, careful, and pushed in again, fucking you slowly.

You were having none of it, though.

"Harder," you pleaded. "Steve!"

But he clicked his tongue.

"I don't want to hurt you," he insisted.

Still, you raised your legs, trying to wrap them around his waist, and he held them down firmly.

"No, little miss," he scowled, taking his sweet time. "You're gonna be good and take what you're given."

You whimpered beautifully, squeezing his cock a little more and he raised his eyebrows.

"Do you like it, little miss," he moved a little more, fucking you slowly. "When I'm all bossy with you?"

You nodded, covering your face a little bit, and he pulled your hands away.

"Don't ever be ashamed of how I make you feel," he whispered. "I want to hear everything."

You nodded, looking all soft on the face, and Steve pushed the last inch of his cock right into you, burying himself in your dripping cunt.

"Steve," you moaned.

"Feels good?" he panted, caressing the way down your belly before moving to your cunt, searching for your clit and finding it stiff.

He gave it a circular rub, testing to see how you liked it, and you let out the hottest of sounds, gasping, cunt squeezing around his cock deliciously.

"Yes," you cried. "Feel good, please. Please, Steve."

So, so impatient.

Steve clicked his tongue, fucking you ever so patiently, controlling himself as he rubbed you, focusing on your pleasure.

He wanted you to cum on his cock, wanted to watch you cry and feel you cream.

"What kind of gentleman do you think I am, little miss?" he teased you. "To just use you without making sure I've given you pleasure?"

Fuck, you felt so good. Warm and wet and slicky, welcoming him so nicely.

"What kind of good man would I be if I didn't make you cum before I even thought of myself?" he asked.

You moaned more, arching your hips as his finger picked up the pace on your clit.

"Yes," you panted. "Gonna cum, Steve, just like that."

He continued with his pace, hand on your hip and fingers on your swollen bud, his eyes trained on your tits for a moment. Fuck, he could make them bounce so beautifully.

But he moved his eyes up, focusing on your face.

"Look at me," Steve whispered. "Wanna see you cum for me, wanna see your eyes."

You opened them, giving him the sultriest look he'd ever seen, the sexiest expression on your face. Your sounds filled the room as you came and he had to hold himself back for a moment, your spasms on his sensitive cock, the sight of you and the sounds from you making him feel nearly inebriated.

You were still coming down when he finally, fucking finally, let himself move faster.

He slammed his hips against yours, and you fucking loved it.

So he did again, grunting as your tits bounced, as your moans came out in little staccato breaths, your cunt never ceasing to milk him.

With each moan of his, you seemed to adore everything, and he was glad to oblige.

"Yes," you tossed your head back when he rutted into you, hipbone brushing your clit each time he slammed into you, and he didn't know if he would rather drag your pleasure and make you mad and needy or overflow you with it. "Steve."

He leaned down, sucking on your nipple, groping your breasts, squeezing and playing with them eagerly.

You crossed your legs behind his back like you'd tried to do before, and Steve focused even more on your pleasure when your sounds grew.

"You're going to cum again, baby?" he pulled on your nipples, playing with both with his hands. "Hm? Gonna cum on my cock?"

"Yes," you cried. "Yes, Steve."

Your cunt fluttered deliciously around him, closer and closer, wetter and wetter.

"You want me to rub your clit?" he offered. "Play with you, hm?"

But your shook your head.

"Your... hip-" you moaned. "Fuck, just don't stop, don't stop, please, please, please-"

He didn't. Steve fucked you, trying to keep doing exactly what he had been doing before, and watched with pleasure as you came, feeling himself too close.

And just then, it dawned on him that he hadn't put on a condom, that you two hadn't even talked about it.

"Fuck," he grunted, raising himself.

But your cunt was so good, so slick, so delicious.

He was just going to fuck you a little more, just a bit more, he could hold it, he could-

Steve pulled himself from inside you quickly, taking his hand to his slick-covered cock for what felt like a second before he came, his cum coming out in quick spurts painting your beautiful torso over his teeth marks, pearly white against flushed skin.

You panted as you watched him, looking down at your body and where he had painted you, and Steve outrightly whimpered when you ran a finger over some of his cum and straight up tasted it before sitting up and kissing him hungrily.

