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jinkiezzsstuff · 3 months

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Met The Devil

lucifer x human!reader

based on folklore about the devil, cause i thought that would be cool teehee

Part [2]

Warnings: SMUT 18+, implied fem reader (clit use), based on devil folklore so possibly ooc lucifer, so sorry but lucifer our boy ain’t that caught up on lilith here, penetrative sex, didn’t proof read so lmk if you see any mistakes, no mention of hairtype/bodytype/skin colour, swearing,

Word count: 4K

Your shoes clacked against the concrete, water from puddles splashing out from underneath your feet. The rain poured down vigorously, and unforgivingly. Your hair ruined, your clothes soaked and your mood sour. It’s been a trying day starting off with a failed job interview and ending with bending over backwards for people who didn’t deserve it.

It wasn’t even like you couldn’t handle a problem, or a hurdle, but it seemed like every path you took led to a dead end. You were tired, broke, and felt drained, you would kill for just a break from the failure.

Your pace slowed long ago, not really wanting to return into a room full of loud family members with critical opinions. You dragged your feet through puddles of water, feeling the cold rain soak through. The storm raged on clouds continuing to pelt down fat droplets, you inhaled the smell of wet grass, damp concrete and mud as you strolled.

The amber street lights above you were dim, and your eyes danced around the street lazily, observing everything and nothing. Just a few feet away from you was a bus stop, with a shelter and a bench, figuring it’d be better to not be drenched completely, you decided you’d have a seat maybe the rain will dissipate.

You dragged your feet focusing down at them as you walked into the shelter. As you turned into it, you bumped into someone jolting you backwards slightly. Reflexively your head shot up from your feet to see a man’s back, he quickly turned to you. You observed his clothing his head held a rather out there looking white hat, shoulders holding up a long white chesterfield coat along with white boots to match his monochromatic look.

Meeting his eyes you admired the unique colour; they looked light brown, but they were such a concentrated colour it could’ve been mistaken for an amber or perhaps orange. He was very pale, and poking out of his hat extremely blonde hair you briefly had the thought of perhaps he just lacked in melanin; he was albino, and so you moved past it. Standing fairly short even with his boots, he seemed like a wealthy man, and perhaps a model too, there’s no way he couldn’t be with such a catching appearance. The man gave you a wide grin, showing off his sparkling teeth, perfect as you expected. “Hi!” The strange man shouted, a rich booming voice coming out of him. You didn’t know what voice you expected to hear from him, but the slightly unsure, sultry one definitely wasn’t it.

Stepping back from him lending him some personal space back, you smiled nervously. “Hi, i’m sorry i thought- well i didn’t see anyone in here, sorry.” The man ‘pfft’ at you, eyes closed momentarily, head tilted back. “It’s not a problem at all! Eh, i was just stopping by!” Waving at you he stepped futher in the bus shelter, opening his arm to welcome you in excitedly.

You watched him intently as you walked inside, you felt curious about him as he had an aura you couldn’t quite place. When inside you stood parallel to him, watching as his posture slowly decompressed like he was glad you were here. You briefly wondered what he meant by stopping by it didn’t seem like the appropriate term to use in this scenario, but you argued with yourself that he could’ve been flustered.

Gazing down at his arm a cane had appeared- one that wasn’t there before, you had to do double take, assuring yourself that you were seeing things correctly. As you did so, he leaned ever so slightly on it putting more trust in the cane then he probably should have. “An apple?” You questioned observing the handle that he grasped with gloved hands. His eyebrow rose with a confused expression gracing his gorgeously sculpted face waiting for you to elaborate. “Your cane, sir.” You smiled nodding toward it, feeling a strange sense of adoration him and for the far away look in his eyes, one you recognized. “Cane? Oh, OH! My cane, ha! Yes uh, apples. They’re, uh gods gift after all.”

Realization flooded his face, smirk reappearing as he leaned forward just a bit, as he did so you felt a sudden sense of familiarity that was almost sickening. You’ve never felt such a pull before to a person like you did in this moment. “Would you like an apple? It’s cold out, you must be tired after such a long tedious day.” Watching him as he dug into his pocket pulling out a decently sized apple- perfectly red as well.

Tilting your head to the side questioningly you ask; “How did you know my day was tedious?” The question came out gently, quiet, void of any accusation or fear. Instead you felt calm gazing from his captivating eyes to the apple, hand stallled just a bit away from yourself reaching toward. “It’s so evident on your face, you poor thing. Here go ahead sweetheart.” His voice that was once insecure, unsure and bouncing in pitch, was now relaxed, smooth and hypnotizing.

There was no malice or condescension in what he said, but rather an observation of what you failed to hide in your current state. Nodding with a short shrug, you reach further, the man meeting you half way to place the fruit in your palm. Your hand briefly touched his own gloved one, they were warm as ever, and you’d wish you could’ve gotten more of a feel.

Smiling at him you suddenly noticed his lids were covered in a lavender purple, perhaps you noticed because they were lidded at you now, unlike before when they were wide. His smile was lazy as he watched you bite into his fruit. It was probably one of the more fresher apples you’d ever bitten into, and as you swallowed the first bite your stomach growled, literally demanding more.

The strange man in white chuckled at the sound of your stomach, and before you could let embarrassment consume you he spoke. “See! So glad I found you, wouldn’t want you starving now would we?” It seemed he had gone back to his boisterous mood as he watched you crunch happily down.

“Thank you so much sir, this is such a good apple, really, did you grow this in your garden?” You asked him, he came closer standing beside you, the two of you now facing the road, looking out at the rain. “Mm, not my garden…” The man muttered under his breath, you quirked a brow humming at him barely hearing what he said. His eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “Heh! Oh nothing sweets! Don’t worry, i was just, uh, remembering some stuff. From. Like, the past.”

It was as if he’d lost his cool for a moment, stumbling over everything that came out of his mouth, his gaze fixed ahead at nothing. You admired the side of his face as you chewed the last bit of apple, his head slowly turned to you, eyes catching your own.

“You’re eyes are ethereal.” You breathe eyes squinted in focus as you drank him up. You didn’t fully mean to say what you said, it was something just burst out of you without restraint because you felt so strongly about the beauty they held.

Stuttering, he blushed finding it hard to gather the words under the heated look you were giving him. “Thank you, YN.” The man finally said easy going smile once again present on his face. Before you could say anything in return- including questioning how the hell he knew your name, he again reached in his pocket this time pulling out a single playing card the king of hearts. Furrowing your brows you accepted the card but didn’t understand why he gave it to you.

“Love a good game of cards, always have! I think we’ll see each other some day soon!” The man exclaimed smiling brightly at you, behind you, you could make out the sound of a bus coming up to your stop. You smiled and thankedthe man regardless of the oddities, he returned the gesture smiling toothily at you. He rested himself against his cane again watching you intently as you glanced behind you. The bus lights lit up your figure, and you supposed you’d get on for the rest of the ride home. Turning with a smile to say your farewells to the mystery man, your stomach dropped. The man had vanished, and you’d only looked away a second. Stepping out into the rain, you peered up and down the long streets, unable to see his white coat or hat in either direction.

Standing next to the curb the bus whined to a stop, the compressed air blowing out warmly at your legs. When the bus driver opened his doors, you stepped on tapping your finger against the safety glass. The conductor looked at you exhausted by the night and the people he handled.

“Sorry if this is strange, but did you see anyone in the bus shelter with me?” The diver looked at you and it was obvious to him he couldn’t care less, but you stayed put waiting the vocal confirmation. “No ma’am, but if i’m being honest i wasn’t paying attention.”

You nodded quickly eyes casted down, thanking him you put your toll in and walked your way down the isle. When in your seat, you pulled out the card once more to inspect it in the light. Your eyebrows lifted looking down at the card, written on the back where there was nothing before, now had beautiful calligraphic writing with an address on it.

Typing the address into your phone, it directed you to what looked to be a website where people posted looking for house sitters. Turning your mouth in a disgusted manor, you silently questioned why the hell this man would give you such a thing. Scrolling through the different enlistings, you boredly read through descriptions and pay killing time until your stop.

Just a few stops away from home, your thumb stopped on a house, it was a pretty decent home appeared to be some sort of log cabin. The pay they were willing to give was generous, and it was only for three days, oddly enough. Clicking on it, you read through the description, they asked not to bring pets, eat their food, or sleep in their bedrooms asking to bring something to sleep on.

It was a two hour commute by drive, but seeing as you didn’t drive, it was a four hour commute with the train. You sent the owner a quick message telling them that you needed the pay and you were willing to comply to all the rules no issues. After sending your message, you stood mirroring the robotic voice as it called the name of your stop.

—

“Hi welcome!” Marie greeted you with a handshake, smiling at her you shook back. Walking into the cabin alongside Marie she explained that she needed to pick her husband up from a business trip from the middle east, and her house was too high maintenance for her to leave behind. “Occasionally, the pipes will freeze if the temperature drops, you the heat will need to controlled carefully. There’s a garden outback i am very proud of, i’d really appreciate you checking on it daily, just to make sure no pesky animals intrude.”

Walking through the house, you notice different things hanging, but no family pictures. The house was filled with mahogany and oak woods, which were really gorgeous, the house was dark and lit by yellow lighting from different chandeliers and vintage looking collectors lamps.

“Oh! Also if you need we have a prayer room! Don’t touch anything in there as they’re very expensive. Besides that, you’re good. Alright i gotta run, this willl be a very tedious trip. Call me if you have any problems.” Nodded as she spoke, you walked along side her towards the front door. You smiled at her assuring that all would be well, and if there was any problems you wouldn’t hesitate to call.

—

Another rain storm moved into the area thunder shaking the cabin. You had a cot set up in the living room per Marie’s request, and your food was put away in the fridge. You had gotten into shorts and a t-shirt now that you didn’t have to worry about being presentable and settled in the cot with your phone and laptop.

You’d been in the house for ten hours now, and you weren’t able to relax, paranoia filled your mind as you felt off about being in a strangers home. The urge and need for money fueled you in the beginning, but now alone in the middle of the woods, in a cabin that isn’t your own with a thunderstorm overhead, yeah you were filled with anxiety.

Just as you felt a bit of tension release from your shoulders, three knocks sounded from the door making you jumped from the disruption of silence. Standing cautiously you walked to the fire place grabbing one of the pokes that sat off to the side, and went to the door. Peeping through the hole you were surprised to be greated by the man from the bus stop. He held the rim of his hat down over his his face that held a scowl of discomfort, slumped over and soaked.

Opening the door you stood the fire poke off to the side against the wall. Despite your apprehension and confusion, something in you felt compelled to open the doo. “What the hell?” You exclaim, watching him perk up at the sound of your voice, eyes naturally finding your own. “Oh you! Y’know i had a feeling you’d be here, uhh, mind helping me out. It’s freezing!”

Grabbing his bicep you tugged him in, him letting out waohs as he stumbled in letting you do as you pleased. Slamming the door behind you, you grabbed his shoulders gently looking into his eyes. “What the fuck are you doing all the way out here? God, you’re soaked.” You saying eyeing him, he was wearing the white outfit he had on nearly two months ago.

Walking to your suitcase you pulled out a towel, t-shirt and joggers for the man. Turning you walked back to the entry to see him already half naked, gasping you spun on your heel. “What the hell dude! Put this on!” You screamed tossing all the items behind your back.

The man laughed, it sounded charming and he seemed delighted at your shock. “Don’t worrrryyy, its no biggie. Look as long as you please.” Scoffing you turned seeing him with the joggers on, hat tossed to the side drying his hair. “You look very good tonight,“ The man trailed eyeing you up and down.

You felt hot at such a statement making you feel like a horn dog. You crossed your arms and gave him a grin. “Can I help you by the way, maybe call you a car? I’m uh, house sitting.” You explain walking up to him, he shook his head smiling coyly at you. “No no, thats, fine.” You went to question further but he had other ideas and brushed past you wandering into the house.

“I don’t even know your name!” You say speedily following him as he observed everything in the cabin he passed. He glanced back at you briefly before muttering; “Lucifer,” Quickly before you could get a word in edge wise he turned aburptly stopping, you bumping into him lightly. “And I only ask that you spare me a few hours, maybe a meal?”

So there you two sat, you had ate with the man, and now sat listening to the stories of a man who swore up and down his name was Lucifer. He explained his predicament while you ate, saying that he just took a wrong turn and drove into a ditch.

You laughed along he told you interesting and funny stories of his life and the people around him, telling you about his crafting hobby. Which captivated you the most, honestly you were mesmerized by the man, and he seemed to feel the same about you.

His eyes lidded and relaxed, his chin rested on his hand, leaning forward completely encapsulated by your presence. You never had a man so focused on you, he hung on every word, and you felt that framillar tinge once again, pulling you into him.

The magnet kept pulling you in, and you were ever so hungry for the man in front of you. “Yeah, my daughter uh, she’s like me with the ambition. I’m just afraid she’s gonna end up like me.” Lucifer said shrugging while looking off to the side. You wont deny you felt the slightest bit upset at the statement, daughter implies mother. “Even if she does fail the only thing can do is be there for her through the trip. It’s harder to fail alone, i think.”

Nodding in contemplation the blondes eyes came back to you, his hands came the the middle of the table causing your gaze to drop. His hands twisted, flicked and your focus was now on a gold circle spinning on the table. His wedding band.

“She’s been alone a long time, my wife, she left seven years ago, we’d been divorced since Charlie was a toddler, heh, kept hoping she’d return. I left Charlie alone too, kinda thought it was for the best. Not anymore. We work together.” He explained smiling at the mention of his daughter. Slapping his hand atop the ring ceasing its momentum he looked at you watching as you placed your hand ontop of his, gently caressing him as you did so.

The two of you stared at each other silently, for how long you weren’t sure. It wasn’t until he pulled himself to his feet sluggishly that the staring spell broke. The confidence returned to him, as did his mischievous smirk. You were under the assumption be was ready to go so you stood with him.

Just as you were about to speak, thanking him for the unique experience he granted you, he grabbed you by the arms and tugged you into him. You fell forward hands flying to his chest, meanwhile his head tilted and softly his lips met yours. You didn’t have time to question a thing before your lips danced in tandem with his. Perhaps you should’ve been less willing than you were but how could you not be? It was like a gift from god, this man.

You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him to your chest, his hand moved from your arm to your hips grinding himself into you needily. You whimpered at the contact feeling how excited he already was, when you whimpered he took the chance to sneak his tongue into your mouth. As your own tongue slid past his you stuttered feeling how long he could reach, and moaned at the way he tried to swallow you whole so nastily.

Pulling back slightly, Lucifer paused as you felt the fork of his tongue. Shocked you pulled back fully looking at his lustful expression, it was almost as if his eyes were a darker shade.

“What’s wrong?” He asked hands slowly travelling from your hips up to the hem of your shirt, toying with it. “Your tongue?” At your inquisitive tone, he stuck his tongue out. “Thish?” He spoke through is tongue that stuck out to your, normal sized and unforked.

Smirking at him you shook your head gently you must’ve been nervous. Pulling him toward your make shift bed you two crashed down on it haphazardly, he leaned back on his elbows watching as you crawled on top of him meeting his lips eagerly. His hair was slightly disheveled, his breathing jagged under you.

You slid yourself up and down, gliding yourself purposely right on his hard on. Pulling away from the sloppy make out session you two were in, Lucifer looked at you with glassy eyes. “Let’s make deal,” He breathed panting to catch some of the breath you stole straight from him.

“What?” You whispered inches from his lips. “Let me have you, all of you and when the time comes you’ll be a queen, you’re just a diamond in the rough.” There was almost a saddness you could detect, maybe something you could describe as mournfully lonesome. You felt the tug; the pull to him you couldn’t deny, so you took his hand away from your hip, and shook it. “Deal.” You say mocking something that would be business offical.

With a sly grin, he pushed himself up to you, your lips crashing into his instantaneously. You bit his lip gently as he grinded himself into you enjoying how unashamed he was of showing his desire. You met his grinding with your own, dragging your hands down his warm chest. Lucifers breath stuttered at your touch, his nails sinking into your flesh with anticipation.

You stopped at the band of the joggers pulling away from the kiss. As you did Lucifers eyes were wide, pupils blown and he robotically lifted himself by his hips, awkwardly shuffling his joggers down. You lifted yourself so he could get them the rest of the way down before tossing your shirt to the side.

Grinding down on his uncovered cock you moaned head thrown back, he was all consuming and the air felt so hot after the deal. It was desperation that was evident on both your faces, Lucifer hypnotized by you as you greedily grinded against him. Lucifer whimpered laying back down flat on the cot trying to stop himself from violently bucking up.

“Tell me what you want Lucifer,” You purred lifting your hips from his boner rotating your hips round and round while just barely touching his dick beneath you. “Fuck please, get on me.” Lucifer gritted out teeth clenched, eyes closed sparkling at how tight he had them sealed.

