Tumgik
#(but i think he kind of lost his grip on that a bit at red bull lol)
lovebugism · 1 year
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Play wrestling with bff Steve and getting giggly when he just straight up manhandles you 😭😭😭
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✶ ┄ SORE LOSER !
summary: steve harrington doesn't like to let you win until he realizes how good it feels to lose. pairing: best friend!steve harrington / f!reader word count: 1.6k warnings: a lil bit suggestive towards the end, but nothing crazy a/n: i got super carried away with this lol i kinda just took this request and ran with it and well... here we are :) enjoy!
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Steve never lets you win. 
He thinks it’s letting you off too easy.
The boy’s competitive to a fault. He can’t stomach a loss, even if it’s in something as meaningless as a carnival game you only wanted to play for the giant dinosaur plushie that’s half the size of you. 
He always ends up giving it to you when he inevitably wins, wearing a big smug smile on his pretty, pink lips. You take it from him with a pout. The childlike scowl is quelled only by the funnel cake he buys you after.
It doesn’t matter what it is — a game of monopoly, trivia questions on the ends of popsicle sticks, taking in the groceries — Steve finds a way to make all of it competitive. He wants to have the most fake money and little fake properties, he wants to shout the answer before anyone else can, he wants to carry more heavy plastic bags than everyone else. Just to say that he did it.
If you put this much effort into school, you’d be in college right now, Harrington, you’d tease.
Not my fault you’re a sore loser, he’d retort. I’ll let you win the next one, sunshine. Promise.
He never does.
You and Steve play-wrestle like a couple of kids. It usually comes out of nowhere. You’ll make fun of him, he’ll shove at you, and you’ll shove back harder. Then it just turns into a game of who’s stronger than who — and it’s always him. Obviously. 
You try your hardest to prove your strength, pushing at him with nimble fists and wriggling something fierce in his hold, but you come out red-faced with a participation ribbon laced within his taunts. And even though he’s got several inches on you and quite a bit more muscle, he never lets you win. Ever.
He manhandles you, perhaps a little too rough at times, but it wasn’t like he had to be kind to you. You weren’t dating or anything, you were best friends — this is what a couple of pals do, right?
They play fight on the carpet of the other’s movie room after being told their closest confidant would murder them in a game of fuck, marry, kill between Anthony Michael Hall and Robert Downey Jr. with zero hesitation.
Friends totally force the other onto the ground by grabbing at the bottoms of their thighs before kneeling over them, wrenching their wrists in their grip and pressing their hands to the ground on either their head.
It’s the definition of being best buds. Truly.
For the first time, you manage to get the better of him. You’re pressed beneath his weight, breathing heavy and rapidly tiring, and you wave the white flag of surrender.
Just when Steve's letting you up and swiping a hand through his mussed hair, you force him onto his back and straddle his waist — like he always did to you — and giggle with mirth at the idea of finally beating him.
He doesn’t find a similar enthusiasm in it, though. His tune changes almost immediately.
You beam down at him, the words of a taunt on the tip of your tongue, and you notice how his cheeks flare pink. His honey-colored eyes widen and his mouth falls softly agape. He glows red in embarrassment and you think he’s just upset that he lost, but he sounds like he’s panicking. The words rush out of his mouth — “Alright, shit, fine— you win, sunshine. Get off, alright? Off, off, off.” 
His hand swats at the side of your knee to hurry you off him.
“Alright, jeez!” you concede with the roll of your eyes, halfway annoyed that he just can’t let you win anything. “You don’t have to be such a sore loser about it, Harrington—”
You understand his haste in that moment, when you feel him brush your inner thigh. Like, all of him — as in, the boner trapped in the sweatpants he’s wearing, all rock hard and raging in its cotton confines.
Suddenly, you’re just as bashful and panicked as he is. 
Your eyes lock at the rock hard realization but neither of you can think of anything to say.
Do you apologize? Do you act like you didn’t feel anything? Do you trust your voice to make a stupid joke so you can move on and forget any of this ever happened? You’re not quite sure.
And in the five-second silence, Steve just wants to die. Internally, he’s praying for a strike of lightning to take him out on the spot because he’s never been more embarrassed in his life.
He’s certain that he’s grossed you out, or worse, made you irreversibly uncomfortable.
In the mess of thoughts running through his head, he tries to rush out some apology that might soothe the awkward air. Your laughter does all the work for him before he can.
It bubbles like sunshine from your mouth, filling the silence and allowing Steve to breathe again. He finds himself chuckling under his breath with you, though he’s still red-faced about it.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Keep laughing, sunshine,” he chides with the roll of his eyes, though a smile hints at the edges of his mouth. He rises on his elbows to look at you. “What was I supposed to do? Your tits were in my face and your ass was on my dick— sorry for being human!”
“Sorry, alright? I’m sorry,” you manage through hearty giggles. You settle finally at his side and look over at him, still grinning. “Want me to leave so you can… take care of it or whatever?”
He knows you’re joking but he shakes his head anyway. “Nah, it’ll go away. Let’s just… finish this stupid movie.”
“Stupid movie? You picked it!”
“Yeah, so I could see Kelly Lebrock in a bikini!” he argues back, more thankful for the familiar bickering than he ever thought he’d be. “But you made me miss it!”
“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”
“Watch it, sunshine,” he grumbles, half-heatedly. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“I think you’re the one who needs to worry about finishing, Harrington,” you joke and giggle when he shoves you.
You would’ve helped him, if he wanted you to. You know it’s uncomfortable and that it’s partially your fault. You also know that all of those are just excuses to cover up the fact that you’ve always wondered what his cock looks like.
He’d need only ask you, but you know that he won’t.
Even if he did like you in that way, it’d just make things all complicated. And that was totally the opposite of the effortless relationship you’ve developed with him. The kind of effortless where he can be rock hard next to you, and you’ve both decided to just move on from it.
Steve, meanwhile, spends the rest of the movie not watching a single damn minute of it. He’s too busy trying to calm himself down like a teenage boy and figuring out he can get you on top of him again without being too obvious about the whole thing.
He decides he might just start swallowing his pride and let you win sometimes.
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merakidoll · 2 months
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰
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soundgasm! voice actor nanami had to find inspiration for his script somehow. and you just so happened to be the perfect princess- his neighbor.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🎀 ꒱ — warnings : black chubby reader! bimbo reader ( not really mentioned but it’s me sooo duh) infidelity?!! masterbastion ( m & f ). creaming, squirting, nanami has a curveeeeee, voice actor nanami! cum eating, i think nanami’s calls reader princess once! reader x another jjk man ?!? >_< pwp!! 17+ please respect that :)
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🎀 ꒱ — mirahnote! : i got carried away! it took me thirty minutes to write this, that’s how HEAVY it was on my mind. kisses to my bestie and jazz for reading over this for me <33
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“cold” nanami began. “the cold wind blew against the trees. pretty leaves falling yet the man could only focus on the one important attribute.” moving his eyes from the beautiful autumn ground they met yours. your window was open, the cashmere robe hanging off of your shoulders making him eager to see more. “the women was beautiful. one of a kind” he took a deep exhale as you slowly slid the fabric from your naked skin. “her skin looking so soft through the window, so smooth and yummy that my mouth watered- no! the man’s mouth watered, needing to taste it” he groaned at his mistake, but never once lost eye contact with you.
you smirked falling back onto your bed, your legs cascading in the air. a beautiful wet, slimy pussy coming into his view. he could see your hand slide up your legs teasing him. “it took nothing for her pussy to become wet with need. juices dripping from one hole to the next teasing the man in the window.” bringing your hand to yourself, nanami only could imagine the nasty moan that feel from you. “what a needy girl the man thought. he watched how her perfect hands, that had the perfect nails rubbed over her clit. one circle- then another, then her legs began to quiver.” bitting down onto his lips, nanami finally began to give himself the pleasure he had been craving.
slowly undoing his slacks he watched the puddle you began to make on your bed. his curved cock popped out hitting his stomach. he was red in need, pre cum all over himself. gripping his thick dick, he squeezed himself more of him oozing out creating a mess onto the khakis that would be a bitch to clean up. “s-she knew the mind games.” he paused, his hands pumping his length “she knew what he really wanted to see.” you spread your legs wider, using your fingers to spread yourself open. “and she finally-mmm. f-finally gave it to him”as you pushed one finger inside of you. one- but nanami and you both knew that wasn’t nearly enough.
he wished he could see your faces. how you shut your eyes and scrunched your face, but god the view of your fat cunt getting stuffed was making up for it. “there you go — t-the man said. he watched as the second finger b-broke through her walls. fuck princess!” nanami’s balls were so heavy, his cock bobbing in his hands, he was so close - so, so close. “the puddle beneath her g-grew. the man in the window’s cock so painfully hard that h-his vision blurred with each pump to himself.” as you quickened your pace, he matched. you fucked yourself so hard that juices began to squirt out of you.
so nanami squeezed down onto himself, strokes becoming faster and sloppy, “s-so close” he mumbled into the microphone. “soo- mmmfuck there y-you go princess” right as your began to cream all around your fingers. his cum shot out of him. ropes upon ropes falling onto his desk- his microphone. he chanted how much he loved you. how when he had the chance he would fuck your cunt full. his eyes closed, finally losing contact with you and just imagining the blissful dream. taking deep ragged breaths, he opened his eyes. the sight before him pulling at his heart, but shit did it make him hard.
toji stood above you - but looked directly at nanami. with his shit grin he scooped some of your cream off of your sensitive cunt stuffing those fingers in his mouth. “fuck!” nanami spoke into the still cum covered mic. “the man in the window forgot all about her husband.”
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star-sim · 3 months
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exe.enhaboy_stopped_working.exe ☆ ot7
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☆ non-idol! ot7 enhypen x fem! reader ☆ summary: how to fluster your enhypen boy beyond words! ☆ genre: FLUFFFFF, can be interpreted as established relationship or pining stage lolz ☆ warning(s)? made one (1) chemistry reference, mentions of drinking and throwing up lol ☆ word count: 3k words total ☆ today is lunar new year, year of the dragon. happy new years to anyone that celebrates it, may the spring treat us well! take this as a new year charm.
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heeseung ☆ ask him for help
"can you open this for me, hee?"
on it.
"heeseung, can you carry this for me?"
already taking it out of your hands.
"heeseung, how do you do this problem?"
he appreciated that you think he's smart enough to help you with your homework, but truth be told, if you were struggling in this subject, then he'd be drowning.
there's something about the way you look up at him with wide, star-filled eyes, smiling along with your words as you asked him for help.
outwardly, heeseung would shoot you a smirk, maybe even tease you with a, "oh, you need me so bad, don't you?"
but inwardly, he'd be freaking out.
you, the most perfect person in the world, needed his help.
heeseung had always been the baby of his family, and even when he was with his friends, where he was the eldest, he found himself slipping back into the role of being taken care of.
but when it came to you, heeseung was more than eager to be the strong, dependable one.
and you asking him for help meant that you you saw him as reliable, that you could depend on him. it made his chest fill with pride.
but it also made heeseung feel so shy.
did you think of him that highly? he wondered what you thought of him when you asked him to open jars for you. did that mean that you wanted to marry him? you wanted a man that could take care of you right? did that mean that you wanted him?
"hee?" your voice broke him out of his thoughts.
shit. by the way your bright eyes gazed at him, a small smile playing on your lips, heeseung knew that you could see right through his smug facade. if not the red color of his face, or the way his hands gripped the hem of his shirt like his life depended on it, it was probably the way his eyes widened a fraction in sheer panic as he realized that you were chuckling at his dazed expression.
"y-yes?" perfect save.
you laughed, handing him one of your hard-to-open chip bags. "can you open this for me?"
"of course."
honestly, that hard-to-open chip bag was kind of hard to open, but heeseung would never admit that to you.
"thank you, heeseung," you gave him another one of your bright smiles, as he handed the bag of chips back to you, popping one of the crisps into your mouth. "love you."
then, you left.
you were so pretty.
wow.
wait...
LOVE?!
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jay ☆ pull him by the collar
honestly, jay knew that he was being a bit of an asshole right now. he was tired, and so were you, but he tuned you out as you talked to him.
as the two of you stood under the streetlight, waiting for the pedestrian light to turn on, jay's feet ached. after spending an entire day out with you, his good friend, he was exhausted. even if he liked you a lot (a lot), even he couldn't ignore his fatigue.
"jay, are you even listening to me?"
"hm?" did you just say something? he had no idea, getting lost in the blankness of his tired mind.
"i asked you what you..." jay tuned out the rest of your sentence.
when he only nodded blankly, his eyes very clearly unfocused, you let out a huff.
you grabbed the collar of his shirt, harshly yanking him down so that he was eye-level with you.
"i said," you snapped into his ear, your tone annoyed, "what do you want to eat later?"
oh god.
that forced jay awake immediately. if someone dumped a bucket of iced water on him, he still wouldn't be as alert as he was now.
it was a combination of things: the way you gripped his shirt so harshly, the force at which you jerked him down, the way you looked irritated at him, how close your face was to his now... all of it.
jay heard your question, loud and clear, yet he couldn't register it properly, not when you were so close to him. his eyes were wide like saucers, a sudden wave of embarrassment washing over him. his lips parted, in an attempt to give you an answer, only to let out choked out stutters.
"i— w-well..."
you let out an annoyed sigh. you let go of his shirt, pushing his chest away, as you began walking the intersection, as the stoplight changed.
"whatever," you grumbled, rolling your eyes.
jay stood there stunned, under the streetlight as other pedestrians passed by him, watching your retreating back.
he'd always known that he was attracted to you. but this may have been the turning point.
you were rough with him, aggressive even. it made his heart plummet to his stomach.
when he realized that you were a good distance away from him already, jay snapped back into reality. his feet picked up, running after you.
"w-wait!"
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jake ☆ run your nails along him + say he's strong
it was a friendly gesture. because you and jake were friends. and you saw him exclusively as a friend. was what jake told himself.
so why did he feel this way?
the two of you were just hanging out, talking about whatever came to mind, when jake randomly brought up the topic of working out. sure, maybe he was glazing himself a little bit when he was talking about how much he had bulked up in the past few months, especially because he wanted (and needed) to look cool in front of you. he didn't know what he was expecting, but you obviously got curious, asking him with owlish eyes if you could feel his arms.
of course he let you.
you started off with his biceps, feeling the hard muscle under your palms. you gave it a squeeze, giggling when jake flexed his bicep for you. in fact, you now got a good look of his entire arm now.
it was veiny and toned, the type where whenever he did anything you could see the muscle bulging from under his skin. you bit the inside of your lip, before you ran your nails along the length of his arm.
"you're so strong, jakey," you mused into his ear, before your hands trailed up to feel his strong shoulders.
jake froze.
his chest swelled with pride, attempting to bite back a proud grin on his face to stay humble about it, but deep down, he knew that he hoped that you'd say that.
but the worst part was the way your hands had felt on him. when you ran your nails against his arm, a warm chill struck through his entire body. it was such a strange feeling. but he liked it. he wanted more.
feeling the tension in his shoulders, you ran your nails on the back of his neck, fingers brushing up against the muscles on his back.
"relax," you said, and he could feel your breath on his skin.
were you doing it on purpose?
jake felt like he was about to evaporate. you were so close to him, and even if your light touches were friendly, it sure didn't feel like it.
it's safe to say that the moment that you put your fingers in his hair, running your nails against his scalp, jake's soul left his body.
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sunghoon ☆ show some love to his moles
sunghoon wasn't always a fan of his moles as a kid. kids liked to tease him, pinching his skin in an 'attempt' to take the 'speck of dirt' that was his mole off his face. and when he was young, his mom took him to some korean fortune teller, and the moment the lady looked at his face, she pointed out the mole below his temple. "bad luck," she said. even in high school, his classmates would point to the dark mole under his eye and call it Avogadro's Number, because it was a mole. ha ha, funny enough, but sunghoon would only frown.
"did you know that moles are where you were kissed the most in your past life?" you asked him one day. his head was lying on your lap, something that sunghoon had to fight himself to not freak out over.
it was a quiet afternoon, just the two of you relishing in each other's presence.
"who told you that?" sunghoon asked, his hands scrunching up the hem of his shirt. it made him a little nervous, the mention of his moles. what if you didn't like them? "what evidence do you have for that?"
"have some fun in your life, sunghoon." you brought your finger up to poke the mole under his eye. then, you dragged your finger across his face, to trace the two moles below his temples, then to the mole on the side of his nose. sunghoon let his eyes fall shut under your gentle finger.
"i love your moles, hoon," you finally said after a moment of silence.
sunghoon choked on his spit, jerking up to cough up a lung.
love? his moles? absolutely no way!
"are you okay...?!" you clutched his arm as he choked on his own coughs.
when he was finally done coughing up a storm, sunghoon whipped his head over to you, his expression painted with sheer horror.
"why do you like my moles?!" he asked, his tone laced with what could only be called offense (even if he wasn't actually offended).
you shrugged. "they're cute."
"cute?!"
sunghoon's world was crashing upon his shoulders. in a good way.
you didn't hate his moles? and you thought they were... cute?!
his cheeks flared with heat, while his chest filled with warmth. he swallowed down hard, before opening his mouth to speak, yet he couldn't form any coherent words. what he spent his whole life hating was something that you loved.
his hands were getting clammy.
"why are you so surprised?" you nudged him with your foot. "doesn't everyone love your moles?"
"not really," sunghoon frowned.
you stared at his face, assessing him, before you clicked your tongue. you grabbed his head, gently pulling him back onto your lap.
"they're clearly blind then," you muttered. "your moles make you so cute."
you continued to trace his face, connecting his moles together like they were constellations, completely oblivious to the fact that sunghoon was both completely fried in the head, yet still somehow consciously planning your marriage.
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sunoo ☆ take care of him
you and sunoo were just hanging out in your apartment with a few friends, when someone suggested drinking.
and that's how sunoo found himself sitting in a circle, with five or six empty soju bottles in the middle, with the rest of his friends passed out. you were in the kitchen, grabbing a recycling bag for said empty soju bottles.
sunoo was the only one who didn't drink. not even a drop. even when they reassured him that nothing bad would happen, sunoo's resolve stayed. because he had one reason, and one reason only: he said, looked, and did dumb things when he was drunk. even if he had a relatively high alcohol tolerance, sunoo would rather die than run the risk of embarrassing himself in front of you.
you, on the other hand, had a few shots along with your friends, but remained sober.
you came back to where sunoo was, bag in hand. you muttered a small, "hi," at him, before you began collecting the green, glass bottles. sunoo wanted to say hi back, but his voice came out in an embarrassingly small whisper.
"why didn't you drink?" you asked him suddenly, quickly adding when his face pinched, "sorry, i just feel like i've never seen you drink before."
yup, and there was a reason for that.
"it's okay." sunoo only nodded understandingly, hiding his excitement to finally have alone time with you (as if he wouldn't die on the stop right now). "i do dumb things when i'm drunk, y'know?"
you blinked owlishly. "like what?"
sunoo felt awkward. it wasn't like he never spoke to you at all, but just that he felt so intimidated by you and your beauty. how could he not?
though, he couldn't help the twinge of jealousy that seeped into his chest as you brushed stray hairs out of jake's sleeping face, grabbing a pillow off your couch so that heeseung could sleep peacefully on your living room floor.
"i dunno," sunoo shrugged, his eyes fixed on the way you took care of your friends. "last time i drank..."
he trailed off, causing you to turn your head toward him, watching him for an answer.
"... i threw up all over the kitchen," sunoo grimaced at the memory. "it was nasty."
you smiled. "no shame in that. if you threw up all over my kitchen, i would have cleaned it up happily."
sunoo's ears burned. he loved that about you, how you were so willing to help people.
"my roommate wasn't so happy," sunoo frowned. "jungwon yelled at me, even when i got sick the morning after."
you crawled over to him, putting the bottles aside. "well, that's jungwon. i wouldn't mind."
you poked him, nudging him with your foot. "i'd have no problem taking care of you, sunoo."
you met his gaze, your hands reaching out for his, your lips spreading out into a smile.
sunoo flushed.
you? take care of him?
that would be a dream.
he could imagine you ruffling his hair as you tucked him into bed, pressing a kiss to his forehead as you told him good night. the thought of you petting his head, letting him bury his face into your chest after a bad day made him feel dizzy. the idea of being enveloped by your warmth and perfume had him trifling, fighting for his life as more and more thoughts of your tenderness attacked him.
"r-really?"
you squeezed his hand, you other hand coming up to brush his bangs out of his face. "of course."
sunoo was going to die!
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jungwon ☆ eye-contact
jungwon knew that you had a bad habit of looking at people's hair or noses instead of their eyes when you talked, he knew it better than anyone because you'd confided in him about how shy some people made you.
he was happy that you trusted him enough to tell him about your troubles.
and he should now be happy that you felt comfortable enough with him to stare straight into his eyes when you talked to him. and he was. but now he felt like he was going to melt.
were eyes always this beautiful? how come he never noticed the way they shined so brightly, the way they creased into thin crescents as you smiled?
"jungwon, are you okay?" you asked, cocking your head as your eyes innocently blinked at him.
jungwon cleared his throat, sucking in a sharp breath. "y-yeah, i am."
you blinked again, your wide eyes filled with a little concern as they stared straight into his. "are you sure?"
"of course..."
and it was then that jungwon was hit with the realization that he was probably one of, if not the only, the people that got to see your eyes like this.
"w-wait, look at me!" he blurted, and your eyes flickered back to his. jungwon winced at his sudden outburst.
you smiled. "what's up?"
"i.. uhm.." jungwon didn't know what to say. he just needed an excuse to look at your eyes. "you.. uh.. you—"
"what about me?"
"you look really pretty today!"
you blinked slowly. in that moment, jungwon saw the way your eyes darted around his face, running away from his eyes as you processed his words.
you didn't meet his gaze when you said, "th-thanks."
no! did he make you uncomfortable? "wait—!"
as you've told him before, when you got shy or nervous, you avoided making eye-contact.
(if he used his critical thinking a little better, jungwon would realize that he, indeed, just made you feel shy. not because he was making you uncomfortable, because he just called you pretty, for goodness's sake!)
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riki ☆ be mean to him
riki thought of himself as a fighter, the type of person that never backed down in the face of a challenge. sometimes, he did the exact opposite— he liked to fan the flames, letting the blaze that was his friends' anger rise so high that it burned everything around him, all for a little chuckle and a heightened sense of pride.
but as the two of you sat in class, you (who sat in front of him) sent him a glare, your gaze hardening as it met his, followed by your lips parting to mutter a soft, but venomous, "shut the fuck up," riki's breath caught in his throat.
it was weird and uncomfortable, the way that riki's face began to prickle with heat. his ears burned into a red color. he couldn't bring himself to look you in the eye after that.
at first, he thought he was just embarrassed, embarrassed that someone like you had to reprimand him.
but the more that that scene replayed in his head— the sight of you angry and annoyed at him, as poison laced your sharp tongue— the more he felt queasy inside. you looked so... attractive when you were angry at him. he liked the way your eyes were filled with so much displeasure and dislike for him. it made him feel so small, but it made riki's chest pound.
he squeezed his eyes shut, biting down on his lip to suppress a frustrated groan. alas, he couldn't keep it in, as riki buried his head in his hands, fighting off the warmth that was bleeding onto his face, letting out a loud, exasperated sigh.
your head whipped around to him. your brows crashed together, annoyed and irritated by his loudness.
"i'm serious, riki," you spat, kicking him with your shoe. "shut up."
riki flushed.
all he could do was mutter a soft (and slightly-pathetic), "s-sorry."
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becomingmina · 5 months
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Take your own photos, baby. - suggestive and smutty w Felix. 18+ only mdni.
Reader loves Felix a lot ok guys, she’s obsessed with him.
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“Are you jealous?” You tease your boyfriend as you sat on his bed looking up at him.
Felix ignores you and pulls his shirt over his head before throwing it to the side. He leans in and reaches for his towel that was beside you but you grabbed it before he could.
“No, I’m not letting you shower until you admit it,” you demanded.
“So what if I’m jealous?” He responded standing up towering over you.