Slowly, it became softer, sweeter, and Steve manoeuvred the two of you, laying down on your bed.

"I guess we should have talked about that part before we fucked," you chuckled, looking at his face.

Steve smiled, moving his hand to your face, pushing your hair back.

"I'm sorry," he told you. "I should have stopped, and we should have talked about it."

You gave him a cheeky look.

"I didn't hate it, though," you told him. "I mean, I have recent tests. I always want to make sure. And I have an IUD, so if you wanted to cum inside..."

He tossed his head back. Fuck, if he was a few years younger, he would certainly give you that later tonight.

"First we rest," he told you anyway, taking your hand. "We have an awful long night."

That made you chuckle.

"We did," you agreed. "And I distinctly remember being offered a lunch and a dinner date."

Steve's heart leapt a beat. So you still wanted him.

You played with his fingers a little bit.

"As long as you don't make me ear liver," you added emphatically. "I think I want to cash on one of those dinners tonight."

He grinned.

"We can share a relaxing shower," he offered you. "And I'll make you something great with whatever you have in your fridge."

You looked at him, smiling beautifully.

"I like that," you decided, and lowered your eyes a bit, looking suddenly shy. "And you can... you know. Spend the night. If you want to."

"I do," he said quickly. "Very much so."

You seemed to relax, smile still as beautiful and sweet.

"Okay," you whispered. "That is very nice."

…

“about offices and feelings” was posted on my Patreon in June. To have early access to my works, subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month, and I post 6x a week.

If you liked "this "about offices and feelings", you might enjoy IT'S A BAD IDEA, RIGHT? Summary: The worst idea a waitress in Mama Stefka can have is to fall in love with a man in Hydra. They aren’t supposed to even talk! It doesn’t stop Betty, though. BRATTY BABY Summary: When you act out, Steve and Bucky teach you, their bratty baby, a lesson. (It’s just porn. There is barely a plot holding this together.)

. . .

…

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth @amythyststorm33 @shaelyn102 @yknott81 @maximofftrash @kgbrenner @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80 @mogaruke @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever @deemoriarty @05spn18 @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67 @averyrogers83 @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega Marvel forever tags: @its-daydreamer23 @tayrae515imagines @indecisiondecisions? @afanofmanystuffs? @patzammit @thevanishedillusion? @alexisshoto @princess-evans-addict @dreams-of-feysand @dragonqueen0606 @izbelross @isabelle-faith

#welldonebeca's about offices and feelings #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader fic #steve rogers x fat!reader #steve rogers x you

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deangirlsstuff67 · 1 year

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Say My Name

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warning: wet dreams, voyeurism, period sex, anal play, p in a, creampie, soft dean, Unprotected sex, rough sex

Summary: You wake up hearing Dean yelling from his room next door, only he isn't in trouble.

Masterlist | Patreon

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

It's the middle of the night when you startle awake. What the fuck woke you up. You could have sworn you heard yelling and it wasn't in your dreams.

You wait a few minutes. The bunker is deathly quiet. The boys have long gone to bed after their bar visit for St. Patrick's Day this evening. You were honestly shocked Dean came home at all, he was talking non stop about getting luck tonight.

Just as you close your eyes you hear a faint whimper from the wall you share with Dean. You slowly get up, not to make a sound as you reach for the pistol you keep under your pillow.

There it is again but louder. Almost as if he's in pain.

Shit.

There's no way someone or something has gotten in here. The bunker is more secure than Fort Knox.

But as you slowly make your way to your door, Dean hasn't stopped. Gradually getting louder, more desperate. Whatever is happening sounds painful.

Tip toeing out into the hall and down to the plain wood door that holds Dean and all his things, you draw your weapon. Ready for anything. Taking everything the boys have taught you and using it to save yourself and Dean.

Quietly you open the door. Dean is laying on his back. He's sheets are tangled around those gorgeous bow legs.

Gun drawn in front of you, you scan the room. There's nothing there. Not a soul in this room that could be causing Dean pain.

So why the groans?

On the balls of your feet you turn to leave when you hear it again. Dean groaning as if he's in pain.