Manurvering yourself you pulled down your shorts and urged him to sit up. Lazily he followed your pull sitting up straight toward you. You liked this position way more, face to face as your sunk yourself down on his cock. His legs jerked, spreading out falling off each side of the caught causing you to bottom out, slipping right down to his balls.

“Oh shit you’re an angel, fuck, you feel so good, oh,” Lucifer whimpered voice wavering, although he smiled through the pleasure. Unwillingly he fucked up into you, your body unmoving jerked up with his hips, you were too busy getting used to him girth and size not to mention his all consuming presence. He was so hot, smug, and it made you feel hornier than you already are.

Sliding your hips forward you whimper and moaned. Face in your neck he breathed you in, whimpering as he continued to fuck up into every now and again, still trying to hold back for you. You wrapped your legs around his back clenching on unable to speak as Lucifer had your brain wiped of all thought.

Lucifer bit down holding back a groan, effectively drawing blood from the wound, licking it right up after. Suddenly like a madman, he gripped you like a life line, gently but swiftly flipping you over onto your back. He looked down at you with red eyes stunning you into silence. “Lucifer?” You whispered breathlessly as he smiled down at your form, his tongue darting, out forked once again, and dragged his devilish tongue against his no longer normal teeth.

Without responding he sunk himself into you, your legs on their own accord flew up around Lucifer as he slowly plunged himself into you. You cried out in pleasure as he picked up the pace slamming his hips into you, skin slapping filled the room as well as Lucifers gravel groans and growls.

Your eyes were closed as you reached up to him, your body jerked at his thrusts the cot creaking. You pulled him toward you, he made no effort to pull away from your tugging. His lips met yours pulling you into a hot kiss, you met him with need, teeth clashing and tongues twisting. You being to fucked out in bliss to realize the razor sharp teeth that nicked your lips and tongue, or the snake like tongue that explored your mouth.

You moaned at the sensations you felt all around you, your heightened senses picking up the cold snake like skin that whipped by your calf. Opening your eyes you clenched coming face to face with Lucifer, the devil, the literal devil.

Long red horns stuck out from his pale skin, red eyes lidded and glowing down at you, sharp teeth evident by his smirked. His pace never slowed as he watched you stare at him, and his pride swelled at the fleeing of you clenching him tightly, legs simultaneously pulling him in closer.

“Like what you see angel?” You mewled at his words grabbing his shoulders as he looked down at you eyes full of desire and pride. “Yes,” You gasped as he hit a pretty little spot inside you that made you sing to him.

“Please Lucifer!” A rumble sounded in his chest a noise you couldn’t describe. Attempting to stabilize your jerking body, your hands moved to grip his back but paused at the feeling of feathers. Lazily your mouth fell open, body jerking as your head tilted to the side getting a better look at the red and white wings that cascaded far across the room.

“O-oh, my god, fuuuck.” You moaned trying to make sense of the display in front of you but Lucifer pressed his finger down on your clit making you loose control of your mind once more, bucking up to him, begging him.

You pleaded to Lucifer like a chant to him, looking into his red glowing eyes. His smile was gone his eyes lidded eyebrows pinched as he fought off the urge to cum just a little longer.

With a shout your body shook tensing, toes curling, Lucifer muttered your name over and over worshipping your name as you did to him. His hips halted deep within you and he bit down on your neck leaving several different bite marks.

Pulling away he stared down at your sweaty body his demonic form shrinking away, his eyes going yellow with his natural red irises. You stared shocked at him, but he only coyly smiled at you. “How was your date with the devil?” He smiled brushing his hand down your cheek.

“You’re really the devil?” You asked in disbelief and astonishment. “Well y’know,” He coughed looking away, pulling away from you effectively pulling out of you. “Yeah that’s what they call me.” Another charming smile graced his face.

Your lurched upward eyes wide. “I made a deal with the devil?!” You exclaimed not feeling the way you expected if you were to meet the devil. Y’know fear.

“Yep, and, you promised yourself to me,” Popping his ‘p’ as well as accentuating the ‘and’, he tossed the ring at you. Swiftly you caught it, and by the time you looked down at it, and then back up to him, he was redressed in his suit, coat and hat.

“Speaking of which, I’ve got a kingdom to run.” Thunder rumbled shaking the cabin making the lights flicker out ominously, and in that brief moment, the devil himself, disappeared. Leaving you alone, with his ring, naked in the cabin.

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beiasluv · 9 months

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forbidden fruit | Charles Leclerc

a/n: new to the f1 communityy 😬 apologies for any term or idea i got wrong. female!reader. no proofread! enjoyy 🤍

summary: the princess of mercedes and the prince of ferrari, what could possibly go wrong?

“y/n! y/n! she’s in her last turn! leclerc’s trailing behind! can he do an over take?”

splashing champagnes and listening to the dutch national anthem were never your favorite of winning a podium, but who cares?

you were on P3 and charles leclerc was not.

perhaps retelling the story of your rivalry with the monégasque driver would take a whole frustrating, aggravating, and lengthy year for us to get through; and perhaps it was for the best to leave it where it is, never to be touched, but to reminisce with a needle of cringeness poking through your heart.

although an honorable mention to verstappen, for taking the lead role of leclerc’s personal favorite rival.

it was all an inchident, of course.

smirking back to the driver in a flashing, scuderia ferrari, red fire suit, you could only feel your ego bubbling to the top of your throat. charles leclerc was staring. and staring hard. what a shame you couldn’t even take out your phone and take a snippet of his raging glance. what a fun sight for the whole news headlines to see.

‘charles leclerc, envy and jealousy…’

of course, he couldn’t lash it out. how could he? would the handsome, young, and talented ferrari driver want to ruin his reputation in the media? obviously, not.

of course, you knew it all too well. every day you wake up with the tip of a knife, aiming at your throat, ready to nick you anytime you take a wrong step on the luxurious path of an f1 driver. being the only female driver on the grid makes your life a thousand times more challenging.

but who were you to be a nitpick?

the media loves drama. we all do. perhaps it was a little bit more entertaining to see what you are wearing when the races had gone wrong. what hairstyle were you wearing for the big race? or, maybe, just which driver you were dating on the grid this season?

never once you could escape the dating questions or all the bullshit misogynistic attitudes from the journalists, press, media, and, well, …you name it.

perhaps you have to give it to leclerc for never going easy on you just because you are of a different gender.

“congratulations on P3, y/n,” max turned towards you and gave you a pat on the shoulder; simultaneously, bringing you back to reality.

“t- thanks.”

—

“you win this one, l/n.”

he took off his helmet, and clutched it loosely to his side. the cheeky smirk plastered on his face. the eyes searched for the depth of yours.

only you knew how much pain it was for him to force his lips to create such a soft and fake smile for the thousand camera lenses, waiting to catch the two rivals lacking. bumping into leclerc after the race, fresh and full of adrenaline, alone in the hallway of the track was never an enjoyable experience to endure.

“good race, leclerc,” you muttered out as many PR and drivers walked past you two.

“same to you.”

what a shame your PR manager ushered you out for the media room before you two could give a shot of throwing hands - elegantly, of course.

—

“good work on the qualifying round, l/n. return to the garage. over.”

“copy that,” you tapped your headset, notifying the engineer of the prestigious mercedes team.

driving for mercedes in f1 could count as your biggest dream since the karting days. and the race won against ferrari was a - personal - success.

slowing your baby down, and pressing the brake mechanism of the car, you came to a halt as the friction overpowered the tires. one or two seconds later, you could hear the mercedes team rushing and scurrying over to your parked position to collect you back to the mothership.

“take her back, guys!”

the screaming of your fans nearby erupted as you ascended out from the cramped space of your f1 seat. taking your helmet off, and waving to them; you gracefully jumped down from the car and headed towards the mercedes headquarters.

a long walk, but who are you to make a fuss?

an f1 driver should have no problem walking a couple of miles. oh but how annoyingly a group of fans quickly crowded over you and blocked your ways…red flags, horses, and charles leclerc faces. clearly, you knew whose fans they were.

fussing, grabbing, and pulling, you were harassed, unfortunately. autographs, hats, pictures, postcards, and questionable stuff were pushed into your face.

“y/n! please! sign my shirt!” “get the hell away from charles!”

“charles deserved p3 today!” “l/n!! l/n! say hi to my dad! he loves you!”

trying to fulfill all of their requirements, you realized you had found yourself in the sea of scuderia ferrari fans. it is an unspoken fact that you were the rival of charles leclerc; you could say some fans were more enthralled by that fact than others.

“y/n! what do you think about charles? are you guys dating?”

sometimes you hate technology. the cameras pointing at you reminded me of the knife you carry mentally with you every day. it could gain you thousands of thousands of likes in a few tiktoks or perhaps get ready to say goodbye to your f1 position.

“…we’re not talking. in any complicate way,” smiling through the pain you signed the cap that was shoved into your face. gosh, mercedes. where was your security?

your patience could only last so much until one fan decided it was worth it to grab your hand and pull you down for an instagram-worthy photo. and he possibly thought the best way to execute it was to, firstly, seize your waist. how thoughtful of him.

“fuc- please don’t-”

“y/n! i love you!”

man-child was not having it. sweaty and clammy hands could send chills down your spine if you didn’t know.

“please-”

smile through the pain. smile through the pain. it was all part of the job, at the end of the day. the fans still won and you were just a doll for f1. breathe in, breathe out.

he pulled his iphone 7 out of his pocket, painfully slow; slower than the ferrari’s pitstops. his side was squished to yours. the cologne, the smell, the sensory, everything-

“hey, hands off.”

you could say it was the first time you were glad to see charles leclerc from your entire life; wearing his race suit sluttily around his waist. leclerc - being leclerc - stunned his fans, leaving a big hole in the crowd around you.

he was reaching out for your waist; surprisingly, in a way you were pleased, and pulled you out of the red crowd. and just like magic, the security came rushing in and ushered the mob of fans away from the scene.

wearing that stunned face of yours, you regained consciousness and your rival emotions. clearing your already cleared throat, charles took it as a signal to let go of your waist. how suddenly you realized it was all happening over the armor of your fire suit.

thank god.

“..thanks”

“no need to thank me,” the competitive tone made its way through his annoying lips again. scoffing, he looked at you with his hand clutching his helmet by his side, “i don’t understand why they need to adore you this much.”

how rude.

“for the record, they are your fans, leclerc,” you scoffed offendedly, and your hand found its natural place on your chest; clutching for dramatic effect.

“what did i do to deserve such loyal fans, l/n…” not even looking at you he smirked under his nose. “they shouldn’t be acting this way, no?”

he looked over at you, seeing you in your distressed state and a chuckle left his lips. the cameras settled on the stands far away in the distance and stared at you two, they were definitely on.

shit.

this is going to end up in the headlines.

—

“check out your new title…” your manager cleared his throat as you nervously waited.

“you can’t just leave me hanging here!”

placing your phone in your lap your hands returned to the comfort of the steering wheel. twisting and turning, you maneuvered your mercedes inside the driver's garage.

“calm the fuck down! i’m pulling out the source for accuracy,” you swore you could see your manager rolling his eyes. “wait for it…‘charles to the rescue. mercedes and ferrari, love or rivalry?’”

“shut up.”

“i can send you the links.”

“please don’t,” you sighed as you looked over your shoulder to slide into the parking lot like a distinguished f1 driver. “…the devil works hard, but the media works harder, or what?”

“we could use a little PR for mercedes, y’know?” the crackled chuckle left your phone.

please.

“the signal is shit in the parking lot, i’ll see you at the paddock. bye.”

“alright, be quick.”

gathering your bag and phone, you checked your face one last time in the rearview mirror and opened the car door. unfortunately, the infamous ferrari entered the parking lot with its signature roars, as you stepped out of your car.

the devil had worked hard once again. walking to your trunk, you kicked it open and snatched some of your essential stuff for the race. and who would’ve thought charles leclerc could park his car in under 20 seconds?

not to mention, it wasn’t straight. (oops)

getting out of his car, he checked his hair and fixed his shirt. obviously, aware of the paparazzi lurking around the track’s garage for the big day, and hoping to sell a couple of pics for something a little more than a couple of bucks. perhaps an even better price for them if they caught you and your rival having a ‘friendly’ chat.

don’t get close to him. don’t get close to him.

“what a coincidence,” leclerc approached your mercedes as he locked his ferrari with its infamous beeping.

“how so?”

smirking back at him, you slammed your trunk closed and shut off; locking your car in the same manner. catching the glimpse of his eyes you made it your personal goal to escape him as fast as you could possibly can.

flicking your head away and taking off, the path inside the track was as empty as you hoped it could be.

“slow down, i just wanna talk.”

“leclerc.”

“you walk too fast,” you swore if you looked back and he is grinning. “you trying to escape from me?”

fuck.

“got a problem with that, leclerc?”

his dark green eyes met yours after you decided the risk was below the ‘manageable’ level to turn around.

“no,” he grinned at you. how you wish you could smack it off of his face. “i jus’ want some company while walking to the track, no?”

company, my ass.

clearing his throat, he looked at you, “you’re a pretty good rival though.”

gaining a nod and a smirk from you leclerc was cut short of his run time as his PR manager came to collect him to the ferrari garage. how sad. his messy hair, the confidential wave, and two eyes met yours one last time before you decided to head to the mothership of your mercedes headquarters.

big trouble, y/n. big trouble.

—

“y/n, we neeed to talk.”

the paddock was usually quiet upstairs, all the mechanics and engineers spent their time in garage down below. only toto, george, lewis, your manager, and their managers, and - obviously - you would spend time up here. also. is every private manager in the world annoyingly scary and friendly at the same time or what?

sitting down next to you on the black sofa of the mercedes headquarters by the pitch, you were face-to-face with your lovely manager.

clearing your nonexistent anxiety, “…yes?”

“look…the media is starting to notice your relationship with charles…”

“and..?”

“and,” he crossed his arms, “we need to work on keeping this situation private…it could affect your reputation. maybe after the soft launch phase is over, you can publicize it…if you want to, obviously.”

the fuck?

“…what are your thoughts?”

he looked into your face, not a single thought behind it. somehow the racetrack outside the notoriously big, shiny window of the mercedes paddock suddenly gained your attention, and he restored to snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“what-? oh right- for fuck’s sake! we’re not in a relationship!”

“and what about those paparazzis’ pictures? I thought we agreed on sharing every ‘public’ detail about your life with me?”

“first of all, privacy. second of all. you believe that?! anthony! you’re my manager, i would’ve told you if i was dating a ferrari driver!” grabbing a quick breath,

“do you think i want to date the reddest of all flags on the grid?!”

“yeah? but that’s not the impression the media got,” he said. “even max! max verstappen thought-”

“who cares what max thinks!” you thrown your head back on the sofa.

“PR could be good, but we don’t know if it’s going to blacklash-”

george russell. he walked up to you two arguing on the black sofa and smirked at you; clearly, he heard your talks about ‘the reddest of all flags on the grid.’

“shut your mouth, russell,” sighing sarcastically as you could and you turned to your manager, who was having the time of his life.

“I’m not saying anything,” he raised his hands defensively, grinning the shit out of the corners of his mouth.

“I’m a driver, not a play doll you could match-make for the team’s reputation. hell. doesn’t charles have a girlfriend?”

anthony pulled out his phone and scrolled through ‘something,’ “yes…charles…has a girlfriend, PR relationship?”

“what do you mean?”

putting his phone away, “doesn’t matter. but what the media care about is to get a story out of nothing.”

“…and?”

“you have a reputation of being a private figure, and you're an expert in keeping it that way. we just need to do that until the end of the season.”

george chuckled sarcastically, "she seems angry at us, guys.”

“i am. and i’m not dating anyone for mercedes. done,” you stood up from the sofa and beelined towards the door. “also. i’m telling toto.”

and someone finally heard you this time. the whole room’s atmosphere seemed to tense up as someone entered the door.

toto wolff.

“is there a problem, y/n?” toto asked as george smirked at the unfolding situation.

you swung your head towards the origin of the sound and cleared your throat, “your employee, mr. wolff, is trying to matchmake me with a ferrari driver.”

toto chuckled.

toto chuckled?

“so there is something between you and charles?” he raised his eyebrow at you. expectedly, george was holding his laughter in for his dear life.

“why does everyone thinks that we’re dating?! even toto?!”

“so you’re not dating leclerc?”

“no!”

congratulations. you have successfully crashed onto the sofa once again, groaning your pain out.

“she’s lying,” george chimed in.

“I. am. not.”

how surprising that george’s back kissed the sofa as you tackled him jokingly down. a moment of silence for toto to watch many of his best drivers tackle each other like it’s a normal day in kindergarten.

“are you sure you are not dating, leclerc?”

last straw. you clutched your bag and left george dysfunctional on the couch. walking past the room, you glanced back one last time and said with the best sarcasm, “i’m not. and I’m not dating him for mercedes. done! I’m a driver, not a doll!”

slamming the door shut, you headed for your private driver’s room.