“I think it’s hot how bothered and possessive you get about my past relationship baby,” you don’t break eye contact.
Something about the way his clenches his jaws, the way his eyes and brows narrowed at you, the way his facial details become more excruciating due to his bedroom lights, it got you feeling excited - a horny kind of excited. It got you in a teasing mood knowing the outcome of his jealousy would be slow and passionate sex - something you loved and craved. You start to feel yourself get wet thinking of how he would devour you.
“Y/n, are you not going to reassure me?” Felix knows how much you love him but he always just get a little jealous when someone brings up you and Minho’s past relationship. It’s natural though to feel that way so you try your best to ease the tension, even if you have a little bit of fun doing it. And Felix never fails to let you know he’s needs the comfort.
“Me and Minho were over ages ago. And I’m sorry you found 1 of the many 600 photos we took while we were together but you should know by now that it means absolutely nothing to me,” you stood in-front of him. Hands landing in his bare body traveling up and down his side before you grip his waist steadying yourself to place one sweet kiss to his lips.
It started with Felix searching in Minho’s dresser for a tshirt he had lost ages ago. But instead of locating it, he found a Polaroid of you underneath the squashed up black clothes. It wasn’t just any photo, it one of the many hundreds erotic and sexual ones you and Minho took while you guys were dating. You both were younger then, it was something you two loved and enjoyed doing then. Minho would have his Polaroid and film camera on stand by, and the second he saw something worth capturing, he would. Needless to say, he thought everything was worth capturing considering how many photos were produced. You two would be so excited when you went to develop the photos, bringing it back to the dorm and curling up his room examining the photos. Minho was your first love and you didn’t regret any of it.. When you both realised you fell out of love, you two agreed that those photos shouldn’t mean anything anymore and it was just a memory of your relationship. A good memory of your good relationship. Minho and you stayed friends, there was no bad blood, no arguing, no fights when you guys called it off. You both clearly loved and cared for each other, and you continue it that way, as friends. Minho was the reason why you met Felix too - your loving adorable cute boyfriend.
Felix examined the photo. You were on your back on Minho’s bed in his white dressed shirt - not covering up anything. You had your legs spread out and your fingers on your clit, looking up at the camera. Minho’s foot was captured in the photo too. Felix felt a sudden rush of blood over this body. He grew numb. Oh how perfectly vulnerable and fucked out you look. He has witness you in the same position multiple times. The blood then rushed to his dick, Felix feels himself heating up. He turned over the photo and notices the initials on the back followed by a heart and numbers.
“ML+ Y/I 2021 🖤”
There was so many thoughts running through his head, he didn’t know what to feel. He understands it’s an old pic but still he was caught off guard. He was jealous. Felix stormed out of his hyung’s room, fist clenching something, making his way over to his room. He felt himself go red.
“You found the shirt?” You asked sweetly as you see him walk by but he doesn’t respond.
“Yongbok what is it?” Minho asked noticing the silence and the way his younger group member becomes tense.
“Nothing,” Felix stops to respond but both you and Minho’s eyes land on his hands. The second you saw the writing on the little piece of plastic, you and Minho look up at each other before diverting your attention to Felix, who was clearly overwhelmed.
“Heh, lucky you found it before one of my hook ups did. Would have been a bigger issue,” Minho chuckles approaching Felix.
“Hyung, why do you still have it?”
You stood up from where you were sitting making your way to your boyfriend.
“I don’t know where you found that but I promise you, it’s nothing now okay. You’re with Y/N, and she’s loves you.” Minho pats his member’s head to reassure him before letting you two be alone.
“What can I do it make up for it?” You ask, willing to do what ever it take to make sure your boyfriend was okay.
“Are you willing to do anything?” His face softens.
“Of course, willing to do anything for you baby,” your hands wrapped about his neck as your move your lip back on his. This time he gives into the the kiss swiping his tongue over your bottom lip and enters your mouth. You both stay like this for a while making you grow needier, moaning into his mouth. He pulls back to breathe.
“Can I keep the photo then?” He presses his thumb against your bottom lip - indicating how much he adores you.
“No, that’s Min’s..” you responded pouting up at him. Felix frowns, knowing youre going to starts teasing him again.
“But I’m your boyfriend now, and you just said you would do anything for me-“ your right arm reaches behind him grabbing his Polaroid camera from his dresser as your free hand grabs the old photo he is still gripping, throwing it aside.
“-Take your own photos, baby,” you handed him the camera. He looks down at the object before meeting your eyes again, this time his pupil are blown wide open at what they’re suggesting.
“I don’t want you getting hard from photos of your hyung’s point to view,” you palmed his boner before sitting back in the bed.
“The point of view is of you anyways so-“
“So you rather collect all your hyung’s old photos than taking some of your own?” You question him. Felix let’s out a airy giggle, he was cute, and you can tell he’s starting to get playful again.
“I never said that,” he chuckles.
“So then how do you want me?” You pull your shirt over your head throwing it with his on the ground. Felix was met with your full perky boobs, perky just for him. God, you were killing him.
“You want me to pose like photo you just saw?” You lift your chin to gesture to the picture on the floor.
“Don’t tell me it was Min’s favourite photo of me too,” you taunt him, biting down on your lips as you start to take your shorts off.
“Was it the one of me naked in his dress shirt with my legs spread-” you begin to describe the photo he just saw.
“Y/N,” Felix cuts you off raising his brows, to give you a warning.
You noticed he started to get a little angsty.
“Then tell me how you want me? How do you want me in your first photo of our collection baby?” You asked, now completely bare only wearing his favourite panties of yours.
“Fuck.. Need in my favourite position baby - squatting cow girl please. Can you do that for me?” Felix replies.
“Fuck, I can. Take off your pants then.”
Um. Just had a thought and I hope you guys like it 🥲
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tiyoin · 2 months
Text
pt 1 | 📍pt 2 | pt 3
“floyd you fucking dick” was all you said when you entered his house. a plastic bag in hand as you looped the car keys around your neck.
the house, bigger than jade’s didn’t have the same aesthetic. instead of presten marble floors, there was black quartz with white streaks and blobs. the house almost reminded you of a deep sea palace instead of a mansion with all it’s colors, architecture, and furniture.
his furniture was all brand new, and there were different family pictures lining the grandiose staircase. mounted in the teal wall were big photos, large photos, and even larger photos.
all leading up to the statement piece of a painted family portrait. from the quick glance in jade’s house, he had one too. yet it was only of him and his wife, while floyd’s was of him, his father, his mother, and jade.
no wife.
“ne, it’s not nice to barge in shrimpy, don’t ya think?” you heard his voice echo from somewhere in the house.
rolling your eyes, your footsteps thundered through the house as you stormed upstairs. you couldn’t help but feel angry. but there were too many things to be angry about. you were angry at floyd for setting this up when he knew about jade. you were angry at his wife, which you shouldn’t be because she’s his wife, which technically makes you the other women. and more than anything, you were angry at jade. for moving on, for doing nothing, for letting her touch him like that…
you clenched and unclenched your hand, now standing in front of the golden lined portrait.
from the looks of it, this was taken years ago, when they were younger. maybe 3 years ago? you weren’t sure. but you were able to make some sharp inferences.
like the ring on jade’s finger, the bags under his eyes, the slight dishevel of his hair.he looked horrible, but to the untrained eye, he looked perfect.
calculating eyes that stared into your soul. it felt like even here he had some kind of hold on you. sly smile, the one he’d get while screwing someone over. and his sharpened jawline only seemed to make the dangerous man all the more siren like.
you lost your grip on your bag, yet that didn’t seem to matter to you as you drank up every flaw, every imperfection the leech brother had. you weren’t sure if you were greedy- after all, you were listing over a married man. yet there was some small part of you that wanted to make sure everything was still there. that he hadn’t changed.
the stray hair in his eyebrow was gone, the slight sneer in his smile was gone- his heterochromia eyes, the thing you loved about him the most- seems almost dull. not full of life and wonder like they were in highschool.
he looked… different.
you frowned.
eyes looking down to the golden plaque on the bottom of the painting. ‘Leech Family’ is what it said, below that it listed all their names.
and yet… “irene is her name”
gasping from shock, you stumbled back towards the painting and saw ja- no, floyd.
floyd was grinning like a sea-urchin as his eyes flicked over your tensed body. “hehe, i forgot how fun you were y/n”
sending his good well, you let your shoulder untighten- only a little bit, as you were in floyd leeches house. alone.
and who knew what would happen.
“what happened to shrimpy?” you fought the cracks in your voice as you cleared your throat, your turn to study him.
you couldn’t tell if he grew taller as he was usually leagues above you in the height department. his hair was still messy, but in a cool, slicked back way… and yet, he wore nothing but red plaid pj pants and an off-white shirt which you knew costed much more than the money you had in your pocket.
his smile sharpened, nothing but pure glee on his features as he stalked closer. “ehh? wasn’t it you who told me to stop calling you that?” he raised his eyebrow in faux thought. even though his finger was tapping against his chin, you could tell from his leering that he wasn’t remotely serious.
“yeah, but that was years ago. and things change”
“like jade?” he stopped once you started craning your head to see him.
“like jade…” you finished softly. unable to meet his unnerving gaze, you ran a hand through your hair, yet every time you tried pushing the strands away from your hair your fingers would get tangled. like a mess of limbs in the sheets-
“heh, shrimpy looks worse than me” his teasing voice softened a bit. although you kept your gaze down, you tried watching his shadow through the floor, tried looking for his reflection-
yet there wasn’t one from how dark, the cold marble was.
a tingle shot through your arms as you felt a large, warm hand on yours. as gently as the merman could, he worked on untangling your hair from your hand. he’d pick at your scalp, caress your locks, even encase his hands over yours.
he’d move your head in every which way as he worked. but he made sure the last view you had was of him, smiling down at you. there was a crinkle on the side of his mouth, one that came with age. yet floyd couldn’t have been past 25. and mermen were known to have fantastic skin.
gripping your wrists, you flinched, eyes looking up towards the crown of your head before returning back to his.
slowly, he lifted them up over your head, his smile never quite waivering. you knew he could sense the internal panic in your bones, the frozen response in your muscles nothing new to him you realized.
thinking about high school days while you were about to get pinned to the wall was counterproductive. gasping a little when your hands made contact with the painting, you stared holes into his exposed collar bone.
he stayed there for a second before he spread your arms. slowly, he lowered them, extended, to your sides. each movement was slow, sensual. intimate.
you shook your heads from the cobwebs.
“eh, seems like you’re in your own little world again” you looked back at his face. the same gleeful expression was still there, yet his teeth were shining through the gaps in his lips.
once he reached your hips he stopped. looking down at you trapped in his gaze.
“i’m glad you’re back y/n” he said, eyes softening just a bit. you could tell he meant it, as someone like floyd was too genuine to lie. too bored to keep up with charades to trick you.
still, you tried budging, tried leaving his grip. yet with every struggle his smile only seemed to grow sharper and grip tighter.
unable to break free from him, you sighed. craning your neck to look at the painting behind you, you stared at him. at jade.
“not sure if i can say the same…”
i don’t think you guys understand how devious floyd is in this mini series. cause oh my god. even tho i wrote this as i came up with it, there’s definitely a few itchings of foreshadowing 😝
potential tag list? :
@hopefully-not @dmiqueles @ryuuisthecutest @kiwibirdmother
i tagged the people who seemed interested in another part. lmk if you want to be removed/ added
i also think this is trash and a quickly put together scenario but i’ll definitely add, and revamp it at a later time
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Text
Casual intimacy
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a/n Cracks knuckles… let’s go… 🙃 I loved writing this so I hope you will enjoyed reading it. Cause this one cracked something deep within me. 🫧🤭
request: Hiii! I absolutely love your work I think you're so talented. If you have time can I request an angsty Ruhn x Reader, maybe he gets jealous or something because she has such a bubbly personality and guys flock to her?
warning: a bit suggestive here and there, alcohol, drugs, smoking.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Ruhn was tired. Playing pretend always drained him. For the most part, he bit back at his father, but even there were limits. And when his father wasn’t at the center of his headaches, the fact that he was a crowned prince was. Ruhn flicked the cigarette out of the open car window as he waited for the light to turn green. “Be on the bed when I get back," he typed out quickly. A slight smile tugged at his lips.
Ruhn imagined that crimson haze creeping onto your cheeks. You had been an angel when you two first met. More like a caged bird. And while the world saw him as a devil who made a good girl go bad, in reality, he had freed you from the chains that had bound you to the dark cell for eternity. And if everyone was having a fright at the sight of a cigarette or a shot glass in your hand, they could all go fuck themselves.
A ding had Ruhn glancing at the screen in his car. "Unfortunately, I won’t be able to oblige," the message read, and Ruhn frowned. He blinked a couple of times. It was usually “you’re an idiot” or a nice picture that sent him pressing his foot just a bit more on the gas. What was the reason for this? Did you get your period? But that wasn’t very likely. Ruhn could sense when the red flow was coming. And you weren’t talking about cramps. He was about to fire out a quick “because?” when another ding sounded. And a picture appeared on the dash. A growl ripped through him. Here you stood. An innocent smile, still in the dress Ruhn had watched you put on this morning. By your side stood Flynn, who looked like a lost dog, glancing at the half-made sandwich on the counter. No, this wasn’t happening. Not tonight.
Ruhn quickly dialed your phone, gripping the steering wheel tightly. You didn’t even get a chance to breathe on the other side as he huffed, “What the fuck?” The music was almost deafening. So was the sea of voices. That scraped like a nail against his mind. “Hey, hotshot, this wasn’t my idea," you chirped, and as much as Ruhn was frustrated, the sound of your voice alone made his shoulders ease. “Tell them to fuck off," he hissed. He should have moved out long ago. Gotten you two an apartment and called it a day. “I can’t do that; I don’t live here." You chuckled softly, giggling at something Flynn said. Ruhn frowned. “You are my girlfriend; you are entitled to do what you want there," he pointed out. You had refused the title. Refused any benefits dating someone like him brought. The doors it opened. It was one of many reasons Ruhn loved you. Because for the very first time, he felt more than his title. More than just a pawn in someone’s game.
"Ruhn, I am not ordering two grown men around," you said, and while Ruhn didn’t agree, he didn’t get to voice his opinion because his words got overshadowed by someone calling for you. “Oh yeah, you can find that upstairs," you said, Ruhn could hear the smile on your face. "Babe," he called out, not loving the idea that someone had managed to steal your attention from him. “Oh, no, it’s okay. Call if you need anything." From the way your voice sounded, he could also tell that you had the phone away from your ear, so he used other methods. Trusted kind.
Y/n. He spoke within your linked hearts. Feeling the fluster in your heart at his call. But his hope got crushed as soon as it bloomed. Give me a moment, Ruhn. Ruhn not even a hotshot, not a babe. Ruhn gritted his jaw. “No, liquor is on the right shelf," you said, as he listened to you try to get through the crowd of people. “Get your legs off the counter, you freak," you hissed, followed by the sound of a chair being dragged back. "Yeah, sorry, the house is full," you muttered slightly under your breath, and suddenly he was back to hating that party. Because you had woken before the sun had even been up. Studies and work keep you busy. Even if Ruhn had told you many times that you didn’t have to work,
“I am sending them to Urd and then fucking back," he grunted, making you let out a chuckle. The sound of it still made his stomach warm. “Light up, they brought shit to smoke," you sighed, and while he enjoyed a good smoke, especially if you joined him, and even more so if you both rode the aftermath together, he just didn’t want that today. “I don’t...", Ruhn had started when a loud bag came from somewhere in the house, and the place erupted in gassing shouts and angry grunting. “Fuck, got to go," you breathed. "Drive, save, baby," you muttered. “Y/N, don’t go near...”, but the line went dead. "Fuck," the princeling hissed. Oh, he was going to hang both Dec and Flynn by their balls, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.
You were nowhere to be seen when he stepped into the madness of the house. Ruhn felt you, so that had to be good enough for now. You were in the house. The question, however, was where exactly that was. "Man, this is sick." Some guy clasped a hand over Ruhn’s shoulder, making the crowned prince bat the touch away stiffly. “Yeah, dude, you’re dope!" the other shouted, his eyes red as fire. There was too much substance in his body. Ruhn frowned, trying not to show the disgust on his face. “Get your shoes off my fucking carpet," he hissed in dismissal, walking past them. His frustration only grew the more he looked around for you. If not for the music, he would reach out through the bond once again. But his head was pounding, and he knew there was no way for him to concentrate enough.
Then Ruhn’s eyes fell on a small group forming near the kitchen. It wasn’t usual. If people did drugs or mixed drinks, they usually went in groups of two. Not a whole fucking sea of them. An itch inside him flared up, and he didn’t even realize it when he started walking towards it.
“So how did you do it?”, a lazy voice asked as Ruhn approached. “I just painted, silly," and that was all it took for his body to ignite. No one even matched the power your light voice had on his body. “Yeah, but that’s one big canvas," another voice slurred. Ruhn licked his lips as he stepped through the arc, and the sight was far from what he had hoped for. There you stood, a white angel in a sea of hacks. Pouncing on you for a nibble.
“I didn’t sleep, I mean," Ruhn watched as a blush on your cheeks. “Colors just guided me. It sounds insane, I know, and no, I was not high," you said sheepishly, making everyone in the room chuckle. But Ruhn saw it. The way they looked at you. They didn’t care about this. Didn’t care about your passion. Didn’t care about the spark in your eyes as you spoke of the things you loved. You were a spectacle. A pretty thing to look at. But it’s when one of them reached out to tuck the hair that had slipped out of your silk bow that Ruhn stepped forward, yanking one of the guys by the back of the shirt as he shouldered past them.
He only managed to catch a glimpse of you inhaling before his hand wrapped around your neck as he pulled you closer to him. Crashing his lips against your red-painted ones. You melted against him. He cared little for anything else as he bent slightly to grab at your thighs, lifting you and guiding you onto the counter as he spread your legs, stepping in between them. Before his fingers found your hips, he pulled you against him. "Ruhn." Your voice was breathy and weak as you wrapped your legs tighter around his middle. “Want to moan that louder?”, he teased, his lips hovering over your neck as he pinched your bum, making you squeal. “I leave you for a day and come to find you in a sea of men," Ruhn hissed with a shake of his head. You knew that it wasn’t anger. It was more lust and that sparkle of possessiveness.
“Jealous much?”, you purred, smirking as you ran your fingers over his jaw. “Don’t play with me, woman," he muttered, his hand once again wrapping around your throat as he inched closer. "Oh," you coo, “I forgot that you’re just a baby." You sighed, cupping his cheeks, but that was short-lived. One moment you were still on the counter, the other in the air and over your boyfriend’s shoulder.
“Ruhn Danaan, put me down." You wiggled in his hands. Tried to hit his chest but for nothing. If anything, that only earned you a slap on your bum and another gasp as your cheeks flared to life with red. “You...", you hissed out, but Ruhn only settled his hand on your ass, keeping the dress over your exposed bottom. Not too keen on others getting a glimpse at what lay underneath. “Don’t finish that unless you want me to spank you again," he mussed, smug as a cat as he moved through the crowd of people.
Whistling met you right by the stairs. One that Ruhn recognized, considering that he stopped. “You two are in deep shit," the crowned prince hissed, throwing a glance at his two best friends. But all they did was laugh. “Fuck it out of him, Yn, please," Dec mussed, grinding his hips in the air. “Suck one-off for the team," Flynn saluted as you three burst into laughter. It appeared that only Ruhn didn’t find that appealing. And something told you that if you weren’t over his shoulder now, friend or not, they might just taste the back of Ruhn’s hand. But he only cursed under his breath. “I will leave you two dickless," he threatened, reaching for the railing as the two man-children moaned and growled downstairs.
Ruhn was breathing heavily when he finally closed the door of his bedroom. It wasn’t from your weight. It just all started to cave in on him as he lowered you to the ground. You nibbled against his neck, pulling away to reach for the hem of your dress, but Ruhn caught your wrist, guiding you closer to him. "No," he muttered. A slight shake of his head told you that he was dead serious, too. “Did you just say no to...", You had started in a teasing tone, but there was something in his eyes that made you stop. "Ruhn," you called out way softer now, brushing your fingers up and down his arms. “Come here, darling," you said, wrapping your arms around him. He wasn’t fully open and vulnerable often. And when he was. That meant that whatever you two were doing, you were the ones who would have to carry the heavy load. Just for a bit. until he finds his footing again.
“If this is about the males, I didn’t even for a second…," you muttered against his chest, but Ruhn only grunted, “I know you weren’t interested. It’s just…” he took a deep breath, “a long day." You knew how much more those three words implied. How much more complex it was. But you also knew that the last thing he needed was you trying to drag it all out of him. “Why don’t you lay down?”, you asked softly, brushing your fingers over his lower back.
“I’m okay here," he said quietly. The hold on your body didn’t ease. “Come on, we’ll lay naked; I’ll roll you a blunt," you poked at his chest, shooting him a loving smile as you wiggled your eyebrows. Ruhn let out a slight chuckle as he reached for the buttons on his shirt. You helped him drag the material off his body, kneeling to undo his shoes. Ruhn caught your chin, pulling your head up so you would look at him through your lashes. "Fuck, it never gets old," he grunted, brushing his finger over your slightly smudged red lip. You only grinned up at him, leaning in to kiss his thigh as you pushed his pants off him all the way.
Ruhn watched you in a daze before you pushed at his chest, sending him sprawled out on the mattress. He drank every movement you made. You reaching for a bag of mirth-root, licking the edge of the paper as you finish the roll. Lighting it up and taking the first hit before handing it to Ruhn. He watched the cloud of smoke flaring around you as you reached for your dress, pulling it over your head. He could very easily die here right now. And go to Urd as a happy man if the last sight he saw was you in nothing but a black thong.
It was this exact casual intimacy that had him running at first. He was frightened to feel secure with someone like that. To have someone trust him like that. Ruhn reached out, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you over onto him. A blunt burning between his teeth. You straddled his naked body with ease. The movement was second nature by now. “What do you need?”, you asked softly, brushing some of the hair away from his face. Ruhn found himself opening his mouth but shutting it closed once more. He didn’t know. He was only aware that he needed you but was not sure how. Bent over the counter? Seated on his face? Snuggled up against him? With you holding him instead? “That’s okay, we will figure it out." You leaned in and pressed a kiss on his chest, leaving feather-like brushes over his exposed skin. “You’ll tell me when you’ll know," you breathed, pulling back up to look into his purple eyes. He didn’t answer, wrapping an arm around your back as he pulled you closer to him. Skin to skin. There was nothing between you two. You rested your face on the crook of his neck, feeling him take another drag of the cigarette in silence. His silence. One that you threaded for him. Painted it. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Ruhn realized that there was no other sound around him, just a steady beat of your heart.
250 notes · View notes
starryeyedjanai · 8 months
Text
sitting between comfort and chaos
steddie | 5.7k | rated: teen
5 times everyone thought Steve and Eddie were dating before they got together + the first time Steve tells someone after they actually get together
happy birthday @legitcookie!!! i hope you had a fantastic day!💗
read on ao3
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1.
Thinking back on it all, Steve thinks he should have known something was up when Dustin started letting Eddie sit up front when he drove them places, a spot reserved only for Robin or Erica when Dustin was riding with him.
Steve has seen that kid - who's not really a kid anymore, he's in college now which is so weird to think about - elbow his friends in the neck trying to get to the car first so he could ride shotgun. So giving up the coveted spot for anyone - even Eddie - should have been a giant red flag.
Steve brings up Dustin letting Eddie sit up front to Robin and gets an eye roll for his trouble.
"What?" he asks. "It's not like it isn't weird. The kid will literally only let you or Erica sit up front and he only lets Erica do it because he's afraid of her."
"Yeah, and he let me sit up front because he thought that we were a thing or about to become a thing or whatever," Robin says, like that explains anything.
"Right," he says, not quite getting what she's getting at.
Dustin knows better now and has stopped bothering them about it, stopped asking Steve when he's going to finally ask Robin out. It only took a million years, but he thinks Dustin gets it now.