Spinning around, gun cocked, ready to fire on the bastard hurting your Dean. Expect there isn't anyone in the room but you and the dangerously hot green eyed hunter.

Who is humping the air?

That's when all the pieces fall into place. The groans. The whimpers. And your name?

Was that your name he just said?

You need to leave before this becomes anymore awkward or creepy.

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

You're at the door when Dean cries your name louder than before. You can't help yourself and turn around.

He's awake. Green eyes locked on yours as he pants.

Oh my God. He just came from a dream about you.

Fuck that's hot.

"Y/N" it's barely above a whisper. Almost as if he's scared if he speaks too loud you'll dissappear.

Embarrassed you blurt out the first thing you can think of before running back to your room, "I'm so sorry Dean."

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

Soft knocking echos through the quiet room. Your in bed again. Your body is flush, core pulsing with need, and thighs slick with your desire.

He doesn't wait for an answer, probably knowing you wouldn't anyways.

Dean's dressed in nothing but his boxers. Groaning you pull your blanket above your eyes. The visual is so not helping right now.

You feel the bed dip. Your blanket rises and a hot body moves in next to you. He doesn't say anything as his hands roam your body.

You freeze when he begins to drift towards your heat. As much as you'd love this to happen, mother nature has different plans.

"I can't Dean."

"Why?" It's hoarse and husky. Hits your deep in your core.

"Umm... I'm... on my... fuck." You take a calming breath. No point in lying at thus point. "I'm on my period Dean."

It's quiet for a moment before he's kissing your shoulder and moving his hand to your back. Strong fingers work their way down your spine towards your ass.

"Have you ever taken someone here?" He's big hands kneed your ass cheek above your underwear.

Nervous dance in your belly, "only once."

You can feel him through your underwear, he's large. You aren't sure if you'll be able to take him. But damn it you've had a crush on Dean for years. What if this is your chance.

"Would you want to try?" Slowly he works his way into your underwear. Lightly caressing your skin as he goes.

Your body is warm. You're so turned on you feel like you might combust. You hardly recognize your own voice when you respond, "yes."

Dean fingers dissappear.

Moments later they're back and wet with his own saliva. Oh he's a dirty man.

Dean takes his time warming you up. Sliding one, then two, eventually three fingers deep inside your tight channel.

"Sweetheart, you're so tight. I won't last long inside you."

"Good. I'm so close Dean. Wanna cum with you."

"Yes ma'am" then he's withdrawing his fingers, leaving you feeling empty. You hear his spit in his hand as he uses his spit and pre cum to lubricate his thick dick.

Lining himself up he slowly pushes forward. Your body struggles for a moment before you can relax and accept him. His head pops past your tight ring and he stops.

"Good girl y/n."

"Dean, please. I need you."

He pushes more as he slowly slides into your body. Both of you panting heavy as you join your bodies.

As he bottoms out in you, he stops again, "how do you want it baby?"

Your so close. So blissed out from the pleasure, you just want to cum.

"Hard and fast Dean. Destroy me for anyone else."

A groan comes from beside your ear before he's pulling out and slamming back in.

Over and over again he hits you deep in your gut. A large hand covers your mouth as you scream from the pleasure he's giving you.

"You going to cum baby. Going to cum with my dick deep in your ass."

All you can do is moan as he pistons into you.

He removes his hand. He's thrusts getting sloppy as he nears his own end.

"Say my name baby girl. Scream for me y/n."

And you do. Your orgasm takes over. Vision blurs as you cum on his cock. You feel him twitch inside of you before hot spurts of cum flood your ass and drips out past his cock.

Seems like hours your two stay like that. His dick softening before slipping from your sloppy hole.

Dean kisses your cheek, then he gets up and goes to get a wet cloth to clean you both up with.

After he's done he puts your underwear back in place and holds you close. Rubbing your side he speaks softly, "you have no idea how much I've wanted that y/n."

"Me too Dean."

"Looks like I do have some luck of the Irish today." Kissing you again he rests his head on your pillow, "go to bed sweetheart. I'll be here in the morning."

Then you both fall into a deep, comfortable sleep, holding onto one another.