"she's angry at us…” george chuckles nervously; obviously, with a hint of joy.

“no shit sherlock”

—

edit: part 2

part 2?? reblog, like, whatever the heck you want would be appreciated 😘

today’s a great day to take care of yourself, lots of luv 🤍

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gunnerfc · 1 month

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Change of Plans | Lia Wälti x Arsenal!Reader (18+) [Friday]

Summary: A teammate in need of a pick-me-up forces you to abandon the hookup date you had planned but leads to something more with a different teammate

Warnings: r is packing, bottom lia, top reader, strap use (lia receiving), oral (lia receiving) fingering (lia receiving), overstimulation, r calling lia ‘princess’

WC: 2.2k

Night After Night masterlist

You slipped your shoes on in a slight hurry before heading out the door to your car. You pulled your phone from your pocket to tell the woman you were meeting that you were leaving your place and would be there soon. You had a bit of a reputation for sleeping around, though it didn’t seem to bother you.

You slipped your phone back into the pocket of your sweatpants, you hadn’t made too much of an effort knowing your clothes would be on the floor most of the night. Just as you got comfortable in the driver’s seat, your phone dinged three times. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as to why your ‘date’ would be triple-texting you.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket once more and instead of your date’s number greeting you, it was a smaller group chat with a few of your teammates. You huffed slightly when you read Leah’s text asking for a movie night to help cheer her up. You wanted to be there for your friend but had someone waiting for you. You hesitated to respond because you knew the replies you would get from your teammates if you told no and why.

Before you could answer, everyone else had agreed and told Leah they would be there shortly. You cursed softly to yourself as you texted the woman that something come up last minute and you would have to reschedule. You texted the group chat you were on your way before tossing your phone into the passenger seat. You readjust yourself in the seat, forcing you to remember the strap on beneath your sweatpants.

You contemplated going back inside to change but you figured it wouldn’t be too noticeable. With a small sigh, you put the car in drive and headed the short distance to Leah’s place, ready to offer a comforting shoulder despite how needy you were feeling. You would just have to get through the movies before you could come home and take care of yourself.

You were the first to arrive at Leah's since you were already in the car when she texted. You waited outside her door for her to answer for a moment before the door swung open and an upset-looking Leah appeared. Seeing the blonde visibly sad instantly made you regret feeling upset at her initial text. You didn’t say anything as she let you inside and you pulled her into a small hug once the door closed.

You two weren’t alone long before Lia, Steph, Beth, and Viv arrived. The only person missing was Jen but due to her recent move to America, she’d have to miss out on movie night. After quick hugs, everyone made themselves comfortable with snacks in Leah’s living room. Lia was the last to take a seat and due to the lack of space, the midfielder was seated right next to you with little space between you.

“Is this alright, y/n/n,” Lia whispered when the movie started, her thigh resting very close to yours.

You nodded your head with a small smile as you tried to focus on the screen in front of you. With your still present desire and Lia being so close to you, your thoughts were elsewhere. You and Lia had a very back-and-forth relationship after her breakup with Caitlin. Neither of you wanted to make the first move but that didn’t stop your thoughts from racing every time she was near you.

Throughout the movie, you kept rearranging yourself and each time you moved, the toy between your legs bumped your clit. You lost focus on the movie entirely, your sole focus was controlling yourself. You were thankful when the movie was paused to get more snacks, taking the opportunity to go to the bathroom.

You groaned softly as you leaned against the sink, your breath heavy as you shook your head to rid your thoughts of your teammate. You turned the sink on and threw some water on your face, hoping it would help calm you down. You took a deep breath before opening the door, stopping in your tracks when you were face to face with Lia.

“Sorry, didn’t know you were out here,” your voice wavering slightly as you avoided her eyes.

“Are you okay,” the concern lacing her voice was evident as she stuck a hand out to hold your bicep.

You swallowed lightly at the feeling of her hands on your body and quicking nodded your head. You moved out of her way to let her into the bathroom so you could head back into the living room. Everyone waited while she was in the bathroom, small talk about the upcoming game filled the room.

When Lia returned, she took her seat next to you but this time her thigh was pressed tightly against yours. Your eyes dropped to her thigh as Beth hit play, though you didn’t care. Lia turned her head slightly when she felt you staring at her, sending you a small smile as she patted your thigh.

The midfielder’s hand froze when she felt the strap on resting beneath your pants. You locked eyes with her as both of your breathing picked up. Your eyes dropped slightly to her lips and you licked your at the thought of kissing her. A loud bang from the TV forced your attention off Lia, though your thoughts were still racing when she had yet to move her hand.

The movie seemed to drag on for ages before the end credits started rolling and you mentally cheered at the thought of going home. You stood from the couch, making a lame excuse for not staying for more than one movie, and quickly hugged your teammates. When your arms wrapped around Lia, your breath hitched when she placed a small kiss on the side of your neck.

You yelled one last goodnight before stepping out the door, the cold London air hitting your face. You stood there for a moment before slowly starting to your car and before you could open your car door, Leah’s front door opened again. You watched Lia make her way toward you, a smile on her face as she did so.

“You’re not staying,” you questioned with a raised eyebrow, your eyes falling to her lips once more when she was close to you.

“Figured you needed the company,” Lia teased as she stepped close to you, your faces inches from each other.

Lia leaned in first, her lips brushing yours lightly before you wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her as close as possible. Your lips easily dominated hers, Lia moaning into the kiss as she held your arm tightly. “My place,” you asked when you broke the kiss, though you moved to place light kisses along her jaw.

“I’ll um.. I’ll meet you there,” she nodded, gulping as you moved down her neck, sucking lightly.

You pulled back with a small nod, letting go of her waist and watching as she headed to her car. You quickly hopped in your car, not wanting to wait another second. You made it back to your place in record time and Lia wasn’t far behind you. You offered her a hand once she was out of her car and next to you, pulling her to your door.

You quickly unlocked your door and pushed it open, pulling Lia through the threshold with you. You closed the door with your foot, dropping your keys by the table by your door and kicking your shoes off. Lia followed your actions and as soon as her shoes were off, her back was pressed against your door. Her hand tangled in your hair as your lips met hers once more, your hands gripping her waist tightly.

You stayed in your spot for a moment as your lips fought each other, hands running over Lia’s body and pulling at her clothes. With your lips still locked, you guided her toward your bedroom, your hands pulling her shirt from her body as you moved. By the time you made it to your bedroom, both of you were without your shirts.

You pulled your lips away from Lia’s to remove her bra, throwing it to the floor aimlessly. Your eyes drop to her bare chest, leaning down to place a light kiss in between her breasts. Your hands dropped to the drawstring of the shorts she was wearing, pulling them loose and pushing them and her underwear down her legs. Your eyes scanned her bare body, licking your lips as you took in every inch of her body.

You moved her toward your bed letting her lay down as you stripped your remaining clothes. Lia’s eyes fell to the strap between your legs, her thighs clenching as she felt herself grow wetter. You ran a hand from her calf to her thighs, pushing her legs open for you to lay between them. You placed kisses along her pelvic bone and the inside one of her thighs, earning a quiet moan from Lia.

You placed small kisses near her clit before kissing the sensitive bud softly. Lia’s thighs tried to close around you but you pushed one of her legs out to spread her out even more. A small whine of your name followed by ‘fuck’’ fell from her lips as her hips bucked up for more.

You could feel yourself growing wetter as you licked through her dripping folds, your nose hitting her clit as you licked up. You hook your hands around her thighs as you push closer to her, Lia’s back arching off the mattress as her eyes fall shut. Lia could feel herself close to coming, her hands tangling in your hair as she bucked her hips to meet the thrust of your tongue.

With a loud moan, Lia’s back arched off the bed as she let go, coming all over your mouth. You kept your movements going, bringing her close to a second orgasm before pulling away before she could cum again. You kissed up her body before your lips met hers, Lia moaning at the taste of herself on your lips. While your lips moved against each other, you moved a hand to grab the toy between your legs, lining it up with Lia’s cunt.

Lia pulled away from the kiss as her head fell back against your pillows when you pushed the strap on into her. You moved your arms to rest on either side of her head as she wrapped a leg around your waist. You moved your lips to her neck, sucking harshly to leave hickies along her skin. The midfielder arched her back once more, her chest hitting yours as you roughly fucked her.

Lia moved her hands to your back, her nails leaving indents from how tightly she was holding onto you. She was already close to a second orgasm so it didn’t take long for her to cum again. Your name fell from her lips in a broken chant mixed with her begging you to not stop.

“You’re taking me so well, princess,” you mumbled against her skin after a rough thrust. Lia whined at the praise, her eyes screwing shut as she let go once more.

You didn’t slow your hips as you fucked her, helping through her high while also bringing her closer to a third. You propped your hands next to her head as you snapped your hips, the base of the strap on offering you some relief as you fucked her. Your hips stuttered as you felt yourself close to the edge but you kept fucking her, wanting to make her cum as many times as you could.

“I’m gonna cum,” she whined as you thrust into her, her nails digging into your skin as she held you close.

“Cum for me princess,” you grunted, your own orgasm hitting you as you drilled into her.

Lia came for the third time, her loud moans echoing off your bedroom walls. You panted above her as you calmed down from your orgasm, swallowing lightly as you caught your breath. You pulled the strap on out of her, a small whimper falling from her lips at the loss of contact.

You traced a hand down her torso, your fingers running through her soaked folds. “One more, princess,” you smirked, your fingers easily pushing into her. Lia whined softly, tears pricking her eyes from the immense amount of pleasure she was receiving.

You pumped your fingers into her quickly, easily making her cum for the fourth time that evening. You pulled your fingers out of her, bringing them to your mouth to suck them clean as Lia lay beneath you with a fucked out expression gracing her face.

“You did so well, princess,” you cooed softly as you placed soft kisses all over her face. Lia whimpered softly at your praise, her mind foggy from how well you fucked her.

You removed the strap on from your hips, tossing it to the floor to be dealt with in the morning. “Get some rest,” you whispered against her hairline as she curled into you.

“What about you,” she sighed tiredly, exhaustion hitting her hard.

“Next time,” you whispered as her breathing evened out as sleep took over.

You two would have to talk about what this meant for the two of you but for now, you were content to just hold her as she slept. Your evening might not have gone how you originally planned but you were grateful you had to cancel on your date.

#woso x reader #awfc x reader #lia wälti x reader #lia wälti #arsenal wfc x reader

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becca-e-barnes · 1 year

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Sub Bucky and a breeding kink 💀 dead unlived it's one of my favourite things 😌

This is pretty high up there on my list of dream fantasies 🥵 these are two of my biggest weaknesses, don't even look at me rn

One of life's greatest joys is cuddling with the other person's head resting on your chest so you can play with their hair and rub their shoulders. I love that shit, having someone else's body weight on you is so comforting.

I imagine that's something Bucky would really enjoy too. It's so soft and sweet and tender and getting to feel cared for would really appeal to him.

But that's up until his hands work their way under your top, up over your bare skin so he's able to cup your breasts and bury his face between them while he's getting his hair played with. Life's pleasures don't get much simpler than that.

After a few moments he shifts slightly, tugging the neckline of your shirt out of the way to give himself space to kiss and nip your skin. All of a sudden he's desperate and it's beautiful to watch.

"Please." He whispers between frantic kisses, flicking his tongue over the stiff peak of your nipple before engulfing it with his warm, eager mouth.

"Please, what?" You tease, tugging on his hair just a little for emphasis.

He groans, frustrated by his own lack of coherence, pulling his mouth from your nipple. "Please let me put a baby in you."

That's not what you were expecting but fuck, he makes it sound pretty appealing.

"Bucky-" You begin but he cuts you off, giving your other nipple the same attention as he gave the first. God, that's distracting.

"You'd make. Such. A pretty. Mommy." He whispers, kissing his way down your body until he reaches the bottom seam of your top. From there, he pulls it off, letting it fall to the floor before removing the rest of your clothes.

"You'd look so pretty with a little baby bump." His huge hand rests on your bare tummy, imaging how your body would change.

"I want it, Buck." You mean it too. It doesn't sound like such a bad idea when he's taking his clothes off.

"I know you want it." He groans, rubbing the tip of his dick against your soaked core. "Y-you're so wet."

He presses his hips forward, sliding inside you and you can't explain it but you swear it feels different this time.

"Don't even think about pulling out." You cup his face in your hands, keeping his eyes on you and you almost worry he's going to fuck himself senseless into you. "I want you to make me a mommy. You're going to give me every single drop of cum and when it starts to drip out of me, you're going to fuck it back in."

His head falls onto your shoulder, sobbing a pathetic moan against your already hot skin. The pace of his thrusts matches his need, his hips slamming into yours and when he finally gives in, he cums inside you with your legs clamped around his waist, making sure he couldn't pull out even if he wanted to.

#asks answered <3 #becca writes spice #anon #sub!bucky #subby bucky #this is one of those fantasies that's nice in my head #I think I'd like to be at that point in my life but it's absolutely not where I'm at rn #maybe some day tho #I started writing a new series yesterday #making a lil moodboard #excited to post the concept #can't decide if I want each chapter to feel like a continuation of the one before #or if I want the chapters to be more detached from each other with time passing in between #might actually space it out over a weekend?#I took my lil granny out for lunch today and she's just the cutest #she usually comes up to ours for Sunday lunch but my parents were out this weekend #so I made her dinner last night and took it down to her and I asked if she wanted to go out for Sunday lunch for a change #she made me book the table right there in front of her so she'd be able to look forward to it 🥺#I sat with her for over an hour yesterday evening and she smiled nearly the whole time #she's too cute I swear

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babyleostuff · 23 days

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[ 💿 ] . . .TAPE 7

함께라서 웃을 수 있고 / 너라서 울 수도 있어 / 그렇게라도 못할 게 어딨어 / 언제 어디에 있어도 / 함께하지 못해도 우린 늘 그렇듯 / 웃음꽃 피워요 / 그대 미소에 봄이 돼줄게요

☁️ "smile flower" by seventeen

being loved by lee jihoon means being safe. he may not be a person who speaks loudly about his love or shows it through physical affection, but despite the lack of these things, you know that you will always be safe with him. he always covers the corners of sharp places so you don't bump into them and get hurt, he always walks on the outside of the sidewalk, he always has a change of shoes with him when you're wearing high heels, he carries your bag when it's heavy so you don't strain your shoulder. it doesn't even need to be mentioned that when you're at a party where there are a lot of people, jihoon always has his arm around your waist, and if he sees someone bothering you, he quickly shoos the uninvited stranger away with a not-so-nice expression on his face. the best part of it all? doing all of those things are so natural for him that most of the time he doesn't even realise he's doing them.

being loved by lee jihoon means you will always have someone to hug. jihoon has his limits when it comes to physical touch and he's not afraid to talk about them and openly admit when he feels uncomfortable with it. while as for you - there are no limits for you (you can say that this is one of your partner privileges). of course, he sometimes needs space from you when he's overwhelmed, but that's completely normal. however, you know that you can always, always hold his hand, hug him, wrap your hand around his bicep, or lean your head against his shoulder. in that aspect, he's like your anchor - when you feel overwhelmed, sad, or when your anxiety is bothering you, you know that you can always turn to jihoon. it's kind of a mystery to him how just his touch can calm you down, but if that's the way it is, he's more than willing to be there to hold you when you need it.

being loved by lee jihoon means being his muse. yes, this might be cheesy but it's true - you inspire him like no one else. there is something about you that no one else in the world has, and jihoon will be forever grateful that you are with him despite his demanding job, when sometimes you don't see each other for months and you only see each other through facetime. the way you support him, through thick and thin, the fact that your dates most often involve you sitting in his studio, the fact that sometimes you have to put up with his moods due to work - he will never be able to repay you for it. that's why you inspire him to create new music and lyrics, because in his mind this is the only way he could be able to express at least a hint of how grateful he is for having you in his life.

being loved by lee jihoon feels like a quiet night when everyone is fast asleep, like a goodnight kiss, like two hands holding each other with no intentions of letting go, like the waves hitting the shore, like the gentle voice of your lover singing you to sleep.

“i like myself better when i'm with you.” - mitch albom, tuesdays with morrie

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei

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oliver-quick-ens-my-pulse · 1 year

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In The Library

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader

Summary - Request for “Could you please write a NSFW scenario where Ominis and the female MC are working on homework in the library at night time. They start chatting, first about normal, everyday stuff but then the conversation turns playfully risqué, the topic comes up and MC admits that she's never been intimate with anyone before, Ominis is a little surprised because he thinks her and Sebastian have probably gotten together but MC admits that she has a crush on Ominis and then things kinda go however you want from there. Maybe they end up messing around in the library, out of sight? I love your writing ♥️"

Word Count - 1,540

Warnings - 18+ smut, somewhat exhibitionist

A/N - I feel like this definitely appeals to the folks who really like dialogue and dirty talk

You and Ominis were sat next to each other in the library. You had been lucky enough to find a spot with peace and quiet and best of all, Sebastian hadn't come to intrude you. You really enjoyed spending alone time with Ominis and felt like it didn't happen often enough.