He still lets Robin sit up front out of habit - and because Steve refused to start the car the one time Dustin tried to bully his way up front with Robin after figuring out they would never be a 'thing'.
"You know he still kind of idolizes both of you and now that you're, you know-" Robin says trailing off.
Steve lost the thread a little bit, but he nods. "Sure, sure," he says.
Now that he and Eddie are friends, Dustin has stopped bugging them about about each other. Maybe Robin's right. Dustin is still just idolizing Eddie and that's why he lets him sit up front.
Steve still thinks it's weird though.
2.
The first instance Steve can remember something weird happening even before Dustin started letting Eddie sit up front was at a club in Indianapolis.
Robin's sitting in between him and Vickie in the booth, talking about her classes this semester, when she stops short.
"Rob?" Steve asks, and then waves a hand in front of her face when she doesn't respond.
She snaps out of it when he boops her nose lightly. "Uh, um. Don't look, but-"
He immediately looks in the direction she was looking in when she spaced out and tries to scope out what she saw that caught her attention so hard she stopped talking. He sees the crowd of dancing people in his line of sight, but he doesn't see anything out of place.
"I said don't look!" she snaps at him and he turns back to her.
"What? I don't see anything!" he says, feeling chagrined at her snapping at him like that. "You can't say 'don't look' and expect me not to look."
"Just- Eddie's, like, dancing on someone right now," she says, tone almost apologetic.
Steve fails to see what's so special about that. Eddie's always hooking up with someone when he and Steve come out together. He doesn't even think it's the first time Robin's seen it, so he isn't sure why she's so shocked. Vickie has a sympathetic look on her face when Steve glances at her to see if she thinks it's weird that Robin is bringing this up.
"Okay?" he says, voice lilting high at the end like a question.
"And you're okay with that?" Robin asks, her eyebrows furrowing.
"Uh, should I not be? He's always hooking up when we go out," he says, looking back over and yep - he's got his tongue down some guy's throat on the dance floor, the guy's hands gripping Eddie's ass to bring their hips together. Steve feels a ribbon of want float through him - it's been a while since he hooked up with someone.
"So, you've got like an arrangement where you can hook up with other people?" Robin asks, confused.
And Steve is also confused. The way she says 'arrangement' like it has connotations that he should understand. Why would he and Eddie have even talked about hooking up with anyone?
His slightly tipsy brain tries to rationalize it - maybe she's talking about when they go out just the two of them, like if Eddie hooks up with someone, Robin's assuming Steve would be all alone. He doesn't have a problem with it - he's a social butterfly when he's drunk and even if he wasn't, Eddie running off to go dance or make out or hook up with someone gives Steve time to find someone to hook up with himself. It's not like he's ever bored when he goes out with Eddie.
So he tells her, "He can literally do whatever he wants, Bobbie."
She sips her drink and stares at him, her gaze scrutinizing, and whatever she sees must appease her because she drops it and starts talking about her courses again.
When he remembers that conversation the next day, all he can think about is how bizarre Robin was acting.
3.
The next weird occurrence he can remember happening, he didn't even find out until after the fact that something was awry.
He's on vacation with most of the older crew, staying at a house near the ocean, just a small little bungalow, for the week that they're in California.
When Steve and Eddie go to drop their suitcases off in the room Nancy shuffles them towards, they pause.
There's only one bed.
He and Eddie look at each other and Eddie says, "Maybe all the rooms have one bed?"
"Yeah, yeah, probably," he says, dragging his suitcase to the far side of the room.
"We probably shouldn't say anything, right?" Eddie asks, later, before they all head out to the beach. "Like, about the room?"
Steve thinks about it. He knows Nancy is the one who got the keys to the house through her parent's friends and she got here earlier than them and scoped out the place. If there was another option to them sharing the same bed, Nancy would have told them. "Yeah, I mean. It's fine, right? You don't have a problem sleeping next to me?"
Eddie shakes his head. "Oh, of course not. I'm good sharing if you are."
"Yeah, it's no problem," Steve says. He kind of can't remember the last time he shared a bed with someone other than Robin when she stays over at his apartment sometimes.
"Okay, then we'll just. Keep it to ourselves. Besides, I feel like Nancy would skin us if we tried to complain about a place we aren't even paying for," Eddie says with a grin. The perk of Nancy's parent's friend having a vacation house is that even though it's a little small, they let them use it for free. And it's empty because they only use it when it's winter in Hawkins.
"She one hundred percent would," Steve agrees, so they drop it and don't bring it up. Too few beds isn't the end of the world.
Waking up with Eddie's arm firmly wrapped around his waist is fine, nice even. If Steve turns off the alarm that woke him, snuggling back into the embrace, making them both late for breakfast when they finally do wake up, that's no one's business but his own.
-
It's later, after they're home, that Eddie stops by and tells him about the extremely bizarre conversation he had with Nancy the last day there.
He says, "So something weird happened on vacation and I don't know what to make of it and I'm only telling you because you're the only other person it affected," as soon as Steve opens the door.
"What happened," Steve asks, instantly worried. He lets him in and Eddie starts pacing in the living room. Steve goes to sit on the couch.
"So, that last day on vacation, Nancy asked me to come sit on her suitcase because it wouldn't close with all the souvenirs she bought. I went into her and Jonathan's room and there were two beds," Eddie says, stopping in place to look at Steve to gauge his reaction.
His eyebrows shoot up. "Oh," he says. He's really not sure what to make of that either.
Eddie starts pacing again.
"Yeah. So I asked her why there were two beds in their room, but not two beds in our room - kind of put my foot in my mouth if I'm being honest. I didn't mean to just blurt it out, but then she said 'we were just trying to make sure everyone was comfortable'," he says, inflecting his voice higher to mimic Nancy.
"What the hell does that mean?" Steve asks, trying to wrack his brain and see if he remembers her telling him anything about her and Jonathan's relationship being shaky. He thought they were good. There were some rocky times before Vecna, with the distance and everything, but once they were both in the same place again, things seemed to smooth out between them. They've been happy together for years as far as he could tell.
"Exactly!" Eddie says, finally coming to sit on the couch next to him. "I literally asked her what does that mean? Because I had no idea. Still have no idea. She said 'what? It's not like you have a problem sharing with Steve', which honestly something about her tone made me feel like I was stepping on her toes, so I just dropped it. But I can't stop thinking about it. Are she and Jonathan okay?"
"As far as I know," Steve says. "That's so weird. But if there is something happening between them, it would make sense that they'd call dibs on the one room that has two beds. I gotta talk to her and see what's going on."
"Don't, like, tell her I told you or anything," Eddie says to him. Steve still thinks it's hilarious that Eddie is patently afraid of Nancy and her guns, which are mostly retired and locked up.
"'Course not," he says. "I'll just ask how they're doing the next time we hang out. I hope it's something they can get through at least."
"Yeah," Eddie sighs. "If they don't make it, how are the rest of us supposed to have a chance?"
Steve does ask Nancy about it later, just casually asks how she and Jonathan are doing.
She kind of narrows her eyes at him and says they're fine, but her voice is suspicious like she isn't sure what he's getting at. He drops it because he's also a little afraid of her.
The entire situation just leaves him confused, though.
He doesn't bring it up to Nancy again, but he does talk to Robin about it because his conversation with Nancy left a weird feeling in his chest.
"Eddie told me Nancy and Jonathan had separate beds on vacation," Steve blurts out, trying to go for casual, but absolutely failing.
She looks over at him with a weird expression on her face and says, "Yeah, I thought you knew that? It was just how it all shook out. Nancy just wanted everyone to be comfortable." And those words are eerily similar to what Eddie told him Nancy said about it.
He asks, "What do you know?"
"What do you mean?" she counters.
"You know something," he says, narrowing his eyes. "Are she and Jonathan alright? I tried asking her, but I felt like she was gonna bite my head off."
"They're fine," Robin says. "Nancy and Jonathan were just taking one for the team."
Steve's still so confused.
Robin must see the confusion on his face because she grabs his hand and says, "Look, we don't really ever talk about it, and that's totally fine by the way, but we all just want you to be happy."
Steve isn't sure where that came from or what it has to do with Nancy and Jonathan, but he's touched that his friends want him to be happy, he supposes.
4.
It's when he and Eddie get an apartment together that Robin brings up the thing she said at the club, jogging his memory of that bizarre night.
She's helping him unpack his room, putting stuff in the drawers, leaving space in some of them like she expects half of his wardrobe to be filled with something else. He thinks it's just another one of her weird quirks. Does she keep yarn for her knitting projects in half of her dresser or something?
He's hanging some shirts and she's folding his jeans when she blurts out, "You know, you don't have to let him 'do whatever he wants' just because it's what he wants, right? You're allowed to have a say in it too, you know."
It takes him a minute to realize who she's even talking about and even longer to realize she's referring to the conversation they had at the club years ago now.
"What- Eddie?" he asks confused. She nods, so he asks, "Why, because we live together now and that should, like, change something?"
Robin sighs, setting the folded jeans in the drawer. "I just mean, this doesn't exactly seem like the type of thing you'd be into. You've never mentioned wanting-"
He cuts her off, and says, "I mean, it's not like I don't also hook up with people when we go out."
That shuts her up for a solid minute. He watches as she processes it and almost wants to roll his eyes. His friends really think he has no love life whatsoever, huh?
He knows he hasn't dated anyone in a long time, but he's fine hooking up with people when he and Eddie go out sometimes. He can't say he doesn't miss having someone, or being in a relationship, but he's fine for now. He's still young, he still has time, you know?
Robin looks at him and says, "Okay. Okay, if that's something you want. Only if it's what you want, though. Don't just let Eddie talk you into something you don't want to do. Don't let him walk all over you."
"Yeah, of course," he says easily. "And if you're worried about us bringing people back here and it causing tension or whatever, we have rules in place and everything."
Robin says, "That- that's good! Rules are good."
'Rules' might be stretching it, but they did talk about guests not staying for longer than one night and trying to keep it down when they do have guests and that's good enough for Steve.
Luckily, Robin seems content to let him drop the subject and talk about how they're thinking of decorating the living room.
5.
The invitation comes in the mail.
Max popped the question - surprising Lucas, who had been agonizing for weeks over how to propose - a few months ago.
They knew the invitations were coming. Max told him over the phone that they'd be coming soon and that she expected them to send back an RSVP even though she already knew they'd be coming.
Steve checks the mail and is surprised to find just one invitation addressed To Steve & Eddie.
He takes the mail inside and shows the invitation to Eddie, who's eating his breakfast, still a little bleary-eyed and soft from sleep.
He drags the chair at the kitchen table closer to Eddie's chair and drops into it as he watches Eddie frown at the envelope in his hands.
He looks at Steve and asks, "Just the one came?"
Steve nods and Eddie opens the envelope to pull out the invitation.
They look over the invitation and Steve notices the RSVP section doesn't have options to add a plus one for either of them.
"Wow," Eddie says, dragging the word out. "None of our friends think either of us would manage to convince someone to come with us to the wedding, huh?"
Steve hums in agreement. He knows Robin, Dustin, El, and Erica helped Max and Lucas with the invitations and no one saw an issue with this one.
"God, are we both so extremely single that not one of our friends thinks we could find a date?" Steve asks, putting his head in his hands.
"Truly and deeply so fucking single, dude," Eddie says, rubbing a hand over Steve's back to lament with him.
+1.
"Hey, can we talk?" Eddie asks him after dinner one night and Steve's heart immediately starts beating out of his chest.
That phrase, even uttered by a friend, out of blue, makes him think something is wrong. He has the irrational thought that he's about to get friend-broken up with or that maybe Eddie wants to get his own place or something, which would really fucking suck.
They've lived together for a long time and are kind of co-parents to a cat now - it would just be a supremely inopportune time for Eddie to suddenly decide he wants out.
Eddie must see the anxiety in his expression because he quickly says, "No, it's nothing bad. It's just- it's actually something good, I'm hoping."
"Uh, okay," Steve says, wringing his hands a little with worry.
Eddie takes a deep breath and says, "So you know how I haven't really been interested in going out or hooking up lately?"
Steve nods, his heart finally calming down a little. Eddie hasn't wanted to go out lately, but it's fine - Steve hasn't really been all that interested either, more content to just lounge around the apartment with Eddie than to go out and try to meet new people.
"It's because there's someone I'm kind of interested in right now, but I'm not sure if he likes me back. It's a close friend, so I've been debating whether or not to say anything because I don't want to screw things up if he doesn't feel the same," Eddie says.
Steve's eyebrows furrow trying to think of who Eddie could be into. The thought that he might be into Jeff or Grant or Gareth, one of his closest friends, makes something in Steve's stomach swirl. He's not sure he likes that. Eddie dating a close friend, moving out to move in with him, sharing a life with him - that leaves a bad taste in Steve's mouth.
But it's Eddie - and Eddie deserves to be happy - so he says, "I think if you like someone, even a friend, you should tell him. If he's into guys, I mean. He'd be a fool to say no to you, whoever he is."
The smile that lights up Eddie's face is a little painful to see for some reason.
"I was hoping you'd say that," Eddie says.
Steve expects Eddie to get up and leave, to go find whoever it is he's into, but he stays put, on the couch next to Steve.
He reaches out and takes one of Steve's hands in his, still looking at him, like he's waiting for something.
Thoughts churn through his brain, first wondering why Eddie would hold his hand when he's apparently in love with one of his friends, and then realizing that he's probably also in the category of people Eddie considers a close friend and then-
Oh.
"Me?" Steve whispers, eyes wide.
That smile is still there, fond and happy.
"You," Eddie says, squeezing his hand.
"But why though?" he blurts out.
Eddie laughs. "We kind of share a life together, dude. We have a cat together and a home. And like, I don't think I've ever wanted anyone the way I want you, so there's also that."
Steve looks at him and thinks about their friendship up until this point, thinks about them deciding to move in together, to keep the stray cat Eddie found, the natural stop to them going out to clubs and bars in favor of staying in together and curling up on the couch.
He thinks of waking up for a week straight on vacation with Eddie's arms wrapped around him, feeling safe in his arms.
He thinks about the feelings that wrap around his heart and squeeze when he looks at Eddie sometimes.
He thinks about Eddie's hand in his right now.
He squeezes his hand back.
"I did say whoever you were into would be stupid to say no to you," he says.
"You did say that," Eddie says. His cheeks are a little flushed and Steve is overcome with the urge to pepper kisses all over them.
He scoots closer on the couch and says, "I meant it."
Eddie leans in closer and says, "I want to kiss you, but I want to be sure that we're on the same page. Like, it's not just about wanting to fuck you, which I do by the way-"
Steve interrupts and says, "I mean, I kind of got that when you said you didn't want to ruin your friendship if I didn't feel the same."
"Shut up, I'm trying to confess my love to you," Eddie says.
"Love?" Steve teases.
The blush on Eddie's face deepens, spreading down his neck. "Kind of. I mean, I've known you for how long now? I think it's kind of impossible to know you and not love you."
There's heat prickling behind Steve's eyes, embarrassingly enough. "I'm gonna kiss you," he says, instead of addressing how that one line has absolutely swept him off his feet.
He pushes closer, closing the small distance between them, getting his mouth on Eddie's for the first time.
Eddie sighs against his mouth, this pleased little sound that lights Steve up from the inside. He wants to kiss Eddie until he's dazed with it, wants to hear all the noises Eddie can make, wants to draw them out of him with his mouth and his hands.
Eddie kisses him and kisses him and kisses him until his mouth feels tender under Eddie's.
He pushes Steve backwards on the couch to lay on top of him, his hips in the cradle of Steve's thighs. He keeps kissing him as he settles his weight on top of Steve, their bodies pressed flush together.
They lick into each other's mouths for a long minute, just tongues tasting each other and mouths moving together.
Steve is working up the courage to touch Eddie, to put his hands on him, when he hears him hiss in pain. He pulls away from Eddie's mouth and sees Trick clawing her way up Eddie's arm to get on the couch.
Eddie sits up and pulls her off his arm and deposits her on Steve's chest. She immediately steps on his windpipe in an attempt to curl up near his head.
"God, your daughter is so mean to me," Steve says as he moves her off his neck.
"To you?" Eddie asks, looking at his arm to make sure he's not bleeding. "It was my arm that she clawed."
Eddie's still perched between Steve's legs, but with Tricky on the couch, there's no way they can go back to making out.
And-
"I have to tell Robin," Steve says.
Eddie grins at him and asks, "Immediately after our first kiss? You're gonna run over to her place?" There's no judgment in his voice and that makes something in Steve's chest feel tender - that Eddie knows how he is with Robin and isn't weird about it.
"Yeah, it won't take long. I'll be back before you know it." Steve watches as Eddie climbs off him and adjusts himself in his pants. He covers Patricia's ears and says, "Trick won't like it, but when I get back, we can lock her out of the bedroom so she can't interrupt us next time."
"Oh yeah? And what are we gonna do 'next time'?" Eddie asks.
"Whatever you want," Steve says, watching the flush return to Eddie's face.
He bites back a grin and says, "Hurry back. I'll, uh, I don't know. I'll get myself ready or something."
Heat floods Steve's veins. "You gonna be waiting for me with a rose in your mouth when I get back?" he teases, trying to dissipate some of that heat.
"I think you're the roses boyfriend, not me."
"Boyfriend?" Steve asks, standing up from the couch.
"Boyfriend," Eddie says, cupping his jaw and kissing him again. It's easy to get swept up in it, the feeling of Eddie's mouth moving against his, the feeling of Eddie's hands on his waist.
He pulls back from the kiss with a slick noise and says, "I'll be back in like twenty minutes."
Eddie nods and lets him go.
Steve grabs his keys and heads over to Robin and Vickie's apartment where he knows Robin will be.
"Bobbin," he calls out as soon as he opens the door to her apartment.
"In here," she calls back from the kitchen.
He rounds the corner of the kitchen and says, "I'm pretty sure I'm in love with Eddie."
He watches several emotions pass over her face, none of them excitement, and deflates a little bit.
She says, "Okay?" like it's a question, like she's confused.
"Like, we're dating now and I'm. We like each other and I'm pretty sure it's more than that for both of us," he say, hoping to get some kind of reaction from her.
"I don't understand," she says.
"What's not to understand? Eddie and I- we're together now," he says, in case she didn't get it the first time.
Robin squints at him and says, "Okay, but you've never wanted to talk about it before. What's changed?"
"What do you mean, what's changed? We kissed and he said he was confessing his love to me. I thought you'd be happy?" His chest feels a little tight at the thought of Robin not approving. He really thought she'd be happy.
"Did you, like, break up and not tell me? Why would him confessing his love to you warrant a house call? Where is this coming from?" she asks, and Steve's moment of hurt is replaced with a deep sense of confusion because they are somehow not on the same page about this.
What the hell is she talking about?
"Rob, what do you mean break up?" he asks, feeling off-balance.
"I mean, you and Eddie have been together for years nowso I'm not sure what you're talking about." She looks in his eyes and then lights up. "Oh, are you trying to tell me you're exclusive now? That's exciting!"
Steve just stares at her for a minute, memories of the weird things his friends say to him and Eddie and the weird things that happen coming rushing to the surface. The weird conversations he's had with Robin over the years, feeling like they were talking about two different things. The first vacation where they shared a bed together even though there was a room with two beds, and how it happened again the next time they all went on vacation together. Dustin letting Eddie sit in the front seat of his car. The one, singular wedding invitation.
He's not even sure how to broach the fact that his friends all apparently thought he and Eddie have been together for years, but he says, "Eddie and I weren't dating before now. We literally just got together. We, like, literally just had our first kiss less than fifteen minutes ago."
"That's not funny, Steve. You guys have been in each other's pockets for closing in on five years now," Robin says, coming to sit on a bar stool at the kitchen island. "You, you live together and have a cat together."
He can see her mentally going through all the things she thought about them as he comes to sit next to her.
He gently says, "We weren't together before. We were only friends before today. I'm not sure what we did to make you think that we were together, but you know I'd talk to you about anyone I was dating, even Eddie."
"It's not just me!" Robin says, looking at him again with a piercing stare. "It's everyone! We all know. Or we thought you were together. I'm so confused. How is it possible that you've never kissed before? Like, wait a minute."
She stops talking and puts her head in her hands.
"What are you doing?" he asks her when she doesn't say anything for a couple minutes.
She pinches the bridge of her nose as she says, "I'm trying to channel my memories. Because there has to be a time where I asked you point blank if you were seeing Eddie and you said yes."
"I can guarantee you won't find that memory. Because it doesn't exist. Because Eddie and I weren't dating. Until now," he says.
"You went to Max and Lucas' wedding together!" she says, looking at him triumphantly.
"Not really," he says. "We thought everyone just thought we were both terminally single or something and that's why they sat us together."
Robin smacks her hand against her forehead. "This makes no sense to me. Wait, I asked you if you were in an open relationship before! We talked about it at the club and again when you moved in together. How do you explain that?" she asks.
"That time at the club, I thought you were talking about him ditching me to hook up. It didn't bother me. That's literally all I said. Not that we were in an open rela- wait, you really thought I'd be in an open relationship with someone?"
"I know! It never made sense to me! You're like the most monogamous person I know," Robin says. "Okay, I get that we crossed wires there, but what about when you moved in together? I talked to you about it then too. You said you had rules about hooking up."
He can see how saying that might have been misleading. He says, "I meant like, rules about keeping it down, not about us dating and hooking up with other people." He feels a headache coming on.
Robin looks just as exasperated as he feels. She looks like she's grasping at straws when she says, "You're always together and you touch each other all the time. When I've seen you cook together, you're always bumping his hip or hand-feeding him extra ingredients."
"We live together, of course we found a groove cooking together." he says.
"A groove, okay," she says, rolling her eyes. "But even before then, you were always hanging out."
"Because he's my closest guy friend? Closest friend in general other than you," he says, still so unsure how he missed his entire friend group thinking they were together.
Steve doesn't know how this happened - how all his friends could have thought they were together when he didn't even know how he felt about Eddie until today. How could he have missed this?
But listen.
Steve has never claimed to be a smart man.
If anything, he thinks Eddie should have caught on long before he ever did, so he's holding strong that it's not his fault he didn't see the signs. If Eddie couldn't see them either, how the hell was Steve supposed to be able to?
"And now you're boyfriends," Robin says, pulling him out of his thoughts.
"And now we're boyfriends," he agrees.
She grins over at him and says, "That's the first time you've said the b-word. This is the first time we've talked about it and you said the b-word. You really weren't dating before now."
He shakes his head. "We really weren't. And I seriously can't believe you ever bought me saying we were in an open relationship. It's like you don't know me at all," he says with a sniff.
"No, I was extremely confused about it, but you were happier with him than anyone else I've ever seen you with, so it didn't matter what I thought, you know?"
Steve's face smooths out at that and his heart melts a little. He loves her so much.
He hugs her to his side and she playfully shoves him away.
"I can't believe I've had it wrong - we've all had it wrong - this whole time. The more I think about it, though, the more it makes sense that you weren't together. Like, I expected you to be talking about him all the time, but you never really gushed about him to me. At first, I thought it was because it was your first boyfriend, you know?" she says.
He nods. He can get that. What he can't get is- "You were okay with me not talking about him, sure. But you really think I wouldn't kiss a guy I was dating in front of you? Or hold his hand?"
Robin shrugs and runs a hand over her forehead like she's getting a headache from thinking about it. "I thought you were just shy at first. Again, the boy thing. And then it was just habit not to or maybe Eddie wasn't into PDA- I was just guessing. And, I, everyone thought it, so it's not just me. You guys literally adopted a cat together, how were we supposed to take that any other way?" she asks in an exasperated tone.
"She's Eddie's, technically."
"You're telling me Patricia's not your daughter?" Robin asks.
"No, she is. But Eddie's the one that found her, so I'm just her step-dad," he says.
Robin stands up from where she's seated and says, "See! You say shit like that all the time and expect us not to think you're dating him?"
He winces. "Yeah, I kind of see it now. Well, good news is that we are dating now and I'm gonna go home and fuck him about it."
Robin rolls her eyes. "Christ, I can't believe I ever thought you could be dating him and be anything other than like that about him."