#jensen ackles #dean girl #dean winchester #spn fanfic #supernatural #jensen ackles smut #dean x you #deanwinchtser #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester smut

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yurimother · 5 months

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An Update on YuriMother

As I'm sure many of you have noticed, there has been a distinct lack of my regular news coverage and articles as of late. I recently moved and started working at a new school (for those who do not know, teaching is my day job). While I love this job, it has considerably taxed my time and energy, which compounded with my strained focus and dedication that was already affecting the volume of my content, resulting in the near month-long silence.

However, I hope to recommit myself to YuriMother, as nothing in my life brings me more joy than my work with Yuri, and I want to continue celebrating the genre as I have for the past 11 years. This means resuming coverage of Yuri news stories, conducting more research, writing more reviews and articles, filming videos for TikTok, and working towards some of my personal larger goals for YuriMother.

Rather than going back and trying to cover everything I have missed over the past month, I am posting an article with a quick roundup of many major Yuri manga and light novel releases. The rest of the news slate is planned out for the week with, of course, room for any new stories that break. Additionally, I have several articles of varying scope, both for the main YuriMother website and for the Patreon exclusive "Secret Garden" line, at different stages of conceptualization and research. I look forward to drafting and editing these soon. Some are pieces that have floated around my head for over a year, and the prospect of finally putting them to page for you all to enjoy and learn from delights me.

I also created a poll on Patreon for members and the public, whether they subscribe to me or not, to decide the subject of my next review. Perhaps more than anything, I am thrilled by the prospect of actually reading Yuri again, as I practically have not consumed anything since I spent the majority of July burning through over a hundred webcomics and several times that amount in dollars because forget those free period wait times, I've got lesbians to fangirl over, for the 2023 Yuri Guide. There are so many incredible new titles and returning series sitting on my bookshelf, or more accurately, sitting in or on top of moving boxes next to my as-of-yet unassembled bookshelf, that I am thrilled to share with you.

Lastly, I want to thank you all for your continued support and patience with me during this time. I know many of you back me, and my work with your hard-earned money, a fact which persistently baffles and humbles me, and I acknowledge that I have not always lived up to my end of that relationship.

I cannot promise that I will be perfect or that there will not be times when I struggle to deliver YuriMother content, but I can at least assure you that I will try my best every day and once again express my enormous gratitude to all of you. Thank you, everyone, especially my wonderful Patrons, for your engagement, kindness, support, and love of Yuri.

Sincerely,

Nicki Bauman The Holy Mother of Yuri

As always, if you can, consider joining the YuriMother on Patreon. Patrons can check out news, reviews, and articles early, get access to exclusive content like "The Secret Garden" an series of essays all about Yuri , and help support me and my work celebrating Yuri anime and magna.

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obscuritory · 5 months

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We've got a ton of cool game history stuff to share, and we need your help

Hey folks! For those who don't know, I work full-time now at the Video Game History Foundation, a non-profit that's helping preserve game history. And it's that time of year when we need your help!

We're kicking off our annual winter fundraiser, but with a holiday twist. Every day in December, we're sharing off a cool history "treat" from our collection! Maybe it's a cool piece of artwork. Maybe it's a video about a lost piece of gaming history! We've been doing a ton of exciting preservation work this year, and we can't wait to share it.

We're a small organization, and we need your support. For this year's fundraiser, we're hoping to hit $50,000. We're building a library of game history materials and fighting to fix copyright law to make game preservation easier, and every donation helps our mission.

I'll be posting our treats-of-the-day on here, but you can get them sent to you directly by signing up for our mailing list. Oorrrrr you can join our Patreon and get the treats a whole day early! If you like what you're seeing, please donate a couple bucks to keep us going!

We've got some great stuff planned for you. Day #1 is already available for Patreon members, and if you love the kind of CD-ROM adventure game stuff I usually post on here, I think you'll really like it.

#game history #game preservation #retro gaming #gaming

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nextinline-if · 7 months

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Patreon Closing & Where Things Are

Hi everyone.

First, I hope you are all doing well. I’m posting this to update you and let you know that I’m still around. I am not on hiatus - I am just working on the game very, very slowly, as I can.

Secondly, I apologize that a few of you (around 7 people) were charged because Patreon unpaused. The current set up is that it doesn’t notify the creator that the unpause is ending and you can only do one month at a time which is frustrating. Still, a few of you were charged and that’s on me. I did issue refunds which hopefully won’t take more than a few days to get back to you!