You were about finished with the questions you had to answer for the assignment you were working on and you kept stealing glances at Ominis. He had such a particular beauty about him. His alabaster skin and clouded over blue eyes were such a striking contrast. His blonde hair always sat perfectly atop his head and you had such a strong urge to run your fingers through it to mess it up.

You loved watching his fingers glide across the braille pages in front of him it was almost as mesmerizing as listening to him read out loud to you. You caught yourself leaning towards him when your chair tipped over and you bumped right into his shoulder.

"Sorry," you muttered as you pulled yourself back up.

"Are you tired, Y/N?" Ominis marked his page before closing up his book, "We can be finished for the night if you'd like."

"No! I — I mean, no. I just finished with what I was working on for now so I was lost in my thoughts for a minute. I didn't mean to intrude in your personal space and distract you."

He smiled softly, turning to face you, "I don't mind. It might be good to take a break for a few minutes."

He leaned back, stretching out his arms and fingers over his head and you just fell back into admiring him. His smiled turned into a smirk and he rolled his eyes in your direction.

"I can tell you're staring at me."

Your cheeks turned red and you shuffled your books around to seem busy, avoiding his statement.

"It seems Sebastian hasn't landed you in detention in a few weeks."

You appreciated his change in topic and shrugged, leaning forward with your elbows on the table, "Well, he's been spending a lot of time with that student who showed up in 5th year. I'm not really sure what that's all about."

Ominis read your tone as one of jealousy, "Is that such a problem?" He sounded slightly annoyed, assuming you'd much rather have been studying with the other boy instead.

"I think it's pretty relaxing not having him around all the time," you confessed, struggling to read his expression, "I think it's been too long since you and I have spent time together without being his babysitter."

"I do agree, but I'll admit I thought you were closer with Sebastian than that."

"What are you talking about?" You angled your chair towards him, curious.

"I just thought that, well, you were..." his words trailed off and he gestured with his hand, trying to get you to understand the end of his sentence.

"Oh, gross! I would never with him. What is wrong with you Ominis? He's just an annoying brother to me."

This had his interest piqued; to hear that you lacked an intimate interest in Sebastian, but here you were with him.

He laughed lightly, "You can't blame me for thinking that. I'm not the only one. If not him then who else? Is there a mystery man in your life?" He teased you.

You felt a little taken aback that Ominis was asking you that. It also caused you to feel somewhat bashful.

"Well, no, why does there have to be anyone? What about you? I don't see ladies crawling all over you."

He wet his lips, giving you his full attention as he reached out to place a hand on your bicep.

"I might tell you, but we are talking about you right now. We spent the better part of 7 years here and there's no one that's caught your interest? That you've even experimented with."

You nearly choked on your own saliva when he asked you that. You hissed his name from your lips, quieting your voice to continue the conversation.

"Are you serious? You're asking me that here? No, I've never done anything like that, I'm way too busy with my studies."

"Never? What does that extend to? Surely you've kissed someone."

"Of course I have. Here and there, but nothing that was memorable, nobody I even care to remember."

"Have you had any clothes off with anyone around?" His voice was low and you convinced yourself that it was just to be quiet and avoid getting in any trouble.

You squeezed your thighs together to hide the heat you were feeling, but unfortunately his hand was firmly above our kneecap.

"O-Ominis, why are you asking me these questions?"

He traced over your leg with his fingers, completely fixated on you.

"I'm just curious."

You scooted your chair closer to him out of fear that you would be caught having this conversation any moment. Even if it was just Sebastian it would be mortifying.

"No, I haven't okay. I just wanted to wait for the right person."

"If that's true why are you telling me all of this?"

You turned your face away from him, speaking so he could barely hear it.

"I wanted you to be the person. I always have."

When you said that every ounce of restraint that Ominis had flew out the window. He sat up straight and took his hand back to adjust himself in his chair. He then searched for your chin, turning you back towards him.

"Then take off your undergarments."

You were floored, not having expected those to be the next words from his mouth. He felt your jaw go slack and leaned into your neck.

"If you keep your mouth open like that then we're going to have to go somewhere else." You shivered hearing the lust in his voice.

You looked around and there wasn't a soul near you. You could hear faint chatter from the first floor, but you were fairly isolated in a corner all the way up on the second floor.

You moved your hands underneath the table, jumping when he places a hand back on your thigh. His touch feels like fire now. You sit up enough to slip your underwear past your bottom and over your thighs where Ominis catches it with a finger. He slides them past your knees and lets them hit the ground with no remorse.

"You're a good girl," he remarks.

You lean against his shoulder as his hand slides past your thigh, catching some of the wetness that had leaked from your underwear.

"Ominis w-what are you doing?"

"Well, I'm not seeing anything, but I'm okay with skipping over that part for now to feel some things instead. And to make you feel some things that I think you need."

You bit into your lip hard, turning your face against his arm and clutching at his cloak as you felt a finger prodding your slick. He dragged his finger through your folds, nudging your sensitive clit and you whined against him.

"And you want to do this here?"

He swirled his finger around your entrance, slowly making his way inside.

"Merlin, you're tight," his voice was breathy as he continued going in and out of you, "There are a lot of things I'd like to try elsewhere, but I think you enjoy the risk of being in here."

He added a finger inside of you, stretching your walls and making you squirm in your seat. You squeezed your eyes closed when he added his thumb to your bundle of nerves, continuing to pump in and out of you at a steady pace.

"Ominis," his name feel from your lips are you were begging him, but you weren't sure what for. You knew you should want him to stop and not do this here, but you hadn't ever felt so good. It was nothing like any time you had ever touched yourself.

"Say my name just like that when you cum, okay?"

You were practically falling over into his lap as you started to see stars. He held you up and kissed the top of your head as he rubbed quicker circles.

"Cum for me, darling, I wanna feel your pussy pulse around me." You clamped a hand over your own mouth as you bucked your hips against his palm eagerly. You muttered his name and though it was muffled you knew he must have heard it.

As you rode out your orgasm you rested yourself in his lap, feeling exhausted, but happy. He used his free hand to nudge you upright into your seat. He would have loved to see the look of bliss on your face, but he had to settle for your gasp when he removed his fingers from you and put them in his mouth, sucking them clean with a soft pop.

"You taste wonderful, Y/N. I think I'll be hungry for seconds very soon."

You sighed and rested your head against your hands to catch your breath. Truly, your brain was just catching up to everything that just transpired.

"Ominis, you are going to be the death of me.

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt smut #ominis smut #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt x mc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy smut

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doukeshi-kun · 5 months

Text

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙧!𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩

featuring ⨳ stalker!nikolai gogol x fem!reader

content ⨳ just his usual stalkerish behavior, noncon touching

notes ⨳ i am practicing uhghuh

The rain is heavy. Thunderstorms in the night sky. Even with the windows tightly closed, you are shivering under your duvet. If you trace your arm, perhaps your fingertips will run across tiny bumps on your skin. It is a bit regretful on your part because you wear a sleeveless top to go to sleep. But it was not that cold when you climbed on the bed a few hours ago.

Heater. Perhaps you could turn on the heater. If it's too hot, you can just discard your duvet away.

You slowly pull away the duvet of your chest but your eyes catch a sight of a tall figure standing quietly just beside your closet. The figure is all black and the only thing that is fully visible in this room lack of light is his mask and his white hair.

Ghost.

You gasp and pull the duvet over your head, hiding.

Hiding from the monster.

You have never thought you would encounter a paranormal phenomenon, especially during this cold, cruel weather. What is it? Slenderman? A spirit? A mimic? A demon? You do not want to find out—this confined space, this blanket, it is already your safest space.

If this is a nightmare, you want to wake up.

“Are you cold?”

“Ah—” you gasp when you feel a cold touch on your ankle. You let out a small whine, trying to pull your foot away but then your ankle is grabbed tightly, with a thumb rubbing your skin gently.

“You're cold,” the figure whispers and goosebumps creep up your spine when his voice sounds nearer. It is like he is behind you, looming over your lying body. His hand from your ankle goes loose but it makes its way up your leg, touching your calf, thigh, and waist until it rests on your tummy. His skin touches yours and you can hear his heavy breathing as you feel his hand pressing slightly on you. You gaze down to your stomach, seeing a large palm touching your body before it retracts.

This is not a demon, a ghost or a monster—this is just a person.

“Haa... F-Fuck...”

You hear him groaning under his breath as if he's muffling a moan. You don't know what he is doing but you do not want to look. You let yourself hide beneath the duvet, praying to some deities to shoo him away.

“I'm sorry, my dove. I must have scared you,” his voice looms over you again, this time much gentler. Then you feel his hand hold your shoulder before a whisper tickles your ear. “I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, little love,”

Tomorrow? What happens tomorrow? Breakfast, work, lunch, work, a short tour at the haunted fair to grab new merch, maybe a cheap dinner at the convenience store. What happens tomorrow? What's so special about tomorrow?

“What—”

You get up abruptly, pushing the duvet off your head as you sit up on the bed. The rain is still pouring heavily, though the thunder has calmed down. The room is starting to feel warm and you hastily get up to the heater, only to see it has been turned on and set to the right temperature you always prefer.

You turn to the closet, the place where you first see the black figure. None. Empty. He is gone. He has disappeared. Sleep couldn't slow down the pace your heart is beating right now. All you could think of were his gentle touch and his consoling voice.

And you already miss him.

©doukeshi-kun 2024 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @/cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

#道化師-jest❃ུ۪ #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd imagines #nikolai imagines #bsd nikolai gogol #bsd nikolai x reader

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dimlylittorch · 5 months

Text

Starved: Edition 1

Alejandro Vargas x soft!reader/chubby!reader

(Sticking with the archivist!reader for most of my fics bc it’s an easy pov for me to write since I’m a history major at university)

i just have a soft personality and i’ve never felt the touch of a man, so i write these to make myself feel better😭. Basically just Ale with his soft/chubby partner and him figuring out how starved for affection they are. This is how they are introduced! Let me know if you guys want to read more :D

My Masterlist🌱

Warnings: Fluff

(Future parts would have smut if anyone is interested in me continuing this!!)

You’d only worked on base for a month or so. You’d gotten to know your rounds, and you’ve memorized faces and names. You knew basically everyone since it was your job to keep track of things, as the base archivist. Sorting records and files, keeping up with people’s paperwork, etc. You had hardly met, let alone seen the Los Vaqueros team though. It was a rare occasion when they were on base- only for important missions where both teams were needed at once. There was an upcoming mission that fell under this category. The Los Vaqueros started arriving on base, and everything was a scramble to get sorted. You noticed the mess of it all, the lack of organization.

‘Organization. If there’s one thing I’m good at- it’s that.’ You thought to yourself with a faint smile.

You grab one of your empty notebooks that you kept for whenever you needed to keep a record of something new, and you clip a few pencils and pens on the front pocket of your shirt. You brushed your hair back as you headed down the hall quickly, trying not to get in anyone’s way. You were fairly good at being unnoticeable, despite you looking different from everyone else. You had one of the only jobs where physical fitness wasn’t a main requirement. It was odd, being surrounded by a sea of muscle- especially muscular men. You had to admit, though.. for the first time in your life- you were the small one. And that didn’t feel half bad.

You notice Captain Price barking out orders as he tries to get everything sorted, the Los Vaqueros men bringing in shipments of cargo and supplies and setting them wherever there was space. You walk up gently, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a man carrying a few crates, and you tap on Price’s shoulder. He quickly turns, prepared to continue barking orders, but he sees your soft demeanor and his anger fades slightly.

“Captain?” You say softly, a small smile on your face. “If you’d like- I could take over.” You chuckle as you gesture to your notebook. “It’s want I’m good at, after all.”

He looks down at you with a smile creeping up onto his lips. He shakes his head in amusement and pulls off his hat, brushing a hand through his short hair. He looks around at the mess of it all, everything askew.

“If you think you can order these Vaqueros’ around.. then be my guest, love.” He chuckles faintly, backing up and leaning on the wall slightly, arms crossed over his chest after he puts his hat back on.

You stand in the middle of the wide space, looking at all of the cargo being brought in, trying to mentally keep track of it. You look at the men, none of them paying you even a spare glance. You could try to yell to get their attention- but your voice always cracked when you tried. You didn’t need to embarrass yourself already in front of the Los Vaqueros. You glance around, noticing a taller man at the entrance, talking to every man that passed through the doors. He looked like he was in charge.. You gently walk up to him, being careful not to bump into anyone. You tap his shoulder, just like you’d done to Price moments ago. You watch him turn, looking down at you, his eyebrows raising slightly.

“Excuse me” you say softly, trying your best to be sweet. “Captain Price told me I could help you and your men organize everything- since I know the base well. Would it be too much trouble for you to ask your men to give me their attention?”

Your voice comes out smaller than you would’ve liked it, feeling little under his hard gaze. You watch him glance up, his eyes meeting Price’s for just a moment. He looks back down, eyes scanning your form. He especially wasn’t used to seeing someone like you on a military base. He could tell you were nervous- how you chose your words carefully, trying your best not to offend him. He chuckled under his breath, amused at how quiet you were. He leans down slightly, his face closer to yours.

“And why can’t you ask my Vaqueros’ for their attention directly, pequeño?” He says, a faint smirk crossing his lips.

You feel your cheeks heat up slightly under his gaze, but you smile, trying to play it off.

“I didn’t want to risk undermining your authority, sir.” You say back sweetly, clearly doing your best to please him.

His smirk broadens when he hears how soft you are, your body reflecting your personality. He stands up straight again, whistling and directing his men’s attention to him.

“Vaqueros!” He calls out firmly. “El suave wants to give you orders.” He chuckles, voice laced with amusement, but also smugness. “Listen to them, eh?” He murmurs before he grabs your shoulders, turning you around and pressing on your lower back, making you walk towards the center of the room.

Your cheeks heat up more when you realize how many eyes you have glued to you, some, if not all, laced with amusement.

“H-hello.” You say softly as you look around at them all, trying your best to be nice. “I’m y/n- the base archivist here. I know you all don’t want to be taking orders from a little guy like me- but I promise it’ll flow a lot smoother.” You chuckle with a faint smile, clearly trying to ease their minds and make yourself less anxious.

You hear some of them snort and laugh with incredulity, playfully bumping against the shoulders of one another, as if saying ‘get a load of this one.’ You take a shaky breath, opening your notebook and pulling a pen out of your shirt pocket.

“If we could get rations, weapons, basic survival gear, and fatigues all sorted into different piles- that would be a great start.” You say softly, eyes slightly wide as you stand still, wondering if they’d pay you any mind.

After a few moments of silence, the men start to glance at each other before they start walking towards the cargo, reading the labels and sorting you. You breathe a soft sigh of relief, a relaxed smile crossing your lips. Suddenly you feel a little tap on your shoulder, and you turn around, met with the smirk of the man in charge.

“Listen, pequeño.” He murmurs quietly, leaning down to be closer to your height. “Don’t be so shy with my men. They like a little fire, no?” He chuckles.

Your cheeks flush further, you eyes a little wider as you gaze into his own.

“R-right.” You murmur softly. “Of course. And your name was..?” You ask softly, reaching out your hand, offering a hand shake.

He chuckles at your stuttering, gently taking your hand in his and shaking it.

“Colonel Alejandro Vargas. Leader of the Los Vaqueros. And I take it you’re the 141’s little.. therapy bunny?” He smirks, letting go of your hand and putting his hands behind his back.

The hint in his words makes you sigh, shaking your head in amusement as you smile faintly.

“I’m not a barracks bunny, if that’s what you’re implying Mr. Vargas.” You say softly, eyebrows raised as you look at him with a chastising gaze.

“Mister?” He grins. “I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t called Colonel.”

“I’d rather talk to you as a human first and a rank second.. if that’s alright with you.” You smile softly, holding your notebook to your chest.

His smile grows more genuine. He couldn’t remember the last time someone humanized him.. the last time he wasn’t just a soldier.

“That is perfectly fine with me, pequeño.” He says softly before patting your shoulder gently. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you.” He murmurs as he leans down, flashing you a teasing smirk and a small wink.

Before he steps away completely, he pauses and leans in to whisper into your ear.

“For what it’s worth, little one.. you wouldn’t make for a bad therapy bunny.” He whispers teasingly before he steps away with a smirk.

He slips past you slyly, making his way to go talk to Price before they walk down the hall together. You watch him spare you one last glance as he looks over his shoulder at you, the smirk still glued to his lips.

‘Oh.. right.’ You whisper to yourself, the heat in your cheeks not going away anytime soon.