"Oh Robbie, when we come up for air, you're gonna wish we weren't like that about each other. Apparently, we've got like five years of PDA to make up for," he says with a grin.
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Text
please don't kill me mr ghostface (part 1)
(AO3 Mirror), (Main Masterlist), (Kinktober '23 Masterlist)
(Part 2 - coming soon!)
pairing: stalker!Miguel x f!reader, slight yandere undertones. (he's a murderer lowkey but very gentle and sweet and scary hot that's all guys I promise.)
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summary: murders on campus. the odd toothbrush goes missing. what's new, honestly. life keeps ticking and you end up at a Halloween party somewhere you shouldn't. there, you meet a gorgeous man in a strange mask. he seems sweet, and all you're looking for is a bit of fun. what could go wrong?
warnings: 18+ , fingering, anal play (mig eats ass, send tweet!) , rimming, p in v, soft dom mig, some switchy + needy behaviour, mild threat of violence (not by mig), alcohol consumption. Minors DNI
a/n: 5k words of ignoring red flags. girl get a grip!
wc: 5.2k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You look too good to feel this shitty. 
That's the thought you're left with, picking at flimsy spiderwebs draped on a sofa. Sandwiched between two couples making out like their life depends on it, of course, but that's beside the point. 
“Someone said there's CCTV of a guy walking out the building at 3am… seems a little convenient, if you ask me…”
There's a TV on in the background, barely cutting through the dense chatter. By this point, your eyes have glazed over, trying not to let them rattle around in your skull. Drunken conversation around you, and it's the same thing as always; long, winding tales of a campus killer - the kind out of a cheesy slasher. What the news says, officially, is that there weren't any links between those 3 bodies that turned up out on the playing field, an empty dorm, a supply closet; but it hasn't stopped people from indulging in wild speculation. 
“No, no, she just didn't turn up to my Econ class….I swear–” 
Stay in pairs. Don't walk alone at night. Whilst you think it's all tangential at best, you're not one to tempt fate. The gossip, you could do without. But it doesn't hurt to keep yourself safe, pepper spray nestled in your usual bag. 
Tonight, however, you've left it at home, thinking the friends you came with would be enough. Somewhere, somehow, they're off chugging shit beer and you're milling about the place and sinking into couch cushions. There's something sticky by the seat, and there's a crackle as you're jostled - the sharp edge of a stray elbow almost knocks your drink away. 
Fuck.
For one night only, you're a cheerleader. A short, short skirt and little top; it has you feeling overdressed. Even though you've left the pompoms at home, next to your taser; seemingly, you've read the mood wrong - stupidly assuming people would dress up for a Halloween party. As you make your way to the kitchen, tugging down your skirt here and there, that's all you can see; half-hearted costumes - cat ears, white sheets and flimsy masks. It feels like you stick out in comparison. You've gone all out, with nothing but the threat of a beer sodden lap for your trouble. 
It's a big house. Alpha-delta-phi, kappa-something-or-the-other; a frat with too much money and too much time on their hands. With all the doors you walk past, shallow thuds and thumping ringing out behind them, you're as good as lost. The best ragers this side of campus - as raved about by one of your friends. It feels like bucketfuls of horseshit right now, wandering around packed halls - and oh. Is that the same staircase? 
“ Fuck, watch it!” You clatter into the side of an arm, a t-shirt with a superman symbol emblazoned at the chest. He's pretty, but his features curl into a sudden sneer. 
" Sorry –" You start but he doesn't let you finish, wagging a thick finger in your face. 
There's a girl draped on his arm, merely watching as he shouts; loud over pumping music from the next room over. 
"Hey, dipshit , you gonna keep staring? Mouth open like a fucking fish– do you know how much this shit costs?" Your eyes are wide, as he gets closer - stinking of alcohol and pot and God knows what else. You're not drunk enough to entertain this, shirking away from confrontation. The room is hot, his breath is sticky , and–
He grabs your arm. Immediately you're trying to wrench yourself away, not daring to look into blown pupils. Clammy, his grip tightens on bare skin and your stomach churns. He's solid, bigger than you and unable to keep the anger out of his voice…. and fuck. You're scared. 
Fear, rising like bile at the back of your throat. Bitter and sharp, fear at the fact that there isn't anyone to help; that everyone else looks away and pretends that this isn't happening. Fear at the spittle that sprays from his mouth like poison, stinging skin. You screw your eyes shut, expecting a slap, a blow, or something worse and then… 
Thud. The hand around your wrist is no more, replaced by a gentle pat on your shoulder. Nothing lingering, just a light touch to get you to open your eyes; to see that guy on the floor, clutching at a swollen jaw and split lip. 
"You okay? " 
It's deep, muffled by a mask, and the figure in front of you has to crouch to be heard over incessant chatter. 
You're nodding, sheepishly, not trusting yourself to keep that edge out of your voice. 
Ghostface, the masked man, the only other person at this party properly dressed up; he only cocks his head in a gesture that says a thousand words. His robe pools around his wrists, thick fabric that you grab onto without thinking, grip just as tight as your would-be assailant. You don't even want to think about it, what could've happened if someone hadn't stepped in. It has you biting back tears, more shaken than you'd like to admit. 
"H-Hey, hey, easy…" He's rubbing little circles into your shoulder, hesitant. Your lip wobbles, ever so slightly, but he catches it, gently pulling you aside. 
There isn't a crowd. The stragglers, those that saw the display, barely look at the guy on the floor, scrambling to his feet and far away. In the meantime, you fight off tears and force yourself to flash a shaky smile. 
"Good. " You croak, taking his hands off your shoulders. "F-Fuck , I mean… I'm good. Thank you."
He doesn't quite budge, giving you that strange look again. At least, you think so, rearing up to his full height to cross his arms. Quiet incredulity, almost cartoonish, and it almost makes you laugh. Almost. 
"Let me get you a drink… some water, or something." He says, stretching out a gloved hand. Sensing your hesitance, he quickly adds, "... Please ."
Chewing your lip, you only have to think for a second before taking it, and you're led out through double doors. Your masked man is big; broad shouldered and hulking, cutting through the writhing mass with ease. It's just as well, you think, unable to sort through the tangle of things that rattle around in your head. You hate this fucking school, sometimes. Boys will be boys. Wear more appropriate clothing. Well, wasn't she just asking for it?  A culture of inaction; of hand-wringing and hand-waving… passing on the blame until three dead bodies show up on campus. 
That's one thing you have to thank the so-called serial killer for, at least. At least something might actually change around here. 
Empty, the kitchen is a mess, but nothing you wouldn't expect. Drink long gone; a distant memory spilled on a carpet, somewhere; you perch awkwardly around a counter, not knowing where to put your hands. Rattled, you've resorted to a glassy stare; stewing and festering and thinking so intensely it might frighten off your masked man. 
It doesn't. He merely taps you, a gentle elbow to your side and he offers you a glass of water. Weakly, you give him a smile, gulping up the liquid. 
"You here by yourself ?" He asks, muffled by plastic. 
You can't help it, eyes wide at the implication - a masked man, a killer on campus - and he must realise the way it sounds. 
In no time at all, he clarifies, "I just mean… fuck … is there someone I can call? So you're not alone."
It's a kind gesture. Kinder than you'd expect from a stranger. Slowly, you shake your head. 
"They ditched me about an hour ago." You give a bitter laugh. "Just me and you, Mr Ghostface."
And with that he laughs; deep and sonorous, causing heat to bloom at your chest. Despite yourself, you smile, and you swear you see a glint of something behind the mask. 
It has you itching for a drink. All of a sudden you make your way across the room, swiping at empty beer bottles and cans, rummaging around for some hard liquor. When you find it - a half empty bottle of something that smells like carpet cleaner and acetone - you're taking a swig, and offering it to the man across from you. It's sneaky, but you don't think he clocks your paltry attempt to see what he looks like under that mask. 
He shakes his head, hands up in defeat. 
"You sure?" Your voice is lilting, hazy around the edges. Creeping up closer, you press your body to his, taking another unceremonious gulp. Under that cloak - heavy, somewhat well made - you can feel him, lean and cut muscle that tenses as you get closer. 
Batting your eyelashes, you make full use of the cheerleader get-up, snaking a dainty hand to his side, and then up to the counter. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was ogling you, chest taught and tight at the way you feel against him. 
Or maybe, he's bored as shit. You wouldn't know - with the mask, and all. 
Wobbly, you clamber up onto the counter, helped up by a gentle hand at the small of your back… and oh. You like that: big, thick fingers that press into you, carefully tracing your waist… and why won't they go down a little further? Grab handfuls of the flesh at your thighs, your ass, everything in between? 
He's too conservative for that, you think. Nervous, too. Nevertheless, he slots between your thighs, big palms flat next to your ass. 
"I… I don't mind watching." He says, voice low. 
It makes you giggle as you drink, sweet and soft, and liquid dribbles past your lips, down to collarbone. Mr Ghostface is gentle, tracing a finger across the juncture of your neck, light pressure on the vein that sits nice and pretty at its side. 
It goes to your head. The alcohol, the large man of few words with a hand on your neck. When he finishes swiping at the liquid and pulls his hand away, you curl your hand around his, bringing it to your lips. Pert lips wrap around his finger, tongue swiping over leather, and you swear you can hear his breath hitch - heart clearly skipping a beat. 
"Careful…" You say, leaning forward to press your tits against him, brushing away imaginary fluff from his shoulders. "I really like this costume."
"I like it too." He clears his throat. "You look nice."
"Nice? Is that all I get, Mr Ghostface?" You're teasing, tracing up his broad chest to his neck and then just under his chin. Carefully, you hook a finger under the thin strap of his mask, tugging ever-so gently. 
Quickly, he stops you. 
"Not yet, sweetheart."
You pout, flashing him a frustrated look - and God , does he want to kiss it off of you. 
"But soon?" 
"If you're good." You swear you can hear him smile, hands wrapping around your waist. 
You get a bit bolder, hand tracing up his sleeve, clutching at thick, corded forearm. Watching intently as he keens, pushing you to the edge of the kitchen counter with only one hand at your back. This close, you even like the way he smells, like rust and oil and earth, the way he feels around you; strong arms caging you in, protecting you. You feel safe, for some reason. 
When he sighs into you, exposing a sliver of tan neck, you feel your knees go weak - unable to stop yourself from mouthing at it, pressing little kisses into the skin. He seems so sensitive, rocking into the counter for some pressure already, clutching you closer and closer until there's a hickey blooming just under sharp jawline. 
"Fuck- " He hisses, pawing at your waist a little more desperately. 
Suddenly self conscious, you separate with a wet smack, and inspect your handiwork. 
"Shit." Eyes wide, you press a finger into the flesh. Your masked man winces. "M'sorry. Got carried away."
He heaves, placing his head on your shoulder for a moment, trying to catch his breath. 
"It's fine," He strains. "Don't worry… s'fine."
Admittedly, he doesn't seem too fine, adjusting what feels like a painful hard-on beneath a loose cloak. 
Cradling his head so he can look at you, you whisper something bold, even for someone who's downed more than a couple shots worth of cheap liquor. 
"I know somewhere… I-I think … that we could go if you wanted to…" His head lolls, and you hear him swallow roughly. "Somewhere quiet . We'd be alone. Just us."
A beat passes and you think you might've read this wrong, much too forward for your own good. It’s why he surprises you by nodding - slowly, at first, and then with more conviction. Taking your hand, he snakes it under his mask, and you almost gasp when you feel soft, plump lips at your knuckles and palm, pressing shaky kisses to the skin.
“I need to do something first.” He says it so quietly, you almost miss it under the mask. “Where can I meet you?”
You don’t ask questions. 
“Pool house.” You nod towards the windows, overlooking a sizable pool. People mill about its edges, but you know the little house is off-limits for the night. “Side entrance. They… leave it unlocked, sometimes.”
He doesn’t ask questions. 
Before he goes, he snakes a hand under your skirt, giving your ass a sizable squeeze - leaving you breathless. 
You don’t feel the cold as you slip out, playing with a loose thread at the hem of your skirt. The side entrance is stiff but unlocked, and you duck past a screen, head on a swivel. Like a good girl, you sit on plush cushions, thighs pressed together to relieve a pressure that has been building since you met your masked man. And you want to touch yourself; to circle that little bud with clumsy fingers, imagining it was him.
You wait. And you wait. You settle between the cushions, adjust your skirt, look at your hair through a makeshift mirror - the glossy surface of windows overlooking the pool. Not wanting to risk turning on the lights, you wander past what little streams in from across the pool; flashing and pounding with the heady bass of music. You can't help but wonder where he's gone, if he's even coming, and what he had to do so desperately that he'd leave you wanting more. 
At this point, you don't even care if he takes off his mask. You don't want to know a name, or see the real man underneath the costume. You just want him; writhing underneath as you bounce on his fat cock. 
"Hey." 
That voice makes you jump, swiveling to face him. How did he get in without you noticing? He was so quiet, so–
"Missed you." He says it so soft, it makes you melt, walking slowly towards him. Shrouded in shadow, as you get closer you notice he's shed his cloak, donned in a white t-shirt and straight leg jeans. Big boots, thick with fresh mud, thud onto the tile. When you meet, two figures cut by bright light, you almost gasp. He's taken off the mask. Instead of Mr Ghostface, you're met with a man - and he is so, so beautiful . 
Tan skin. High cheekbones, a jaw that could cut glass. His hair is haphazardly slicked back, fluffy and curly in all the right places. But it's his eyes: mischievous and glinting and serious all at the same time - absolutely gorgeous. You could look at him like this forever; chest heaving, messy, out of breath. 
Your hand comes to his chest. He’s hot to the touch, clasping his great big hand atop yours. Squeezing, he pulls you closer, other hand creeping up bare thigh, before hooking under your ass in a move that makes you squeal.
From this close, his lashes look so pretty; wispy and romantic and yearning.
"You look beautiful.”  He doesn’t kiss you, not yet, content with only watching - studying you with sharp eyes. “Always do."
All you hear are the compliments, too tipsy to notice what the stranger implies. You're not usually one for a one night stand, but he is intoxicating - intense in a way that's hard to explain. 
Carding one hand through the curls at the nape of his neck, you press your lips to his in a kiss that starts off sweet and quickly deepens. He is hungry and devouring; licking up your moans with plump lips. 
You lead him to the sofa, only separating for fleeting breaths. Eyes low, illuminated by a flash of light here and there; you force yourself to concentrate on him , shuddering breaths and all. He’s hard, rocking into your lower half splayed out beneath him and arms caged around your head. It’s sly, but you snake a hand past his t-shirt, across his back and then fumble with the belt. It makes him smile, soft laughter spilling into your parted lips; before he sits up above you.
“You want it that bad, huh?” Windswept, he croons, batting away your hands to unbuckle the clasp himself.
You groan, shifting upwards. You don’t notice the way his eyes dart down, eying up the peek of thigh that spills out of little shorts. 
“Say it f’me, sweetheart.” He hikes up your skirt, exposing your covered cunt. He’s gentle, pawing at the flesh, pressing the heel of his palm right above your clit.
“F-Fuck!” The pressure is delicious, and you roll your hips up, up, up; chasing some semblance of relief. When he stops, you whine - clutching at his forearm, frustrated. “Want it, please .”
“Want what?” He prompts, lifting his shirt over his head in one quick movement. You’re met with the wide span of his chest, muscle taut and tight above you.
“Want you in me. I want… I want you to fuck me ‘til I break, pound my fucking hole so hard I can feel it in the morning. I want– ”
You’re babbling, now, spurred on by the way he tugs off black shorts, lifting up your legs to slip them off. He’s too slow, clearly enjoying watching you squirm and writhe. 
“You can have it, sweetheart.” He coos, before capturing you into another kiss. This time, he separates and you follow him up; finally parting with a wet smack. “I’ll give you whatever you want, however you want it… but you gotta do something first.”
“ Anything .” You breathe.
“Fuck yourself, for me. I…I–”
“You like to watch.” You finish it for him, breathless.
“Please.” His head dips low; big, red-brown eyes never leaving yours. 
The way he says it leaves you panting, hung off of every word. And you croon, leaning back into couch cushions, already hot at the way he kneads his thumbs to the flesh near your pussy. This close, he can see the way your cunt pulses, eating up a tiny thong between glistening lips. He’s kneeling on the floor, now, snaking his body around to get a perfect view, flashing looks between both your pretty lips. 
More than willing to oblige, you pat at your clit, sending sweet pleasure coursing through your lower half. Even though your legs tremble, he holds you down, placing gentle kisses to your inner thighs. Slipping your thong to the side, you dip two fingers past your slit, gathering up slick to press carefully into your hole.
“So… so pretty. ” He sighs, not daring to close his eyes despite the pleasure he feels. When you notice how his other hand is buried in his pants; jerking up and down to match your pace. You start slow, for now, pumping two fingers in and out, heel of your palm snug against your clit. The sounds are obscene, the wet schlick-schlick ringing out in the quiet room. 
“Prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever s-seen.” Your stranger moans, slathering over your thighs with sloppy kisses, occasionally swiping at your knuckles. Lower and lower, as you get faster and faster, his tongue makes you feel amazing. You’re close - entranced by your spot in the limelight and the sharp eyes that watch every ministration. 
It’s only when you’re knuckle deep, well and truly fucking yourself ; chasing something just out of reach with his help; when two things happen, catching you by surprise. The first, the one that sends electricity down your spine, that makes you jolt and shiver and almost cum right then and there…
…is a wet kiss pressed to your asshole. He slathers and slobbers and licks large stripes up and down; ripping a great moan out from you. He doesn’t stop there, spreading the globes of your ass to delve deeper, tongue-fucking you as your hand stills - unable to concentrate on anything else. Pornographic, he humps his lower half to the same pace, sealing his mouth over your hole. With the vibrations of his moans sending pleasure straight to your clit, you finally cum - a rolling, bubbling orgasm that ends just as intensely. 
The second thing that happens, just as you fall off the edge, is that you’re plunged into darkness. The lights from across the pool, once bright and flashing; are cut off. The music stops, and chatter dies down. Your stranger holds you through it, licking up cum from your neglected cunt, whispering sweet things into the skin.
“There it is, baby. Nice n’ slow.” He soothes as you whimper, hand tight in his hair. 
In the dark, you’re heaving, feeling him slow down as your cunt clenches around nothing, empty. Shaky, you sit up on your haunches as he follows you up.
“Is everything…? What happened?” You’re a little panicked, shaken up from your orgasm. 
“You’re okay, you’re okay. ” He rubs little circles into bare skin. “Too much?”
You shake your head, nuzzling into him. He gives your forehead a kiss, and you feel warmth bloom across your chest.
He shifts. “Just give it a…”
As if on cue, a generator whirs to life, flooding the little room in red light. Something similar seems to happen across the pool, as you take a quick glance to the window.
Your head is a little fuzzy. It aches as you catch his eye, looking at you intently.  
“Do you want to stop? We don’t have to–”
“No.” You say it resolutely, with so much force it even catches you off guard. “I want to.”
“Fuck.” He mutters, brows pressed together imperceptibly. 
For someone you’ve just met, he still looks at you like ice about to melt, like he’s bearing witness to the last breaths of a dying star. He looks at you like he knows you; like he knows how many half-truths and one-night stands you’ve had to endure. It makes you shiver; here, bathed in crimson light, pressed against one another.
He starts with your lips, a gentle thumb pressed flat, and then deeper, deeper, deeper. It’s like before, you realise, the taste of liquor and leather long gone. He keeps his eyes on you, careful as he pops the thumb out, groaning at the length of spit that comes with a flash of your pink tongue. You splay yourself out underneath him, drinking in the sight above; your stranger, your masked man once upon a time, shirtless and breathless and rock hard against your cunt. Now, he tugs down black boxers, its band cut across his torso just so. Thick hair; dark, curly, neatly trimmed; and you reach to trace down his happy trail, to get a hand on his pretty cock.
He just watches , eyes dark, leaning forward to rock into your soft palm and put his mouth on the skin that pillows out from a tight crop top. To give him more access, you tug it down, exposing sensitive nipple. And then that tongue; searching, inquisitive, precise; wraps itself around the flesh. You keen - a pretty moan that has his heart fluttering and eyes clasped shut.
“Inside.” At first, it’s a whisper, said in the throes of deep pleasure. You repeat it, slowing your hand at his cock. 
When he doesn’t answer; still slathering at your tits, pawing the flesh that spills out from your costume; you tug, a sharp thing that has him moaning and sitting up on  his haunches.
“Said I wanted you inside, baby.” You say - and his breaths are deep, his eyes are wild. “Do you want it? Do you want me?”
“A-Always….course I— ” He stops himself, chewing at the inside of his cheek. Finally, he nods and you continue, satisfied.
“Watch.” You titter, reaching down to line him up; carefully gathering slick up at the head of his cock. His tip weeps; shuddering like your stranger does above, getting close and hitching up you up to stay flush against you. His eyes stay trained downward. Inside, he mouths at your neck, groaning once his cock sinks into your fluttering hole.
There’s a tightening grip at your hips, big hands bunching up the skirt to keep you close, with a careful pressure at your clit. That sends heat coursing through your veins, tasting deep crimson in the air. He fucks; up close and humping like he wants to crawl into your skin, with a fervour you’ve never encountered before. It has you hot and sticky, desperate for that biting edge that keeps slipping from dainty fingers. You start to put a hand at your clit, tracing between your bodies when a strong hand pulls it away. Firm.
“No, no, no…” He whispers it, putting your wandering hand to his face, kissing the palm.
“Please. ” You whine. “M’close. So close.”
You feel him twitch inside, hips stuttering at your tone.
“No.” He says it again, resolute. “I’m going to make you cum. Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart… just… just be patient. Please. For me .”
You’re reaching up for a kiss, of which he obliges. This time, it stays sweet; pink tongues swiped over lips.
“Look at me.” His hips shift, changing angles to hit that sweet spot like you’ve been moulded to his dick - like he knows just where to touch you to make you fall apart. “Look at me, hermosa. Ohh f-fuck, you take me so well… so pretty. You gonna milk my cock? Feels so good around me, sweetheart, like you were made for me. Like we’re ... L-Like–”
You groan, unable to tear yourself away from his writhing form: strong, lean muscles, tensing in the red light. And oh, isn’t he pretty, mere moments away from release, from spilling thick cum inside you.
“M’gonna–”
“I know, I know, hermosa. ” You like the way he says it, rolling off his tongue like honey; treacled and sweet. “Cum f’me, sweetheart. Want to feel you clamp around my cock. Cum for me. ”
And just like that, you’re gone; nails digging into his back as you careen off a steep cliff’s edge. Your stranger quickly follows, pulling out to wrap a tight hand around the base of his cock, spilling onto your stomach as you clench around nothing.
You’re whining, getting ready to complain; why hasn’t he come inside? why doesn’t he want to stay?; when he stills, settling by your side. Propped up by one arm, he crouches down to stroke at your cheek, to touch your jaw, moving your head this way and that - as if he’s looking for something hidden behind bright eyes.
In the red of the emergency lights, you suppose you’re looking for something too. A beat passes, and then another. The generator splutters, whirring and coughing. The lights turn off; replaced by the noise and white lights from across the pool.
So lost in one another, you hadn’t quite noticed; everything else falling away. 
He clears his throat, clambering off of the sofa and tugging up his trousers. Quickly, he returns, a bundle of towels draped across his bare shoulders, and then he wipes off the cum - gently, separating sweaty limbs. Your costume is more or less intact, but you’re unable to do more than just lay there. He’s diligent and patient, not in any sort of rush. When you sit up, he pulls on a shirt, kneeling by your legs to play with a loose thread at your skirt. Too intimate, you suppose. With his head on your lap, you don’t think you care. 
“We should leave.” You say it first, what’s been left in the air for someone else to pick apart. 
“We should.” 
“Can’t leave together.” You say simply, curling a hand in his hair. 
Humming, he looks up lazily, with a hint of a smile. “You go first.”
Neither of you make a move to get up.
“Mr Ghostface,” You start, giggling. “What happened to your mask?”
“Lost it.” He’s cryptic. Finally, he stands. 