If you were recently charged and don’t receive a refund by Monday, please reach out to me. I absolutely want to ensure your money returns to you. It’s never my intention to just take peoples money. I’m really sorry about that.

My work on the game is continuing as I can dedicate time. I’ve been working 12hr days and had very little time to myself. I’m also applying to law school right now. Because I can’t dedicate time to Patreon and don’t want anyone getting charged for nothing, I will be closing down my Patreon this month (unpublishing it). I’m going to wait to ensure everyone who needs to receive a refund does first. It’s paused again so no one should be charged in the meantime.

There is a possibility I would re-publish my Patreon in the future. But that probably won’t be for a long time if it happens.

I am immensely grateful to each and every one of you for your continued support, whether that be on Patreon, Tumblr, or elsewhere. I will go back to primarily sharing content on Tumblr or the Discord server. I’m sorry for any time I let you down by being inactive. Working on Next in Line has been one of the few things to give me joy in the last year.

I will keep working on the game behind the scenes and post updates on Tumblr when I can. I hope to become more active once things slow down for me. I don’t anticipate that until December time to be completely honest.

Thank you again for all of your support. I can’t find the write words to emphasize how grateful I am.

- Vi

#update #next in line

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louroth · 10 months

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Hello everyone :>

It's been a month! it's incredible how much my life has changed- while I'm still adjusting I'm just...still walking on clouds. it feels unreal. the patreon took off and I can almost make a living wage on it which is frankly fucking insane, and the discord is so vibrant it scared me for a moment (not anymore- shooting the shit with the people there is the favorite part of my day, even if I sometimes just leave a trail of emotes lskjdhajksdhkjasd.) I couldn't have asked for a better community. YES I am crying about it. Thank you, so, so much. I am cradling your face in my hands. crying.

But as always, enough of my bleeding heart. Let's get to it!

The first two weeks after posting the update, I took a sort of quasi vacation and only wrote a handful of story-words each day, and spent some time fooling around in the discord + brushed off my smut archive to refine for Patreon. There are already 4 stories up, and a new one coming tomorrow- though I haven't decided yet whether it will be possessive/jealous L sfw short or one very nasty short where you come across a particularly insistent species of vines while trekking the forest. hehe. we'll see. >:3

But, even though I had to rest not to combust after work, I am very pleased to say that the next chapter is coming along great, with the skeleton finished for its entirety, and about 45% and some change already written (it's very hard to gauge because I jump around a lot when I write.) This is the final chapter before the forest, filled with action and the heart wrenching drama of offering tenderness to a certain someone, and deciding for your hunter when enough is truly enough. I have teared up writing certain scenes and I genuinely cannot wait for you to experience this next part yourselves.

It is so funny reading things I wrote for this chapter six months ago, or longer, because I knew exactly what emotions I wanted to bake in and couldn't really nail it, but now it is coming together beautifully! Sure, it will still be wonky first draft writing, but the core is there and that is all that matters for now. I'm saying soon™ for the update for now, because I am allowing myself to adapt to writing full time- I didn't quit my job to become my own nightmare boss, and I truly want to enjoy this process. I think, in the long run, it will result in a better story. Patience is my mantra. All in due time- I cannot force quality creative work. But by everything wretched and sinful, I cannot wait to share this next part with you!!! I'm frothing at the mouth!!!

In other news, y'all. I need to get organized. I get heartburn thinking about all the different variations of files and notes and notebooks and scraps of paper and variables and branches of plot and just generally, the things to keep track of is getting to the point of a dragon hoard of scary 'oh no I forgot about that part'. I'm gritting my teeth through it until this chapter is out, but after it, I am going to spend some time to

1) get my shit together in gorgeous, beautiful spreadsheets

2) get serious about finding beta- and proofreaders. (me @ u: 🥺)

But that's it, my friends! I scrapped an entire progress report because I started sounded corporate and listing points which was just... sad. I really hope I evolve into writing these in a more fun way, which would make them more fun for you to read too! But for now, I think this will do. I hope you have a beautiful day/night, and if you would like to see more in depth dev-logs of my writing life, or random sneak peeks, I post those weekly on patreon!