I hope you guys enjoyed this!! If you’d like a part 2, please let me know- I’m going to try and do a different fic series for every CoD boy, and this idea for Ale just popped into my head first. I’ll be writing more Simon soon too since you guys loved the Sugar And Spice starter so much!!

Asks are always open, and so are tips! I’ll be adding ask rules to my masterlist soon, but in the mean time don’t be afraid to send anything!! <3

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ohbo-ohno · 8 months

Text

Kinktober Day 1 - Leather & Latex

Ghost x Soap - 4k (on ao3)

summary: Simon goes to a kink club looking for a masochist to beat. (Ghost POV)

cw: dom!ghost, sub!soap, sadist!ghost, masochist!soap, heavy painplay, undernegotiated bdsm because i didn't want to write it all out sorry lol but everything is 1000% safe sane and consensual

note: this is really not one of my faves of the month and i hate to start out on a not so strong note but oh well 🫠 hope you guys enjoy!

Simon leans against the bar, scanning the crowd for a potential play partner and swirling his glass of water lazily.

There are a few displays, but they rarely match Simon’s severity. He can hear Valeria whipping someone on a public stage, but her subs can never handle more than one session a night. Valeria’s as mean as he is - she puts on a good show, but always manages to get to the real painsluts before Simon can.

He needs someone who can take a few hits. Tonight his fingers twitch with the need to beat a pretty thing black and blue, he craves the pained cries and tears of a sub suffering so beautifully for him. None of his usual play partners are free tonight, all either coupled off already or busy, which means he’ll have to test drive someone new.

Always risky. In his experience, subs have a tendency to overestimate their pain tolerance when it comes to him. He tries to make his expectations as clear as possible going in, but it’s a coin toss on whether or not the sub will actually understand.

He’s contemplating moving to another club, listening as Valeria’s sub goes from shouting to screaming, when someone sidles up beside him.

The man is big, standing taller than almost everyone around him but barely eye level with Simon’s chin. He’s muscular too, defined abs and pecs displayed by his lack of a shirt. He’s got a chest harness on, one that wraps just under his tits and between them, a leather strap crossing across his collar bones and over his shoulders. There’s a little d-ring in the center - Simon imagines it’s for a leash to be hooked onto, considering his collar-less neck. He’s got something covering his groin at least, just a tiny and tight pair of leather shorts that Simon would bet money let his ass cheeks hang out.

He’s wearing an orange band on his right wrist - submissive, everything goes. Simon’s black band burns on his left - dominant, S&M

He raises his eyes back up the man once he’s done with his perusal, lets them linger appreciatively on his body. Simon’s always liked bigger subs, the ones who look like they can take a few blows and come right back for more.

The mohawked man smirks at him when they make eye contact, leans into Simon’s personal space with an elbow on the counter. “You’re not so bad yourself, handsome.”

Simon only cocks an eyebrow at that. He’s wearing his own leather pants and a tight latex top with a surgical mask over his nose and mouth, meaning there’s very little skin left uncovered for this sub to see. “Cocky, are we?”

The sub hums a little more, moves even further into Simon’s space. Surprisingly, he finds he doesn’t quite mind the intrusion. “Aye, I know I look damn good tonight. You lookin’ for someone to beat?”

Ah, right to business. Simon finds he likes this sub more and more every minute.

“Yes,” he replies, turning his body fully towards his potential partner and straightening up. “Need someone who can take whatever I decide to give. You gonna give out in the first twenty lashes?”

That gets him a snort, the smaller man moving so close they’re nearly bumping chests. “I hope that’s your warmup. Takes a lot to hurt me, I’m a right painslut. You up to the challenge?”

Simon gives the man another long look, assessing him a bit more, trying to gauge how much of his tone is bravado and how much is genuine. “What’s your name?”

“Johnny. Yours?”

“Simon. But you’ll call me Sir. Are you good with the traffic light system?”

Johnny perks up, like he hadn’t expected such an easy agreement. “Aye. You want to do this in private or on a stage?”

Simon shrugs, already abandoning his water and stepping away from the bar. “Up to you.”

“Showroom, then.”

Simon smirks at the decision, somehow unsurprised that this little sub is a bit of an exhibitionist. He strides off to the showrooms, doesn’t bother to glance over his shoulder to make sure Johnny’s following along.

There are already several people sitting in the audience for the impact-play room, watching another Dom carry their sub out through the one-way mirror. Simon holds the door open for Johnny once they’ve both cleared their intent with the dungeon monitor, confirming that they’re using the traffic light system as safe-words and that they’re going inside with no intention of having sex, just of beating and being beaten. Johnny’s antsy through the whole discussion, nearly bouncing on his toes in anticipation. It makes Simon’s lips curl beneath the mask, makes him want to grab the boy and force him still.

He pulls the mask off once they’re alone in the room, uncaring about their small audience seeing his face.

“Och, you really are handsome,” Johnny flirts, sliding up to Simon’s side and eyeing him like he’s his next meal.

Simon wraps a hand around his throat, has him pinned against the wall before Johnny even realizes he’s been moved. “That’s not how you refer to me, Johnny.”

The smaller man smirks, licks his lips and leans forward so Simon’s nearly choking him. “You really are handsome, Sir.”

That earns him a backhand to the face, gets Simon a sharp exhale and wide eyes in return. “Watch the attitude. You’re already getting the beating you want so badly, bratting won’t get you anywhere with me.”

This time, Johnny’s “Yes, Sir,” sounds far more sincere.

He pulls him away from the wall with a hand on his shoulder, sends him stumbling towards a Saint Andrew’s Cross in the middle of the room with a smack to the ass. “Stand there, back to me.”

Johnny swings his ass as he walks, sends a sultry look over his shoulder. Simon is careful not to give him anything, just crosses his arms and stands tall.

He moves forward once Johnny’s leaned on the cross, straps his ankles and wrists into the attached cuffs and double checks he’s not cutting off any circulation. He stands in front of Johnny for a moment, cups his chin and stares deep into the sub’s eyes to try and get a feel for his headspace. His eyes are clear, sparking with anticipation.

Johnny smirks up at him. “You’re gonna beat me black and blue, aren’t you?”

Simon can’t help the twitch of his lips. “Oh, I’ll break you, boy.”

“You’ll try.”

That gets Johnny his second slap of the night, an open-palmed crack against his cheek.

“Watch it. You okay with being naked, or you wanna keep those little shorts on?”

Johnny snorts a laugh. “Take ‘em off, they’re hardly covering much anyway. Get the harness off, too?”

Simon scowls at the expectant tone when he steps around Johnny, yanks his zipper down and leaves the shorts hanging loose around one ankle. He gives Johnny a few harsh blows to his ass, goes until his own palm buzzes pleasurably at the sting. If they were doing anything more than a little painplay, Simon would take the time to work on Johnny’s attitude.

“You just naturally a brat, is that it? You’ll speak to me with respect if you want your beating.”

That gets a moan, has Johnny shifting in his bindings. “Sorry, Sir.”

Simon gives his cheek a smart tap, then a squeeze. He’s got quite the ass, this Scotsman. Simon can’t wait to paint it red. He steps back after a moment of feeling him up, scans his options for the night where they hang against the wall.

He starts off with a flogger. It’s a lightweight thing, with thin leather tresses that’ll make for a nice but decently intense warmup to see if Johnny’s as much of a painslut as he claims. It’s light in his palm, and he swings it in the air a few times to stretch out his wrist and build up a bit of anticipation.

He starts laying strikes when Johnny starts wiggling again, paints them across the boy’s shoulder blades and a bit lower to turn him a light pink. His skin is tanned, so it takes a bit of work on his part. Johnny’s silent at first, still squirming around like he can hardly feel anything, so Simon increases the force of his swings at just a bit of a faster pace than he would’ve with another sub.

Johnny lets out a little sigh, like he’s relaxing into something pleasant, but he stays stiff and upright on the cross. No flinching, no cringing, no whimpering or whining.

Simon smiles to himself. First test, passed.

He continues his warm up, lays harder and harder strikes along Johnny’s shoulder blades and mid-back until he’s painted a nice rosy color, watches him settle a bit as the sting starts to sink in a bit more. By the end of the warm up, Simon loosened his dominant arm and wrist nicely, and set the tone well enough for Johnny to stay quiet and still.

At least, that’s what Simon thinks. Until he steps away to set down the flogger and pick his next tool, when Johnny looks over his shoulder with a confused look.

“That’s it?”

Simon raises an eyebrow. “That’s your warm-up.”

Johnny almost looks disappointed, resting his chin on his bicep. “Oh.”

Simon doesn’t speak, let’s Johnny stew in his own silence until he decides he’d like to finish his thought. It doesn’t take long.

“Are your twenty lashes gonna be like that?”

He fights down a smirk. “It’s a warm-up, Johnny. And you’ll be taking far more than twenty lashes, don’t start getting greedy.”

He doesn’t look fully mollified, but Johnny’s lips tilt up in the corner and he turns his head back to the wall. Simon rolls his eyes at Johnny’s back - God save him from bossy subs. If they were any more committed to each other, Simon would lock Johnny’s little prick up for an attitude like that. He’ll have to settle for humbling him with a few whips. Not the least fair trade-off in Simon’s mind.

He picks up a cat-o-nine with particularly thin leather tails, the type that should leave Johnny hissing if Simon uses it right.

He repeats his process, swings the tool through the air a few times to let Johnny hear it move, let him try and guess what’s coming. Again, he only makes contact once Johnny starts his squirming again.

He whips across the already pinked skin. Johnny sucks in a sharp breath at the first hit, releases it loudly and seems to steel himself for what’s coming. Simon can’t help his smirk now, laying lashes noticeably harder than he might with another sub.

There are clear markings across Johnny’s back where the tails hit, little raised red lines making a nice addition to the base color he’s already got going. It takes Johnny a bit longer to go still this time, takes a bit to settle into the pain but taking the whipping nicely once he does.

The color looks good on him. Johnny’s an incredibly muscular man, and the way he stiffens in anticipation of Simon’s next swing - the way his back muscles spasm a bit against his own will when he hits a particularly sensitive spot - has Simon chubbing up in his pants.

He lets out occasional little sighs at the sting, noises that seem entirely involuntarily as he starts to truly lean into the pain.

Simon adjusts his cock and gives Johnny a break after nearly 30 lashes, doesn’t say anything as he waits for whatever smart-ass remark he’ll get. He shifts back to the wall of tools as he waits, picks his next instrument.

Johnny doesn’t disappoint. He doesn’t glance over his shoulder this time, stays nice and still, loose, like the pain is starting to get to him.

“They got anythin’ more intense back there? No offense, Sir, but it’s lookin’ like your bark is bigger than your bite from this end of the leather-”

Crack!

That gets a loud cry from Johnny, his head thrown back and his spine arching away from the pain. The bullwhip feels good, familiar, in Simon’s palm, and he turns it a bit as he watches Johnny blink wide-eyed, watches him sink back into the correct position with a stiffer posture.

“Still think you can take your twenty lashes?”

Johnny huffs, hangs his head and shakes out his shoulders as best he can in his bindings. Simon watches as he slowly unlocks each of his muscles, smirks at the sign of an experienced painslut. Johnny knows damn well that the tenser he is the more he’ll hurt, and as much of a whore as he might be for his whippings, twenty lashes with a bullwhip are hard to take even loose-limbed.

Simon lets the whip drag on the floor, then cracks it through the air next to Johnny’s side. He laughs when the boy nearly jerks himself off of his cross, let’s his voice echo menacingly in the room to work Johnny up a bit more.

“Gonna have to be still if you don’t want to hurt yourself, Johnny. Be good now.”

Johnny drops his head a bit, groans as he clearly talks himself into going still. He does so a moment later, body nearly deadweight against the cross.

“Attaboy,” Simon rumbles. He snaps the whip, watches the sharp stripe of red form on Johnny’s back and nearly smiles when he cries out again. “Start counting.

Crack!

“Ugh, fuck, th-three.”

“Nope, you didn’t count the first two. Start over.”

“You’re fucking kidd-?!”

Crack!

“Fine- shit, one!”

Crack!

“T-two, Christ…”

“I don’t think I like your tone, Johnny. Start over. With respect this time.”

He really does smile at the agonized sound Johnny lets out. Poor little maso, doesn’t even know what he’s got himself into by baiting Simon all night.

“We’ll do twenty-five, just to make sure all that nasty attitude is properly beaten out of you. Remember to watch your tone.”

Crack!

“One, Sir!”

“There you go, Johnny, good boy.”

Crack!

“Two, Sir!”

The lashes look very nice along Johnny’s back. Simon almost wants to step forward and trace them with his tongue, watch Johnny cry out at the sting soothed by the soft muscle, whip him across that same spot and watch him wail…

Crack!

“Five… five, Sir!”

Simon’s careful not to let the whip wrap around at any points, lands his lashes in firm safe-zones to avoid any serious injury. It’s got the extra perk of layering his lashes on top of each other, making Johnny scream when he gets one after the other in nearly the same spot.

Crack!

“Seven, Sir… fuck…”

He doesn’t allow himself to fully sink down as he whips Johnny, he knows he needs to stay alert in case his sub’s tone shifts to anything that indicates real danger, but he lets himself float into Domspace just a bit. He feels powerful as he whips Johnny.

“Ten, Sir!”

Johnny’s shoulders quivers, and Simon adjusts himself in his pants again. There’s something so satisfying about bringing such a large, strong, masculine man to his knees (metaphorically, of course, seeing as Johnny couldn’t fall to his knees if he wanted to, tied up as he is). Johnny had walked through that club like he owned the place, head thrown back and showing off every piece of his body he could get away with.

“T-Twelve, Sir!”

It feels good to put him in his place. To metaphorically grind his heel firmly onto Johnny’s back, have him literally writhing and shouting while tied to a cross, taking his lashes like a good boy. The sight of such sharp red lines over all those hills and valleys of muscles…

“Sev… seventeen!”

“Seventeen what?”

“Sir! Sir, sir, seventeen, sir!”

Crack!

“Ei-Eighteen, Sir! I’m sorry, so sorry, Sir…”

“That’s alright, you’re still doing good, Johnny. Check in with me - you alright to keep going?”

The look Johnny shoots over his shoulder is almost offended, and surprisingly put-together considering his previous cries. “Course, Sir. Am still green. Will let you know if am not.”

Simon almost snorts. “Back around. You’re not done taking your lashes.”

There’s a smile on his lips when Johnny obeys his command. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hm. Keep counting.”

Crack!

“Nineteen, Sir!”

Simon’s surprised Johnny’s as coherent as he is at this point. He’s never pushed quite so far with a play partner on the first night, but Johnny’s eyes had been nearly clear when he’d glanced over his shoulder, only a few light traces of tears down his cheeks.

Crack!

“Twenty-two! S-Sir!”

His last three lashes are the hardest, even though Johnny’s already taken so much. He wants the boy broken down to pieces, wants him sobbing and unable to control it, wants him trembling and gasping for air in Simon’s arms.

Johnny nearly screams the final numbers, each of them laid one over the other.

“Twenty-five! Twenty-five, S-Sir!”

“Hmm, good boy, Johnny. Took your lashes well for me.”

Simon lays the cruel whip back in its place, steps around in front of Johnny and cups his chin to raise his face and make eye-contact.

Those last few lashes did their job, Johnny already looks far more fucked out than he had only minutes earlier. The stream of tears down his face is constant now, but his brow is smooth and his lips quirk up into a little smile, giving Simon all of his weight and trusting him to hold him up.

Simon strokes his leather-clad thumb over Johnny’s chin. “Color?”

Johnny doesn’t answer right away, clearly focuses on cataloguing himself and the pain now that it’s not coming so consistently. Simon’s glad to see him take the time to answer truthfully, continues to stroke across his chin for a bit of comfort. Eventually, Johnny blinks back up at Simon and says, “Green, Sir.”

He can’t help but smile a little. “Want to go a little longer, then?”

That gets him a smirk. “If your arms aren’t tired yet.”

Simon backhands him, lets his chin go so he jerks into his own arm and muffles his groan into his bicep.

“Never met a brat who’s quite as much of a painslut as you. It’ll be fun to watch you beg.”

Johnny’s canines peek out behind his lips when he grins. “Do your worst, Sir.”

Simon gives him a sharp little tap to the cheek, another to his ass when he walks away. “I’ll make you regret that, Johnny. You’ll be sceamin’ yourself hoarse by the time I’m done with you.”

The gloves Simon slips on after taking his off are heavy, a little warmer than he’d usually like for daily use, but the sharp spikes down each of the fingers are what really matters. He tests one with a fingertip as he talks to Johnny, smirks at the sting.

“You wish. Haven’t had a Dom make me cry like that in years, you think you’ll be the one to break my streak?”