Your stranger stretches out a rough palm, and you take it, getting up on shaky legs. You almost collapse onto his chest, but he’s there; solid, stoic. Looking up, and it catches you off guard: the intensity of his stare, how he watches in a way that makes you feel stripped bare. 
“You first.” He repeats, still holding on.
He’s pretty. Of course he is, but the shadow and light makes his features even more pronounced. In the quiet, you take the opportunity to catch him off guard; standing on tip-toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Jaw tight, he doesn’t react the way you want him to: ever-still, passive. Fuck. You’ve read it wrong: not used to the intensity of this kind of foray. After all: a one night stand seems too reductive, doesn’t quite span the depths and furrows of how your stranger has taken you apart. Finally, you leave the strange man still standing in the pool house. You don’t dare to look, but you can feel him; the weight of his stare at your back.
You can feel his hands, too; the ghost of his touch lingering as you make your way back to the house, mingling with the crowd.
~~~
You don’t tell your friends. You make your back home after the party, bundled into a taxi with a hand tight around your own wrist. It doesn’t feel like his hand on yours - not even close.
“I didn’t actually fuck him yesterday!” Your friend tugs on your sleeve, giggling into your shoulder as she recounts her night. A debrief with the girls turns into hungover breakfast-bleeding-into-lunch at your dorm. They’re bundled onto the sheets, some eating greasy takeout and others nursing bludgeoning headaches. 
You’re fine, mostly. A little bit of liquid courage, but your hangover pales in comparison to some - catatonic on your rug and scrolling through their phone in a limbo-like state.
“You didn’t fuck him, but you wanted to.” Someone pipes up, and the conversation devolves into raucous laughter.
You laugh, tucked into yourself. The wonders of a half-dozen sophomores during Halloween - able to grin despite the shit storm that’s been mounting. Campus killers notwithstanding - they make you smile, at least.
“Were you there towards the end?” Someone asks, poking an elbow at your side. “When there was that blackout?”
You nod, simply - not trusting yourself to say more.
“I-I mean…” Her voice is suddenly shaky, thrusting a phone into your unsuspecting hands. “Well… they’re saying it must have happened then, or around that time.”
You squint, confused.
“And it could’ve been anyone, I suppose. There were like, what, a hundred people there? More? ”
“What?” 
“A body. They found a body - by the pool house, or something…”
_
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stvolanis · 3 months
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Can you do a dom reader x sub farleigh fan fic? 🙇‍♀️. I don't really have a backstory for it fleshed out. I was kind of thinking maybe after the karaoke scene the reader confronts him for being bitchy to oliver in front of everyone. (w/ spanking, overstim, possibly mommy kink)
Omg I love this!
Vixen.
(One shot)
PAIRINGS: Sub!Brat!Farleigh Start X Dom!Reader
WARNINGS: I’m aware that the karaoke scene doesn’t happen at his bday party but i put them together anyway!! foul language, pet names, needy!Farleigh, established relationship, mentions of drugs and alcohol
NSFW WARNINGS: mean!Reader, slight humiliation, spanking, overstimulation, mommy kink, brat taming, degradation, praise, dacryphilia, restraint (our boy is tied up), oral (m receiving), cream pies, fluff at the end
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
Ever since Oliver came to live at Saltburn, Farleigh has seemed to make it his personal mission to belittle, taunt, shit talk and ruin Oliver.
You didn’t know what it was, why he was behaving this way, or even what was so wrong with Oliver, because he was nothing but sweet to you.
Always smiling and throwing out random little awkward jokes, making people laugh. He was a little bit quiet, and shy. An awkward scholarship boy, as Farleigh put it. How kind of him.
Tonight’s party was in celebration of Saltburns newest arrival, and apparently Felix’s’ jewel, Oliver. It was his birthday and the crowds of people were here, even though they had the least bit a clue as to who exactly they were even there for.
When the party was over, few people stayed around for a more toned down get together. It was just the family, you, and a few friends lying about having a good time chatting, drinking, and of course, karaoke.
Everyone was taking turns, picking their favorite songs to sing aloud for the group of peoples entertainment. You thought nothing of it when Farleigh told you he wanted to pick a song, yet your mood soured as the song began to play.
It was ‘Rent’ by Pet Shop boys.
You watched as Farleigh tossed the remote to Oliver, exclaiming how it was ‘his song’. Your jaw clenched. “Farleigh, that’s enough.” You said sternly as you peered up at the taller man. He scoffed. “Oh cmon, it’s just a little fun.” He replied with a chuckle.
You clicked your tongue. “No, Farleigh, turn it off! Now!” You yelled at him. The curly haired boy grew frustrated, and embarrassed as he felt the room of people stop and stare at the scene you caused, but he wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Oh my god, you’re fucking overreacting, it’s not that big of a deal!” He yelled back as he flared his arms out. Something in you snapped. After months of seeing him torment Oliver, you’d finally had enough. This was the icing on the cake.
“Dammit, Farleigh! I’ve fucking had it with you! Since Oliver’s been here you’ve been a raging cunt and without even an explanation as to why, and I’m done putting up with it!” You screamed out at him as you roughly grabbed him by his arm, dragging him towards the door.
His mouth was hung agape as you drug him out of the room, eyes following the both of you as you made your grand, oh so dramatic exit. He felt utterly humiliated at the way you talked to him in front of everyone, yet he couldn’t ignore the way his cock stirred in his slacks.
You threw him into your shared bedroom and locked the door shut. “Take off your pants and bend over.” You told him. He gulped, your tone of voice sounding too serious not to listen as he stripped himself of his slacks and boxers, bending over the bed.
You tied your hair up with a rubber band around your wrist and watched as Farleigh gripped the sheets beneath him, bracing himself for whatever was to come next. He jolted forward with a gasp as he felt your palm meet the flesh of his ass harshly.
Once, twice, then suddenly he lost count. By the time you were done, his ass felt raw and your hand print was red and visible. He had tears running down his cheek, yet his cock was oh so painfully hard against his lower stomach. He ached to be touched in any way you’d allow.
“Been such a fuckin’ brat since Ollie came. If you wanted my attention, you could’ve just said that, honey.” You chuckled out as you turned him over onto his back, instructing him to scoot further up the bed. “M’sorry, mommy, please—“ he begged, not even knowing what for.
“Shut your whore mouth, Farleigh.” You scolded as you perched yourself on his lower stomach, your clothed cunt sitting taut on his hard cock, making him let out a needy whimper. You leaned over to your night stand, digging through a drawer before pulling out a pair of pink rope.
You gripped Farleighs wrists with one of your hands and held them up to the head board, securely tying them. “Been such a bad boy, needa fix that for you.” You breathed against his lips. He leaned up, desperately trying to kiss you, but you pushed his head back down onto the pillow.
“Only good boys get kisses.” You whimpered against his ear as your body trailed down till your face was eye level with his cock and your back was arched in the air, displaying your ass that you knew Farleigh wanted to taint.
You took his tip into your mouth, sucking teasingly before smearing the pre-cum around with your thumb. His hips wiggled and his eyes were blown out with lust as he stared down at you through hooded eyes, watching as you began to take all of him in your mouth.
You gagged and gurgled around him, taking him so deep, his cock hitting the back of your throat. His moans filled your ears, and his hands clamped around his restrains, toes curling and eyes squeezing shut as you used one of your hands to play with his heavy balls.
“Mommy! Oh god—so good, so fuckin good.” He whimpered out as drool poured at the corner of his mouth, his mouth hung agape for too long. You released him from your mouth with a pop, using your other free hand to fist his cock tightly at a fast pace. “Yeah? Like mommy’s mouth oh your pretty cock?” You giggled out as your mouth trailed down to his balls.
You suckled one into your mouth, and Farleigh came with a loud moan, his head thrown back and his back arching off of the bed. The scene before you was straight out of a porno, and he looked so helpless and pretty when his cum spurted everywhere.
All over your face, on the bed sheets and his stomach. “Messy, messy boy, Farleigh.” You said as you shook your head. He was breathless, no words able to form as he watched you strip yourself of those god ridden clothes he wanted to rip off of you.
You glided your pussy along his still rock hard cock, letting your juices spread. You bit your lip at the stimulation on your sensitive bud. “Need you. Need your pussy, mommy, please? I’ll be a good boy, I swear—“ he babbled on, his words nearly slurring together to form what you presumed were sentences.
You laughed at the man who lied underneath you, a whimpering, needy mess. So desperate for you. So ready and willing to take anything you’ll give him. “I know, handsome, I know.” You shushed him as you finally planted a soft kiss to his trembling lips.
You lined him to your entrance, not giving him a chance to think as you slammed yourself down onto him. His cock kissed your cervix, and it felt like he was in your womb. “Such a big cock, all for me? My big boy.” You groaned out as you moved your hips in a circular motion on his cock, rubbing against your walls blissfully.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he nodded, his brain pussy drunk on you. “Mhm, yes, yes-“ he continued on. You bit your lip, holding back your moans as you watched him unravel beneath you.
But god, did his cock feel like heaven inside of you. You felt so unbelievably full, and all you could focus on was chasing your high—but Farleigh seemed to already be two seconds away from cunning again. You could feel it in the way his cock throbbed inside of you, and his balls tightened.
“Mommy, m’gonna cum, gonna cum inside of you. Gonna fill you, mommy.” He whimpered brainlessly as his hips slammed up into you as you slammed down onto him, the both of you forming a rhythmic pace. “Cmon, slut, fill me with your cum. Now.” You groaned out as you leaned down to capture his lips with yours.
He moaned into your mouth, tongues swirling together as his cum shot into you, leaking a little bit as you sat on his cock, making sure he got all of it in you. You sucked his lip into your mouth, releasing it with a little nibble and a cunning smile.
“Good boy, Farleigh. Mommy’s good boy.” You cooed at him. He lazily smiled up at you. “Good boy, m’a good boy..” he mumbled on. His eyes widened as you continued to fuck yourself onto him.
His cock was so, so sensitive. The way your walls squeezed around him, and your cervix kissing his aching tip each time he entered you was too much for him. Your pussy was milking him, and all he could sit there and do was take it. But seeing you bouncing up and down on top of him, tits bouncing with you, made it worth it.
To him, you looked utterly enchanting. The way you finally let your moans run lose, your hair coming undone from your ponytail. Your skin was sweaty and your face was red. He wanted to touch you so badly. He wanted to hold your waist and rut himself into you, even thought his cock was overused.
But now, you were using him for your pleasure. “So fucking good f’me, Farleigh. Makin’ me feel so good.” You moaned out as you threw your head back. Your praise of him making you feel good circled around in his mind, and that was all he wanted. Your approval. Knowing he was the only one who got to make you feel like this. And knowing only person who could see you like this was him—had him cumming for a third time inside of you.
Each time you slammed down onto him, your clit was met with his cute happy trail, and that was enough to send you into overdrive as you squirted all over the boy under you. Your juices made a mess of him, but you didn’t care. You bounced up and down on him a few more times, riding out your orgasm.
As you slowly came down from your high, you admired the way Farleigh looked. Still so, so beautiful. The handsomest boy you’d ever seen. Even when he was a brat, he still took care of you and loved you dearly. Your darling boy.
“Let’s take a bath, hm?” You suggested as you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. He nodded, and you untied the restraints. His hands immediately slithered around your waist, pulling you to lay down onto his chest. “Was I too rough, honey?” You asked as you peered up at him.
He shook his head. “No, you were perfect.” He whispered.
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
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nanawritesit · 3 months
Text
Stray Kids Tattoo Artist AU Imagines! (fem!reader)
Part Two - (NSFW/ 18+/ MDNI) 🔞
*disclaimer: none of these edits or tattoos are mine, i found them all on pinterest*
TW: inappropriate flirting with/from professional artists (sexual harassment is a real thing kids, respect your artists and they’ll respect you!) partial nudity, consensual touching and groping, them asking you out, praise, suggestive remarks, pet names (honey, sweetheart, angel, love, baby, good girl,) needles, mentions of food (CB,) hand holding (F,) mentions of grief and lost loved ones (I.N)
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Bangchan: Chest
You knew Bangchan from a friend of a friend. You had spoken to each other a few times at a couple of parties, and when he told you he was a tattoo artist, you immediately checked out his artwork. He was really good, so after a while you decided to book an appointment and get something you had always wanted: a red rose on your chest.
It was going well so far, you were wearing a strapless bra so the nudity wasn’t an issue, but as he got lower and lower tattooing the stem, you noticed him getting tense and rigid.
“Are you okay, Chan?” you asked him as he was reloading the ink.
He perked up in surprise. “I’m supposed to be the one asking you that.” he chuckled.
“It’s just… you seem nervous.” you remarked, leaning closer to him. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“No, it’s not you…” he shook his head frantically, shooting you an apologetic smile. “I just…” He glanced around the room, avoiding your gaze for a moment. “Okay, I’m gonna tell you a secret, but you have to promise not to laugh.” he demanded, eyes locking back in on yours.
You crossed your heart. “I promise.”
He sighed. “Okay. You’re the first girl I’ve ever tattooed.”
You did as you promised and didn’t laugh, but your mouth did fall open a bit in surprise. “Really?”
He nodded, chuckling uncomfortably. “Yeah… We don’t get a lot of pretty girls in here. It’s mostly bikers, gym bros, and playboys.”
You blushed, smirking slightly. “You think I’m pretty?”
His eyes widened. “I mean… yeah? You’re gorgeous, which makes me even more nervous. And the fact that your tattoo is in the… you know, cleavage area, it’s just… a bit hard to relax I suppose. I’m sorry, this is so unprofessional of me.”
“No, it’s okay, I understand…” you reassured him. “Are you… unsure of where to put your hands?”
His eyes shifted in hesitation, then looked you in the eye once again. He nodded meekly.
“Here…” you suggested, reaching for his left wrist. You placed his hand along your breast, allowing him to touch it. “You can grip onto it, it’s okay.”
He gulped, then did as you asked. He winced, then reached for his tattoo gun with his dominant hand. “Okay, thank you. I feel a lot better now.” he lied through his teeth. Here you were allowing him to touch such a private area out of kindness for his artistry, and yet it only made him more nervous. He supposed it was because he had harbored such a massive crush on you since the day he met you, and when you approached him for a tattoo, it made his heart stop. But he shouldn’t have been bringing those feelings into his tattoo studio. This was his job, he told himself.
“Hey, Chan…” you interrupted his thoughts, placing your fingers delicately along his jaw. He looked up at you, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. You smiled warmly at him. “I asked you to do my tattoo because you’re really talented, I trust you, and I really like you. You don’t have to be nervous.”
He grinned appreciatively. Hearing you say that did calm him down a bit, and gave him the confidence to continue. “Thank you, Y/N. Alright, let’s finish this rose. It’s going to look so good on you.”
He didn’t know how he was going to contain himself after this, seeing you walk around with his art on your chest that he put there himself. He was going to have to muster up the courage to ask you out before someone else did. But for right now, all he was focused on was giving you the best tattoo he’d ever done.
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Lee Know: Collarbone
He slid your sweater down to look over your collarbone, grinning approvingly as he took it in. “Oh yeah, this vine is going to look so sick.”
You giggled, finding yourself attracted to his confidence. Something about a man who took pride in his craft just drove you wild. Almost wild enough to forget how nervous you were.
He seemed to notice your uneasiness, backing away a bit. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just a bit anxious…” you explained, brushing some of your hair behind your ear.
“Why are you anxious? It’s just a tattoo.” he chuckled.
“Well, that’s easy for you to say.” you laughed, gesturing to his tattoos. He had one along his neck and another along his left hand trailing up his wrist. They were beautiful, and you wondered how much they had hurt.
“Oh, I get it…” he concluded, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back with a smirk. “This is your first tattoo, isn’t it?”
Your eyes widened in shock. “How did you..?”
“You just have ‘the look.’ Everyone getting their first tattoo has a certain look to them.” he explained nonchalantly. “But sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about. It’s gonna hurt a bit, but I’m sure you’ll be okay. You seem pretty tough.”
You grinned at his compliment, feeling your cheeks heat up a bit. “I do?”
He nodded in confirmation. “Of course you do. And even if you can’t take it, we can stop whenever you want. There’s no shame in it.”
You smiled at his reassurance, gaining a sudden determination. “Alright, let’s do this!”
“Atta girl…” he praised, patting your knee encouragingly. “Okay, let’s get started…”
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Changbin: Back
You laid out on your stomach, completely topless save for the pasties over your nipples. He had given you the option to just unclip your bra, but you wanted him to have as much space to work with as he needed.
He rolled his chair over to you and began prepping his tools. “Alright honey, this is gonna take about five hours. You sure you’re up for this?”
You smirked at him over your shoulder. “I can handle it.”
He grinned approvingly. “That’s what I like to hear. Alright, let’s get started.”
The outline was a little painful, but it was honestly quite an interesting sensation. It actually felt kind of good, pumping up your adrenaline as he drug the needle along your skin.
He placed a hand delicately on your shoulder. “How’s that feeling so far? You need a break?”
You shook your head with a chuckle. “No, I’m actually feeling pretty good. Is that weird?”
He laughed lightheartedly, continuing on with his work. “No, not at all. I feel the same way about tattoos. Maybe… you just kind of like pain? Have you ever thought about that?”
You gulped, trying to contain yourself. Something about your hunky tattoo artist asking you if you liked the pain he was inflicting on you made you flustered.
You laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know, maybe? I guess I just have a pretty good tolerance.”
“You do. You’re doing such a good job. I’m proud of you.” he smiled, running a hand along the curve of your spine. “Forgive me if this sounds inappropriate, but you have a really nice back. These wings are going to suit you so well.”
You grinned, feeling your cheeks heat up at his compliment and praise. “Thank you… I can’t decide if they look more like angel wings or fairy wings.”
“Either way, they’re beautiful. After all, I designed them.” he chuckled cockily. “Say, um… you’re going to need a pretty big meal after this, and it’ll be around dinner time when we get done… Do you maybe wanna get some food together? There’s a really good chicken place down the street, I’d love to take you there.”
You looked over at him affectionately. “Yeah, I’d like that. Are you sure you wanna spend that much time with me?”
“Of course. I’m all yours for the night, angel.”
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Hyunjin: Hip
When your artist walked out into the waiting area to come greet you with a cute smile, you seriously questioned that he was it. He looked much too angelic and sweet to be a tattooist. But when you got into his studio, he took off his flannel and tied it around his waist, revealing a sick arm sleeve that went up his neck.
“Wow…” you marveled, forgetting yourself for a moment.
He smirked, glancing over at you in the chair. “Pardon?”
You shook your head, grounding yourself once again. “Sorry, I meant… I really like your tattoos.”
“Thank you, I really appreciate that.” he grinned, getting his tools ready. “I designed the sleeve myself and had a colleague tattoo it for me. I’m really happy with it.” He walked over to his table and picked up the print, bringing it over to you. “Are you happy with your design? We can tweak a few things if you like.”
You looked it over, then shook your head with an approving smile. “No, it’s perfect. You did a great job.”
“Awh, I haven’t even done the tattoo yet, and you’re already praising me…” he chuckled, sitting down in his chair in front of you. He suddenly placed his hands on your thighs. “Alright, first things first, these cute little shorts are gonna have to come off.”
Your eyes widened. “Like, all the way?”
He laughed at your nervousness. “Well, I don’t want you to have to hike them up the whole time, and I’m not going to be able to hold them either.”
You shifted uncomfortably in your chair. “Okay…”
“Hey, don’t be shy…” he reassured you with a warm smile, patting your knee. “Tattoos are always an intimate process no matter where they are. Trust me, I’ve tattooed people in much weirder places. You have nothing to worry about.”
You grinned appreciatively. Knowing that he wasn’t uncomfortable with it at all made you feel a bit better. “Okay, can you just… turn around for a second?”
“Of course. Let me know when you’re ready.” he replied, turning back to his table.
You then removed your shorts and sat back down in your chair. “Alright, I’m good.”
He turned back to you, his eyes not lingering any longer than they needed to. He was completely focused on the task at hand, which you somehow found even more attractive than if he was gawking at you.
“Okay, let’s lean your chair back…” he suggested, placing a hand over your décolletage to steady you as he adjusted the chair. You held your breath at the sudden contact, feeling your heartbeat quicken. Were you really developing a crush on your tattoo artist?
“Okay, do you trust me?” he asked, suddenly leaning into your face with such intensity that it made you freeze. God, he was so beautiful, his features looked like they were sculpted out of marble.
You nodded with a tiny grin. “I trust you.” Damn, this was going to be a long session…
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Han: Thigh
You tapped your heels on the floor anxiously. Han Jisung was one of the best tattoo artists in the area, and you had somehow managed to book an appointment with him. Luckily your best friend Chan had connections, but you had never met him in real life, or even seen a picture of him. You followed him on instagram, but he only ever posted about tattoos or his artwork.
Suddenly, the curtains opened, and a handsome man with blonde hair, piercings, and a neck tattoo walked in. “Y/N?” he asked, pointing to you with a grin.
“That’s me. Are you…?” you asked, pointing back at him.
“Han Jisung.” he answered you, extending his hand for you to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, I’m a huge fan of your work!” you giggled, feeling yourself getting flustered. “I still can’t believe I got a session with you.”
“Awh thank you, I appreciate anyone who likes my art.” he smiled cutely, brushing some of his hair back nervously. You couldn’t believe how adorable he was. You were expecting some huge, burly guy with a scary face and scars all over his body. He also seemed very humble, not at all aware that he was one of the most in-demand tattooists in the city. “Chan said you were a good friend of his, and I owed him a favor anyway, so I’m happy I can do this for you.”
“Yeah, I didn’t even know he knew you… he said you guys went to art school together?” you inquired, compelled to find out more about this mystery artist in front of you.
He chuckled, walking over to his table. “Yeah, we go way back. Actually, the design I pulled for you was one I did back when I was in school.” He sifted through some papers, then pulled out the print, brandishing it to you. “What do you think?”
You stared blankly at it, mouth agape. “Oh my god, it’s perfect! You did this in school?”
He laughed at your praise, and you swore you saw his cheeks tinge a shade of light pink. “Yeah, I did… You said you wanted something delicate and natural, but a little sexy. Does this fill all the requirements?”
“Um, yeah?” you replied, questioning why he even needed to ask that. “It’s amazing, Han. Can I call you that?”
“You can call me whatever you want, whenever you want.” he grinned flirtatiously. He then shook his head at himself in disbelief. “Sorry, that was so cheesy...”
“Are you flirting with me?” you teased, crossing your arms with a smirk.
“No, of course not, that would be inappropriate…” he laughed anxiously, rolling his chair up in front of you. “Now, can I map out where you want it?” He was clearly desperate to change the subject.
Although you enjoyed flustering him, you were here for a reason. You nodded, leaning back to give him space.
He placed a hand delicately along your bare thigh, hiking up your shorts a bit. He ran his fingers along the smooth skin, mapping out the placement with his fingers. He suddenly groped the soft flesh, looking up at you intensely. “Is right here okay?”
Now it was your turn to get flustered. “Yeah, that’s good…”
He smirked, rolling back over to his tool cart. “Alright Y/N, let’s give you this delicately sexy tattoo.” This was clearly going to be a challenge as to who could tease the other the most, and you were totally up for it.
You smiled mischievously to yourself. Game on, Han Jisung.
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Felix: Hand
Even with all his dark tattoos, Felix looked way too cute to be a tattoo artist. You had seen his freckled face on instagram, but part of you always questioned whether or not that was really him. But now, he was standing right in front of you, and you couldn’t deny how beautiful he was in real life. He somehow looked even more unreal in person.
“Okay Y/N, can I see your hand?” he asked, reaching out for it.
Your eyes widened. “Hm?”
“For the print, love.” he giggled at your shock.
“Oh, yeah…” you remembered the plot, placing your hand softly in his. He studied it, tracing the pads of his fingers along the curves of your knuckles and wrist before placing the print overtop of them.
He adjusted the edges and then peeled off the backing. “Do you like that?”
“What?” you asked, previously being lost in a trance from the feeling of your hand in his.
“Do you like this placement?” he chuckled patiently. He was seemingly very amused at your wandering mind.