Or join our discord, which. It's just the nicest place, I can't even come up with words that do it justice. It's my favorite daily newspaper.

Until next time! x

#OUROBOROS #ouroboros-if #interactive fiction #dev log #progress report #im scuttling off to finish character moodboards now like a gremlin #i am wholly soaked and immersed in the world of ouro and that just feels... so nice. I never want to leave #on asks: sorry they have taken low priority while I adapt to everything happening. I read every single one and smile and laugh and ponder #but when it comes to actually answering my words just stop working. its a soup up there #send thots and prayers 😔#(or come join the discord where I answer questions with gusto on the daily)

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holy-puckslibrary · 5 months

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━ 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦

˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — teacher!jeff skinner x teacher!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 2.4k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — their students decide to play matchmaker before a school dance; will their scheming pay off?

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — written to fill a short n sweet request last year for my patreon fic-mas <3 and if you catch the lil nod to two of our favs, you're a real one

“I know we’ve been having a hard time concentrating this week, which is understandable with all the excitement surrounding the Snowball Dance, but you do have one more day of work before you can totally kick back and check out,” Jeff Skinner, a high school social studies teacher, says after the tardy bell chimes.

The students are settling into their seats but listen intently.

He continues, “That being said, I will still be collecting your annotations for chapters eighteen through twenty that we started during Monday’s class. While I’m doing that, a sign-up sheet for the Unit 5 case study presentations will be floating around the room. If I were you, I’d grab the earliest slot available to get it over with and be done for the semester. But, hey, that’s just me!”

His twelfth-grade AP Government class meets this with a chorus of groans. A subset of students lightheartedly boo him from the back row. Oddly, though, the ruckus pleases him.

Mr. Skinner strives to create a classroom environment where the teens feel comfortable sharing their honest feelings and have the space to do so if they choose. Their vocal push-back signifies their trust in him. He also appreciates their mutinous spirit because it arose after their deep dive into the Declaration of Independence and its twenty-seven grievances; they were combative but in the name of freedom for the cohort and the individual. Jeff saw that as a Teacher Win.

“I know, I know. I’m a tyrant, and you hate me. But unlike this country, this classroom is a monarchy, not a democracy,” he returns the teasing. “And if you looked at our agenda when you walked in this morning, you would’ve seen that—because I am obviously the nicest person ever—I have allocated today’s class period to independent work time. So, you can complete whatever you may need. That means putting any final touches on this week’s chapters, polishing up your Supreme Court case PowerPoints with your partner or group, or finishing any outstanding assignments.

And if you recall, I give full credit for late work, so long as it's on my desk before the cut-off tomorrow at noon. You’re welcome." Sarcasm is his favorite—and most effective—bonding strategy. "If you're squared away, you know where the board games and art supplies are. Just no more explicit drawings. I don’t care, but Mrs. Benson next door does.”

The class laughs, fondly recalling the fiasco the day before Homecoming.

A couple of students decided to use their free time to create a few political illustrations. While they were historically accurate and objectively hilarious, they were not “school appropriate,” according to the 9th-grade Geography teacher who glimpsed the comic strips as she passed the open door.

She demanded Jeff punish the perpetrators for their vulgarity, but instead, he had the drawings laminated and bound into a resource book. Said book has since found a home on a bookshelf, wedged comfortably between Howard Zinn’s A Power Governments Cannot Suppress and The Words We Live By: Your Annotated Guide to the Constitution by Linda Monk.

In his peripheral vision, Jeff sees a student waiting by the door and invites them in. He segues, “Before I leave you to your own devices, it looks like we have a visitor from ASB. So, please be nice, give them your full attention, and don’t embarrass me. Capiche?”

The class agrees to comply, and the boy, an underclassman if he had to guess, hesitantly walks to the front of the room.

Jeff remembers how intimidating seniors felt when he was that age, so he gives his students a pointed warning over the kid’s shoulder. A few of them perk up, noticeably straightening in their seats.