Simon smirks as he hovers just at Johnny’s side, feels the heat emanating from the sub’s body and watches sweat drip down his back.

“Oh, I know I will.”

He lands a sharp smack against Johnny’s bared ass, makes sure to curve his fingers just so to make sure Johnny feels each and every barb.

He yelps, jerks away from the sting and squirms a little in his binds. Simon bites his tongue to keep from laughing as he watches Johnny’s face go from teasing and a little dazed to shocked, wide-eyed and mouth gaping.

He doesn’t wait for another response, only begins to rain down smacks on Jonny’s ass. He’s careful not to slam the spikes too deeply - doesn’t know how Johnny is with blood, doesn’t want the dungeon monitor to make it his business when Simon is so close to bringing Johnny down - but that doesn’t blunt the impact any. With the spacing of the spikes and his own fingers, it’s nearly impossible for him to not layer the hits over one another.

Simon angles himself just a little further forward, to get a better look at Johnny’s face as he starts to writhe, starts to try and run from the pain. His face is scrunched up beautifully, tears dripping down his chin and to the floor. He grits his teeth against moans.

They go like that for a bit. Simon moves himself fully behind Johnny to land slaps with both hands at once, spends some time with just Johnny’s upper thighs for a bit so they don’t feel neglected. His whole back is red, from shoulders to thighs, and the sight gives Simon that rush he’s been itching for all day.

When Johnny goes from moans to whimpers Simon moves to the front of the cross, places his gloved-hands lightly over Johnny’s chest to get his attention.

“Look at me, Johnny.” Simon waits, gives the sub as soft a smile he can when Johnny’s teary eyes meet his. “Color?”

It takes a moment, but Johnny stutters out, “G-green,” with a breathless pant, his body loose against the cross.

Simon hums as he wraps his arms around Johnny, presses his elbows tight to the boy’s ribs and places his hands firmly on Johnny’s shoulders. “Good boy.”

He drags down over the lashings, watches with rapt attention as Johnny screams.

His face goes red with it, veins popping in his neck, spit dribbling down his chin, body fighting to get away from the pain even tied as firmly to the cross as he is. Simon smiles, strokes his hands up and down in uneven patterns without easing the pressure.

“F-fuck, fuck, oh my God, sir- sir, I- fuck!”

“That’s it,” Simon chuckles, gives a few harder presses into place he knows Johnny’s more sensitive and relishes in the sound of his scream cracking. “Scream for me, boy, c’mon.”

He follows commands beautifully, Johnny. Simon’s not sure he’s ever been so satisfied watching a sub break down, watching them lose all control and go into the pain completely.

He lets himself indulge in Johnny’s pain-filled expression for as long as his boy can bear, drags his hands up and across his most sensitive spots, squeezes his ass a few times to reignite that sting.

Eventually Johnny manages to blink hazy eyes up at Simon, murmurs, “Yellow, Sir,” softly, tears still dripping down his cheeks and his breath hitching.

Simon can’t hold back his smile as he takes the gloves off, unchains Johnny and eases his limbs down. The Scot is all dead weight in his arms, but Simon’s more than strong enough to carry one subbie out of a showroom.

He’s careful with the way he carries Johnny so he doesn’t aggravate any painful spots - he hefts him over his shoulder, keeps a hand behind both of his knees to hold him steady and resists the urge to stroke his glowing ass, to feel how the heat emanates from it. There’s a little drunk giggle from over his back when he flips Johnny up.

The previous Dom and sub have cleared out the aftercare room just outside of the showroom, meaning Simon’s got free reign to coax his sub for the night down to planet Earth.

He lays him out, stomach down, on a long leather couch. The furniture’s upkeep cost must be insane considering how many sweaty bodies have laid across it, but it’s in pristine condition as Simon sits.

He tucks Johnny’s head into his lap, turns his face to the side and gives him long, slow pets down his mohawk. Johnny hums a bit at the contact, burrows his face deep into Simon’s stomach and reaches his free hand down to wrap around Simon’s ankle.

He’s endearing when he’s blissed out, his little face peaceful and his limbs loose, his back covered in Simon’s marks and his sub seemingly all the happier for it. He’ll have to get some soothing cream in a few minutes, have to properly take care of Johnny’s body when he’s not conscious enough to do it for himself.

But that can wait. For now, Simon leans his head against the back of the couch, continues his soothing motions through Johnny’s hair, and thinks about how he’ll coax the sub into another session sooner rather than later.

#this one is so much longer than it was supposed to be im so sorry lol #ghoap #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #bo writes #john soap mactavish x simon ghost riley #john mactavish x simon riley #soap mactavish x ghost riley #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day 1 #ghoap smut #ghostsoap smut #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #hey google how do i get people to see my fic without putting it in the tags for people looking at like gifs and stuff #kinktober

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demoniccomplex · 4 months

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can i request 12 and 27 with sigma for the valentines event? i am loving your work 😭😭

12 (“please..just let me hold you.”) + 27 (“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you’ll understand eventually why I had to do this.. Stop it with those eyes and tears please..”)

sorry for delaying this one for so long, life has indeed been catching up with me and i reap the consequences. anyways WC 654 // valentines event closing on the 17th! TWS: kidnapping, implied drug usage, forced proximity

Originally plans to go to the sky casino were off the table for you, ignoring each offer that came by. Simply put, you weren't interested in going at all, however you got pulled along with some heavy convincing. You really should’ve stood your ground more, yet you plead ignorance for fun. There were moments where you could proudly say you were having fun, little drinks between watching then playing. It was nice even despite the times you felt as though you had look over your shoulder just in case. Bumping into the manager of the casino a few times did set you off in anxiety but as tiny bits of alcohol kicked in, it soothed you only a little to where you stopped paying attention to him. Faces blurred together at points and that was the downfall of your freedom, next blink you were in a different room with the lights off.

Your panic started off right away, overruling your headache due to the lack of hydration. The room was comforting in the way everything was laid out, everything neatly placed that made the room not too crowded. You couldn't even comprehend if you were breathing, escaping then figuring out what was going on and what happened. Moving your legs off the bed felt like it was chained down, sore and in pain. What on earth happened?, you finally caught sight of your ability to breathe and started to get up more.

“Oh. Did I hurt you too badly? If so, I really didn't mean to.”

You look up rushed, pain wracking at your head again causing you to grimace. A figure was close to you, it was the manager of the casino, the one you kept bumping into.

“Don't worry, there's water, you should really drink some, you drank a lot earlier.”

You began to question him on what was going on and why you were in a dark room suddenly with only him inside. His posture straightened up while his nails dug into his palms at the questions you were asking of him. He shook his head, trying to convince you of a normality that did not exist in this situation. Every question made his cheeks just a little brighter along with his eye contact starting to fail. You tried to get up to leave before Sigma jumped up and blocked your only way out. You stagger back, hurting your jaw as it tightens out of confusion and other mixed up emotions. Sigma got a little closer to you, gently grabbing your arm while his eyes swirled with infatuation. “You’re so pretty..”

Again you tried to back up but Sigma just got closer, taking up the space that you abandoned to get away from him. Trying to pull your arm away from him was fruitless and he only got your other arm in his embrace. Sigma tried to pull you closer to him but you kept up your fight still trying to get him off while non-politely telling him to back off. “Please.. Just let me hold you. Just once is all I ask..”

It was only a whisper but it still sent chills down your spine at his desperate attempts. Tears started forming aggressively. He starts blabbering on how he really couldn't help himself and how he knew you were such an honest person when he first looked at you. The grip he had on you started to hurt as he buried himself on top of you. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you’ll understand eventually why I had to do this.. Stop it with those eyes and tears please..”

You could only start screaming in the hopes someone would at least come to your rescue, but deep down the answer was clear. This is your new life and only if you’d been a little stronger this wouldn't have even happened.

Plans to go to the sky casino should’ve stayed off the table.

#yandere bsd #yandere bsd x reader #bsd x reader #yandere #bsd #yandere sigma #bsd sigma #sigma x reader

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shares-a-vest · 10 months

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Eddie and Steve's apartment morphs into what can only be described as a baby-proofed cluttered mess when Joanie enters their lives. And it only gets worse once she starts crawling.

Wayne discovers this when he arrives for a short stay over after being called up by the boys, proudly announcing their daughter began getting around on her own.

He chuckles as he looks around the cramped and crowded apartment. He suspects its more a case of keeping necessities within convenient arms reach than anything else. Plus, giving the kid the run of the place.

The dining table is a sight, covered in textbooks and paperwork from Steve's studies. And judging by the highchair set up close to the only cleared dining chair, she must be keeping him company too.

Steve gives a hurried, “Hi” and rushes to said table, collecting up his work to organise into one pile.

The living room is another story.

Each piece of furniture is pushed to the edges of the small room, like it's bursting at the seams and ready to explode out the windows. Everything is out of reach too, including the relatively harmless television remote.

Relatively harmless when you consider Eddie once dunked Wayne's remote into a short-lived fish tank years back...

His old coffee table is pushed up against the wall, making space for a playpen. In the centre of the room is a playmat, where his granddaughter is rolling around as that demonic black cat, Ozzy, examines her from after before vaulting over the couch and disappearing completely.

God knows where that other grey nightmare has got to.

“We live on the floor now,” Eddie enthuses, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

Steve grumbles and nods with grave seriousness as he appears next to him. Despite the good thirty years between them, on a bad day, Steve suffers from the same level of back pain.

“Come on,” Eddie beams, “I gotta show you all the stuff Joanie can do.”

His nephew puffs out his chest, proud.

Wayne smiles. He gets it, he really does. Even though he didn’t become Eddie’s legal guardian until the kid was ten, he’d spent enough time looking after him during the earlier milestones to take pride in them too.

“Eddie, our daughter isn’t a dog!” Steve chastises, pinching his nose.

“What?” Eddie feigns innocence, “I just want to show off all her tricks to her Pa!”

“If anything, that made her sound even more like a participant in a dog show!” Steve reiterates, glaring before lowering down at a snail's pace to join Joanie on the floor.

“Don’t worry,” Eddie mumbles, leaning in with his typical lack of personal space, “He’s just grumpy because he has a bunch of studying to do this weekend.”

“I can hear you, Eddie!” Steve calls from his spot on the floor, “And I’ll have time for us to watch a game,” he looks at his surroundings and grimaces, “… Maybe we’ll go to a sports bar.”

Eddie practically lunges into the living area and bumps into Steve on his way to joining his family, almost toppling the boy sideways.

Wayne follows along slowly, his bad knee already paining him at the thought of sitting on the floor and also (mainly) the dread of somehow finding his way back up.

“You know you’re gonna have to help me up off this rug,” he gripes, sitting on the couch with a loud sigh, "If I had’a known I was gonna end up with a rambunctious granddaughter scuttlin’ around, I would’a billed that top-secret Doc for a knee replacement.”

His back pains a little as he goes, lowering to the floor as he braces himself with his arm on the couch.

“I can ask Nancy to look into that,” Steve offers as he spots him, “… If you want, of course!”

Wayne waves the boy away as he settles with his back against the couch.

Eddie soon slaps at his shoulder as Joanie rolls onto her stomach and pushes up with her hands.

They all sit up a little straighter eager and expectant.

Joanie takes off, crawling with vigour as she makes little grunting noises to spur herself on. She bypasses Steve, who whimpers with disappointment like a sad puppy. And she quickly zooms past Eddie too.

Wayne’s heart swells his granddaughter pauses to look up at him with a wide, toothy smile. But she goes on her way, making a beeline for a purple sparkly dragon plushie upended next to Steve's coveted recliner.

Of course that's what Eddie's offspring would prioritise getting her little hands on.

Joanie plops herself down, holding the toy up in victory as she makes spittle-filled whooshing noises and waves it about.

She remains with her back to the trio left for dust on the other side the living room, off in her own floor-based world.

More of this au HERE

#wayne munson #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie as girl-dads #just a shorter one this time #i had fun writing from wayne's pov in the last one #also ive basically infused wayne with my mother's own knee problems

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starlightkun · 5 months

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❧ word count: 2.0k ❧ warnings: cursing ❧ genre: fluff, angst if you squint?, drabble, childhood friends to lovers, model jungwoo, normal person reader, mark is there but he doesn't pass the sexy lamp test so i'm not calling this a love triangle, also gender neutral reader on this one ❧ extra info: this is a reworked version of a drabble from an old multi-group writing acct of mine from years and years ago. it was previously about hyunjin from stray kids, so if you read this like six plus years ago and it feels vaguely familiar, that’s why! ❧ author’s note: happy new year!

“Oh,” you forced out a giggle, voice cracking awkwardly as you added, “You missed… again.”

“No I didn’t,” he declared steadily, closing the space between you two again.

December 31st.

New Year’s Eve.

Ever since you were little, you had spent every New Year’s with Kim Jungwoo. And he insisted that even though he was a very popular model now and his reputation could easily be ruined with any slight scandal, that fact wouldn’t change. You were his best friend, he insisted, which meant that you would keep your traditions.

And so that’s how you ended up on a balcony at some fancy hotel that his agency had rented out for the occasion, needing some fresh air for a moment. Being around so many people, not to mention that they were all incredibly famous, was overwhelming and exhausting to you sometimes. Checking the time on your phone, you winced when you saw that it was only 10 p.m. Jungwoo had told you that the party would probably last until 2 a.m. at least, meaning that you theoretically still had four more hours of this. Your feet ached from standing and the goofy dancing you had done at first with your equally goofy friend and his surprisingly down-to-earth coworkers. All you really wanted to go home and change into your pajamas and go the fuck to sleep. New Year’s never mattered much to you; it was always Jungwoo who made you have fun on the seemingly pointless holiday.

The thought of your handsome, bright-eyed, and caring best friend brought a familiar bittersweet pain to the left side of your chest. You’d realized the not-so-small crush you had on him last New Year’s, when he’d given you his routine Happy New Year’s kiss on the cheek, and missed, pecking the corner of your mouth gently. It had been pretty easy to ignore your agony-inducing feelings since you didn’t see him much while his model life kept him extra busy. But now that you were at this party with him, and he had pretty much glued himself to your side the entire time, it was difficult to push them away.

For the past thirty minutes, however, you’d had a completely different issue plaguing your mind. One that you knew you needed to talk to Jungwoo about. As if he could hear your thoughts, his voice suddenly manifested from behind you:

“You’re missing Johnny and Haechan’s drinking contest.”

“Their what?” You spun around, looking absolutely bewildered.

“I’m kidding, I needed to get your attention,” Jungwoo let out a melodious chuckle as he stepped closer to you, looking just as dazzling as before in his simple black suit, the jacket having been discarded long ago in favor of just rolling his sleeves up to just below his elbow. That, paired with the slightly-mussed up and wavy hair, gave no aid in calming your thundering heart. How was one man allowed to be that attractive?

“You could’ve said ‘hey.’ You know, like a normal person,” you snorted, going back to leaning against the balcony railing as he joined you.

“Since when have we ever been normal?” He bumped your shoulder.

“Oh, I’m perfectly normal—” You bumped his shoulder back. “It’s you that’s fucking weird.”

“You know, I’d tickle you if I wasn’t afraid of touching the art.”

Your skin heated up immediately, counteracting the chilling winter winds easily seeping into your skin. At your lack of response, Jungwoo spoke again, “So what’s on your mind? You’ve got your thinking frown on.”

Dropping your face into your hands, you mumbled, “Woos, I’ve made a grave mistake.”

“What did you do this time, Y/N?”

“I might have agreed to give Mark a New Year’s kiss.” You took your face out of your hands in time to see Jungwoo’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Like, kiss on the cheek?”

You shook your head.

He seemed more distressed than you, rubbing his face in frustration as he thought. Finally, he groaned and offered, “I’ll tell him that you know… he can’t do that, because you’re my best friend and that’d be weird for me.”

“That’s not what I’m concerned about.” You ignored the twinge in your heart when he called you his friend.

Truth be told, you were doing this hoping that it’d help you get over Jungwoo. Not necessarily by getting into Mark, that wasn’t exactly what you wanted. But just a little extra push to forget about your feelings for your best friend.

Jungwoo’s eyes were nearly popping out of his face as he asked, “So is it like… the actual kiss, then? What, why?”

“I’m a bit rusty,” you mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck.

“So it’s been a few months since you’ve kissed someone, whatever. It’s like riding a bike.”

“More like a few years…”

“How many years?”

“Like… ten? I’ve only ever had my first kiss, okay?” You admitted, your skin prickling hot with embarrassment. “Got a bit… busy after that.”

Jungwoo crossed his arms. “And you’re really going to let Mark Lee be your second kiss?”

You shrugged.

“You don’t know him that well, Y/N.”

“I barely know anybody here,” you pointed out with another shrug. “Why are you making a big deal out of this?”

“I don’t know, don’t you want your first adult kiss to be with someone you know, and who actually cares about you, and isn’t just some guy who would get affection from a rock if he could?”