You nodded frantically, laughing at yourself anxiously. “Yeah it looks good.” Get it together, Y/N… you thought to yourself.
“Good...” he grinned, leaning forward to look you in the eyes. “Now, the hands are very sensitive, see?” He began running his thumb along the back of it, then holding it up and running his fingers along the palm. “You can feel every touch.” He squeezed your hand tightly, making your cheeks heat up. “Do you want to hold onto my shoulder with your other hand while I do this?”
“Y-yes… That would be nice…” you stuttered out, slowly reaching forward. You lightly placed your hand on his tattooed shoulder, glancing over the artwork. “You have really nice shoulders… I mean, tattoos…”
His nose scrunched up as he smiled at you once again, glad that he was flustering you so much. You were so adorable to him, he couldn’t help teasing you. “Thank you, love. Don’t be afraid to squeeze, I promise you won’t hurt me. I can take a lot of pain.”
You could’ve sworn he winked as he said that, but you were quickly distracted by the hum of his tattoo gun. You instinctively gripped onto his shoulder, prompting him to look you in the eyes once again. “Are you ready for me?”
You gulped, suddenly so aware of how intimate of a position you were in. You had gotten several tattoos before, there was no reason for you to feel as nervous as you were. Felix was single-handedly the most bold tattoo artist you’d ever had, not to mention the most good-looking. God, he was going to be the death of you. “Yes, I’m ready for you, Felix.”
He smirked, eyes narrowing and darkening in approval. “Alright, let’s go then.”
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Seungmin: Ribcage
Your breath hitched in your throat as your tall, inked up artist walked back into the room. Clad in a v-neck shirt, his shoulder tattoos were on full display, as well as the one down his temple. This man clearly had a high tolerance for pain, which only made you more attracted to him. How the hell were going to get through this appointment with him?
“Alright, I’ve got the prints right here…” he explained, setting them down on the table. “Can you stand up for me?”
You nodded, quickly rising up as he had asked.
“Wow, obedient…” he chuckled, making you swallow hard. He placed his hands on your shoulders, pushing you forward slightly. He ghosted his hand over the hem of your crop top. “Can I…?”
“Yeah, go right ahead.” you grinned, relaxing in his hold.
He glanced over your shoulder as he lifted your shirt up to reveal your ribcage, still covering your nipple with the shirt. He brought his free hand around to run his fingers along the space under your breast. “So you’re thinking right here?”
You made eye contact with him though the mirror in front of you. “Yeah, and kind of wrapping around the breast… Do you think that’ll look good?”
“Oh yeah, it’s gonna look super hot.” he smiled, releasing your shirt and patting your shoulders encouragingly. He went back over to his table, giving you a moment to release the breath you were holding in. “I designed this to fit your body perfectly, and you have a great figure for it.”
“Really?” you asked, sitting back down in your chair and gripping onto the seat for stability. You didn’t know if you could handle any more praise from him.
“Yeah, your curves are going to make it stand out even more.” he complimented. “Here, see how mine curves around my shoulder?” He suddenly pulled his shirt down to reveal the tattooed area, making you gulp slightly.
You nodded, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah, I see…”
He smirked at your embarrassment, then went back to getting his tools ready. “It’s like that. Okay, do you wanna put on some pasties?”
You nodded, taking them from him. He turned around to give you some privacy, not expecting you to have casually stripped off your entire shirt like it was nothing once you told him you had them on.
“Dang, you’re bold…” he marveled, grinning approvingly. “I like that.”
You smiled back at him, leaning back in your chair. “Well, we might as well get it out of the way now. We’re going to be spending the next two hours together with me being topless, aren’t we?”
He chuckled, finding your sudden confidence extremely attractive. “That’s true. Let’s get this pretty little rib tattooed, shall we?”
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I.N: Behind the Ear
“That’s it, that’s a good girl…” Jeongin praised you, his hand delicately placed along the side of your neck.
You hissed as you laid on your side, the final white ink touches being the most painful. However, his encouragement felt so good it helped to distract you from the pain.
“And, just like that, we’re done!” he congratulated you, rubbing your hip to signal for you to get up. “You did such a good job, Y/N.”
“Thank you, Jeongin…” you sighed, laughing at the sting behind your ear. “I know it was small, but god that white hurt…”
“Oh yeah, white’s never fun. My left sleeve has a lot in it, and I had already been in the chair for like eight hours beforehand, so I just powered through and told them to get it over with. Worst decision of my life.” he chuckled to himself as he remembered, looking back up at you. “Can I ask… why did you get the butterflies?”
“I know it’s not the most original idea, or the most interesting choice to someone like you …” you began, gesturing to the detailed sleeves he had on both of his arms. “But I actually lost two of my friends last year, and I wanted to get these to feel like they’re watching over me.”
He smiled affectionately at your confession. “No, I would never judge anyone’s tattoo choice. It’s so personal, the only people who really judge what people get anymore are older artists and their ‘pick me’ wives.”
You laughed at his joke, hitting him on the arm playfully. “You really don’t think it’s too basic?”
He shook his head. “I think tattoos can be as meaningful or a meaningless as you want them to be. I’ve given deep tattoos, and silly ones, and they’re both really cool. I’m just glad I can provide this service to you.” He smiled adorably, his eyes wrinkling up at the corners.
“Thank you, Jeongin, I really love them…” you grinned, touching the red area behind your ear.
“It was my pleasure.” he grinned, looking a little disappointed that your time together was over. “Hey, are you doing anything after this?”
“Nope, this was pretty much my last commitment of the day.” you chuckled, grabbing your bag as you got ready to leave. “Why?”
“Well, it’s just…” he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing to the floor nervously. “I was wondering if you might want to get some coffee together? I think you’re really cool and interesting, and I’d like to get to know you better.”
You smiled so wide you thought your face would break. “I would love to. Let’s go.”
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charmercharm3r · 11 months
Text
Investments
LFX
Masterlist
wc: 2.3k
Requested
Synopsis: Felix thinks a flashy coat will make him more intimidating.
warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, softdom!Felix, fem!reader, not really mafia but he's definitely a criminal lolll, money laundering?, oral (f), porn w no plot lol, piv, cream pie
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“Don’t you think it’s a bit… excessive?”
The fluffy, exaggerated red pelt that covered his shoulders looked almost too heavy for Felix’s slim frame. Though, it suited him well.
“Not at all. If anything, I don’t think it’s excessive enough. I want everyone to know who’s in charge.” Felix adjusted the collar in the mirror and slicked the right side of his pretty blonde hair back.
“You’re already hard to miss as it is, babe.” You stood from your spot on the bed, making your way behind him and placing your hand over his to get him to face you. Up close, you could see how well the bright red color brought out his skin tone, freckles lining his nose and upper cheeks in a kind facade. Felix gazed down at you sweetly as you reached up to fix the collar yourself, “however, you look hot in red.”
A sly smirk spread across his face, “you think so? Hm, then perhaps this is the perfect thing to wear to the office today.” Leaning in and cupping your cheeks, Felix placed a quick peck to your forehead. “Join me?”
You knew what he did for work wasn’t necessarily… legal, and that it was incredibly dangerous. But Felix assured you time after time that the fear of getting caught wasn’t even on his radar and that he had protection plans in place. That was something you didn’t question further as it probably wasn’t something you should know for your own sanity. Hell, you probably should’ve ran in the opposite direction when he told you what his job was. But for some reason, you just couldn’t.
The warehouse was so far off the map that after all this time together, you still got confused every time you went. But Felix’s hand in yours as his other gripped the steering wheel was comfort enough that the two of you weren’t lost despite not having seen a single building for the past twenty minutes. The enormous coat was discarded in the backseat, leaving your long term boyfriend in just a gray tank top and matching red pants, and to say you wanted to jump his bones would’ve been an understatement. He knew how much you adored his body, even more when there was just a thin barrier between you and his skin. It was like he dressed this way knowing you couldn’t say no to spending more time with him, even if it was at his scary, illegal job.
There were no other cars in the lot as the two of you pulled up, but a single text message and the garage doors of the old warehouse opened up and Felix entered. Ominous as always, you got chills as the dark interior shadowed your car before your eyes adjusted to the dim light. Large machines were lined up in the middle, rows of people wearing gloves and handling the product with tongs and tweezers working away at them doing god knows what. If Felix had told you what he did for a living before bringing you here to witness the stacks of washing machines and dryers tumbling loads of green paper, you would’ve laughed in his face. How could such a charming and sweet person as he is, be involved in money laundering? Let alone, running the entire thing?
Felix didn’t let you dwindle on the recollection too long, putting the car in park and strutting to your side to open the door. You gave him a gentle kiss on the lips as he crowded your view of the working floor, he never did like you looking too closely, not that you were complaining. The less you knew, the better.
You stepped out of the vehicle and opened the back passenger door to grab his obnoxiously large coat, draping it over his shoulders to take his hand as he led you towards his office.
“On track today?” Felix called out to the person at the end of the pathway overlooking the floor.
“Hello Sir, greetings Missus. Ahead of the game today, actually. You were right, new machines were worth the investment. What a… wonderful coat,” the goon gave a quick bow and kept his head low as you and Felix got closer.
“I always am. And thank you,” your boyfriend said lowly, patting the worker on the shoulder when the pair of you passed him and entered his office.
Only once finally in the confines of his private room and locking the door behind him did Felix let out a quivering sigh. Though, you didn’t ask why. He knew you were there to lend an ear if he decided he needed the support. His work was a touchy subject, you didn’t want to add to his already heavy burden by pestering him. However, it seemed he was in a chatty mood.
“I hate that guy,” Felix admitted, coming in close and hugging you from behind with his back to the shaded window that overlooked the work floor.
You melted into the warmth of his chest and coziness of the fluffy red coat, “why?”
“He’s scared of me. I don’t like people who are scared of me. I’m not scary, am I, sweetheart?” He hid his face in the crook of your neck and lowered his voice to rumble against your skin.
“Not in the slightest. But I decided that before I knew you were a crime lord.” Felix laughed deeply and spun you around, taking your cheeks in his hands again.
“So you’re not even the slightest bit afraid?” He was smirking that stupidly attractive smirk and tilting his head so catlike.
You shivered, but not from his words so much as the way he was looking at you, that same glimmer of mischief in his eyes that you knew so well. You shook your head, no, “should I be afraid?”
Felix sucked in a deep breath before letting it out and coming in close to your face. You could feel his warm breath against your lips, grazing your own but not quite touching, though you wished he would. Years together and you still feel the electric shock whenever he so much as looks your way. “You don’t have to be,” he whispered and paused as your breath caught in your throat. “But everyone else should.”
He crashed into you with force so strong that you stumbled back until your ass hit the desk. Felix immediately drew your dress high on your hips and lifted you on to it without breaking the kiss, roaming his hands up and down your body while you laced your fingers in his hair. You struggled to breath at the sheer intensity at which he ravaged your mouth, tongues and spit mixing and echoing throughout the thin walled room. You silently thanked the heavens that the blinds were closed, it wasn’t particularly high up on your to-do list to be watched by all of his employees.
Nipping lightly at your neck then falling to his knees in front of you, Felix dragged your underwear just below your knees and ducked under them to toss your legs over his shoulders and spread them wide. He dove in without hesitation to lick a fat strip up the center of your core and have you whine out in sudden stimulation. As if he didn’t have you last night as well, he suckled and slurped and tongued at you like a hungry dog, no interest in stopping or slowing down. Felix was especially good with his lips, plump and thick cupping around your bundle of nerves so nicely as you clenched around nothing, eventually enticing your first orgasm out of you from his mouth alone. You squeezed his head between your legs and knocked away whatever was on his desk as you leaned back to keep from falling over, calling out his name with a high pitched cry.
He huffed and puffed for air when you finally released him, already pulling his pants down and clearing the desk behind you entirely so you could lay back. Felix guided your knees around his torso and lazily pumped himself a few times before swiping his red tip at your wetness. Between the delirious satisfaction you felt and the similarity of the color of the coat and the head of his cock, you couldn’t suppress the giggle leaving your mouth. “Oh no,” you hummed, “such a big, scary villain! What are you gonna do to me?” The feigned fear made him grin down at you and pull the top of your dress as far down as it’d go. In the process, he got a little too excited and ripped the seam down the front and side of the dress.
“Gonna make you scream my name, pretty baby. Gonna make sure everyone out there knows who you belong to.” He swiped the tip across your sensitive clit, making you whine a little more, but feel even more desperate for his touch. You pulled him down by the collar of the coat for a heavy, heated kiss, Felix falling and catching himself with both hands on either side of your head. Amidst the saliva being swapped he managed to blindly fumble to find your entrance and push in, both you moaning into one another's mouths.
The stretch was dizzying, you dug your heels into his back to reach further into your deepest parts and nudge the sweet spot. The coat was proving to be rather practical, making a wonderful harness of sorts for you to hold on to just because you wanted him to stay close.
Felix moved his hips slowly at first, working you up and letting you have your way for a few moments longer. But he was growing too desperate, unable to hold back now that he was buried in your warm, wet, pulsing walls. He placed a few more loving kisses to your lips knowing nothing he was doing to you was anywhere near appropriate for work. Not that he cared, he’s the boss, he can do whatever the fuck he wants.
Including fucking you senseless for everyone to hear.
He stood up again and let your hands keep hold of the hem of his fluffy red coat, big enough to cover your body if anyone decided to come wandering in. Felix brought his thumb to your mouth and pushed in, letting your saliva coat the digit to and bring it back down to your clit, rubbing slow, perfectly practiced figure eights into it. You convulsed tighter around his cock, slick sounds filling the room and he was hardly even moving. Though, as his pace picked up, the wetness was overtaken by skin on skin and the creaking of the wooden desk beneath you. Deep grunts accompanied your wails of pleasure as his thumb failed to cease its assault to your nerves and make you feel trapped in a whirlwind of bliss. His smell surrounded you and made it hard to breathe, his skin was so warm and he sounded so pretty, you couldn’t focus on anything except him, him, him.
“C’mon baby, where are your manners? It’s polite to praise whoever is doing you a service,” Felix’s voice seemed to have dropped into octaves you didn’t think was possible despite knowing you’d heard it hundreds of times. He never failed to amaze you.
“Fuck– more, baby, please. So sexy, so good, so big– ahh!” His pace picked up exponentially, short and quick ruts into your cunt instead of long strides to hit your g-spot at a consistent pace. Eyes rolling back, you could feel the knot in your belly tightening every time his pelvis hit yours, every delicious rub against your clit, he knew exactly how to make you melt.
“Say my name,” he demanded, his lower lip finding its way between his teeth and brow furrowing in concentration.
“Li– fuck– Lix, baby, god–”
“Again,” a not light, but not too rough of a slap he sent to your ass, causing your hips to buck into his hand.
“Baby, please! Gonna–”
“Say. My. Name,” each word menacingly punctuated in between thrusts.
“Fuck– F– Felix!”
The cry must’ve reached the logical part of his brain and allowed mercy, “shit– cum, sweetheart.”
He fucked you through your orgasm, letting both his hands grip your waist and take advantage of the erratic movement of your walls, quick staccato’d thrusts into you that prolonged the high. Once the light faded from the back of your eyelids, you were able to coerce your boyfriend into his own bliss, “fill me up, baby. Show everyone, who do I belong to?”
Felix’s head fell back as he sunk into you and let the groan rumble from within his chest, seed coating your walls and milking him dry. His hips twitched as he attempted to come back to earth and regained his breath. Slowly his head rolled back around to look down at you with the largest smile, “you should come to work with me more often.”
“I don’t think your employees would appreciate me taking up all your time,” you could only manage to whisper seeing as your throat was dry and sore.
“Doesn’t matter what they think. They work for me, I’m in charge.” Felix bent over and kissed you, soft and sweet, the same way you knew him to be. You hummed against his lips, “mhm.” 
He pulled out shortly after a few more moments of reassuring smooches, maneuvering to step aside and pull your panties back up while readjusting your dress. Felix laughed at the state of you while he fixed himself up as well, patting down your messy hair and gesturing at your smudged lipstick.
Thumb to your lips, there was a knock at the door. Felix yelled, “come in,” to reveal the same worker from earlier.
“Sorry to…” the employee looked at you then at his boss, “...interrupt. But Mr. Bang is here to collect.” Your boyfriend merely nodded his head and the goon disappeared again.
Felix turned to you, taking you in his arms again for a tight embrace and chaste pecks to your cheek. “Sorry, sweetheart. Time for business.”
-
tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @leebitsimpracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @kaitchan @iadorethemskz
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j2h5b5 · 1 year
Text
There was only one thing that could have dragged Steve out of bed at two in the morning when he was nursing a booze-induced headache and an Eddie Munson-induced heartache.
“We need you,” she said.
He didn’t even bother putting on a jacket.
***
Dustin was sloppy, red-eyed and so unsteady that when Steve thunked a strong hand down on his shoulder, he almost lost his balance turning away from the group of asshats he’d taken up with to see who had grabbed him. Some of the drink in his hand sloshed over the sides of the cup and dribbled down the front of his shirt and onto the already filthy kitchen floor.
“Hey, what the—” he began, and then he dragged his gaze up to land on Steve.
There was a time, not so very long ago, when those same eyes would’ve lit up at the sight of his babysitter slash idol slash best friend. He would wrap him in a hug if it had been a day or two since he’d seen him, or sling a companionable arm around him, or punch him good-naturedly in the arm in hopes of initiating a play scuffle, which inevitably ended with him in a headlock getting his mop of curls aggressively tousled because he was just never going to have any kind of athletic edge on Steve.
But now.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” the younger boy asked in a tone so sharp and cold and so very NOT-Dustin that it made Steve’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest.
“Hey, man,” Steve said, aiming for casual if only to keep Dustin from embarrassing himself in front of his new asshat friends. “Can I talk to you? Step outside with me for a sec, okay?”
“Um, no,” Dustin bit out. “This’s my party, i'ss my house. It would be rude to leave my guests.”
“Yeah, since you brought that up … who are these people?” Steve swept his gaze over the Henderson kitchen, which was almost unrecognizable with all of the clutter, displaced furniture, and wasted teenagers. “And Dustin … where’s your mom?”
“Not here.”
“Well yeah, I kind of gathered that. Listen, Dust…”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Are the others here?”
“Oh, you mean the traitors who called and ratted me out to YOU? Who the fuck cares?” His voice lowered to what he seemed to think was a conspiratorial level but was really just an extremely loud stage whisper. “Maybe they tripped and fell and landed their buzzkill asses back in the Upside Down.”
“Okay, that’s it.”
Before Dustin could protest, the cup was plucked from his hand and tossed expertly across the room, over the heads of several unwary drunken youths and into the crusty-dish-crowded sink and he was being towed along behind Steve through the kitchen, the living room, out the front door.
“What the fuck, Harrington? Let go of me! Let go!” Dustin struggled against the vise grip on his bicep but only succeeded in ensuring he’d probably have finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow.
Steve paid him no mind until he had deposited the boy into the passenger seat of his car, slammed the door, and locked it. Then he walked around to the driver’s side, unlocked it only long enough to get in, relocked it, and turned to Dustin.
“First of all,” he began loudly, drowning out Dustin’s sputtering attempts to find the words he wanted to hurl at Steve in his outrage at being manhandled out of his own party. “First of all. Joking about the Upside Down in a room full of strangers? NOT OKAY.”
“They don’t even know what—”
“Not. Fucking. Okay. SECOND, if you ever imply again that one of ours should BE in the Upside Down, you will find yourself with my foot so far up your ass you’ll choke on my shoe, and if you think I’m joking about that, Dustin, try me.”
This time there was only an eye-roll from Dustin, because he kind of didn’t want to try Steve on that point and because he kind of felt bad about saying it.
“Third, your friends are not traitors. They care about you and they’re worried about you; they called me for help because you’re treating them like shit and shut down every attempt they make to help you. Listen, I know I’m not your favorite person right now, Dustin, but you have to let someone help you. You’re not okay, buddy. This isn’t you. And all this shit you’re doing, the drinking and the partying and the pretending not to give a damn? It isn’t going to fix anything. It … it won’t bring him back.”
“Shut up!” Dustin shouted, flinching so hard at the words that he smacked the back of his head against the side window. Steve winced at the sound of skull meeting glass and resisted the urge to reach out and check for blood, or a bump. Dustin seemed not to have noticed that he’d nearly brained himself, infusing his next words with all the venom he could muster. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Steve. Even if you were right, it’s none of your business what I do! I am none of your business.”
“Don’t say shit like that, Dustin. Of course you’re my business.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah! What are you saying?”
Dustin barked out a humorless laugh. “As much as I’d like to sit here with you and have a heart to heart right now, I have to get back to my guests.”
“No,” Steve snapped, reaching over Dustin to slap down the peg lock when the teen yanked it up. “We’re not done here. Now I can go inside and clear out your house and we can talk there, or you can drop the bullshit and talk to me right now.”
“You’re not shutting down my party.”
“Then we talk here.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Right, sure you don’t. Maybe I can give you some words, then. How about this, Dustin? How about: ‘Hey, Steve, you useless idiot loser, you promised to keep us safe and then you fucked it all up like you always do. The plan didn’t work and Max got hurt and Eddie fucking died, and you couldn’t stop it. I hate you for that, for lying and making us feel safe and telling us it was going to be okay. I can’t even look at you anymore and I hate my friends because they don’t hate you for some reason, but we know, don’t we? We know whose fault it is that we came back a man short. It’s yours, Steve. Yours.’” Steve’s voice was cracked and painful, like he’d been eating gravel and chasing it with cheap whisky and cigarettes. It hurt, that voice. “How’s that, Dust?” he finished, staring unflinching into Dustin’s shocked eyes. “Am I in the ballpark?”
Before Steve could react, Dustin unlocked his door and flung himself out of the car. He was drunk and it was dark, though, and he only made it a few yards before tripping and landing hard on the grass. Steve was on him almost instantly, hauling him up by the arms and scanning him for injuries.
He didn’t see the punch coming, wouldn’t have believed Dustin Henderson capable of such an effective hit, right in the mouth, knocking him back a couple of feet. “Jesus, Dustin!” he shouted, touching his lip and staring dumbfounded when his fingers came away wet with blood. “What the fuck, man?”
“Hit me back.”
“What? No! Dustin, what’s—”
“HIT ME BACK, STEVE! You have to!” Dustin’s voice cracked, the sudden violent burst of emotion threatening to unleash something big and scary and unforgivable. A tidal wave that had a name.
Steve grappled wildly with the boy, trying to grab his flailing arms so he could pin him, but Dustin was surprisingly swift in his current state, and he launched another punch, this one landing heavy in Steve’s gut and socking the breath right out of him.
“HIT ME, STEVE! I KNOW YOU WANT TO, JUST DO IT!”
Fueled by a burst of frustration and a sharper burst of fear (what is this?), Steve recovered enough to trap Dustin’s arms against his body, using his own weight to twist the boy around until he was trapped with his back against Steve, the hold immobilizing him so all he could do was squirm and shout out his fury. “LET ME GO FUCK YOU STEVE WHY WON’T YOU JUST FIGHT BACK YOU ASSHOLE?!”
“Dustin, stop. Stop it. Breathe, Dustin. Take a breath. No, hey, stop. You’re not going anywhere until you calm down for me. Breathe. Shhh, buddy. Breathe,” Steve’s hold was unbudging, his tone stern but soothing. Dustin’s violent struggles gradually slowed, and it took a couple of minutes for Steve to realize that the boy was shaking with silent sobs. And then the sobs became words, almost indecipherable in the wrecked, wretched voice that was rough and strained from screaming.
Every sentence Steve parsed from the stream of horrible self-accusations added another crack to his heart, which couldn’t have been more than a mess of spiderwebbing at this point.
It’s my fault.
He’s dead because of me.
I couldn’t save him.
You loved him, I know you did.
Why don’t you hate me?
Why don’t you hate me?
Why don’t you hate me?
Finally, finally, the words stopped and Dustin sagged, exhausted, in Steve’s arms. Only then did Steve ease up on his hold, but only long enough to turn the boy around and hug him properly. He bent down to bury his face in the unruly curls, his own tears falling unchecked and inconsequential.