“Good morning, everyone. I’m Leo, and I will be filling in for Gabby today.” He looks down at the printout of the day’s announcements and clears his throat. Then, Leo begins reading them aloud:

“Feeling stressed this finals season? Stop by the quad next week during both A and B lunch blocks to decompress with some therapy dogs. If you need further or individualized support, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson will be opening up their schedules for one-on-one sessions. Appointments can be made using the yellow slips in the main office.

Work permits are available in the career counseling hub. If you plan on getting a job or need to renew, please submit an application as soon as possible. No permits will be issued during Winter Break.

Remember that your final exam period is not the same as your regular meeting time or day, so be sure to check your portals this weekend for the updated schedule.

Still need a ticket for the Snowball Dance tomorrow night? Please stop by the ASB room or contact Owen Power, the senior class president, before sixth period today. They’re $15 with an ASB card and $20 without one. Trust me; you don’t want to miss out!"

The audience of seniors cheers, hooting and hollering out their delight. The underclassman beams, confidence swelling, and tucks the script away. His smile grows. “And now…drum roll, please!”

As the students bang their desks with open palms, textbooks, and stray pencils, the ASB student angles a pair of jazz hands towards the open door.

“Santa Claus!”

Peyton, the current school mascot—in an ill-fitting costume that's certainly older than he is—materializes in the empty space. He hauls a lumpy velvet bag over his shoulder as he saunters across the room. The tiny gold bells affixed to the sack twinkle with every step.

“Ho, ho, ho! Candy Cane Gram delivery!” Peyton bellows.

His impression is unexpectedly convincing, in Jeff's humble opinion.

“Santa” roots around in the bag and pulls the first set out. They’re paper-clipped together, indicating both were for the same person. “Taylor Zimmerman? Two for you!”

He passes the slips of paper back to the student who raised her hand.

The distribution of festive notes, an annual fundraiser put on by the junior and senior class councils to bankroll the dance itself, fades into background noise as Mr. Skinner begins looking over the pile of essays he collected last period from his squirrelly 10th-grade World History class.

The prompt had been to explore the impact of globalization in the post-Cold War era, and they’re off to a great start. The first essay's author touches on “transnational actors” and their impact on overall global wealth—in the introductory paragraph. Pride blooms in his chest. Maybe someone had been paying attention after all.

Jeff gets through three and a half papers—all 95% and above, but who’s counting?—before he feels someone standing over him.

“Uh, Mr. Skinner?” Peyton whispers in his civilian voice.

“Yes?” Jeff replies.

To mark his spot, Mr. Skinner sets his pen below a particularly eloquent paragraph highlighting how American consumer culture polluted local ecosystems abroad.

The sophomore nervously looks around the room. After deciding his peers were too engrossed in the social politics of sending and receiving Candy Cane Grams and Ice Court nomination speculation to hear, Peyton pulls a slip of paper out from inside the thick, red coat and sets it on Jeff’s desk. It’s crumpled, and the miniature candy cane is barely hanging on.

“This last one’s for you.”

“Oh, thank you very much,” Jeff smiles. The polite expression is meant to relieve the student from his classroom, but Peyton remains glued to his spot. Gently, he asks, “Is there something else I can do for you, Mr. Krebs?”

“Aren’t you going to see who sent it?” the boy asks, all toothy grin and twinkling eyes.

Well, that’s not at all suspicious, Mr. Skinner thinks as he slides the slip closer.

He scans the generic template, reading his name and room number scrawled beside washed-out festive clipart, but doesn’t understand the fuss... until his eyes drift down to the section for an optional message.

Mr. Skinner,

Just like a snowflake, you’re one of a kind. Be my date to the dance tomorrow night? It would make me SNOW happy!

Jeff almost believes it’s from you. Had he not been familiar with your handwriting, it would have been an excellent forgery. But, he knew your penmanship. Maybe a little too well.

His anchor charts were all in your hand; he could see at least three from where he was sitting. Jeff can’t recall the last time he attempted one on his own.

In exchange for mercifully sparing him from teenage ridicule due to his poor penmanship, he handled the construction and refurbishment of the props and sets necessary for the Winter Showcase and spring musical every year. Whatever you, the brilliant and beloved drama teacher, dreamed up, Jeff dutifully built.