“Well yeah, but, who would that be?”

“Not Mark.”

“If you can find me someone like that within the next—” you looked at your phone again “—one hour and fifty-six minutes, then sure, Mark Lee won’t be my first adult kiss.”

As you had said that, you looked at him with a newfound fire in your eyes, waiting for him to respond to your implicit challenge. His jaw was clenched, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but decided to close it again, taking a step back.

“Fine.” Jungwoo shook his head, walking back into the venue and managing to disappear his tall form into the crowd.

Your friend’s cold departure from you had left you in a sour mood for all of five seconds before some of his coworkers had found you and provided ample distraction from the tears threatening to make an appearance. Never had Jungwoo ever looked so upset or disappointed in you, and it hurt. It really fucking hurt.

You had a feeling that Jungwoo’s friends had been able to surmise that something bad had happened, considering you wouldn’t even look in his general direction, a stark contrast from just an hour ago when you were laughing together while his arm had been around your shoulder. The ghost of his arm there was still present, and you desperately pressed yourself even further back into the couch you were on to try to rid yourself of it. You really only succeeded in tucking yourself into Yuta’s side, as you were crammed onto the couch with him and a few of the others, not including Jungwoo.

Mark was on your other side, trying to yell out a story above to the constant loud hum, one that Johnny on his other side could apparently understand, as his deep laughs reached your ears. The light tinkling of Taeyong’s laughter brought your attention to your other side, and you felt Yuta attempting to worm himself off the couch. You scooted closer to Mark to give Yuta some more room, and when he stood up, you saw that there was a dark brown stain all down the front of his light-colored suit. Realizing that your sudden jolt into his side must have caused him to spill his drink all over himself, you tried to apologize, but he waved you off and disappeared as well.

Now with more space, you scooted back away from Mark, only by a few millimeters, as the couch was definitely not meant to fit even four people like it was now. As you leaned in to listen to Johnny’s addition to the conversation, you felt someone slide in beside and slightly behind you again and were surprised at how quickly Yuta had returned. But then an arm snaked around your waist and an all-too familiar voice was beside your ear and you knew it wasn’t him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Jungwoo didn’t have to whisper too much, the room was definitely too loud for anybody further than a few centimeters away to hear anything he was saying. “If you want to fuck Mark—”

You snapped your head around to hiss incredulously, “I don’t want to fuck him! Jesus Christ, Woos, it’s a kiss on New Year's. I don’t even like him like that. Like you said, he’s just some guy.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you scoffed.

“I’m sorry. Seriously.”

You elbowed him in the side. “Yeah, yeah, I forgive you. I know you were trying to look out for me. You’re a good friend, Woos.”

“Yeah, I know.”

If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he sounded disappointed when you called him your friend. But when he rested his head on yours and your hopeful heart hopped painfully against your ribcage, you reminded yourself that all you were was his friend, and you had to learn how to be happy with just that.

You were towards the back of the large mass of people crowded around the huge TV announcing the countdown to the New Year. With Mark on your left and Jungwoo on your right, you blamed the heat for your sweaty palms instead of the idea of having your first kiss in a very long time in a very visible place and with a somewhat-random person. It would be just a peck, you had convinced yourself. Not a big deal.

The voices of everyone counting down in unison reverberated through your brain.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

Before you could even turn to the man on your left, you were yanked to the right, a pair of lips descending onto yours in one fluid and firm motion. Jungwoo’s hands were gripping either side of your face and neck, his body pressing against yours, and his mouth meshing with yours in a way you could only describe as perfect. Your own hands grappled for something to hold onto as your breath was stolen from you, finding a somewhat suitable place clutching desperately onto his shirt.

Finally, Jungwoo deemed it necessary to breathe, moving his face back just a few millimeters from yours, a thin line of spit still connecting you two. You widened the distance, taking a few shaky inhalations as you tried to look anywhere except Jungwoo. Which was difficult considering he took up much of your vision, still being only a couple centimeters away.

“Oh,” you forced out a giggle, voice cracking awkwardly as you added, “You missed… again.”

“No I didn’t,” he declared steadily, closing the space between you two again. “There, you kissed someone who actually cares about you. So if you want to go kiss Mark—”

“No.” Shaking your head with determination, you looked him in the eye, “I don’t want to kiss him. Or anyone else…”

“Except me,” Jungwoo finished your implicit statement with a shit-eating grin.

Rolling your eyes, you nodded nonetheless.

“So, can I date you on a proper date, then?”

You pretended to contemplate this for a moment before grabbing his collar and tugging him back down for another kiss, wrapping one hand around the back of his neck. Jungwoo grinned into the kiss, pulling you closer by the hips.

The very amused voice of Taeyong startled you into nearly having an aneurysm, “You two might want to stop that before the CEO comes by to say Happy New Year to everybody.”

You folded your hands politely in front of you, nodding sheepishly as the rest of his friends could only giggle at your being caught.

Mark then complained, “I still didn’t get a New Year’s kiss!”

“Come here, then!” Haechan wrapped an arm around the older man’s neck, pursing his lips as Mark tried to get away. The whole group burst into laughter, taking enough attention off you and Jungwoo for him to take your hand in his.

⤷ blog masterlist

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strangersteddierthings · 11 months

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What's Eight Plus Seven?

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

Being friends with Eddie is interesting, now that Eddie knows they're friends. Or trying to be. Or whatever it is that's happening.

If Steve thought Eddie was in his personal space before, it's nothing compared to now. It's not like this is a revelation to Steve, he's been around and seen how little Eddie cares for everyone else's personal space. It's just interesting to be part of that group, now.

He leans in close to stage whisper about anything and everything, especially if what he has to say will get a stir out of one of the kids. He gets to be on the receiving end of Eddie's touching now. Always touching. Eddie's hand on his arm as they talk, an arm flung around his shoulders as Eddie laughs about something and uses Steve to stay upright, so many high fives and fist bumps. Like, so many.

It's not like Steve is a stranger to touch. Robin leans against him all the time. The kids have no problem doling out hugs and attempted tackles in equal measure. And even the other Hellfire club members have warmed up to him, offering high-fives or handshakes when they show up for games. Except for Gareth, whose sole greeting seems to be clasping hands and pulling him into a half hug before patting him on the back like he's trying to burp a baby.

Not that Steve is complaining about the lack of personal space. He's just making an observation. He can now see just how much Eddie has been holding back when it came to touching him, back when he was still trying to befriend Steve. No, none of this is a problem. It's just, well, Steve didn't expect to crave the physical touch as much as he does now, is all.

It also turns out that beyond losing all access to his own personal space, Eddie is funny, can be kind, and is taking accountability. Steve was witness to Eddie pulling Lucas aside to talk, and even though he couldn't hear what was said, he did get to see the hug it ended it. And while Steve still declines all invitations to actually play Dungeons and Dragons, Eddie's been taking the time to explain it to him. To talk him through the words that swim on the pages of the Player's Handbook. He answers any questions Steve has after ever session of the campaign they play, and recaps the ones Steve isn't around to hear, whether because of work or a migraine (Dustin has a key to his house to let them all in when Steve is gone).

He and Eddie have been hanging out after ever Hellfire session, along with two or three more times in the week. Robin is still the person who Steve spends most of this time with, but Eddie is a close second these days.

So, overall, befriending Eddie has been interesting this last month, and that brings him to the now.

Now, Eddie has just finished cleaning up after the most recent game and Steve is lounging on the couch. It's perpendicular to the table, so Steve's laid out on it, head at the end furthest from the table so that he can watch as well as listen. Steve watches as Eddie fiddles with some papers, brows furrowed in thought, for a good five minutes before Steve speaks up to break the silence, "what are you thinking about?"

"I just- I made you something."

He props himself up on his elbows to get a better view of Eddie, "You made me something?"

"Don't, uh, don't get too excited. It's nothing fancy," he says, before grabbing the pieces of paper he was fiddling with and marching over with determination. "I know that you might never play a game with us, but here."

Steve sits up fully now that Eddie's approached the couch and reaches out to take the pages.

They're homemade character sheets. His character's character sheets. Three pages per character, where he can very clearly see that Eddie has taken the time to keep his handwriting neat, even, and as Steve examines the words, he can see Eddie has done his best to mimic Robin's handwriting, which Steve had mentioned very briefly, and only once, being easy for him to read. Robin's letters all look so different from each other with the 'f' having a slight curve at its top, but every 't' is perfectly straight. For reasons Steve doesn't fully understand, it makes it easier for him to read. Robin's writing rarely swims on the page like printed words do. Even the numbers are painstakingly written to look different. The 6's curve while the 9's are almost as straight at the t's. The 5 perfectly mirror a printed 5, with straight lines and a curved bottom but the 2 looks more like a capital cursive Q, all rounded edges.

The third page of each character sheet, however, has a character portrait drawn in a corner of the page. The top character is his dwarf paladin, drawn to look like Steve with a thick, full, braided beard. He laughs out loud at it, too touched and happy to keep it in. "Did you draw this?"

"Yeah. Will's not the only artist here," Eddie grins at him.

Steve flips to the last page, to see how well Eddie did with the elf magic-user. Steve didn't base this character on himself. When Eddie asked how he imagined the elf to look like, Steve had tried his best to describe him with words and gestures, demonstrating how long he thought his ears would be, and the length of his hair.

What he sees makes his heart skip, or stop, he's not sure. Because even though Eddie's never seen him, what stares back at Steve is Christopher. It's not perfect, the jawline is more angled than Christopher's was, and the hair is too long but that's because Steve described it that way. It's as close to being Christopher as one could get without seeing a picture.

It makes Steve's eyes water.

"Is it that bad?" Eddie asks.

He just shakes his head in response, setting the pages on the coffee table and stands. He disappears into the study and returns with a single photo frame. He reaches for Eddie's wrist, pulling his hand up and shoving the frame into his palm. Eddie grips the frame and frowns down at it for a moment, a confused expression on his face.

Steve feels a lump in his throat, emotion blocking words that usually come easily to him. All he can do is grab the page with the character portrait on it, offering it up to Eddie to see again. Eddie looks from the photo to the drawing and back a few times before quickly looking up to Steve. "I- is this... Christopher?"

He nods. There are three people in the picture frame. Christopher in the center with Amber and Robert on either side of him. A Santa hat hangs off his head while the twins are each wearing headbands with antlers on them, all three of them in ugly Christmas sweaters. It was sent along with a Christmas card and his mother, perhaps in a pique of nostalgia, framed it. It had sat on the mantle above the fireplace for a few years before migrating to the bookshelf in the study.

"Oh," Eddie whispers, looking between the two pictures again. Then he looks up again, a soft smile on his face and mischief in his eyes as he says, "you think Hopper'll hire me to do the police sketches? Turns out I'm pretty good at drawing from verbal descriptions."

That helps clear the block in his throat, helps him find his words again. Eddie's good at doing that. Saying just the right thing at just the right time to make Steve laugh instead of cry. "You? Working for the police?"

"The police!? No! Slander! I'd work for Hopper, though."

He does laugh, then. "I think your character is developing, or whatever."

Eddie snorts out his own laugh before passing the photo frame and paper back to Steve. "Yeah, well, I'm trying."

And Steve see it, is that thing. That Eddie is trying, has been trying. He makes less comments about conformity and says less snarky things about the customers that come into Family Video when he's loitering around. He does it even when Steve's not around to see this. Robin vouches for him, so do the kids, and even Wayne mentioned that Eddie sat and watched a full baseball game with him without his usual scoffing and ranting.

(And by mention, Steve means that Wayne pulled him aside when he went over to the trailer recently to tell him, "Eddie watched a whole game with me last night and didn't bitch once. And of course I questioned if he was gettin' sick and he said someone had given him a needed talkin' to about bein' a right ass 'bout some things and he was workin' on his way of thinkin' 'bout those things. I think I got you ta thank for that."

"What? Why?" Steve had asked.

"Eddie 'n I don't have much we bond over, believe it or not. Even though Eddie's decided baseball still ain't for him, he said he wouldn't be opposed to watchin' with me again. Don't think he'd of done that without ya.")

So, Steve sees it. He sees that Eddie is trying to be a better person than he was, and that he's drawn an almost perfect picture of Christopher because he listens when Steve talks. He wrote out character sheets that might just make it easier for Steve to read them, instead of just trying to argue that words don't move and if he'd just try harder he'd be able to read like everyone else.

He sees Eddie and it makes Steve want in a way he's been repressing since he was a freshman and first thought Eddie was cute. Eddie's fingers brush against his as he hands the pictures back, and even though Eddie's touched him probably a million times since that first talk, this is the time it makes electricity run through him and his stomach swoops and he feels his face heat.

Not wanting Eddie to see him blush, he turns on heel and speed walks to the study. He places the photo back on the bookshelf where it was before and then pauses to lean his forehead against the wall. They just got to the point of friendship! Steve cannot ruin this by catching feelings.

Although.

He did tell Robin he had a crush on her and got a soulmate out of it.

No. What are the odds he'd get two soulmates? No. He needs to talk to Robin.

He gathers himself and heads back to the living room, where he plans to sit and chat with Eddie like they do after every game and pretend everything is normal.

He crawls through Robin's window that night. She wasn't expecting him, but the window is always cracked.

"Rob, you awake?"

"Mmm," Robin hums back, rolling over in the bed to pop one eye open. She watches him untie his shoes and toe out of them before scooting herself to the edge of the twin, lifting the blanket she's under up for him to slide in. Usually when he does this, it's with his back to her, but this time he needs to see her face, to see the reaction to his confession. He climbs in and settles facing her, watching as she blinks herself more awake.

"What's happened?" she says around a yawn.

"I want to date Eddie."

Robin's eyes go wide. "Oh! Ah, so, that's definitely wake me in the middle of the night kind of news."

"It's barely midnight, but yeah."

"So... how, umm, did you find out?"

Steve sighs, wiggling to lay on his back and stare up at the ceiling now that he's dropped the bomb and it didn't explode instantly. "That I like boys, or that I like Eddie?"

Robin wiggles forward and slings an arm over his torso, curling into his side. "Were they different epiphanies?"

"Yeah."

He feels Robin nod her head against his shoulder. "So, how long have you known?"

He swallows thickly before whispering, "since the summer of '78."

A long silence follows that, and Steve doesn't try to fill it. Steve knows that there is no universe in which this confession to Robin ruins their friendship, but that doesn't mean she can't be mad or upset at him for not telling her. He tells her everything.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" is the question she asks after an eternity, and Steve feels tears in his eyes because she doesn't sound angry or hurt, just curious and maybe confused.

"It didn't matter before," Steve says and waits a moment to see if Robin will say something, but she doesn't, so he continues, "I thought it never would matter, living here in Hawkins. And- and a little part of me was afraid you wouldn't even believe me. If I said it out loud, if I'd let anyone know, and they scoffed, or, or rolled their eyes, or- I know I would have shoved it down. 'Cause I knew I could just like girls for the rest of my life and it would be fine."

She squeezes him with the arm draped over his torso. "Hmm, shoulda known that you'd like girls and boys, ya slut."

The laugh he lets out is way too loud to this late at night, but he doesn't care. That Robin is teasing him means they're okay. That she's not too hurt or mad at him for keeping this from her. For letting her think she was alone. His voice holds no hint of that laughter when he says, "I'm sorry."

"Unless the thing you are apologizing for is speed-running the gay crisis, which is unfair, you better shut your stupid mouth, Steven Michael Harrington."

"Don't government name me while we cuddle in your bed."

"I seem to be the only one doing the cuddling, so I'll say what I want."

He huffs out an exasperated breath but wiggles his arm under and around her. "Better?"

"Yes. Now, Eddie, hmm? I don't see the appeal, but neither can I claim he's a dud like Tammy Thompson. Give me a crush you had I can mock."

"... Tommy H in freshman year."

"No!" Robin is so flabbergasted by that she has to prop herself up on an elbow to look down at him.

He knows he's blushing because of the heat in his face but the room is only lit by the light of the moon, so she might not notice. "It was like for a month. A confusing time where I couldn't tell if it was a crush crush or a friend crush."

"Disgusting."

"Yeah. I know."

They giggle after that and Steve shifts so he can place a kiss on Robin's forehead, bending his arm to pet Robin's hair.

"Alright. You want to date Eddie. Do you... think he likes guys, too?"

"I don't know. We don't sit around discussing who we like, you know? Eddie's never mentioned liking anyone. Ever. Lots of talking about Dungeons and Dragons and his guitar, though. Hmm. He calls it sweetheart. Did you know that?"

Robin snorts. "What a dork. I lied. Eddie's a total dud and loser. Who gives their instrument a name, much less that name being sweetheart."

"What, you don't have a name for your trumpet?"

"God no. I'm a band geek but I'm not a total weirdo."

"Well, does Vickie have a name for her instrument?"