“Dustin,” he whispered into the mop of hair. “Oh, Dustin, never.”
And when he realized he didn’t have the right words, he just stopped. He just picked Dustin up and carried him to his car, buckled him into the passenger seat, and told him he would be right back. He had a party to break up, some kids to chase away, and a boy—his boy—to mend.
“You loved him, I know you did.”
With a soul-cleansing breath that sounded more like a sob, Steve made his way back up to the Hendersons’ house.
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run-clever-boy · 3 months
Text
Talk to me - 12th Doctor
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12 x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ Minor DNI, Dirty talk, Oral (Fem receiving) Fingering, P in V sex, Unprotected, Swearing
Summary: On an adventure with the doctor, a man tries to take advantage of you in a rough area of a foreign market. The doctor is very protective, and it doesn’t help your obsessed with it.
A.N. - This is my first smut! All comment are appreciated, please be kind. All criticism is welcome, be kind and don’t eat pears! :)
You sat in the TARDIS console room, finally stopping to catch your breath after the exhausting few hours you had just endured. The Doctor decided he would take you to a market on a planet you couldn’t pronounce, which was true for most of the places he takes you. Thinks started getting scary when you got lost and ended up in that end of the market. (Similar to a red light district) You could see the nervousness in his face as men started walking up to you and asking for your price.
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“Is 500 interyen enough, sweetheart?” Asked a particularly insistent man who had gotten a hold of your arm.
“I’m not for sale” You bit out angrily, attempting to shake his arm off of you “just passing through.”
“Everything is for sale here darling” He said slyly, pulling you towards him.
“Not her” The doctor breathes out, barely above a whisper. He grabs you and rips the man’s arm off you. He then guides you out of the place with his hand on your lower back.
That’s when you looked at him only to be met with the rising fury in his eyes. Something you had only seen against the worst of enemies. The wrath of the time lord. You knew that this regeneration was extremely protective, and god did you love it.
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When you looked back on the interaction, the thing that stuck with you wasn’t the market, or the things you bought there, or even the man who grabbed you. It was him. His fiery eyes. His cologne. His protectiveness. Most especially, his baritone Scottish voice. The sound, deep and threatening, sent shivers down your spine. A demanding asset, but one that could whisper sweet nothings to you if he chose. He could captivate you by speaking the simplest things.
-Not her-
You crossed your legs to relieve some of the tension coiling in your stomach as you watched that very man walk back into the console room. He walked around the console on the side opposite of you and flipped a few levers. He walked around slightly to the right as if to approach you, but returned across from you. He gripped the edge of the console and dropped his head, scoffing.
“What’s that for?” You asked.
“He shouldn’t have touched you.” He said quickly and coldly, his head still dropped.
“It’s nothing we could help, doctor, it just-“
“No!” He cut you off, looking up into your eyes. “No man should lay a hand on you!” He raised his hands off the console and tugged his hair. Slowly walking towards where you sit. Power and rage emanating from him.
“Doctor please, it’s alright” You pleaded “Nothing happened to me, I’m fine.” You repeated. You were finding it extremely hard to concentrate with his voice protecting your honor.
“No, Y/n, I don’t think you get it.” He sighs “You aren’t a high dollar whore, you are one of the best beings in the universe. You deserve to be worshipped, not grabbed off the street” He continued, walking towards you still.
If you thought you couldn’t concentrate a minute ago, you had no hope now. His praises played over and over in your head. Your heartbeat quickened and your breaths became shallow. The ever growing ache in your stomach fighting the urge to escape as you squeezed your thighs together in hope of relief.
“That fucker should pay” He continued “He should know what he did, who he did it to. That you are… protected”
He had inched toward you so that he was standing about a foot away from where you sat. You looked into his eyes to see that fury once again, but this time there was something else. His eyes were enveloped with a darkening pupil. Your eyes were hooded with the weight of the lust behind them.
Before you knew what happened, he reached out, tangled his hand in your hair roughly. His lips met yours swiftly. Hard and passionate. You could feel all of his emotions in his searing touch and ragged movements. The breath had been knocked out of you. Your move your hands up and down the smooth fabric of his black suit that you adored. He only finally led up on his more-than-welcome assault to your lips when you needed to come up for air.
“You could’ve just said mine” You breathe against his lips, your faces still centimeters apart.
“What?” The doctor said between pants with audible confusion.
You smirk. “You said ‘He should know that you are… protected’, well you could’ve said” You paused, pulling your hips and body flush against his “that I am yours, or in context-”
“That you are mine. All mine” He cuts you off again.
Your breathing hitches in your throat, and he notices. Of course he does.
“Oh,” He smirks against your lips “someone likes being claimed, do they?”
“Only when it’s you” You quip back, prompting a dark chuckle from him. ‘and in that voice’ you think.
He leans down and brushes his lips against your ear. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You aren’t as good as you think you are at hiding those precious blushes and reactions when I speak.” He says in a particularly sultry tone, accentuating his accent just for you.
The melodic tone of his sexy voice has your eyes fluttering closed and your lips parting, soon being unable to bear the amount of tension.
“You’re right, He shouldn’t have touched what was mine.” He all but growled out, lust evident in his lowering voice.
He takes advantage of your leaned back head and leaves marks all over your neck. He made sure to make you whimper at every sensitive spot he could reach, leaving a soft bruise.
After recovering from the shock of the past few moments, you reach your hands underneath his suit coat and gently move to slide it off his body. He takes the jacket and throws it to the side dismissively, focused on you. He stands you up and kisses you more gently on the lips, with the hint of possession you craved. You stumbled backward and he pressed you against the console as he continued his trail of marks down your body. He would have to move clothing to reach other areas of your figure that he yearned to touch, but has yet to remove anything out of respect for you.
“Now darling, I know you aren’t holding back because of me, are you?” You say between pants. He looks back up into your eyes to see the suggestive smile dancing on your lips. He chuckles and hums lowly, sending a bolt of electricity up your body. You grabs his wrist and move it to touch the skin lying beneath your baggy t-shirt.
He grabs you by the waist underneath your shirt and kisses you gently on the lips. The touch was so… delicate. Contrary to the crime of passion he committed earlier. His lips left yours to stare in your eyes. He took a moment to admire the woman who had spent years following him to the ends of the universe with him. Y/n and her mad old man In a box.
"Well darling" he said in that tone designed to make you crazy "i want you to feel how much you deserve to be worshipped".
He raises your arms above your head and removes your t-shirt, casting it aside in the console room without caring where it landed. Immediately he attached his lips to your neck, kissing and biting slightly. He tilted your head back in order to reach the sweet spot under your jaw. His teeth scraped over it and you had to fight back a moan. Meanwhile, his hands wandered around the bare skin of your torso, settling on your back to unclasp your bra, casting it aside.
Not knowing what to do with yourself, you began to unbutton the white dress shirt he was wearing. Each button you unhooked revealed more of his pale figure. You removed the shirt and threw it aside to join the other pile of discarded clothing. You ran your hands all over the cool surface of his chest as he continued sucking and biting on the skin on your neck. He stepped back for a moment. He was just far enough that you could still feel the heat of his body as he looked you up and down.
"God you're beautiful, y/n"
He steps between your legs again, cups your face, and kisses you so tenderly. You press back into the kiss with a little more force, causing him to groan against your lips and move a hand to the back of your neck to steady himself. Your bare chests colliding. His voice playing over and over in your mind. You separate for a moment to rest your foreheads against each other with labored breaths.
“May I?” You say as your hands travel down his stomach the rest on his waistband, looking into his eyes for silent permission.
“Please… yes” He growled out between short breaths.
You trailed your hands over the fabric of his jeans, teasing him over the fabric. His breath hitched and he reached down and caught your hands.
“How about you first, darling?” His Scottish accent rolls the R right onto your skin and sends a major shiver up your spine. “I won’t last long if you tease me like that”
He pulls your hand up and kisses the back of it and drops it. He drops his hands to your jeans and unbuttons it with ease. He grabs the side of your pants and drops them around your ankles. You regain balance against the console and kick away the jeans to join the other long forgotten about garments.
He glides his hand under the hem of your underwear and slides his cool fingertips over your folds, noticing how wet he’s made you. He removes his hand and begins to pull the thin fabric down your legs slowly. He gets the fabric about to your knees before he kneels down to pull the fabric down your long legs, kissing the heated skin all the way to your ankles. After the garment is gone, he pulls his legs underneath him and sits up on his knees, eye level with where you want him most.
He puts his large hands on your hips to steady himself. He slides his hands down between your legs, pressing kisses to your outer thighs, pausing to look up at you through heavy eyelids. Suddenly, he slid his hands over your wetness once again. You silently praised him for his experience with the fairer sex because he managed to find your clit quicker than any man could find a light switch. Your head drops back against the console, your mouth gaping open at the sensation. He used his thumb to circle the bundle of nerves while his other fingers roamed curiously. You turned to see the glorious sight of the most powerful man in the universe, on his knees just to please you. You silently prayed you would get to return the favor at some point.
You locked eyes as he used his index finger to probe into your core, then quickly adding his middle when he was sure it wouldn’t cause you pain. You unconsciously slid a hand into his long silver hair, searching relentlessly for something to steady yourself. He steadily curls and uncurls his fingers inside your core, thrusting a bit further into you each time in hopes to reach your sweet spot. His slender and powerful fingers had no problem identifying the spot that made your toes curl and abusing it. Your legs started shaking from having to stand and withstand the pleasure he was giving you. He pressed kisses to your inner thigh, continuing his ministrations while guiding you leg onto his shoulder. He did the same to your other leg and he kept your hips firmly pressed into the wall so you wouldn’t fall.
He couldn’t help but watch the involuntary faces you made due to his manipulation. He withdrew his fingers from you and you whimpered at the loss of contact, tugging his hair slightly. He very quickly replaced where his fingers were with his skilled tongue. A loud moan escaped your lips and he groaned against your core, the vibrations only making the pleasure more unbearable.
“Fuck, you taste so fucking good, love.”
He added more pressure, combined with his tongue flicking back and forth against your clit and moving to tease your entrance. God his voice. You couldn’t imagine any other sound that turned you on as much as that. The pool of heat started to build slowly in your lower abdomen. He brought his thumb to tease your clit once again.
“Please… do-don’t stop. I’m s-so close, doctor”
He continued at a feverish pace, steadying your figure with his hands having a tight grip on your thighs that were draped over his shoulders. You could feel yourself get to the very cusp. Your vision started blurring. Mixes of moans, pleas, and groans streamed out of your mouth. The white hot feeling fast approaching when it all of a sudden hits like a freight train. The most guttural moan left your mouth, the pure want and relief leaving your body. He moved your legs back to their original positions, being careful to keep your weight help up. He licked you clean through your orgasm and kissed his way back up to leave a searing kiss on your lips.
“Do you have… a bedroom, doctor?” You say when you have regained enough consciousness to form sentences.
“I’ll lead the way”
He grabs your hand and slowly navigated the TARDIS hallways in an attempt to find his room, being careful to make sure you can keep up with your shaky footing. Eventually, he stops at an unassuming dark blue door, and opens it. Inside are piles upon piles of books and his other belongings. To be honest, you could look at the collection later, but right now there was something else on both of your minds. He closes the door behind him and kisses you again. He backs you up until you hit the beam. You crawled onto the bed and laid down below him submissively. He crawls on top of you and doesn’t break a string of curses for anything. He unbuttoned his pants and discarded them, along with the boxer underneath. He was one hell of a man. His lean figure and his pale skin. You reach out and stroke him, observing the look of pleasure on his face.
“Do you need more time?” He asked, clearly aching with anticipation, but still values your safety and concerns over anything.
“No, please doc, I need you”
The few words was all the permission he needed to coax himself into your tight core. The sounds that came out of him were unholy. As were the sounds he forced out of you. He stayed inside so you could adjust to his size. When he saw your face distort in pleasure, he took the hint to start moving in and out. He filled you so completely. The passion between you made it feel like two pieces of a puzzle, finally fitting together. You longed for every part of him you could reach. Skin gliding across skin. Fingers caught in your lovers hair. Nails scratching up and down his scarred back. The sweet nothings drove you crazy.
“You’re mine”
“You feel so good”
“You are my universe, and every star in it”
“Oh, y/n”
Most of all you loved the love letters he spoke in Gallifreyan that you couldn’t understand. The mystery of the language and pronunciations fascinated you. The tone and his admiration made your senses heighten and all the pressure build quickly once again. You could feel the doctor start to tremble, knowing he’s doing everything he can to hold back until you were satisfied. He leaned down and nipped at the skin underneath your jaw, eliciting the loudest moans you thought you could muster. He picked up your hips and started thrusting into you sloppily, now hitting both your clit and g-spot. You couldn’t even warn the doctor before you came, the euphoria taking over every spot of your vision, leaving you seeing stars. He thrust a few more times lazily and you could feel the tension snap. He spilled into you, holding you tightly as he steadied himself.
He pulled himself out of you and layer next to you. You could see the layer of sweat covering his body. You leaned over and rested your head on his chest.
“I’m yours” You breathed against his chest
“Y/n?”
“Yes doctor?”
“I want to make sure that you know… well” He hesitated then sighed “That I love you”
You looked into his eyes “I love you too doctor, never forget it” He sighed a sigh of relief this time.
“I really liked it when you said that”
“I’ll do it more often, darling. Just for you”
You were lulled to sleep by the soothing sounds of the TARDIS humming on the chest of the doctor. Your doctor. Limbs tangled with limbs, draped it the light of a thousand stars. All was as it should be.
Now on AO3
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millyhelp · 5 months
Note
ceo Jason made me feel things 🫠 can you give us more of himmm? Pls
Ofc! If you want to ask me for more from Jason, feel free! My asks is open!
Warnings: smut, smut, smut.
CEO!Jason Todd
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Jason was stressed. He had just left a meeting and there he discovered that he lost shares because of Roy. The big hands ran furiously through his black hair.
"I'm going to kill, Harper..." he muttered to himself as he stood in his office.
He got up and went towards the table where there were some expensive whiskeys and burbons. He poured some neat whiskey into a crystal tumbler and loosened his tie.
Jason sat on the large black leather sofa and his mind began to wander in thoughts. You. He started thinking about you and how you calm him, how he calms himself when have his mouth between your legs.
He felt his cock swell in his pants at the thought of the beautiful sounds you make when he runs his tongue hungrily across your wet folds. He ran his hands through his hair again and drank some more whiskey.
This is no time to get an erection.
His desk phone rings. "Mister Todd. Your fiancée, Yn is here. Can she get in?"
As soon as Jason heard your name, he let out a small growl. It seems that God heard him and sent you to him. He walked to his desk and pressed the button to answer the secretary.
"Let her in. Now." He said in the powerful, heavy voice of a man in need.
It didn't take long for Jason to hear small knocks on the door. He basically ran to your door and gave you a happy, hungry smile when he saw you.
"Hey, Jace. I-" You started to speak but Jason pulled you inside and locked the door right after.
Before you could start talking again he pulled you into a needless kiss. His tongue dancing next to yours and the taste of whiskey on the tip of his tongue made you whimper in his arms.
Breathless, he placed his forehead against yours. "What... What happened to you?"
You asked, your voice low and struggling to breathe properly. Jason's hands squeezed your hips tightly.
"I need you." His voice was hoarse with desire.
"Calm down, tiger." You gave a cute giggle that made Jason's dick throb even more. "I came to bring you a gift and you attack me like that? Where are your manners, Mr. Todd?"
Jason let out a growl and pulled away from you a little. So he can see, you really had something on your hands. A Black box with a red bow.
"Can I see this later? I really need you, doll." His voice was sweet and seductive. You gave a smile.
"Noup." You pulled out of his grip on your hip and walked over to his desk and placed the box there. "You will see my gift first."
Jason shook his head and laughed. Stubborn little girl, that was you and he loved that. He walked over to you and as he walked over to you, you could notice Jason's big cock marking his pants. Your pussy clenched into emptiness. No, the gift first. so you thought.
"What did my pretty girl bring to me? huh?" Jason smiled "Whatever it is, I'll reward you for it" he took the box in his hands
"I don't need rewards for giving you gifts Jason... I don't like receiving your expensive things-" Jason interrupted you
"That's not the kind of reward I'm talking about, doll" His voice gave you goosebumps and you got red. You understood what he meant. "Can I open it?" he raised an eyebrow and shook the box in his hands.
"Yes, sir." You bit your lip.
Jason opened the box and inside was a box of cookies you made (they're his favorite) and a picture frame with a photo of the two of you together on a trip he took you to Paris. In the photo you are hugging him tightly as he takes a selfie of the two of you, Jason's lips were curved in a happy smile and your cheeks were rosy, and of course, the Eiffel tower in the background.
Fuck. Jason sometimes felt like he was perverting you. You are such a cute girl who gives cute gifts, and he is a tough and perverted guy that wants to give you expensive gifts that he will tear after.
"Did you liked it?..." You asked apprehensively. Jason then realized he took too long to respond.
"I love it" Jason gave an irresistible smile, he took the picture frame and placed it on his desk. "My pretty girl, you want me to see you all the time? huh?" he said in a teasing tone and walked closer to you, he pulled you towards him and your chests collided.
"What?... No... I mean..." You fumbled for words. With every innocent blink of his eyelashes, Jason held back a growl. he wants you, now.
"Take off your clothes." he said in a commanding voice. Oh, he's going to be that Jason. "Nevermind. I will fuck you in this dress."
Your cheeks turned red. You were wearing a black dress that reached halfway up your thighs.
Jason picked you up by your thighs and laid you down on the large sofa.
"Jace..." You sigh when you feel his kisses on your inner thigh.
"I need you. will you be good to me? huh?" he pressed a kiss to your panty covered wetness. "Will you be a good girl for me?"
You whimpered and nodded.
"Words, princess. I want words..." He looked at you with his ice blue eyes, his pupils dilated with lust.
"Ye..." Jason ran his tongue across ypur clothed clit "hmm yes! Yes, Jace! I will-oh be a good girl for yo- uh"
Jason smiled as he saw you squirm with just a few touches. It's always been like this since the day he perverted you. The virgin girl who had never been touched. He feels honored to be your only man, and he intends to be that way, the engagement ring with the big stone on your finger said a lot about that.
Jason took off your panties and put them in his pants pocket. First he ran his nose over your intimacy. Fuck, he loves your smell.
Jason began to eat you with his mouth like a hungry man. The wet sounds made you squeeze around out of nothing. Your whimpers were music to Jason's ear.
"Does my pretty girl like these dirty sounds? huh? Do you like it when I do it like this?" He said looking at you through his eyelashes. He just stuck a finger in your pussy and you automatically pressed yourself against him. "Fuckkk. You're squeezing yourself like that with just one finger, I can't wait to be my cock. You’re going to milk me so well.”
you loved how much Jason talked dirty to you. He knows that. Jason returned his tongue to her clitoris and his finger moving back and forth inside her.
"Hmmm can you take another one, babe?" He asked with his mouth on your clit sending vibrations into you.
You were feeling your climax close. You nodded and agreed with a groan. Jason put another finger in you and bent them to hit your G-spot. You trembled.
"C-close, I'm so- uh, so close" You groaned, your eyes rolling back and your legs shaking. Jason smiled and sucked you with more pressure.
"Come on my fingers, do a mess, princess"
It was like a switch. you exploded into Jason’s fingers, clenching even tighter. Jason rubbed his big erection on the couch. he needs you.
"That's my girl... my good girl..." Jason smiles and kisses the inside of your still-trembling thigh. "You okay, awnser me, princess"
"Yes, Jace... I'm okay" You replied with your eyes closed. Jason climbed on top of you and he started placing kisses on your face and you laughed.
"Open those beautiful eyes for me, doll" he said smiling and you opened your eyes. "There she is. You know I'm not done with you, right?"
"Yes..." You smiled.
"Let's go home? Can you walk or are your legs still shaking?" He sat down and pulled you onto his lap. "I wasn't hard on you, was I?"
"No, Jay. you were perfect as always" you hid your face in his neck "can we wait a bit? My legs are still shaking and my vision is still blurry"
"Of course, my angel" Jason kissed your shoulder with a smile.
This had just begun.
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I want this man for me 🫠
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sanspuppet · 4 months
Text
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GENRE: fluff, smut w a lot of romance (?)
PAIRING: Heesung x afab! reader
W/T: university au, lil bit of jealousy, unprotected sex, biting, swearing, pet name (princess)
A/O: i know that Hee doesn’t have much to do with my blog but this is the ff i wrote for my bestie and i’m just gonna post it so yeah, remember that i’m a multi-stan so i write for many other groups apart from ateez
enjoy <3
———
"come on! it'll be fun!" Jeongin tries to encourage you, his hands begging at your pissed expression because of his hundredth attempt to invite you at his party.
"i don't want to! i don't know anyone of your friends" you reply back with a sharp tone, it’s almost a week that he keeps asking you to come, and he can’t comprehend that you have no intention to go.
"Oh yeah! there's one: Heesung! that guy from class 3B" he winks at you with a smirk already trailing on his face.
"Another reason not to go there!" you quiver, body stiffening the same second he pronounces his name. Actually, if there’s Lee Heesung too, you could think about it a couple times and accept. Through all, he’s the finest man at your university, no doubts he’s your secret crush, well not that secret because it seems that Jeongin has already found out.
"But it's a good opportunity to talk to him!" his voice booms inside the classroom, all of your classmates turn back to look at you, your professor violently slams his palm on the desk: "You two! Better keep those mouths closed during my classes!" you hush a quick "excuse us" before turning back to focus on algebra.
Hours later, when the last school bell rang, you leave the university, arm crossed while walking down the street, with Heesung's smile pictured in your mind and dangerously lost in yourself while fantasizing about him. The stoplight turns red, which unfortunately you don’t pay attention to, you’re about to cross the road when someone thoughtfully grabs your waist, fingertips gripping at your skin, trying to stop you. Your heart flutters intensely, goosebumps on your body as you hear a familiar voice beginning: "you should pay more attention while walking" oh no, you perfectly recognize that voice, sweet but at the same time extremely attractive, you can’t help but turning your face to look at him, panic already flowing into your body. "U-uhm... sorry" Heesung smiles for a millisecond before turning back to his serious expression: "you don't have to be sorry, just wanted to warn you darling" maybe how he called you is the reason why you keep stuttering and trembling like a shy kiddo: "Y-yeah..." you suddenly grimace, confused: "w-why are you here?" you question. "Oh, you didn't notice? i live near your house" you mouth a small "o" before you could even realize what he actually said: "Wait- what?!" he blinks twice, his hands involuntarily still gripping at your waist, a strange feeling intensifying inside the core of your stomach. “i. live. near. you.” he repeats, marking every word, not in a arrogant way, but in a beamy one. When he realizes that you aren’t going to say anything, he approaches you with an another argument: “Well, wanna walk together? I.N. told me that you’ll come at his party” you wide your eyes, following him hesitantly as he crosses the road. “What? No! Nono i don’t like that kind of party” He raises an eyebrow:
“…what kind of party do you like then? like a… uhm” he bemuses, you shake your hands, trying to clarify: “No! I mean… I’m the only girl in the group and i’m quite worried about it” when he turns his head to face you, you can’t believe he purposely holds your hand. “I understand, don’t worry! You know i wouldn’t let anything happen to you, right? Such a good girl, you don’t deserve to get into that kind of shit” you can hear your heartbeat booming inside your head, mind blank as you keep repeating his last sentence to yourself, barely capable to think at any reply. “Please, i want to know you better! Come with me, and you’ll be sure no one will make fun of you, or touch you in any way” he insists, tightening the grip on your hand.
okey, are you dreaming? are you in a coma, after a car invested you? What the hell is happening? All of your day dreams about him seem becoming reality as he’s begging you to accompany him. You’re not conscious of your blushing state in this moment, smiling pathetically, lost in yourself as you’re trying to realize your current situation. And you finally cooe: “Well, if you say so… i’ll be more than glad to come!”