Including, but not limited to, an impressive Audrey II, the iconic Venus flytrap from “Little Shop of Horrors,” a life-size bubble for their Glinda to float around in during performances of “Wicked,” and the massive tire that anchors the dilapidated junkyard set for “Cats.”

He was ambivalent about musical theater when he bartered the informal contractor role, but Jeff grew to love it after a few years. Due in large part to your infectious passion.

He gives the mastermind—or masterminds, props for trying, though.

“Oh, wow!” Jeff exclaims, deciding to play along. Peyton's face brightens; there’s no way he’s not involved. “Out of respect, let’s keep this between you and me for now, okay?”

“O-of course, Mr. Skinner,” Peyton sputters, as though he’s shocked Jeff didn’t notice anything amiss or ask any follow-up questions. “That’s why I waited to give it to you. It felt too personal to announce in front of your entire class. Especially after the whole Homecoming thing.”

“Thing” wasn’t what he’d call it, but this kind of dramatic exaggeration was one of the many reasons he loved working with teenagers.

During a pep rally in October, the student body president crowned the two of you the faculty Homecoming King and Queen. Jeff wasn't even aware that was a thing he could win, and neither had you, but you bashfully accepted the titles and accompanying crowns in front of a thousand rowdy high schoolers anyway.

Later that night, you slow-danced to Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” under a sky of twinkling stars—clear fairy lights repurposed from the previous year’s "Camelot" canopy—black glitter tulle, and a plywood crescent moon.

The students lost their minds then and were yet to get over it. Obviously.

“I appreciate that,” Jeff says, biting back his amusement.

Peyton salutes him and hoists the sack over his shoulder again. He and Leo say their goodbyes and move on to the next classroom on their route.

The remainder of the school day was agonizingly hectic. So much so that it meddled with his plan to swing by the auditorium where you held classes.

His projector kicked the bucket in the middle of his lecture on the two-way exchanges collectively known as the Columbian Exchange; Jeff couldn’t get it back into commission until his prep period, so he would have to explain how the triangular trade route emerged from colonial mercantilism policies in the new year. His 9th-grade World Geography class refused to participate in the activity he organized to mimic the Arctic landscape and harsh climate, so, somewhat reluctantly, he cut his losses and threw on an episode of Where On Earth Is Carmen Sandiego? And right before his sixth period, some bored senior pulled the fire alarm, forcing the entire school to spend the glacial afternoon lined up in the parking lot.

All that said, it was safe to say Mr. Skinner had never been happier to see his driveway and his dog than he was this evening. The border collie shepherd mix, Chips—affectionately named as a tribute to the trained sentry dog who became the most decorated canine in the Second World War—is waiting on the porch. Joyously, he howls when Jeff gets out of his car.

“Hey, buddy,” he says as he reaches down to scratch between the pup’s ears. Chips jumps up, his muddy paws landing on Jeff’s coat. He begins licking his owner’s cheeks with reckless abandon. “Okay, come on, crazy dog. Let’s get you back inside.”

Immediately after Jeff opens the front door, Chips darts down the hallway. He chuckles, shaking his head as he sheds his coat and tosses his keys into the bowl by the door.

Jeff rescued his dog as he was wrapping up his undergraduate degree at NC State, and the two were as thick as thieves up until a few years ago.

That’s not to say anything happened or there’s bad blood; Chips simply found a new favorite person.

Jeff trails after Chips, following the furry tail and the delicious scent wafting from the kitchen. He makes a pit stop at the fridge to grab a beer before turning to address his successor to the rescue's heart, standing at the stove stirring a giant pot of soup.

“You won’t believe what happened in my second period today, babe. Every day, I’m surprised by how bold teenagers are. Hell, when I was their age, I was petrified to sharpen a pencil without asking. Their latest scheme wouldn’t have even crossed my mind. Seriously, I don’t think you could guess what shenanigans they got up to if you tried.”

He's met with melodic laughter, a sparkly sound that still makes his heart skip a beat.

“Maybe not, but I don’t need to.”

Jeff’s brows knit together, confused. Then his eyes zero in on the slip of paper identical to the one in his back pocket.

If it were possible, his jaw could sweep the tile floor.

“Guess we aren’t as sly as we think,” you smirk, waving a counterfeit Candy Cane Gram of your own in the air like a white flag.

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