Robin gasps suddenly, a realization of some sort, and says, "Oh! This is why you were so sure Vickie liked me back at Warzone! Why you were so sure she could like both! Because you did!"

Steve shushes her. "Is this how you want to come out to your parents?"

"Right. Quiet time," Robin whispers, "I can do that. Anyway, back to you and Eddie. Are you going to... pursue that?"

"I don't know. I know I'm usually a Pursue Immediately kinda guy but this time... I'm scared, Robbie. I've never been friends with someone before dating them. I've never had something to lose if they said no."

"I don't know what to say," Robin says like a confession, quiet. "I don't know how to help. You're the only person who knows about me because I'm also scared. I don't want to lose our friends 'cause I don't know what they would say. You can never know how people will react about it until they, like, have to actually react. But whatever you decide, however you proceed, just know I'll always be here."

"I love you."

"I love you, too, you giant sap."

May gives way to June and graduation parties. Steve conspires with Wayne to hold Eddie's graduation party at his house. The trailer wouldn't have room for all of Hellfire and the kids. The graduation ceremony goes by quickly and the party is a hit. Nancy and Robin are at their own graduation parties hosted by their parents, so this one is only for Eddie.

Which is what Steve wanted. He didn't want Eddie to have to share this day, a long time coming, with anyone.

(He does make an appearance at Robin's party, because that's his soulmate, but she tells him to go away after fifteen minutes with a my parents already want to betroth me to you, if you stick around, they'll actually try).

"Thanks for hostin'," Wayne says once the party starts to wind down, plopping down into the camping chair he'd brought with him. He'd actually brought four of them, to ensure enough seating for everyone when factoring in the chairs Steve already had at the house. Wayne then gestures across the pool, where Dustin, Lucas, and Max are welcoming a recently dropped off Mike, who had to spend most of the day at Nancy's graduation. "Speakin' of hostin', you gonna let 'em play their game here over the summer? I can start chippin' in snack money."

Steve laughs. "It never even occurred to me that they'd stop once school ended. So, yeah, if they want to keep playing then my place is open. We can take turns buying pizza."

"Best tell Eddie that. He's been tryin' ta work up the courage to ask ya. I can hear him pacin' 'round his room, mutterin' to himself."

"Is he... scared to ask?"

"Nah. Just don't wanna overstep himself, I think," Wayne says, then leans forwards, elbows on his knees. His expression is serious and his voice is low when he adds, "Eddie might not look it but he's always had a fear of bein' too much, y'know? It's not anything you've done, son. It's just Eddie, gettin' up in his own head again."

That Steve understands completely. "Don't worry, Wayne. I'll make sure Eddie knows I want him here."

Wayne nods, reaching out to pat Steve's leg and then use it pull himself out of the chair. "No doubts, here. Now, I think there's some potato salad left callin' ta me."

Steve stands, too. Wayne heads inside to where the food has been safely stored away from the bugs, and Steve heads off to join Eddie, Frankie, and Jeff in whatever they're talking about. They're discussing band stuff, so Steve listens happily, chipping in when they ask his opinion.

Eventually, Frankie and Jeff claim they want to go throw Gareth in the pool as payback for some earlier misdeed, and Eddie opts to stay and chat with Steve.

"So, I originally came to ask if there were any DnD snacks you'd like to change up. We've been getting the same things for a couple months now. Any summer specific snacks?"

Eddie's face glows with delight, smile big and eyes bright. "You're not sick of us yet?"

"No way," Steve smiles back. "I like having you and the guys around."

Eddie's face softens into a fond expression and Steve feels butterflies erupt inside him. Eddie opens his mouth to say something but a shriek interrupts and they both whip around to the sound of splashing.

"Oh. They were serious," Eddie says, which is a weird thing to say. If Eddie didn't think they were serious about throwing Gareth in the pool, then he must have thought they were just making an excuse to get out of conversation. Why?

"Looks like it," is what Steve says, instead of questioning Eddie.

"Oh! Steve! I had an idea," Eddie blurts.

"Oh! Eddie! What?" Steve parrots his phrasing back at him.

"And, like, you can tell me this is none of my business and to drop it, but, uh, Christopher's younger siblings, they're the same age at like Dustin and the rest, yeah? I was thinking, maybe, you should invite them to come stay with you for a couple weeks. Like you used to do with your grandparents? I mean, what's the difference between one older relative and another, right?"

Eddie keeps going, talking about the pros and cons, how it might be cool to get their kids to be friends with Steve's cousins, and Steve hears him, but also isn't listening at the same time. It's a great idea. Steve wonders why he hasn't thought about it. There's nothing stopping him from calling up his aunt and uncle and offering. He doesn't know if Amber and Robert still spend a month of their summer in Michigan, but he wants to know.

And that Eddie has been thinking about it. Has been listing ideas for group activities so Amber and Robert have fun while here. He's got great ideas, and it sounds like he plans to be around for the whole thing, like he wants to be around for the whole thing.

The want swells inside him and Steve just acts. He grabs Eddie's wrist and drags him into the house, passing Wayne as he's heading back outside with a new plate of food. Which is good, because Steve had forgotten Wayne was inside but with him back outside, they are alone in the house as he drags Eddie into the kitchen.

"Uh, what-" Eddie starts to ask once Steve has stopped walking, but Steve cuts him off. He's turned to face Eddie, dropping his wrist to reach up with both hands and cup Eddie's face between them.

"Can I kiss you? Please? Please can I kiss you?"

Eddie's eyes widen but he's nodding his head almost frantically and Steve pulls him into a kiss.

It's electric, like that first time Eddie's fingers brushed his own the day he realized he had a crush on Eddie. Eddie presses in, his own hands wrapping around Steve's waist, pulling him in as much as he's pressing forward. He runs his tongue along Eddie's bottom lip and Eddie opens to him immediately.

Eddie backs him into the wall that divides the dining room from the kitchen, kisses turning heated, biting. It's a heady feeling for Steve, to not be the one pressing someone against the wall; to instead be pressed. There's a high-pitched whine that echos through the kitchen and it takes Eddie breaking away to kiss his way down Steve's neck for him to realize he's making that noise, encouraging Eddie with it.

"Fuck, Eddie," Steve says as Eddie shifts, his leg sliding between Steve's own. "Wait, stop. Wait."

Eddie pulls back, although reluctantly. "Hmm?"

"Anyone could walk in here. And your party is still going. We gotta slow it down."

"Right, shit, sorry," Eddie pulls away, far too quickly, and Steve doesn't like the uncertainty that settles on him.

"Hey, no, don't apologize. I just- Jesus Eddie, I want to continue so bad, but not if we have to rush. Not some quicky in the middle of your party."

Tentatively, Eddie reaches back out, takes one of Steve's hands in his. "So, this isn't just a- this is something you've thought about?"

Steve nods. "Yeah. I told Robin almost a month ago I wanted to date you."

"Yeah?" Eddie looks shocked and shy at the same time.

"Yeah. So, uh, let's finish this party and we can talk about us after?"

Eddie nods, bringing Steve's hand up to his lips and planting a soft kiss to his knuckles. "Definitely."

#steddie #my fic #what's eight plus seven?#platonic stobin #they're inseparable your honor #sorry if theres typos i dont have the impluse control to reread once I write the last sentence #i just hit post and run #theres gonna be a few more parts i think #i keep adding more

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lovejosephquinn · 1 year

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The pictures got nothing to do with the actual story I just think he looks extra soft here 🥺

Just friends.

Two words you loathed so terribly from the English dictionary more than you cared to admit.

It was a wet and rainy Friday night, nothing to do but spend time with your best friend; the one you’d loved ever since you could remember. You’d always watched from the sidelines, praying that someday the girl whose hand he held, took every single second out of his free time and cared for so deeply would be you.

When those close to you who knew of such a feeling was to say to you just tell him the truth or you don’t know until you try. Well it was easier said than done. Do you risk your whole friendship or do you just sit back and watch your feelings and yourself deteriorate rapidly from his lack of knowledge or do you leap into something that would either go well or to shit.

Well this night you thought differently, he’d brought you flowers just because you’d had a bad week, you were plowing through a bottle of wine that he’d also took the liberty of purchasing for your night in. You’d just finished devouring the Chinese take out in which you’d requested, plate piled high of the salty yet delicious food, stomach almost ready to explode from the whole eyes bigger than your belly situation.

Legs up on the coffee table, Joe’s arm firmly placed around your shoulder, your head leaning against him, it almost felt like love, a complete and utter fantasy which you focussed so much on so often. His eyes were firmly fixated toward the television screen at the crappy comedy you had committed to. You body moved before your brain could catch up and before you knew it your hand rested on top of his, paying no mind resting against his lap. It made him avert his attention straight to you.

“Everything ok love?” His voice sounded oh so sweet, so quaint and attentive, it made your heart go crazy.

“Always as long as you’re around.” Why are you like this? Your eyes looked up to meet Joe’s, his nose scrunched up, the chocolatey gaze making the entirety of your body tingle, goose bumps arise and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Are you sure, you got everything you need?”

You sat yourself back, sitting up straight, legs moving to sit to the side of you on the sofa.

“What would you do if you loved someone you were so sure didn’t love you the same way back?” A simple question, sure. An innocent question, maybe to you. A hard answer for him, it seemed that way when his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Then I’d tell them, or at least make a move and then at least I’d know right?”

Why was it so easy for him to say that yet so difficult for you to act upon his advice? Oh yeah probably because the reason was sat so close to you.

“Can I practice telling you?”

Joe sighed practically leaving you side tracked to his bizarre reaction.

“Or I could show you, that way you’ll know what to do if you were me.” You nodded as his whole posture moved frantically, his legs now reflective of your own stance. His face came impossibly close towards you. His hand came up to stroke over your cheek, down your jaw and thumb clambered over your lips, a small nervous smile appearing on his features, quivering and anxious for his next move, you closed your eyes, your heart beat irrational.

“Do you know what I’d do, it’ll give you a straight answer for sure.” He whispered.

“What’s that?” Your voice came out in a squeak, you’d never felt this nervous around someone before, never-mind the person you usually feel most comfortable around…

Joe moved in, closing the space between you with a single peck to your lips, slowly moving away dragging his softness with him. You felt fireworks explode.

“Do it again please?” You felt like the manners would make him refuse, but he did and this time for longer.

Your lips collided together in a perfect rhythm, slowly ridding of any tension that you felt, your arms now wrapped around the back of his neck, heads tilting either side for full effect. His tongue made its way past the entrance of your mouth, sliding with yours in unison, it was hot and beautiful. Something your dreams only held dearly to your heart, but now this was reality. He was giving you what you’d craved for so long. Moving back, you felt the last of the smile he’d left lingering whilst you passionately made out with one another, this time you joined him said smile.

“He’s one lucky man.”

“He’s also one oblivious man.” You muttered under your breath, the problem was he heard you loud and clear.

“And what do you mean by that?” Joe smirked.

“Let me show you.” You threw all the confidence you had into this one move, almost throwing yourself to straddle his lap. He furrowed his brow at you, proving your point on full obliviousness.

You moved your arms back around him, this time pushing him toward you from the back of his head and crashing your lips down to his. He was taken back as his breath hitched and eventually hummed at the memorable taste of before.

“You’re a quick learner, darling.”

“What’s your answer?” You bit down on your lip in anticipation, the cogs clearly turning in his brain. You could’ve almost spotted the moment in which the lightbulb pinged above his head.

“If you don’t know then you’re pretty oblivious yourself.” Joe mocked your voice during the keyword. You could’ve cried tears of happiness, if this wasn’t him admitting his feelings back.

“Prove it.” You whispered.

“Why do you think I kissed you? It’s not the road I’d normally go down but I had a sneaky feeling, not so insensible now am I?”

You scoffed, your tongue poking at your cheek as you shook your head in disbelief.

“Should we continue or are you going to look like a rabbit in headlights for the rest of the night?”

You made impact on your mouths together once again, Joe initiated the first and second kiss because he loved you, you initiated the third because you loved him. Now the feeling was mutual it was a pretty easy fact to confirm that you took action together.

The movie was a mere sound in the background now, your full focus was on the man you’d wanted and longed for silently for years and years, it just goes to show the wait can be worth the risk.

Just friends? Just lovers.

#joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn blurb

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stvnszlr · 4 months

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Hi luv!

I was thinking about Stevie again (not a surprise, think about him every day) and I had a really cute scenario in mind

Imagine you and Steven are dating for some time now and he never admited he likes being little spoon (let's be honest, he RADIATES little spoon energy) and he asks for it because he had a bad day and then he admits he likes it and he's so embarrassed and he blushes and shit (I love him)

OMG TRUSTTT I DID NOT EVER FORGET ABT UR ORIGINAL ASK I AM JUST SLOW ASF 😭

this is such a cute prompt :’) i think u have some mind reading powers bcz … sfw subby steven … my dream

sub ! steven adler x dom ! gender-neutral ! reader , all fluff !

“Hi, baby,” you mumble, looking up from the bed as Steven lumbers toward you…

… from the bathroom suite. You notice his posture is slumped, shoulders weighed down and eyes drooping with exhaustion. Even his usual smile is completely flipped around, the corners of his lips nearly downturned, lacking the playfulness often present in his expression.

His obvious unhappiness makes you frown too, watching his dejected attitude deepen as he approaches the bed. “Oh, angel…” you murmur, holding out a hand for him to grasp as he slides beneath the covers with you. “What’s the matter?”

He squeezes your hand cautiously as he adjusts the sheets over himself, looking up at you for a moment before sighing and rolling over, turning his back to you. You try to push down the slight sting of rejection, knowing he’s exhausted and frustrated. “Just… band stuff. I dunno,” he mumbles, and you can hear the upset infliction in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” you reply softly, trying to project tenderness and care in your tone, hoping to bring him some comfort from whatever’s got him so troubled. Steven doesn’t reply, but exhales heavily from his side of the bed.

A few beats of silence pass. You hear his deep, tense breathing and the slightest rustling of fabric.

His voice, nearly a whisper, pipes up from across the mattress. “Can we cuddle?” He murmurs, sounding almost hesitant as he asks.

Your face stretches into a relieved smile, muscles relaxing as he invites you into his personal space. Thankfully, his attitude seems to be less isolation and more need for comfort— which you’re always happy to provide for your sweet boy.

“Of course, sweetheart,” you croon, your fingers reaching out to trace over his bare shoulders gently. You feel him inhale shakily at the fleeting touch, a small shudder going through him as your fingertips dance across his skin. Before he can speak again, you’ve drawn yourself flush against his back; your hips and thighs press firmly against his rear, and your arms sneak around his thin waist, holding your little boy close against you.

“I— wh—“ he stutters, twisting a bit in your grasp. He seems a bit surprised at this position— maybe even slightly embarrassed.

“Shhh,” you hum softly, nosing a bit at his mane of blond curls. Your warm hands cup at his stomach, massaging the soft skin beneath coarse hair. You can feel his heart skipping against you, thumping frantically. Is he… nervous? “We’re just snuggling, baby,” you reassure, your voice airy and confident in his ears.

You press a fleeting peck against his shoulder, plush lips meeting supple skin. “Is this okay?” You ask, voice hushed. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

His shaky breaths fall heavy on your ears, and you hear him swallow thickly in the silence between you. “Um…” he exhales, his chest expanding in your hold around him. He’s breathing harder than before, and you can’t quite tell if it’s from nervousness or satisfaction.

“Yeah… this is— uh, good,” he sighs softly, his voice a bit higher than usual. Lofty and airy, like he’s a bit dazed. He shifts against you again, rubbing his legs together and bumping them against yours behind him. Ah. So he does like it. Quite a bit, it seems.

You hum gently, your lips curving up into a pleased smile. One of your hands strokes up his belly a bit, rubbing circles into his chest and abdomen with a soft, fleeting touch. “I like this,” you purr, hooking your chin over his small shoulder to whisper in his ear. “You fit perfectly,” you compliment.

Through the messy blond strands surrounding both your faces, you see his cheeks begin to take on a rosy color. He’s awfully warm against you, his bare skin flushed with heat. Even his chest and shoulders are beginning to tint lightly pink. “M-me too,” he mumbles shyly, and you can feel the tenseness in his frame beginning to melt away. “Feels… nice,” he breathes quietly.

You hold him snugly against you, feeling fuzzy at how small and slender he feels in your arms. You’re barely moving except for the tender massage of your fingers on his chest. Both of you have gently fluttered your eyes shut by now, and you breathe softly together as a warm, cozy haze of drowsiness settles in.

“You’re so gorgeous, angel,” you whisper to Steven, voice low and self-assured. “I think you should let me do this more often.”

Steven mumbles something under his breath, nuzzling his face into the pillow. “Yea,” he pants. “All… all the time.”

#steven adler #i actually rlly enjoy writing requests like this :)#saz requests !#gnr #guns n roses #steven gnr #steven adler x reader #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses imagine #sub steven adler

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