Heesung raises a fist happily: “That’s my girl! i mean… happy to see you again y/n” he stops in front of a small, cute little house. He sighs, taking a heavy breath before continuing: “i live here… alone, so if you need something, you can find me here.” you bow slightly, smiling uncontrollably. “Got it! See you at the party, then.” He keeps staring at you without leaving: “What? So i’m not gonna pick you up?”
“Oh… uhm, yes! yes, sure. Sorry” you beam back.
“Okey, shall we share our phone numbers?” he asks, taking his phone in his hands, ready to take notes. When you’re both sure that the other has the contact saved, Hee shakes his hand and heads towards the door of his home.
The evening of the same day, you can’t help but keep fantasizing about how would it be to spend hours with Heesung at your side. Having him that close to you, would probably drive your mind nuts, but what if he was talking seriously hours before? He seriously wants to get to know you better? Well, if so, you’d surely go to that party. Knowing that it’s quite easy to convince you in anything when it comes to Heesung, you already start choosing what to wear at the party of the next day.
“Mmm” you scratch your chin, looking at your dresses hanging inside your wardrobe. “What should i-“ the loud sound of your ringtone makes you suddenly hop. You check the name written on the screen, snorting when you see the name of your best friend.
“What do you want?” you tilt your head to squeeze your phone between your ear and shoulder, picking your favorite dresses and throwing them on your bed.
“You’re coming?!! God, you fucking drool for Heesung, don’t you???” you hear Jeongin beaming through the speaker.
“Me? No, no absolutely.” you find yourself staring intensely at one dress in particular: the fabric of a soft white, its skirt’s quite short and has elegant lace sleeves. You choose that one, while keep listening to Jeongin freak out from happiness.
“Well, whatever. You’re gonna come too!!!” he starts to giggle joyfully.
“Yeah, now please calm down. Also, i have to go now, bye!” you end the call without even waiting for him to say anything else. The only thing you want right now is staring at the selfie of Heesung that he has set as his profile picture. So you did, laying on your bed, after putting carefully in place your dresses again.
“Ooh… he’s such so handsome and cute”
You whimper seeing the notification of someone texting you appearing from above the phone screen. A pang hits your heart when you realize it’s Heesung.
< Hey, tomorrow the party begins at 6 p.m. Imma pick you up by 5.45, is that okay? >
You smile like an idiot while texting back: < Perfect! >
That night you fall asleep, lost again in the thought of his cherishing smile and how simply gorgeous he always is.
And as soon as you do, as soon you wake up, squeezing your eyes from the warm light of the sunrise. You suddenly grip at your hair, your heartbeat starts accelerating as you process: “The party is today!”
Now that you have realized it, you can’t stop waiting impatiently for afternoon to come. You force yourself to distract your mind, doing chores and your homework, listening to music and practicing the dance steps you learned at your last dance lesson. Doing that you don’t even feel the hours that have passed, making you bounce slightly on the spot as you read what time it is.
“God i have to get ready!” you jolt while running towards your bathroom, starting to do your makeup. You keep checking the time on your wristwatch, and once you have your look done and prepared all the stuff you’d need, you leave the house and chuckle shyly as you see Heesung standing in front of his car a few meters apart from you.
“Hi y/n! How are you?” He approaches you, giving you his hand to help you get inside of his car.
“Pretty fine” you affirm after he joined you inside it.
The short journey was something you could define totally embarrassing, you were frustrated because you couldn’t do anything but stare outside the window and tap nervously your fingertips on the handle. He was the one that after some minutes that seemed eternal hours find the courage to speak:
“Uhm… that dress is so beautiful, matches your vibes a lot” he turns his head to take a quick look of you before his gaze could go back at the road. “Thank you, Heesung” you smile genuinely. He giggles back: “Oh please, just call me Hee. We’re friends after all, right?” what your previous smile seemed full of happiness, it quickly turned into a wounded one. “Yeah… friends”
———
Once you enter the apartment, you didn’t expect it to be so well organized: cute colorful balloons fill the living room, yummy snacks all over the table followed by soda and other drinks, background music to keep the welcoming atmosphere. When you step out the entrance you immediately see Jeongin’s friends casually chatting on the small couch.
“Naur way look who’s here!” Jake exclaims as he notices your figure standing in front of them. You chuckle at his funny Aussie accent.
“Yeah personally i know you couldn’t wait anymore to see me” Heesung smirks, heading towards Jeongin who’s trying to inflate other balloons. “Hyung i think these are enough, yeah?” he whispers at him, noticing his red, overworked cheeks.
Jake turns his head to look at Hee, grimacing: “What? No i meant y/n! Didn’t expect you to come” He approaches you, with the intention of hugging you friendly. After he pulls away, the other boys stand up to do the exact same. You thank Jay, Chan and Beomgyu as they compliment your curated look.
You spent a couple hours on watching a comedy show and laughing together. Your body stiffened any time you felt Heesung’s hand resting (apparently) innocently on your knee, when you saw him facing you while giggling as he enjoyed the film, it seriously looked like you were a couple, and you weren’t the only one who noticed that:
Chan’s gaze suddenly went to your knee, as he saw Heesung rubbing his hand on your skin.
“Are you hiding us something, guys? Seems like you’re very comfortable together.”
Chan’s your ex, so you could tell that his voice had some point of annoyance when he spoke.
“Yeah! I was about to say the same thing” Beomgyu smirks, moving his eyes on you and the fine guy who’s sitting next to you.
“Oh, it does? Sorry if i might stole her from you” Heesung appeals with his cocky smile.
“It’s not up to you, Hee” Chan replies, a slight look of arrogance on his face surprises you. “Right, y/n?”
“Uhm… well…” you struggle to find any appropriate answer, but nothing comes to your mind. Jeongin fortunately saves you from that embarrassing situation:
“Let’s play a game!” He stands up, turning off the tv. Jay and Jake that were still focusing on the program, whined at him.
“Fine” Heesung stands up, searching for your hand and heading towards Jeongin. A smirk pops into the childish friend’s face, he crosses his arm looking intensely at the both of you through his hooded eyes.
“Y/n, truth or dare?”
The moment after the other guys heard that iconic question, every one was sitting on the rug in a circle, waiting for their turn as they joined the game. It was quite fun, most of the dares were hilarious that got you almost rolling on the floor from laughter, but once it got repetitive and your friend seemed bored, Jeongin once again proposed you:
“Y/n, truth or dare?” this time his gaze is mysterious enough for you to suspect he planned something.
“Uhm… dare?” you murmur, not sure if you chose the right answer to keep your dignity.
“I see” Jeonging looks straight at Heesung on your left, before moving his gaze on you again. “Kiss Heesung”
Loud “Uuuh” fill the atmosphere as the guys find finally a captivating idea, everyone but Bangchan, who seems about to kill Jeonging with his stare and choke Heesung before he could touch you.
Panic starts to rush inside your veins as you turn your head and see Heesung smirking, you can feel the eyes of all the others stuck on your lips, waiting impatiently for you to make a move, but nothing, you couldn’t even elaborate any conscious movement. You’re like a greek statue, immobilized, your eyes focusing on nothing but Hee’s lips, your hand standing steady on the ingenious intent of wrapping it around his waist. Heesung chuckles: “y/n? are you’k?” he snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Fine, I’ll do it myself.”
What it took least than two seconds, felt an entire minute for you.
You feel Heesung carding his fingers through your hair, before falling on the nape of your neck to pull you closer to his face, the tip of your noses rubbing against each other as he’s moving his lips closer and closer to yours. It felt warm, and soft, something you never experienced in that way, you could immediately tell that you would be addicted to his lips, if only he could be yours.
Heesung pulls away, exhaling a soft laugh as he holds your hand. “You good?” he asks, you nod: “Yeah. Yeah i’m good” you murmur, smiling a little before turning your head to face the others. Beomgyu, Jake, Jay an Jeongin are hyping the both of you, on the other side you can notice Chan squeezing his fists as he keeps staring at you. “What’s wrong with him?” you question yourself.
Jeongin giggles at you and Heesung: “I meant a peck on the cheek but well, this proves that you like each other! Thank me later guys” he stands up, taking the bowl of chips and starts to chew a few.
“W-wait- What?” your mouth hangs open, while Hee is simply smiling at you.
The rest of the party went great, you had funny conversations and ate tasty food.
Later, you head towards the exit, where you left your jacket and phone, you barely even check your new notifications, that you feel a hand resting on your shoulder, you expect it to be Heesung and uncontrollably smile, but once you turn your head to see his face, you find yourself a few inches away from Chan. He’s moving closer to your lips to steal a kiss from you. You pull him away, smacking your palm against his face.
“What the hell are you doing? Huh?” you screech.
“Come on, don’t act like you don’t want it, we were so perfect as a couple, you look better with me than Heesung” He gets closer to you slowly once again, but you’re too concerned to move. You jolt as you see someone pulling Chan away from you by grabbing his shoulder.
“What’s going on here?” Heesung looks at you before moving his annoyed gaze to Chan. “Why would you care?” he replies, with his arms crossed.
“Because she just rejected you a few seconds ago, don’t you get that she doesn’t like you anymore?” you can’t articulate anything before he wraps his arm around your waist and yell at the others in the living room.
“Guys, it was fun but now i have to take y/n home, see you on Monday” Heesung takes your jackets and leaves the house with you squeezed in his arm.
Not long after he stops in front of his house, you’re still confused from why he reacted like that before, you don’t realize that it isn’t actually your house. Heesung gets out of the car. “Come with me” he called you, heading towards the door.
Once you’re both inside, he turns to look at you, taking your hands in his. “You’re not interested in Chan anymore, right?” you nod: “Yeah, i’m not.” he lets out a relieved sigh. “Good, because i like you” you start to mumble incomprehensible words. “U-uhm…” Heesung notices that your cheeks are turning into a blushing state, making him chuckle. “You don’t need to say anything, just kiss me already, okey?” he slowly approaches you, getting closer enough for you to feel his warm, deep breaths against you nose, his hands are trailing soft lines on your back, sending you shivers down your spine. You automatically raise on your tiptoes, holding yourself onto his shoulder. You start to leave small pecks on his hot lips, struggling to stop because of the warm feeling of his body. Hee chuckles between every kiss: “i see, you love me, don’t you?” you giggle against the crook of his neck: “Yeah, so much.”
“May i take care of you? Show you how much do i love you, too?” he leans over you neck to inhale your sweet scent. “Mark you as mine, so you won’t get bothered by other guys?” you take a few seconds to realize what he actually meant with those words. “Uhm… i don’t know…” He caresses your cheek, attaching his lips on yours another time. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt. Please, let’s be each other’s first” You chuckle: “I can’t believe you’re still a virgin” he wides his eyes, smiling: “Why?? I had only a girlfriend when i was 14, you’re the one i fell for, after a long time.” you bite your lower lip, looking down to avoid eye contact. “It’s just that… i’m worried i won’t be good enough” he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he walks backwards, heading towards what you figure to be his bedroom. “You’ll be perfect as always, my little princess” you can’t help but blush at that new petname, that stole another smile from you. A few seconds later he’s opening the door with you still holding at his waist. He sits on the edge of the mattress, looking up at you with doe eyes. You suddenly get shy as you realize that you started unconsciously to strip, hiking up slowly your dress as you expose your bare legs and stomach to him, the man that you craved for three years. He holds himself on his wrists, watching carefully every detail of your body, already struggling to contain any reaction from his body. “Oh god, you’re so beautiful” he murmurs, biting his cheeks to avoid any flustering sound. You jump onto his lap with your legs wrapped around his waist, Hee starts to kiss you deeply as you busy yourself by unbuttoning his shirt. Your tongue dives into his mouth, while trailing your hands all over his naked chest. You push him, getting him completely layed on his bed. You’re still asking yourself where did you find enough confidence to do all of this, when you bite on his neck, smirking against his red skin. “Untie it, Hee” as soon as he hears you, you feel your bra falling off of your body, hearing it thrown on the floor. Heesung grabs your waist, forcing you to switch your positions. You see his unmistakable smirk glued onto your face, but it doesn’t take long before he moves it down your breast. “Are you sure you’re ready, princess?” he asks you, caressing your waist side. “i trust you” “Glad you do, baby” he stands up, untying his belt before unzipping his jeans. Not long after he throws them on the floor, then focuses again on nothing else but you. Hee leans over you, making his way down your body with small kisses, once he reaches your lower abdomen, he slowly drags you panties down your legs. “So pretty, tell me…” he stops by biting slightly on your hips. “Want me to wear a condom? I’m clean, just to let you know.” you shake your head. “I’m too, and on a birth control” Heesung nods, positioning himself between your wided legs. “Got you” you breathe heavily, when you watch him dragging down his boxers, inhaling the air deeply to force yourself to slow down your heartbeat. You squeeze your eyes when you get to see his cock standing between your wet core. It’s just about a few seconds that you finally feel him burying himself inside you. He lets out a sweet groan, holding his breath when you involuntarily squeeze around him. “Fuck, didn’t expect it to be this good” he slowly pulls out, trying to feel every sensation. “Do you like it?” He watches your aroused face. “Yeah, please, go on” You watch him smirking through your eyelashes. “Didn’t hear you, may you repeat darling?” you sigh, smiling. “Huh, please i want you”
Heesung holds onto your knees, making sure you stay spread for him, while he slides into you another time, then out, repeating the same movements as he speeds the pace. You try to stay still, gripping harshly at the sheets beneath you, your eyes roll back as you feel him touching your sweet spot with every thrust.
“Fuck- just like that, please” you mewl, letting out whimpers when the pleasure builds tension inside your lower stomach.
He moans back once. “Never thought you could make such sweet noises.” he smiles, eyes shut as he feels himself getting closer to his climax. Surely the way you keep clenching around his length doesn’t help him to last longer, and surely the fact that his tip’s kissing your g-spot continuously from minutes is getting you to the edge very quickly. You let out a broken, high pitched moans when you feel pure arousal hitting your body, making you arch your back from pleasure. “Fuck- faster, now!” he does immediately as you say, slamming his pelvis against your thighs gap as fast as he can, the sound of your skin slapping against each other’s booms inside the room, followed by nasty, squelching sounds at every pump. Heesung leans over you to help himself thrusting into you better. “So close~ cum for me princess” Your breathe loudly, as soon as you cream around him you feel hot ropes of his cum shooting inside you. His thrusts become sloppy when he slows down, pulling out after a few more pumps.
“You’re so beautiful right now, all fucked out because of me, i think i like you better like this.” he leans over to steal another deep kiss, his hands reaching instinctively your bare breast. “You did so good for me, you need a treat babe” you smile the best you can, still trying to get down your high. “Like…?” Heesung leaves a small peck on your right cheek. “What about a warm bath? I said i’m gonna take good care of you.” he cards his fingers through your hair, caressing your forehead.
“Will you let me do it forever?”
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cybrsan · 11 months
Note
congratulations!!
maybe a smut drabble with yunho of #106? best friends to lovers when reader’s ex cheats on them and reader was at the club a couple days later, looking for a rebound
yunho has been pining over reader and got jealous when he found out her intentions..
kind of angsty with possessive yunho!!
Thank you! Enjoy <3
Prompt:  106. "I'm going to fuck you until you forget that asshole's name." Pairing: Best Friend!Yunho x F!Reader Genre: Angst, smut Word Count: 2k Tags/warnings: Alcohol use, friends to lovers, rebound sex, unresolved feelings
Requests are currently closed, but my masterlist can be found here.
You sit at the bar, ordering another shot. You've lost count of how many you have had at this point, not caring in the slightest. In fact, you hope you get drunk. You want the sweet, sweet bliss of oblivion that comes with being blacked out so that you can forget the pain that has been eating at you ever since you walked in on your ex-boyfriend cheating a few days ago. 
Your friends who have accompanied you have all wandered off at this point, enjoying their own activities. Everyone except Yunho, who has stuck to your side like glue the entire night.  You love being around him, and you appreciate the fact that he wants to take care of you, but having a guy who’s 6 feet tall hovering around you is really getting in the way of your main goal—finding a rebound. 
Downing your shot, you swivel in your stool and face him. "Yunho.”
“Yeah, what’s up? How are you feeling?” 
“Suffocated.” 
“What?” 
He looks a bit hurt, so you backtrack, not having intended to come off so harshly. “Yunho, I love you. I do. You are my best friend, and I love hanging out with you. But I really want to find a guy to hook up with, and having you around is preventing anyone from approaching me because they think you’re my boyfriend.” 
“Wait, that’s why we’re here?” he asks, eyes widening. “I thought you just wanted to clear your head.” 
“Yeah, by having someone fuck the thoughts right out of me.” 
Yunho just stares at you, not saying anything. His ears are slightly red, and you can only assume your vulgarity has left him feeling embarrassed. You’ve never talked about stuff like this with him before; obviously, the alcohol in your system has made you a bit too bold. Feeling awkward, you stand up to leave when he suddenly reaches out and grabs your wrist, pulling you back toward him. 
“I don’t think it’s safe for you to go home with a random guy.” His words express his concern for you, but his eyes are laced with an emotion you can’t quite place. 
“Yunho, I’m a grown woman. I can make choices for myself.”
“I know that,” he says, grip tightening slightly. “But I don’t want you to go home with a random guy.” 
Your eyes widen. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating what you think he is. 
“Then who should I go home with?”
He doesn’t answer right away, teeth worrying his lower lip. He looks unsure of something, but his hesitance only lasts for a moment before he steels his gaze, looking at you with newfound confidence.
“Me.”
“You? Wait, Yunho, you mean—”
“Yeah. I’ll help you clear your head.”
Before you can argue, he’s throwing a wad of cash down onto the bartop and texting in your group chat, letting everyone know he’s taking you home. No one will think twice about it, knowing that he’s always the one who takes care of you after a wild night out. They wouldn’t ever think his words might have a different meaning.   
The car ride is quick, the air between you thick with anticipation. When you get to Yunho’s apartment, you aren’t sure what to expect. You think that maybe it will be something straight out of a movie—he’ll throw you up against a wall, confess his feelings for you, and take you right then and there. But that doesn’t happen.
It’s just like any other time you’ve been at his apartment, so much so that you almost think you imagined everything. He takes your jacket from you and hangs it up, then gets you a glass of water that you make quick work of, mouth dry from anxiety. He sits on one of the kitchen chairs, watching you as you stand there awkwardly, unsure of what’s to come next. 
“Why do you look so nervous?” he asks, tone light and teasing.
Hearing his voice relaxes you, helps you remember that this is Yunho you’re with—your Yunho—and you have nothing to worry about. 
“Why do you think?” 
He chuckles and beckons you forward, patting the seat next to him. You sit, and he pulls your chair closer to his, letting his hand rest on your thigh. His touch is featherlight, but it’s enough to make you jump. His thumb rubs soothingly against your skin and he lifts your chin with his opposite hand so that you’re forced to look him in the eyes. You hadn’t even realized you were avoiding his gaze until now. 
“Y/N… I need to know that you want this. That you won’t regret it.”
“So you were serious about what you said back there at the bar?” 
You shouldn’t be so shocked, but you can’t help it. People have always joked about the two of you having feelings for one another, and maybe there was something between you before you met your last boyfriend, but neither of you ever acted on anything. No drunken kisses, no hints dropped, no late-night confessions forgotten in the morning…
“Of course I was,” he says. “I want you. I have for a while now, even before everything with your ex.” 
“Yunho…” 
“I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings, at least not right now. I don’t care if we only keep things physical, but I need you to genuinely want it.” 
You should think this through, consider all the possibilities. Do you have feelings for Yunho? What will this do to your relationship with him? But the answer comes to you so easily that you don’t have time to fight it. “I do. I want this.” 
Once he has your full consent, it’s as if a switch inside of him clicks. His eyes darken, and he grabs your hips, pulling you off of your chair and halfway onto his lap as he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. 
“Good,” he murmurs, breath hot against your skin. “I’m going to fuck you until you forget that asshole’s name.”  
His words make your thighs clench instinctively, his boldness taking you off guard. He stands up, keeping you close, and walks you to his bedroom, tossing you unceremoniously onto the bed.  You can’t help but laugh at his eagerness, making him smile as he unbuttons his shirt. You ogle him, taking in his tan skin and toned stomach. His body is obviously that of a dancer’s, and you make a mental note to tell him that his hard work is paying off. 
“Like what you see?” he jokes, spinning for you as if showing himself off. 
“Yes, now get over here already.” 
Never one to deny you, he kneels on the bed and lowers himself on top of you. He returns his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily as his hands explore your body. He grabs the bottom of your shirt, fingers brushing over the skin of your stomach, and tugs it off of you. 
Having gone braless, your chest is immediately exposed to him, and he groans at the sight, eagerly taking all of you in. You thought you might feel shy under his gaze, but instead, he only makes you feel desired. He dips his head down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. You moan, arching your back as pleasure jolts through you. 
Once he’s satisfied, he trails kisses down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your pants. He looks up at you through his lashes, waiting. 
“Can I…?” he lets his words trail off. 
“Yes, Yunho, yes,” you beg, writhing underneath him, desperate for more of his touch. 
In the blink of an eye, he’s freeing you of your pants and your underwear along with them before eagerly shoving his face into your cunt. You can’t hold back your moans as his tongue moves against you expertly, as if he somehow knows exactly what to do to bring you to the edge. When he slides a finger into your entrance, prepping you for his cock, your thighs clench around his head. Unbothered, Yunho continues, teasing your clit with his tongue as he adds a second finger, scissoring them inside of you. You can feel your orgasm building with each passing second, and you tug at his hair, pulling him off of you. 
“Don’t wanna come like this,” you pant, chest heaving. “Want you inside me.” 
Yunho groans and pulls his fingers out of you. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” 
He hurriedly takes off his pants and boxers, letting his cock spring free. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of it; it’s long, longer than any you’ve had before, slender but curved in a way that has you desperate, clenching around nothing. He grabs a condom from his nightstand and slowly rolls it over himself, thrusting a few times into his hand. You’re pretty sure that you could come from that sight alone—maybe you can revisit that another time. 
“Come here,” you whine, grabbing for him. 
Never one to deny you, he kneels on the bad and lowers himself over you, kissing you as he aligns himself with your entrance. You tangle your hands in his hair and angle your hips to meet him, moaning as he pushes inside of you. He lets out a strangled noise, eyebrows pinching together. You can tell he’s struggling to control his pace as he lets you adjust to the size of him, but you don’t want him to be considerate. You need him, all of him, now. 
Hooking your legs around his waist, you pull him closer to you, spurring him on. He takes the hint and rocks into you fully, letting you feel every inch of him, before pulling out and slamming back into you. He sets a bruising pace, relentless as you write underneath him, barely able to think about anything other than him and how good he’s making you feel.   
He intertwines your fingers as he fucks into you, panting into your neck. “You’re mine,” he growls. “I’m not letting anyone else have you. Never again.” 
“Fuck, yes, I’m yours.”    
It only takes a few more thrusts and Yunho moaning your name for you to come undone, trembling underneath him. He follows shortly after, your walls clenching around him too much for him to take. You feel alarmingly empty when he pulls out of you to discard the condom in the trash, and the thought has you quickly getting up and disappearing into the bathroom. You pee and hop in the shower, needing time to sort out how you’re feeling.
You’ve never felt that way before, never said you belong to someone so easily. You’ve never missed someone the second they pulled away from you. It’s not hard for you to make sense of things—obviously, you return his feelings. But as to whether or not you’re ready for another relationship so soon after ending your last one, you’re not as sure.
You return to his bedroom wrapped only in a towel and grab one of his shirts, pulling it over your head. Yunho looks up at you from his phone and smiles, opening his arms in invitation. You go to him, letting him pull you close, and you can’t help but bury your face into his neck, breathing in the scent of him.
“Feeling okay?”
You may not be able to see him, but you can hear the worry in his tone.
“I feel great, Yu, I promise. That was amazing.” 
He kisses the top of your head. “Good, I’m glad. It was for me, too.” 
He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t press you for answers or ask you to tell him where you stand even though you know he was probably racked with anxiety the entire time you were in the bathroom. Instead, he shuts off the light and continues to hold you close as he shuts his eyes, content just from having you in his arms. As you fall asleep in his embrace, your last coherent thought is that you’re going to have a lot to figure out in the morning.
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